A Hot Yoga Class

Two weeks had passed since Sonia moved in, and Jenny’s little paradise was coming along beautifully. With the help of the Tablet, she had been sculpting the neighborhood subtly but effectively: banning **** and sexual ****, increasing the number of queer-friendly spaces, and spreading a soft undercurrent of sensual liberation. The changes were small but purposeful—just enough to guide the world gently toward her vision without stripping away the surprise.

Her job was still the same dull drag, and the apartment could definitely use a facelift, but what mattered most was Sonia. Her creation. Her roommate. Her occasional lover. And perhaps her muse.

“Hey Jen! Wanna hit a yoga class tonight?” Sonia’s voice called out from her room. A moment later, her head popped around the corner, her smile playful.

Jenny looked up from her spot on the couch and couldn’t help but grin. Sonia stood there in tight, slate-gray yoga pants that hugged every curve of her thighs and ass like they’d been sculpted just for her. Her matching sports bra pushed her generous cleavage into an irresistible shape, and her dark hair was swept up into her trademark messy bun. With her silver nose ring catching the light and that air of untamed confidence, Sonia was a walking fantasy.

“I’m down,” Jenny said, standing up and stretching. “What kind of class?”

“‘Really, Really Hot Yoga,’” Sonia replied, tossing her a glossy brochure. “You’ll love it. Sweaty, stretchy, spiritual...and very, very sexy.”

Jenny skimmed it and smiled. She recognized the class—it was one of her subtle implants into the world’s narrative a week ago. But the instructor was new. Alicia. An older Indian woman with a reputation for being both strict and deeply compassionate. Interesting, she thought. That part must’ve emerged on its own.

She slipped into her powder-blue yoga set—cropped tank and capri tights—and headed out with Sonia. The studio was warm and softly lit with candles, the air thick with incense and anticipation. A group of women were already on their mats, and at the front stood Alicia. Petite, dark-skinned, perhaps in her 40s, with eyes that shimmered with quiet intensity.

“Welcome,” Alicia said, her voice smooth and melodic. “Tonight, we focus on our core. On flexibility. On breath. Let’s begin.”

As the class flowed through a series of increasingly complex poses, Jenny found herself trailing behind the others. Her back tensed with pain, and she winced, trying not to cry out.

Alicia noticed and approached with feline grace. “Is everything alright, Miss?”

Jenny gritted her teeth. “Just a sharp pain in my lower back. Nothing serious.”

“It’s more common than you’d think,” Alicia replied, kneeling beside her. “Let me help. I’m quite experienced in therapeutic massage.”

“I don’t want to interrupt—”

“Nonsense,” Alicia said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Come with me.”

Jenny followed her to a corner mat, lying face down as Alicia’s hands began to work their magic. Her fingers pressed deep into Jenny’s muscles, slow and practiced, radiating heat and pleasure with every touch. Jenny moaned softly as the pain dissolved beneath her skin like ice melting in the sun.

“You’re quite flexible,” Alicia said, her hands moving lower, sweeping over Jenny’s hips and thighs. “You must have a dancer’s soul.”

Jenny was too blissed-out to reply.

When Alicia motioned for her to roll over, Jenny did so—and blinked. Alicia was changing. Her features were softening, lips plumping, her cheekbones more prominent. Her formerly modest chest swelled beneath her tank top, the fabric stretching taut around breasts that now demanded attention. Her transformation was smooth and seamless, as if this radiant, youthful goddess had always been there beneath the surface.

“Better?” Alicia asked, brushing a lock of dark hair from her newly glowing face.

Jenny nodded, still caught somewhere between awe and arousal.

The class finished with meditative breathing, but Jenny was far from centered. Her thoughts swirled with what she’d seen. What she’d felt.

Afterward, Jenny and Sonia lingered, chatting in the humid afterglow of the session. Alicia approached them with a smile that was just a little too knowing.

“Excuse me, ladies. May I borrow a moment?” Her breasts—now comically large yet gorgeously proportioned—bounced with every step, but she remained poised, even maternal. “I’ve been watching you both. You’re incredibly agile and seem to connect well with others. Would you consider becoming instructors here? We’re expanding and I think you'd fit in perfectly.”

Jenny and Sonia exchanged a look.

“Seriously?” Sonia asked, blinking.

“I’d love that,” Jenny added without hesitation.

“Then come with me,” Alicia said. “We’ll talk... privately.”

She led them to a back office, where soft music and lavender incense greeted them like an invitation. They discussed schedules, class styles, and certification options. It all felt strangely formal—until Alicia leaned in, her voice hushed.

“The last two instructors, I should warn you... they quit. After an incident.”

Jenny cocked an eyebrow. “What kind of incident?”

“They were involved with each other,” Alicia said, glancing at the door. “Sexually. It got... heated. One ended up in the hospital.”

“Wow,” Sonia said with a devilish grin. “Sounds kind of hot.”

Jenny smirked, hiding her blush.

That night, Alicia invited them to dinner. Jenny suspected something—perhaps remembered something—and when Alicia extended the offer, she could already feel her body warming in anticipation.

Sonia had already accepted.

As the evening progressed, the three women drank wine, shared stories, flirted lightly. Jenny found herself distracted by the way Alicia’s silk top clung to her chest, the faintest outline of those new breasts visible beneath.

“So how did you two meet?” Alicia asked.

“We’re roommates,” Sonia answered quickly.

“Pity,” Alicia said, eyes twinkling. “You’d make such a lovely couple. I imagine... you'd be magnificent lovers.”

Jenny choked slightly on her wine. Sonia only laughed.

“Depends on the night,” she said coyly.

Jenny excused herself to the bathroom, her pulse racing. She pulled the Tablet from her purse and typed quickly. A script suggestion appeared—something deliciously appropriate.

“Jenny and Sonia both have strong sexual urges. Alicia perceived this and invited them to dinner to seduce them. She’s been hiding enormous breasts under her yoga attire and is a highly skilled lover. She offers a threesome with no consequences to their employment.”

She pressed Confirm. The ripple hit her immediately—memories rearranged, scenes rewritten. It was already part of her story now.

She returned to the table flushed and smiling.

“You look radiant,” Alicia said. “Would either of you like a massage? I promise I’m even better outside the studio.”

“Sure,” Sonia purred. “I could use a little tension release.”

“Then follow me.”

They followed Alicia down a candle-lit hallway into a bedroom that looked straight out of a dream: silken sheets, plush pillows, soft amber light flickering along the walls.

Alicia stood by the bed in a black silk robe, her figure outlined in shadow. She untied it slowly, revealing breasts that defied gravity and a sculpted body that belonged on a goddess. She slipped the robe off, letting it fall silently to the floor.

Jenny and Sonia gasped. Alicia’s body was art.

“Come,” she said, patting the bed. “Let’s begin.”

They approached, trembling with anticipation.

Alicia’s hands began on Jenny—slow, firm, purposeful. Her lips found Jenny’s neck, her breath hot against her skin. Sonia, meanwhile, was gently urged onto the bed, Alicia’s hands now working her hips, her thighs, the curve of her ass.

“Oh, fuck,” Sonia gasped.

Jenny moaned as Alicia’s fingers slipped under her waistband. Her body arched into the touch.

“You’re both exquisite,” Alicia whispered. “Let me show you what true pleasure feels like.”

And she did.

The night unfolded like a fever dream—full of soft gasps, eager hands, and bodies entwined. The boundaries between them melted as tongues explored, fingers danced, and the three women lost themselves in a symphony of sensation.

This was paradise, Jenny thought, breathless beneath Alicia’s skillful touch. And it was only the beginning.