Jessica's Change Management Ch. 21

"Alright! Now, as we say, move the way joy makes you move." I cited another yoga phrase but forgot the fillers 'cause shaking arms. "So let's move our booties. Let's work our butts till they're bootilicious!"

Turning around, I kneeled down on the fitness mat. After putting my hands on the ground, I lifted my knees up. Pushing my ass to the ceiling, I got into something like a triangle position called the downward-facing dog, or more like downward-facing bitch, as Consultant-me remarked sarcastically. Here I was, the college grad, in a fitness room with my tits out and my ass pushed into the air. Here I was, the senior consultant, giving ridiculous yoga instructions. Here I was finally on the way to score some desperately needed points.

Consultant-me was revolted by the way I flashed my assets and hid my brains. It was scandalized by the way I misused the yoga phrases. It was outraged by my need of nipple pinching as reminder. Most of all, though, it was furious about the fact that my professional attitude had only hindered my performance and prevented my success so far. I guess that was why it was silently ranting and cursing that much more.

"Work that booty! Like yay!" I exclaimed in my over-excited manner. "1, 2, 3, clench!!"

Pushing my wetlook booty back towards the sales reps, I clenched my ass cheeks. My booty bulged epically. My buns filled out the shiny material epically. After tightening and clenching my ass cheeks five more times, I was certain that it was a helluva show. After all, the sales reps were watching an ass-istant working her ass off, like literally. Throwing a look over my shoulder, however, I saw Mr. Pioneer and Sharkboy starting to fidget on their seat. All attention gone! No!

"Always remember! Yoga's all 'bout shining the light of awareness, you know, into the darkest corners of your body. Fer shure!" I announced, raising the absurdity. "Let's, like totally, set our body's free then!"

With that, I reached back and grabbed the zipper of my tight wetlook leggings 'cause words and actions and all. Oh, I had forgotten to tell you about a special feature my leggings were sporting. They had a full zipper that went from the front through my legs to the back all the way around. When you opened the zipper completely, the leggings were only held up by the single fly button and the crotch was fully open.

That was exactly what I was doing. Gyrating my hips super sexily, the tight material opened up, exposing my fake-tanned ass cheeks. Apropos fake! My red inked kiss lips got revealed along with it. The special feature had another amazing effect 'cause my lean legs remained clad with the super shiny wetlook material while my booty and crotch got exposed.

"Like us ho-ga instruct-whores always say, the breakthrough, you know, ain't coming when you learn what to tighten, but more like, what to relax!" I hauled out another yoga phrase.

With my booty mostly liberated, I picked up where I had left off, tightening and relaxing my butt cheeks. About five more times, I clenched and unclenched my buns. I was really giving the audience a show here with my booty shaking and wiggling massively although I wasn't getting back any kinda positive feedback. Damnit!

"Wooh! What a twerkshop after the workshop, right? You already feel relaxed, boys? Cause I literally feel like zen! For real!" I addressed the dudes with forced cheeriness.

Of course, the pun was as silly as pathetic 'cause it was me doing all the work. Of course, the question was as absurd as ridiculous 'cause the sales reps could have barely been any more relaxed in their seats with their drinks.

"C'mon, no time to ease off! We still gotta learn what to relax!" I hastily announced a new exercise when they didn't respond.

With my nipples exposed, I didn't dare pinching them, and as a result forgot about the fillers again. That was why I had to do something else before completely losing the salesmen's interest. Putting my face on the ground, I stuck my ass up in the air and reached back with my hands to spread my butt cheeks apart. Revealing my ass crack, I began tightening and loosening my bunghole.

"Push 'n wink 'n push again!" I shouted.

I made a real effort to show off my twitching and convulsing butthole in the bestest way ever. At the same time, I was cautious not to let it become repetitive. That was why I let my butt cheeks go at the count of nine and started clenching and unclenching my booty instead.

"Twerk 'n bounce 'n twerk again!" I instructed.

Counting out the numbers loud and clear, I made my buns shake and twerk before I reached back to push my ass cheeks apart once more. This time, I slipped my forefingers up my crinkled bunghole and stretched my ringpiece apart. Of course, I counted that action out aloud, too. After pulling my ass ring apart nine times, I let my fingers slip out.

"Wink, baby, wink!" I commented on my actions.

By now, I felt my butthole standing slightly open so the sales reps must have had a perfect view up my ass chute. Going all in, I added my middle fingers to the mix, slipping four fingers up my ringpiece to begin the second ass stretching session.

"Alright!" I announced all excitedly. "As we sayyy... eyyy... eyyy... eyyy!"

I was just about to monger another yoga phrase when I was taken by surprise. Out of the blue, Mr. Pioneer was standing next to me. I hadn't noticed him getting off his seat and walking over 'cause my back had been to the boys. He wasn't just standing next to me, though. He had lost his towel and was sporting a raging hard-on, which he was stroking furiously.

The moment I had started saying the phrase, his balls had burst and a spurt of thick white spunk had shot right onto my forehead. What an impact! It stopped my talking and made me act like a total bimbo. All naturally and unforced, I shrieked over-emotionally and waved my hands through the air ultra dramatically. Finally!

"You wanna tell us some thingy, Assy?" Sharkboy egged me on, nonetheless.

Oh jeez! A dude was giving me a facial and the salesmen treated it as the most normal stuff ever. No matter how much I twerked my ass off, I was literally just a cum dumpster for them. Even worse, a sperm receptacle that was entertaining them with the ridiculous ho-ga act while getting filled. Umph!

"As we sayyyy... eyyy... eyyy... you gotta find the place inside yourself where nooohhh... ohhh... ohhh...thing's impossible. Let's get tooohhh... ohhh... ohhh... work on our most precious thingiiieeehhh...!"

While I restarted talking, Mr. Pioneer kept on jerking his cock, spraying his hot load over my face. Whenever a jet of spunk hit my face, I shrieked and flailed about hysterically. His jizz was so thick it felt like he was plastering my forehead with some face cream, which only made me squeal that much more theatrically.

Oh hell! You can't believe the whoops and hollers and laughter that came from the rest of the sales reps while they watched the scene. You can't believe the disgrace and shame and degradation that ravaged Consultant-me. You can't believe the crackle and sensations and arousal surging through Bimbo-me.

Anyhow, as I was kneeling on the ground, Mr. Pioneer was standing over me and spilling his cream over me from above. That way, most of his man juice splashed onto my forehead and slowly trickled down my face. Gosh! It was dripping down onto my cheeks, leaving gooey lines across my face while I forced myself to continue talking platitudes. So extra humiliating!

With my face totally covered, Consultant-me raised a hue and cry. Only in my head, though. On the outside, I continued my yoga routine as if nothing had happened. Of course, my voice quivered and trembled in shame. Of course, my body twitched and flinched in disgrace. But it was all part of the show, right?

Anyhow, sitting down on the fitness mat, I put my hands on the ground behind my back. Spreading my legs, I set my feet on the floor. Then I pushed my tailbone upwards to the ceiling, lifting my ass off the ground until I was in a bridge position.

"1 'n 2 'n up 'n down! Thrust that nookie out! Yay!" I instructed.

I picked up a rhythm of pushing my hips up, holding the position, and pushing my hips down. With my legs spread wide, my snatch was clearly visible. Not just that, my pussy lips were already engorged, jutting out from my slit, so much so that my soft pink pussy meat was visible.

"3 'n 4 'n thrust 'n thrust! Yay!" I counted each push in my over-the-top ho-ga instruct-whore imitation.

My rhythm accelerated until I was basically humping the air. It looked like my pussy was literally snapping at some imaginary bait. Gasp!

"Thrust that cookiiieeehhh!" I shrieked anew.

Once again, I got caught off guard. Once again, I was made to squeal theatrically. I had been so focused on my yoga exercise that I hadn't noticed another dude stepping up to me. It was the Antihead this time. Just as Mr. Pioneer before, he had lost his towel and was wanking his cock.

He wasn't pointing it at my face, though. Obviously, he found my pussy in need of feeding, too. That was why he was aiming at my spread open crotch. His first cumblast hit the bullseye sure enough 'cause his spunk landed right across my cunt. While my body was twitching from surprise and revolt, he pinched his cock and waited. By now, I didn't need another prompt. Reluctantly but dutifully, I got back into position and restarted my exercise.

"Siiieeex! Thruuu...uuuhhh...uuust!" I squealed.

The next time I pushed my hips up, Antihead released his rod and sprayed a splatter of splooge over my crotch. It all happened so sudden that it totally rattled me and threw me out of my rhythm.

"Eeeiiight! Thruuu...uuuhhh...uuust!" I squealed some more.

After the first two cumshots, Mr. Anti aimed his next jizz blast at my right funbag. When his creamy goo hit me right in the nipple, I finally lost my balance. In an attempt to move my rack out of the danger zone, my arms shot up to cover my big, round boobies. As a result, however, my butt dropped to the floor, making me shriek and stopping my motion.

Oh damn! You stupid girl! You just achieved the polar opposite of what you set out to do, as in my hands cupping my juicy juggs instead of covering them, thereby serving my titties up as cum targets instead of protecting them.

Way worse, though, these dirty bastards were betraying my professional yoga session, which made Consultant-me throw a hissy fit. The inner protests almost made me jump to my feet and run out of the fitness room. Every splash of jizz felt like a pin-prick, making me shriek dramatically.

Oh my god! I was literally working my ass off to give these sales reps an awesome show and they were cheapening my efforts by misusing me as nothing but a cum dumpster. I felt totally denigrated, so much so that I miscounted my thrusts, so much so that I lost balance and my butt plonked down on the ground.

"Wooh!" I had to force the fake enthusiasm even harder when I quickly jumped back onto my feet to cover up that mishap. "I feel, like, so awesome, like totally bitching! Like yay!"

What an effect! Suddenly, the whole bimbo babble was spouting out of me totally naturally. What a lie! I so didn't feel good but more pathetic than ever. I felt soiled and drenched, which was extra disgraceful. On top of that, Consultant-me was quick to remind me that I had tarnished the sanctity of yoga and dragged it through the mire, which was extra shameful, 'cause I had always admired the philosophy behind it. Ugh!

"Boys! You're feeling all relaxed 'n loosened, too?" I asked the group of sales reps, extensively shaking out my arms and legs, or more like my titties and booty.

"I so hope you learned, like, lots by watching today." I said as a send-off.

As I had planned this yoga session as a tease only, it was time to bring it to an end. After all, the action had already gone further than intended. That was why I pulled the zipper shut and pulled the zebra top down while waving goodbye. This wasn't some kind of sellout after all.

In a way, Consultant-me's constant protesting had kept me kinda level-headed. At least, I was still rational enough to pick up my original plan. Which one? Grabbing the sales champs one after the other and leading them to my hotel room for their special treatment.

SHOCKER!

Just when I had gotten redressed, a new dude stuck his head into the fitness room. Oh man! What kinda revolving door was this? Four men were more than enough for my taste. I so didn't want more dudes to witness my disgrace. Damnit! I just wanted to open my mouth and shoo him away when Sharkboy beat me to it. With a grand gesture, he invited him in.

"Come 'n join us! Sorry, we started with the entertainment part already." The cunning dude explained. "As you see, so far, we only helped Assy apply the proper makeup."

Oh fudge! He was alluding to the spunk on my cheeks. Of course, the new dude saw the thick, white goo glistening on my skin.

"Hihihihi!" It gave me a hysterical fit. "Hihihi!"

All I could do was laugh at the absurdity of the situation. All I could do was giggle at the absurdity of Consultant-me ranting at myself. All I could do was snigger at the absurdity of Bimbo-me embracing the ditziness. Oh gosh! I was totally relishing the intense humiliation created by my inner turmoil.

All the 40ish baldhead did, by contrast, was laugh at the desperate yoga instructor with the sluttiest gym outfit and fakest cum smile ever. The bearded dude had been part of Shelly's group and been really aggressive in the discussions, so much so that I had desperately hoped to avoid him. He was also really sturdy with an impressive bull neck and his upper arms were covered in tattoos, which made him even less appealing.

"That's the workshop assistant, ain't it?" His laughter was short-lived.

"Nah! From what I've seen so far, she hasn't been a good sales trophy. Now, she's supposed to be a trained yoga instructor? Fuck me!" He obviously hadn't been impressed with me before.

"Got something way better!" He suggested instead. "There's a strip battle going on between two real pornstars on the show floor. Let's head over there."

"Holy shit! Sounds awesome! Looks like were about done here anyway." Weasel quickly agreed.

With that he started walking out of the fitness room to join the bullneck. Surprisingly, the rest of the sales reps followed him. Oh no! Even Sharkboy...

STUNNER!

This was beyond shocking. Hitting me out of nowhere, it totally stole my thunder. I was about to get ditched like a bride at the altar. I was about to be left out in the rain with spunk on my face. This couldn't be happening! Not after all I had done! Not after all I had sacrificed! Not when I was so close to my goal! The sales champions couldn't leave, not before I had drenched their balls and earned the rings, I mean my well-deserved points.

"Dudes, oh dudes!" I hastily shouted. "You actually don't look relaxed 'n loosened, like totes not. You look more like strained 'n erect, fer shure."

"I so can't let you leave like that, boys. You don't wanna hurt my instruct-whore pride." I hammed it up, fluttering my eyelashes.

Oh boy! No way, I could be any more obvious, especially not with a cum-coated face. Actually, it was so on the nose that Consultant-me was ready to once more slap my forehead. Duh! Anyhow, it accomplished its purpose, 'cause it gave the youngster a stop.

"So you think you can keep up with those professional entertainers?" The fierce bullneck asked me with a challenging tone.

"Oh my! That's, like, so no competition. As if!" I huffed with firm conviction.

For the moment, Consultant-me and Bimbo-me were in complete agreement. My business-self saw me as way more educated and creative whereas my bimbo-self saw me as way more bubbly and pretty than some random pornstars. Easy to agree, right?

"You know, Assy, I happen to know a yoga instruction, too." Sharkboy became all cunning again. "Happiness is a state of inner filling, it says. I bet you're familiar with it."

Oh Lordy! Of course, I knew that phrase. I also knew that it had a different meaning.

"If the instruct-whore wanna continue this ho-ga class, she so gotta show us how to achieve that filling thingy." He remarked in his mocking style.

"Oh girrrl! What 'bout this?" He suggested imitating my fake enthusiasm. "We help you with the filling part 'n you help us relax. For real!"

Holy fudge! I couldn't say no to that, could I? I should have said no to that, shouldn't I? Damnit! My smartass move of using yoga for my show was backfiring on me. My smartass move of playing with those yoga phrases was turning into a boomerang. Once again, the cunning dude was outsmarting me. Once again, I had outsmarted myself, or more like Consultant-me had done me no favor. Umph!

His argument seemed too ironclad for me to dismiss. On top of that, I was still the price he had won, so I didn't have much wiggle room in the first place. I mean, I would have preferred to have a one-on-one with the sales champs one after the other, but I guess I had to take what I could get, right? That was why I forced myself to keep up my over-excited yoga character and cheer all giddy and elated. My cheers, however, got stuck in my throat when I saw what the cunning dude did next.

"Look what we got here, Assy. Surprise! Surprise!" He fetched some tool from the barbell corner. "It's actually called a fascia massage tool. But don't you worry 'bout those technical terms 'n big words 'n stuff. It's a nice sticky thingy, simple as that."

I caught myself starting to roll my eyes at his mansplaining, which I quickly turned into a wide-eyed look of naivety 'cause appearance. Still, it equally annoyed and aroused me. Dang! After all those years of yoga and aerobics, I knew a thing or two about fascial manipulation and the use of roller sticks. Actually, I had used this kind of sports massager with a stiff stick, smooth covering, and rounded off edges before.

Sharkboy wasn't planning on using it to massage my legs or thighs, though. Instead, Mr. Aggro was quick to lend him a helping hand. Damnit! The other three sales reps had been more like passive spectators. This bullneck, by contrast, seemed like a totally different kind of guy.

They let me stand in the middle of the fitness room while the bullneck gathered a couple of black, round barbell weights. I didn't really have anything else to do but wait. Still, I felt the need to entertain the sales reps. That was why I started scraping the drying cum off my face and feeding it to myself. At least, I managed to attract the attention of Mr. Weasel, Antihead and the Asian dude with my porn claw sucking theatrics. When my face was kinda clean, I used the lip enhancer to finish rearranging my appearance, which earned me a good round of laughter. Gosh! I used the sucking device totally naturally by now, so much so that I forgot how ridiculous the usage looked.

Whatever! By then Mr. Aggro had put two weights on top of each other right in front of me and the cunning youngster had placed the fascia tool in the middle hole, making it stand upright. My eyes grew wider when I realized that he had just turned it into a special massage stick, as in pussy massage.

"Let's do some cool thingie for the inner filling part, like advanced squats. Why don't we call it the super squats." Sharkboy mocked my cheering.

Oh wow! This was going really fast, so much so that I hesitated. Up till now, it had been me calling the shots. Now, the cunning dude was turning the table on me.

"Sorry, like, so sorry, but I'm the ho-ga instruct-whore here." I responded kinda piqued.

"I'm the one qualified to choose the ass-ercises. Period!" I said putting my hands on my hips all peeved.

Oh wow! I was babbling in the most bimboy way ever while posing in the most defiant stance ever. Consultant-me resisted the loss of control while Bimbo-me totally embraced it. I opened my mouth to continue making my point but didn't get a chance, 'cause Mr. Aggro grabbed my lower jaw with his big paw, holding it like a vice. For a moment, we remained in this position, staring at each other silently. Then he reached back.