Landlord vs Tenant: Yoga Session

This is a prequel to my “Landlord vs Tenant Girls story where the past of Neha is explored. Thanks Rustyoznail for one again editing and bdrew86 for beta reading. Rusty had continued the story of Madiha and Neha in his series “India vs Australia“, Do check them out.

I guess Madiha might have given a very vague description about me in her recollections, but do remember that she has had more experience than me. It may not seem that way, but it’s true.

I was a foodie from childhood and chubby as far back as I can remember. I was not obese by any margin. I just had a few extra pounds on me, which people would call thicc nowadays. I didn’t mind that during my school days as I was busy with class and friends, but an incident a few years later in college shook my self-confidence and I resolved to slim down.

But what were my options? I didn’t want to run around the campus and make a fool of myself. The gym was something I wanted to try, but this was the early 2000’s when there were no unisex AC gyms. The only decent places were for large enforcers and serious bodybuilders. It was a sausage party, not a place for average women. I didn’t want to try any competitive sport, but then I had the idea of trying yoga. It was supposed to relax the body and mind, both of which I needed.

Despite being the birthplace of yoga, India did not have those swanky yoga centres other countries had until recently. Also, my college was in a small town so I wasn’t sure if there was even one in the area. I asked the watchman of our hostel if he knew anything. He was our Yellowpages of the entire area and would give us information for a small price.

The next day, the watchman handed me a slip of paper with a number on it. I called and a male voice answered. When I enquired about the classes, he asked me to come over in the evening so that we could talk further. His voice sounded confident and assured, so I went to the address after my classes had finished.

The Yoga centre was only around 15 minutes from my hostel. It was in the topmost room which was part of the terrace of a house. I knocked on the door and went in. I was greeted by a man in his late ’30s to early ’40s. He looked decent and very healthy which I thought was good for a yoga teacher. He introduced himself as the Guruji, or Teacher, and then asked about my problem. I told him that I wanted to lose weight.

He said that I’d come to the right place and then started giving me a history lesson of yoga and how Indians can tap the potential it gives. I phased out after two minutes. After a 15 minute lecture, I learned that he worked for a government office and he did yoga training for ‘passion’ or ‘dedication’ etc. He was worse than some of my college lecturers.

Guruji finally told me to be in the class at 5 am every morning for a one hour class. He asked me to bring the first month fees along with a coconut, a banana, and betel leaves to present as ‘Guru Dakshina’ or Offerings to the Teacher.

The next day, I was awake very early. It was cold at 4:30 am. I took a bath and brushed my teeth. I dressed in a full sleeve salwar suit to help keep me warm, but I also wasn’t a fan of showing a lot of skin as I was brought up in a very orthodox family.

I arrived at the centre and hesitantly went into a big carpeted room. Five men were sitting inside, eyes closed meditating. The Guruji was sitting in the front and as I cleared my throat, he opened his eyes and gave me a smile. All the other men did not open theirs.

‘Probably in deep concentration.’ I thought.

The Guruji asked everyone to open their eyes and he told them that I would also be a part of their team now. All of them surveyed me like I was a zoo animal.

I gave him the Guru Dakshina and then prostrated before his feet. I could hear sighs from the men behind. They were all in their 50s and 60s, most probably retired and had now decided to concentrate on their health when life was sunsetting on them.

I stood and sat in the last row as I wanted to be away from their gaze. I didn’t have much luck with boys due to my weight but it had never bothered me. I just felt a little bit uneasy with these men staring at me. I wasn’t afraid of them, just wary as I was the only hen in the cock house.

Guruji asked us to close our eyes for meditation but my inner sense could feel that the men were glancing at me now and then. I just decided to concentrate on what was being taught. The class was pretty boring as it was only theory. Guruji then made us do a few asanas. I had to keep adjusting my kameez as the slits kept parting and my naked waist was showing.

After the class, Guruji called me over and told me to wear more appropriate clothing so I could do asanas better. I didn’t know what was ‘appropriate’. Should I wear shorts? Skirt? Track pants? I was also in two minds about asking if I could have a separate class but I didn’t know how to explain that I didn’t like the stares from the old men.

Later that morning, I was in the Electric Motor practical class and thinking about whether I should continue with my yoga class. I could hear the two boys at the next desk whispering something and giggling. I looked around for the reason for their childish behaviour and realised they were staring at my classmate, Riddhi. She was adjusting the electric motor’s belt and pressure to take the readings for the experiment. Her dupatta failed to cover her chest at such angles and they could partially see her breasts.

Riddhi was blessed with 34D breasts which were in contrast with her thin waist. That combination made her a very well known celebrity around the college. I could faintly see an inch of cleavage every time she bent down. I was shocked as I observed these guys. They stared at her non-stop for a full 45 minutes till the class was over.

I wanted to immediately caution Riddhi who seemed totally unaware of her exposed cleavage, but I knew how the professor barked whenever we talked or even moved from our places. I thought that these guys were so cheap. How could you stare at some piece of flesh non-stop for so long? Ridiculous. Yet true. I couldn’t imagine what kind of pleasure they got from that.

That evening, during dinner, I reluctantly told Riddhi about this as I felt guilty for not warning her during class.

“Oh,” she replied nonchalantly. I was shocked. How could someone be so cool after what those pervs did?

“What else are you expecting me to do?” she asked. “Catch them by the collar and ask why they looked? Ever since I had this growth spurt, I’ve been ogled by everyone. My sports teacher asked me to wear a better fitting dress even though it was the mandated uniform they gave everyone. At first, I used to feel so cheap and vulnerable. It was like they were raping me in their minds.”

She sniffed and shrugged. “But then I realised, I can’t stop enjoying life just because of these oglers. What’s the maximum that can happen? They might ogle me and then jerk off? I’m not wearing a miniskirt or bikini to display my wares? If you still can’t stop ogling me in a salwar then the problem lies in you, not me.”

I could see her slowly erupting with anger but trying to control herself. I could also see other girls nodding in agreement. That night, I was unable to sleep, Riddhi was right. I had made a big decision to reduce my weight. I couldn’t back out just because a few old pervs were staring at me. So what if I exposed the slightest bit of skin in my yoga class in front of those old men? Their wives would also be so old. What if I could have some fun teasing these old souls? I smiled and went to sleep with a plan.

The next morning when I woke up, I decided to ease back on my power dressing skills. I wore a salwar, but this one had a very interesting cut towards the sides. Though it did not initially reveal any skin, it would be interesting if he asked me to lift my hands as the side of my stomach would be revealed. I reached the venue and found everyone already present. They all eyed me, then quickly looked away. Disappointment for them again, but I was smiling inside. The Guruji asked us to do some stretching exercises first. He directed us to stretch our hands forward and then lift them up.

That was exactly what I was waiting for. I lifted my hands to the maximum extent possible. I knew that some skin around the side of my stomach was revealed as cold air hit my bare skin. I slowly looked out of the corner of my eyes and saw one old man had noticed the lift of my salwar top and some fair skin was visible to him. I was sure Guruji had also noticed because he made us stay in the stretched position for a considerably long time. I was feeling happy inside. After the session, I went to Guruji and asked him about some doubts I had with different Asanas. The rest of the class crowded next to me. They just wanted to be close to me.

I went to college completely elated with my new outlook on life. The classes went on blissfully and I could hardly concentrate. All I could think of was what to wear tomorrow. I didn’t want to degrade myself too soon. I wanted the old guys to literally pray to God that they could have a slight glimpse of my body.

After much deliberation, I wore a t-shirt with buttons and track pants. Ideally, this should have covered me better than my salwar kameez with slits except I tied the pants so low that they were sitting below my navel. I stood in the mirror and looked critically at myself. My body was covered but when I lifted my hands, there was a peek of skin below. Just the way I wanted it.

I went to the class with butterflies in my stomach. I noticed that they had arrived well ahead of me and they sat with three in the back and two in front with enough gap in between for me to sit. This way, everyone had a clear view of me without any obstacles.

‘Well played.’ I thought to myself and sat in their planned spot.

The first half an hour was only meditation where we needed to fold our hands and keep saying ‘OM’ loudly. I guess they were having no fun. Then Guruji asked us to lie on our backs, bend the knees and lift the back to form a right angle triangle.

My t-shirt predictably fell and my navel was on display. I could feel the others marvel at it despite my closed eyes. I pretended that I didn’t notice and was concentrating on the inhaling and exhaling techniques. I could feel that my stomach was going up and down due to my breathing.

I smiled to myself. I bet none of the others had their eyes closed. Guruji asked us to lift our hands up and it only revealed more of my tummy to them. My tummy wasn’t flat but it wasn’t that flabby either.

Guruji asked us to stand up and stretch our hands then bend down. I bet they had a bit more of me to glimpse. The class finished and I rushed back to the hostel. My heart was beating very fast and I felt a tingling sensation in my thighs. Despite taking a bath before the classes, I immediately rushed to the bathroom and undressed. I could feel that my panties were wet with discharge. I couldn’t believe that I had gotten so excited by a few grandpas watching my body.

The next few weeks were total bliss. I would choose my dress erratically. One day, it would be a t-shirt and ¾ track pants to reveal a bit of my legs. The next day I would tie my pants so high so that they couldn’t see any skin at all. I would purposefully open two buttons of my t-shirt and then suddenly pretend to notice them and close them. One day I purposefully reached class at 4:50 and occupied the last row wearing a kameez with a slit and a low waist salwar just to tease them. The next day when I arrived at 4:50, they were already there as if they had slept overnight. They were waiting for me. That made me feel really good. It was fun teasing these guys as I never had boys trying to impress me so far.

The oldies were not pushovers either. They must have somehow convinced Guruji to assist with their lewd thoughts as he would call me as a volunteer to do some asana especially on the days I wore the more sexy clothes. He would also call others but the probability of me ending up as a volunteer was higher than all of them combined.

One day I arrived and they were all bunched together in a heated discussion with Guruji. The moment they saw me they immediately stopped and slunk back to their respective places. I knew something was up but I didn’t think much of it. I just did my regular class and went home.

That night, there was a heavy thunderstorm and my clothes which I had washed and hung to dry were still wet. I didn’t have anything for yoga other than tight jeans which were very painful for stretching, although I was sure the old guys would enjoy looking at my ass. I rummaged through my things and only found a medium sized skirt that might be ok but it wouldn’t be good if I had to lift my legs up. Guruji would definitely make us do that move if I wore it. I remembered their secret discussion and my mind told me that the rain gods were stopping you from going, so take a break today.

Another part of me wanted to know what their plan was and how they would execute it. Against my better judgment, I wore the skirt with a five button shirt. Underneath was a black bra and panty set. It looked respectable but I felt like that I was getting dressed for the lion’s den.

I reached the class and the moment they saw me, I could hear a few murmurs. I guess they knew that a skirt would expose a lot during asanas and they were surprised I wore it. We all sat and did the meditation as usual.

After the meditation, Guruji asked for a volunteer. I knew I would be selected due to my skirt but he selected another gentleman.

“I cannot Sir, as I’m getting pain due to the stretching exercise you made me do yesterday,” he replied.

“That’s because you are not maintaining your body well,” answered Guruji. ” How about you Neha? Do you have any body pain due to stretching?”

I knew I would be called for asanas if I said no, so I lied. “Yes, Guruji. I’ve had some neck and back pain since yesterday.”

“Oh really?” asked Guruji. “I didn’t know this. I guess it’s because you are not relaxing your muscles after stretching. Don’t worry, today I will show you some basic massaging techniques to help you after a long day of exercise. They work wonders.”

He waved his hand at the class. “You can do it to your partners or teach them to do it. Pay good attention.” he added. “Anyone want to volunteer?”

There was pin drop silence and every second felt so slow as if the entire clock was stopped.

“How about Neha beti?” said someone from the second row. “We all have our wives to help us, but bechari, she has no one.”

“Yeah right,” said another. “It’s natural for old people like us to get back pain. But if a young girl gets it, it’s better to be treated by an expert.”

I was in a state of shock. My throat had dried. I could feel six pairs of eyes staring at me. Cunning bastards, so this was their real plan and I swallowed the bait, hook, line, and sinker. I didn’t know what to say. It would look bad if I backed out.

I still had that choice and my mind was contemplating how to say no without hurting anyone. But Guruji had changed his tactics. He looked at me and asked if I could trust him. My entire face went red. How could I say no at this juncture after all these weeks? I just nodded my head and stood up.

I looked into the eyes of Guruji but I couldn’t sense any malice in them. That gave me a bit of confidence. He instructed one of the oldies to put additional mats down so I would feel more comfortable.

He made me lay on the combined mats while the rest circled around me. Guruji asked me to lift one of my hands and started massaging my palm. He said something about ‘some chakras’ that reside in the palms and they should massage them. I bet the onlookers too were not concerned about the theory and more focused on the practicals. He then kept massaging my wrists, elbows, and forearms. He did the same for the other hand. He repeated the steps for both sides three more times.

After five minutes of rubbing my hands and up my arms to my bare shoulders, Guruji shifted his focus onto my jaws and neck. He was simultaneously explaining the importance of thyroid glands on the neck and stroking below my chin to the end of my neck. He gently pressed some glands near my neck. He then started making long strokes from below my chin to my collarbone. He said using long strokes was more effective than short ones.

As the length of his strokes increased, his hands started hitting the top button of my shirt. I wasn’t sure if it was deliberate, or he was too busy explaining to notice. I just kept my eyes shut tight.

The group was asking various questions about chest pain and pain in ribs etc. My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid that Guruji might actually hear it. Guruji then asked if he could loosen my shirt at the top a little bit. I wanted to ask him how exactly he wanted to go about doing it but I resisted. I just nodded. Getting a green signal, Guruji did the unthinkable. He simply brought his hand down onto my shirt and undid the first two buttons. My heart skipped a beat. I was shell shocked. I opened my eyes to say something.

But Guruji gave me a smile and slowly shifted my shirt to either side. The top half of my body was in clear view to everyone. He started massaging the top part of my chest. My cleavage was in full view of the men. He slowly started pressing my chest and gave a circular massage with his fingers constantly running over the top of my breasts. I was actually feeling good. He then told me that he would teach everyone how to work on the legs. He did not button my shirt and left me in that exposed position.

He then started massaging my legs. At first, he started stroking from my knee downward but soon he slowly pushed my skirt up with each stroke. He told the group that thigh muscles are the most susceptible to muscle pull and he would teach them how to cure it. Without my permission, he slowly raised my skirt upward. I was getting worried now. He was not stopping. He raised my skirt till my entire thigh was on display to all. With a loud clasp, he caught my inner thigh and started caressing it. He was running his hand over my thighs without any pattern. He was quite aroused by now, I guess.

My body was loving the sensation of Guruji’s hand running all over me. He then stopped and told the disciples about navel massage and how it was the most amazing thing. Everyone was quite eager to see my navel now. I was now lying with the top two buttons open and my skirt nearly lifted all the way to my panties. Guruji then told me that my shirt material was a little thick and he should adjust it a little bit for a better massage. I nodded. Guruji immediately released the bottom two buttons of my shirt and spread it apart to bring my stomach in full view of the hungry old men around me.

Only one lonely warrior button on my shirt now held on with all its might, trying to protect my ‘honour’ in front of them. Guruji very slowly touched my navel with his bare hands, tickling me. Goosebumps appeared all over my stomach. Guruji very carefully touched every inch of my bare stomach in front of the men. He started caressing my belly button after some time. He then asked if I could loosen my skirt but without waiting for a reply, he unhooked my skirt and slowly pulled down the zipper on the side.

Guruji started playing with my stomach. He gave me long strokes over my stomach which pushed my skirt down further. After a couple of strokes, my skirt had fallen so far that my panty was becoming visible to everyone. Guruji told me to lift my hips. I slowly lifted them and he pulled the entire skirt hem to below my hips, bringing my panty in full view. I sat up. Guruji told me to relax and that he would keep the skirt near me. Saying this, he started pulling my skirt fully down and slipped it out from under my legs.