No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 03

She took a breath and took stock of her lower body. She thanked herself silently for keeping in shape and for all the gymnastics she'd had in high school. Although she'd practiced Yoga on and off for years, she'd never had this kind of personal corrections. Completely personal. She kept her focus on her feet, her quads, her root block and now she heard him mention her glutes. She felt taller, rooted to the ground, as if her legs were a sturdy tree. She could almost begin to forget about the individual muscles, imagining instead her lower body forming a solid base.

"That's it," he coached, moving his hands now from her butt up her back. "Turn on the back Heart." He stopped behind her shoulder blades, gently pushing them down towards her waist, lowering her shoulders. "Keep your lower back in its natural curve and try to lift your breasts towards the sky slightly." He slid his hands around her ribs dragging them lightly across her breasts. She inhaled at his touch, her erect nipples sensitive to the stimulation from his hands.

"Perfect. Now breathe in deeply, and breathe out, using your diaphragm to pull air in and push it out." He stood back and watched her. She felt exposed...and alive. Her lower half had melted into the floor, her upper half swayed slightly with each breath. "Feel the energy of the Earth flowing into your body, up your legs, to your yoni, your stomach, your breasts and heart, and now to your head. With each breath let the Earth's energy flow into you..."

She visualized the flow of energy letting his words take her into her body, her breath. The feelings of guilt surfaced, the terrible injury she had done to him, the breaking of a trust, personally and professionally, and she felt the energy mix with the feelings, like cream in coffee, swirling. She heard his voice as if from far away, gently coaxing her to focus on her breath, on the energy and she felt the humiliation and guilt begin to wash away.

"Before we get to the next step," he interrupted her thoughts, "it's best to do a few cleansing breaths. With each inhale, I want you to sweep your arms up over your head and with each exhale, do a forward fold, gently, touching your toes. Okay. Inhale...count to five..slowly bring your hands to touch over head, slightly arch your back...and now exhale slowly...forward...gently. And again...sweep your hands out and up."

She had never felt so exposed and so light. As she lifted up, she knew he was studying her—naked—her sex split open slightly, her arousal mixing into the returning feelings of guilt, the old patterns of exposing herself now laid bare, with his permission, no by his suggestion, as a way of cleansing herself. She kept up her movements, now extended tall, her breasts pointing out towards him; her back arched slightly, her cunny pushed forward. She tried to keep all of the muscles he'd mentioned appropriately turned on or relaxed; the mental effort forced her concentration on the sheer complexity of the task, distracting her from her humiliation and guilt.

"Good," he said softly, "one more time....Now, on your last extension up, hold your hands above your head, interlace your fingers and bend your back more than your neck to look at them, Don't strain, but see if you can just lean back a little."

It wasn't a problem for her. She held the position, realizing again what a sight she must be, stripped and exposed in her living room, with a man completely dressed and no doubt fully erect himself, if past experience was any guide. She imagined his cock straining in his pants and smiled inwardly.

He leaned over and dunked the wash cloth into the bowl. "With the Earth's energy now flowing into you, and the energy of the Sky (air) holding you up, it's time to introduce Water. This is a very difficult part to do, so I want to prepare you for it mentally."

She shivered a little, trying to figure out what he was going to put her through.

"I am going to squeeze the cloth over your face. Your task is to hold this position no matter what." He began to dribble the water onto her cheeks, forcing her eyes to close. It tickled terribly as the drops began to flow down her neck. "Feel the water flowing across your skin. Embrace the droplets as they wash over you."

She tensed her jaw and then relaxed it, forcing herself to overcome the desire to scream from the tickling. The drops felt like tiny insects scurrying across her skin. He doused her again, this time further towards her chin, and the rivulets poured down her neck, across her breasts. She felt goosebumps on her skin, her nipples stiff and aching from the cold as the water evaporated. She focused on the drip drip drip of the water as it hit the tarp, the small droplets splashing on her feet.

He kept up the flow, each time he squeezed the cloth he poured water over a different part of her face, forcing the drops to travel over different territory. After the initial shock, as the new drops retraced old paths, the tickling subsided and she could focus on her breathing. After seven or eight cycles, she lost count of how many times he squeezed the cloth on her face, but it continued until a new feeling emerged: a sense of the water pulling her emotions out and down to the floor; drawing out the humiliation and shame. She swallowed and focused on her breath, her arms beginning to ache from being held over her head.

He noticed her body beginning to shake slightly from the physical exertion. "Okay...one more. Open your mouth as wide as you can and take as much water into it as you can comfortably hold. Do not swallow it." She did as he asked and felt the cloth against her lips as he squeezed it into her mouth. She blocked her throat with her tongue feeling the water filling her up. "Don't close your lips; keep them open." She felt the water overflowing her mouth, dribbling down her jaw and landing on her shoulders, finding a new path down her back to her butt and dripping on the floor. "Now, push the water out of your mouth with your tongue. We're almost ready for the next step." She did as he asked and again felt the water streaming down her back, the ticklish feelings erupting where streams traveled in new paths.

"Gently; very gently bring your hands down to your hips, your elbows out....good...now very gently, taking it easy on your back, fold forward at the hips...keep your back extended and straight...that's it. Fold as far forward as you can comfortably. If you want to drop your arms, you may, but keep your back straight."

She hung there, her small breasts pointing down like upside down pyramids, capped with her nipples purplish pink from swelling. Relief from the strain flowed through her arms and back, along with the final drips of the water as it cascaded to the floor.

He soaked the cloth again, and washed her back, from her neck down to the crack of her ass, again, starting from the top and moving down. Again. And again. With each cycle, more water dribbled over her ribs, tickling her and forcing her to concentrate. She pulled her hands back to her thighs to support herself. He spread her cheeks and dribbled water over her rectum, letting the cloth run a stream over her hole. She could feel herself pucker and unpucker the sphincter there, the feelings of shame and exposure intensified.

"Good," he said supportively. "We're almost ready to go to the next step. You're in excellent shape, Marcie, and you have an excellent shape!" She could tell he was aroused by the tone of his voice and it aroused her. Though this might be a ritual cleansing, she knew, based on the evening in the den that there was more in store for her than a simple washing.

"Okay. Slowly stand back up and relax in Mountain pose. Gently breathe; inhale and exhale." He put the washcloth in the bowl and stood back to look at her. She was beautiful; her dark hair framed her face, her cheekbones, not too prominent, helped give character to her round face. That neck, so long he could just stroke it all night long. Standing there, naked and breathing, her small breasts rising and falling, her abdomen nicely shaped, the thin black hair of her landing strip pointing to her slit as prominent a sign as if it were neon; the gentle widening of her hips and her well toned legs. He hardened every time he saw her and he felt a far stronger need to penetrate her than he'd felt in years. There definitely was something different going on here.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," her voice croaked and she cleared it. "Fine. A little nervous still." She was actually a lot nervous, but she was also a little chilly, the water evaporating off her naked skin.

"I just remembered...I need a sheet...can I find one in the bedroom?"

She opened her eyes but didn't move. It felt too good to stay in position. "In the linen closet outside the bedroom door. Top shelf."

"While I get it, please visualize the life force flowing up from the Earth into all of the places that were fatigued by the last exercise. With each breath in, bring the force up, with each breath out have it flow through your body."

He returned and looked at her, eyes closed, standing straight and tall, her beauty overwhelmed him. The perfect curve of her breasts, her belly, the flare of her hips, her sex -- it all fit together for him as a sculpture.

"I..." She opened her eyes and looked at him, hesitating. "I think I need to pee."

He didn't want her to move, to walk to the bathroom even though it was close by. He grabbed the bowl and placed it between her legs handing her the washrag. "It would be better if you didn't walk too far. I should have asked. Can you go in that?"

She looked down at the bowl and at him, feeling even more exposed. "I guess so...really?" She confirmed he was serious and squatted down over the bowl, blushing at performing such an intimate act in front of him.

She felt so much better emptying her bladder, once she began, the relief overcame her shyness. She looked down to see the yellow stream spraying into the bowl and looked up to see him staring at her, watching her completely exposed. She swallowed, the familiar feelings rising up inside her no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. She finished, not meeting his gaze but focusing instead on the liquid in the bowl. It wasn't much better to look down, seeing herself openly exposed to him, her legs shaking a little at having to squat. She wiped herself and put the rag on the side of the bowl. She stood up away from the bowl, wiping the rag water from her fingers on her waist.

"Take a moment and recenter yourself. Mountain pose, breathe in and out."

She did as he suggested, relaxing the embarrassment and shame from her mind trying to regain that wonderful sense of lightness.

"I want you to focus on this 'life force,' not as if it were a 'something,' like a noun but more as if it were an adjective -- it suffuses everything; some things to a greater degree others less. Even things we think of as 'lifeless' are infused with it."

She breathed in and out, thinking of her life force suffusing her being.

"You could think of it as a river. It flows among, between, all things we touch and see in the world. The river analogy is flawed because it suggests the force flows in a singular direction. It is much more like a light source -- an uncovered light bulb, say -- that emits outward in all directions simultaneously."

She imagined herself as a lightbulb emitting life accepting life.

"Both of these suggest the force is an external agent existing outside oneself. But that is also a limitation of the metaphors we have. Some have described it as a wild stallion which we ride, but that implies we have control over it, which is only partially true. It is not so much something we control as we join with"

She saw herself, naked, riding the stallion of her life force as it moved her from here to there.

"Okay, Marcie. You can get up on the table now and relax. Lie on your back and let's get you comfortable." He had laid out the sheet over the duvet and gestured for her to lie on it. He watched as she pushed herself up lifting her legs; her pussy flashing him as she spread her legs to get balanced.

She shifted onto the cushions, working her body to the center of the table. The cushions moved beneath her, leaving gaps. She looked over to him for help.

"Hold on a sec." He reached under her and held the cushion while she pushed it with her back and cheeks. "Okay. Lift up a little; I want to get these arranged a little differently." He pushed on her waist, indicating where he wanted her to lift. As she pushed herself up, he moved two cushions together, overlapping their edges to create a small mound, adjusting it to just under her glutes. When she settled back down, her mid section was raised slightly.

He frowned and turned to the couch to retrieve two throw pillows. "Here, let's try this." He had her lift up, pushing the pillows on top of the overlapped cushions; he settled her down again. This time her pubis was the highest part of her body, her legs descending down to the table, her head comfortably resting on a cushion.

"Comfortable?"

She nodded, looking up at him. She was comfortable physically, but feeling very exposed and vulnerable. She closed her eyes trying once again to recover the light feeling.

"Fire," he said. "The last remaining element."

She jerked her eyes open and looked at him with a little fear, expecting to see a candle. Seeing nothing, she laughed softly and closed her eyes again, working to drop her heart rate.

"Do you know 'Breath of Fire?'"

She nodded.

"Okay. In a moment, I'll want you to begin breathing for 20 breaths. Remember, mouth closed, out fast, in relaxed through the nose. Think about the life force you collected from the Earth. Visualize the Air pulling it through you and the Water shaping it. Now we will set it in you with Fire. Go ahead and begin."

As she began the breathing, he drifted his fingertips up her body, starting with her toes, to the tops of her feet, her shins, her knees to her thighs. He paused briefly at her sex, rubbing slightly over her mound, pressing on her clit before continuing up past her belly. By the time he had arrived at her breasts she was done. He stopped. "Again. 20 breaths." She continued as did he. His fingers trailed up the bottom of her breasts to her nipples, stiff from the cold. Again he paused, leaving them draped across her, before continuing up to her mouth across her face to the top of her head. As he arrived she finished.

She felt warmer, her attention focused on the three points of her body he had stimulated the most. She could feel her labia swelling slightly, the thought of being stretched open to his gaze, laid bare on her dining room table added to the growing warmth.

"Are you getting warm?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes closed, focused on her growing arousal.

"Where are you feeling warmth?"

She smiled a little at the new game. "My nipples feel...cool on the outside, but a little warm from your touching them. My...lips..." she wriggled her fingers slightly to point to her sex, "are getting a little warm...my stomach is warm."

"Your...lips?" He drew a single finger across her vagina, her labia opening slightly at his touch. She moaned agreement. "Is that what you prefer to call this part of your body?" He dragged his finger across her again, this time it came away slightly moist.

She smiled again. "My...cunny. I like to call it my cunny. Ooohhhh..." She lifted her pelvis slightly as he placed his fingers on her 'cunny,' pushing slightly on her clit. He felt its stiffness through the skin above it.

"Are you getting warmer?"

She noticed in fact she was getting warmer. The small glow had moved outward, up to her diaphragm. She nodded.

"Let's get you a little warmer. Starting with the top of your head, tense up every muscle you can visualize and count to 3." She tensed the top of her head, her forehead wrinkling with the effort. "Good. Now your entire face, to 3." She complied and as she did, he pulled on her nipples just slightly, stiffening them. It distracted her, but she tensed through. "Excellent. Now the back of your head, to 3 again." She tensed as best she could while he laid his hands on her breasts. She could feel his warmth moving into her.

He had her tense and then relax each part of her body, her neck, shoulders, ribs, belly, thighs, knees, feet and toes, and each time, he toyed with her breasts, her labia or her clit, sending shocks of sweet arousal into her core. By the time she had finished, she felt a small sheen of sweat on her skin.

"You seem much warmer now. Am I right?"

"Mmmmm. It's nice."

"We're going into the last phase, now Marcie. The most intense phase. You are already feeling better about yourself, aren't you?" He waited for her to nod. "Okay. You've been very hard on yourself in spite of being less than honest; in spite of being distrustful of me and in spite of violating your own very high ethical standards. In spite of all those things you have been even harder on yourself than was necessary." As he admonished her, he spread her legs a little, exposing her cunny completely. "As a final phase in the ritual cleansing, you will forgive yourself as you give yourself to me."

He opened her lips with his index and middle fingers, coating them with her moisture. "This will be difficult for you, I know it, but you will feel so much better when it's over, and you will be able to leave your mistakes behind you. Do you trust me?"

She wasn't sure what to believe or trust. Splayed out, completely open to his eyes and hands, she knew she could put a stop to whatever he was doing anytime she wanted, but she didn't want him to stop. She was heating up from his touches; she was relaxed and she did trust he wouldn't hurt her. "Yes," she forced a whisper.

He could sense her excitement, her juices were starting to flow, her labia had thickened, her nipples were swollen. He pushed two fingers into her, slowly, moving with grace and with her breathing. "That's it, keep breathing. Feel my hand entering your core, touching your life force, the life force you have been building." He pulled his fingers out, coated with the thick fluids, a sign she wasn't yet fully aroused and smeared them across her lips.

Again, he pushed three fingers into her, spreading her open, moving with her breath, in, rest, in deeper, rest, out, rest, out completely, smear across her lips and inner thighs. And again, four fingers, stretching her to a point of discomfort. Holding. Rubbing his thumb gently over her swollen clit, forcing a moan from her. "Breathe, Marcie, breathe in and out. Relax. Relax your cunny and let me in." She moaned at the thought of what he was going to do, but she visualized his hand deep inside her and relaxed her muscles.

His fingers were slippery from her juices, his thumb continued to massage her. Her lips were spread open, her thighs glistening from sweat and from her liquid he'd begun to spread on them. "Again, breathe in and out." He pushed four fingers into her, making as small a cylinder as he could, penetrating her slowly, working with each breath. She arched her back opening herself to him moaning as he pushed against her.

As she exhaled, he pulled his fingers out, painting her with her juices: the top of her pubis, the insides of her legs, the joints of her thighs to her groin. She wanted him to lick her, to eat her, as he had done the other night, to pull a climax from her deep inside her. She pushed herself at him, hoping he would understand.

He spread her legs further, her heels now draped off the edge of the table, raising her middle higher, her back arched slightly. She felt like a virgin sacrifice on an altar, her very core exposed to her priest lover. His hand returned to her open slit and he again pushed four fingers into her, again resting his thumb against her clit. Slowly he moved them in a complex pattern: around, in, out, all maddeningly slowly and confusing. All the while his thumb stayed pressed to her clit, pushing against it. She could feel his fingers from inside her stimulating her. "Ohhhh shit, Monty...oh god...oh god." She'd never felt anything like it.