Dynamic Wounded Pose Reference Novels & Stories

They started simple. Dynamic stretches on the mat: leg swings, arm circles, cat-cow. He stood behind her for the hip openers—hands on her waist “to guide the movement.” His palms were warm through the thin fabric of her bra. Fingers splayed wide. Thumbs brushing the dip of her lower back. “Deeper,” he said. “Push into it.” She did—arching her back, ass pressing back toward him “accidentally.” She felt him tense—felt the hard line of his cock twitch against her through his shorts.

He whispered the command, “Put your head down and extend your arms out in front of you with your wrists crossed, Thena.” In yoga it’s called Child’s Pose. It’s a vulnerable posture. I lowered my head in a submissive manner. My naked butt raised up in the air, exposed. I heard him unbuttoning his shirt and longed to look up at his strong physique. Instead, I waited for his instructions. Richard tied my wrists together with something soft. He stood beside the bed and caressed my shoulders, gently stroking downward. I tingled at his touch. Though I wanted it, I’d asked for it, we hadn’t had rough sex since Richard brought me to his house in Lake Forest.

“Now I want you to press your chest to the floor, and I want you to make sure you don’t let your bended knee fall flat.” Just like she said, I pressed my chest onto the floor till my breasts were placed hard against it, pressed and stayed down. “Oh nice, just like this.” She pressed my waist further to the floor, leaving my bum bare and exposed. I have never felt so vulnerable and exposed, yet so strangely entertained by the idea of learning poses. “Now this pose is called the dog pose.” She said, then kicked my legs apart. “The king would be behind you. He would claim you from behind, and it is important you retain this pose till he finishes.” She said.

So I keep my mouth shut. ….. After barely sleeping for three hours, I wake up to the loud sound of the TV. I rub my eyes and try to focus. “With your foot parallel and toes pointing to the top of the mat, bend your knee into a lunge.” The voice says, and I groan and stuff my face under a pillow. “Keep your left leg straight behind you and turn your left heel in at approximately 45 degrees.” Oh God, the sound is too loud. I don’t need to learn Warrior Yoga Pose first thing in the morning.

"Are you sure you should be doing these advanced poses? You don't want to pull a stitch or anything." "You know my stitches were removed last week," she said, standing back away from him so that she could try her pose without hitting him. "Okay--you don't want to reopen a wound then." "I'm fine, River," she told him, but he did have a point. She should be more careful. No super advanced poses that day. She stood on one leg and pulled her other one up behind her, striking King Dancer Pose, and held it for sixty seconds. Then, she put her other foot down, and River started clapping. "Well done!" he said.

She closed her eyes and counted her blessings, giving thanks for all the things in her life that she loved. She needed strength and unwavering determination today, so she decided to focus on standing positions that demanded perfect balance: The Triangle, The Half-Moon, The Tree, The Eagle, The Prayer. And of course, Warrior I and Warrior II, those beautiful, elegant positions that are like poetry written with the body.

“Piece of cake.” From there, she led him into sort of a lunge position she called “warrior one,” and then, deepening the lunge, she brought her arms down to shoulder level and extended them straight in front and behind her. “Welcome to warrior two.” Mimicking the pose, he felt the beginning of a burn in the thigh of his bent leg and the calf of his extended leg. She circled him and inspected his effort. Something about the feel of her eyes on him got his chi flowing—straight between his legs.

"We crawl. Fast. The secondary collapse on the surface is creating a ripple effect down here. This entire section could implode at any moment." As if emphasizing her point, another tremor shook the space, sending a fresh shower of dust and pebbles cascading around them. "Ready?" she asked, positioning herself to leverage the slab. Alex met her gaze steadily. "With you? Always." Something flickered in Sonia's eyes—vulnerability quickly masked by professional focus. "One... two... three!" With strength that belied her frame, she heaved upward on the concrete slab. Pain exploded through Alex's lower body as he dragged himself forward, every movement agony against his injured legs.

Gian replied innocently, though his mischievous eyes gave him away. Wina moved on to the first pose: the supported child’s pose. The mothers were instructed to kneel and lower their upper bodies forward with their arms stretched out in front of them, while their husbands stood behind them to provide support at their hips. Aurelia slowly lowered herself, feeling a gentle stretch across her back. Gian carefully placed his hands on her hips. But somehow, he positioned them wrong and nearly pushed Aurelia forward. “Oops! Sorry, sorry!” Gian quickly said, his face turning red when Aurelia looked back at him with an expression that was half annoyed and half amused.

Like the promotional pictures at the entrance, these photos of Bianca's figure were so stunning that they seemed somewhat distorted. Only her delicate face and fair skin seemed untouched. Frost carefully examined one of the photos. In the photo, Bianca was in the tiger pose in yoga, with her hands supporting the ground in front, one leg kneeling at a right angle, and the other leg extended high and straight backward, like a tiger's tail. Her head was raised high, exposing the elegant lines of her neck. The pose looked challenging, but Bianca's expression was confident and relaxed as if the pose came easily to her.