The Studio Ch. 01

Breakout

Luke looked out upon the mountainous South Asian landscape from the monastery terrace. He sat in Lotus pose, his hands resting on his thighs, his thoughts at peace. It had been a soul-saving sojourn--his six-month residence at the Buddhist monastery. The hospitable monks and nuns had empathized with the troubled young man who had arrived in desperate need of the curative powers of Zen.

Luke had fled the Wall Street corporate greed of 80-hour work weeks, filled with endless cycles of workday worry, alcohol-fueled nights, rebooted caffeine mornings, and weekend quickies and one-night stands. His life was a living purgatory headed towards hell. Scurrying back from a hurried lunch, he passed a travel agency's window display: a poster advertising a trip to an idyllic Shangri La, a remote, quiet place to meditate away life's social afflictions. It piqued his curiosity.

'Who uses storefront travel agencies these days with all the internet availability?'

No one. To Luke, it was a revelation; a sign from above, whoever you choose to believe was that entity looking out for your well-being.

He had taken a chance. It had been a long journey: planes, trains, and automobiles, ending at a Himalayan cliffside citadel after a last long walk along a stone-and-dirt paved path few chose to trod.

And now, 6 months in, he had completed his revival. He wasn't anywhere near the level of a monk, but a faithful adherent nonetheless. Based on ancient wisdom, the charitable monks advised him to return to his home and enrich his rejuvenation in familiar surroundings. He was sitting on the terrace, meditating on this last moment of tranquility before his journey home.

He was ready. Arriving at the monastery gates, he had been pudgy, breathing heavily on the last few miles of uphill trail. He had transformed himself: exercise, meditation, and a vegetarian diet had molded him into a lean, muscled physique with a serenity that he hadn't known existed in the world.

There was an intrusion on that serenity. Light footsteps approached. He opened his eyes to see the head monk escorting a female adherent from the nearby associated convent. The monastery and convent were of the same order, and the residents' interplay allowed both genders additional spiritual development.

Latka was also coming to the end of her enlightenment. After her father's untimely death, she had been sent to the city to live with her father's brother. The 18-year-old was not seen fit for a family-arranged dynastic marriage, so she had been assigned lowly kitchen duties. She was up early every day, preparing the morning chai. Her uncle had twice come to her before the others were awake and a struggle had ensued as he tried to rape her with his morning woody.

She had barely escaped both times, so her infuriated uncle had made the arrangements for her journey to the high mountain convent, a time and place for her to learn the ways that a well-mannered female attended to a man's sexual needs. And over the last months, the many nightly visits to the neighboring monastery or the visits by those gentle, patient monks to her convent chambers had taught her well.

It had started with her ceremonial deflowering. The nuns, the bhikkhuni, sat in a circle in the temple sanctuary around a dais lit by many candles. Latka lay on her back as a younger monk, summoned from the monastery, was virile, quick, and efficient in taking her maidenhood while the assembled nuns chanted the ritual prayers.

Thereafter, she entered a rotation of conjunctival encounters. She favored the enduring older monks who favored her youthful eagerness as well. They delayed their ejaculations, giving her extended time for carnal experiments, experiencing multiple orgasms in one setting.

Luke stayed seated, naked, in the lotus pose. Latka stood calm and attentive, a willing accomplice in a departing adherent's exit ritual. The old monk slipped the knot of Latka's translucent frock, which fluttered down to the stone-paved deck. The background scenery held no match to the revealed beauty of her face and form that had been hinted at through the thin body veil. Her long, braided hair hung in its single, intertwined strand down her back. She had also become a lithe, toned female, well-built for mating.

The old bald monk placed his hands in pressed palms mode before his chest, bowed to each, and back-shuffled away. Luke and Latka were left alone to consummate the farewell act.

Luke remained seated; Latka knelt and came before him on hands and knees. Her catwalk jiggled her nubile breasts beneath her, viewed between her walking arms. Her small round ass wobbled above her back in stride. He watched her approach serenely in his peripheral vision, knowing where this sendoff was headed. He maintained his composure by admiring the panorama of mountains beyond the veranda.

She kneeled up before him, eyes down, checking his cock. It was bigger, an Occidental size, unlike the lesser size of the Orientals she was used to. She saw this as an ultimate challenge, another lesson, in female servitude.

Without request or permission, she proceeded to play her role. Her hands reached in to fondle his soft manhood. The man staff was soft, warm and the knob prominent. Her fingers rubbed the skin of the shaft and the circumcised paler area below the corona. His body stayed in still pose, only his cock reacted, stiffening and elevating to a standing pole.

She rose on her knees and took a step either side of his hips, settling her ass in the cradle of his thighs and torso. His erection pressed against her labia. She wrapped her legs behind his back, locked angles, and clasped her hands behind his neck. He stared past her head, waiting for her to make the intimate connection.

Latka used her holds on his body to anchor hers for the forthcoming alignment. Her ass rose, wiggled to find his cock tip and pressed it into her nether orifice. She controlled the slow, steady penetration, feeling her core expand with the size of the manly intruder. Her voice whispered a moan of pleasure as she settled him all the way in, again and louder as his knob pressed hard against the backstop flesh of her diminutive channel.

She moved, sliding up and down on the stiff captured meat. Luke felt the warmth and wetness of his lap-borne mate. He left off his dreamy view of the horizon and focused his concentration on the human flesh surrounding his penetrating manhood. Her pace was slow and sensual, working his penile nerves with the proficiency she had acquired from the Kama Sutra practices taught by the monks.

And it was working. Much as he wanted to hold out, her skills were such that he rose quickly, more quickly than he wanted, and, hugging her softness to his toned body, erupted with geysers of cum in his little South Asian mate.

She hugged him back, running her hands over the little short hairs on his neck, down his back and rubbing a sweet palm over his exposed ass cheeks. She felt his body relax in her arms and held him tight as he loosened his hug. His cock was still rigid inside her as he made a move to uncouple, but she stopped him.

"No, no, my big man... we are not through. You have much more to give, and I want it all."

He halted his movements to let go. She hugged him close again and activated her vaginal muscles, holding him deep, working rhythms up and down his cock. He felt the vaginal massage and held fast. Her cunt compressions maintained his erection and in short order he spewed again, adding to his previous deposit. Again, he moved to decouple, but she wasn't having it.

"Once more... you have the capacity... I can feel it in your karma... please, once more..."

He acceded to her wishes, doubtful of the outcome. He had been trained during the past months to control his ejaculations, holding back to extend the sexual pleasure, even as the female partner had lost control with multiple orgasms during the fucks. He even had discovered he could make back-to-back ejaculations, but three times at once? It would be a final proof of his improved self.

Remarkably, his erection stood tall and steady, up to the challenge. Latka felt the undiminished cock in her cunt. She combined more techniques now: up-and-down, side-to-side, hip rolls that buffed the under-nook of his knob. She heard his breathing lose its serenity and knew she would succeed at this triple crowning achievement. She took her pleasure this time and joined him in his third ecstasy.

The conjoined students of the Kama Sutra teachings had melded their souls together in sexual nirvana on the terrace of the monastery in the mountains of paradise, as close to heaven on earth as humanly possible. Luke and Latka would forever remember this moment of bliss. It was the start of their new life journeys.

Luke's life would never go back to the old ways, even as he inverted his quest and returned to his home in America, embarking on a fresh start in life.

Latka would return to her uncle's house, properly indoctrinated in the carnal duties she owed to her deceased father's brother.

Home

Houston: home to the petroleum industry. It was built from the profits generated by the extractors, the refiners, the marketers, and ultimately the consumers of the legendary 'black gold'. It was far from the Wall Street hustle of Luke's former days, but rich enough for a vigorous young man to pursue his revised dream of a balanced life, finding a profession that garnered an income and provided time for life's pleasures.

The old warehouse in the urban setting was too small for an at-scale storage facility, but it was perfect for renovation into a cluster of individual rooms and spaces for the different activity studios Luke had in mind. The gutting and rebuilding process went smoothly, and the grand opening launched Luke into a new phase of client recruitment.

He had bumped into Margaret, she preferred Madge, during one of his supply runs. They chatted, and she was intrigued by his plans. She was a trust fund baby, living off her oil baron father's largesse.

Would he consider a financial partner? And Luke needed a front desk manager anyway, so why not? It wasn't until later that he became aware of her bi-sexual tendencies. And that turned out to be a boon, not a bust.

Luke and Madge had agreed that the clients would be exclusively female. They trolled the neighborhoods for the initial vivacious clients: gyms, malls, churches, and restaurants. They developed a list of invitees, a healthy nucleus of a dozen susceptible women. They were mostly affluent, young, and bored, trophy wives whose industrious husbands were less than devoted to their passionate needs. A few were newlyweds whose roughneck husbands were away for weeks, out on the gulf rigs or in foreign countries for extended tours. Each was offered a free month's trial. Thereafter, the classes and activities began in earnest.