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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' o1
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
% To prevent the spread of disease new yoga mats were used in each chapter of this partially true story.
%
"Mathieu Jean-Luc Gilles-Norbert."
"Norbay?" he catches the last two syllables, even though 'Mat-tee-uu' wasn't tough to pick up on.
Mat smiles. It's how he's always introduced himself, rattling off his long, punctuated name as fast as possible. He found it comical, stumping a guy on repeating it, which to this date no one has achieved.
Slowing it down, "Mathieu. Jean. Luc. Gilles. Norbert." Then Mat hastily assembling it one of more time, for the benefit of the hot man who picked him out of the crowd, "Mathieu Jean-Luc Gilles-Norbert."
"Right," the hottie still didn't process. "Uh, mind if I call you Mat?"
"Depends," Mat could tell he was driving the dude crazy.
"On?"
"Your name?"
"Oh. My name. Yeah, it's Tom. Tom McCormick."
"I'm a yoga teacher."
That's a self-criticism Mat's always been aware of, offering too much about himself, without letting the other guy get a word or two in. Well, he wasn't running away, which gave Mat an indication of sole interest in himself and not any of the other hundreds of men at the Tea Party!
Quite popular in high school, Mat knew a lot of pranks and other items of joking, which he and his friends play, wherever they went. Some got them into serious trouble, like the lifeguard on a beach, who hopped down off his chair when Mat decided to reach up between his bud's legs, grab him by the crotch, causing him to keel over onto his belly. Well, the lifeguard wasn't able to catch up with Mat until later, telling him doing stuff like that was not appropriate on a public beach. Being they were near the lifeguard station, he took Mat to private quarters and as a bribe, had Mat grabbing at 'his' balls!
Of the yoga teacher, Tom says, "that's nice. So, what sparks your interest?"
"Oh," Mat folds arms across his middle, separating that lovely trails down his abs, he assumes an alpha position of authority, "I could think of a few million things to keep both of us busy?"
Mat had it all, as a college student, but never lost the good looks, fox bod, beautiful pattern of hair down the middle, nice endowment, things a lot of men look for at parties such as this.
"Anything in particular?"
Getting comfortable with the conversation, the dude puts a hand up over a surfboard, stuck with the tip in the sand as a holding place. Not his board, he doesn't realize the implications of his action. Leaning too far to his right, he loses balance and not wanting to damage the expensive item tries to recover, holding it to his chest and 'bam'! Himself and the board are lying flat on the sand.
He loved it! It was like something him and his buddies would do whenever they got the chance to spring break at a southern shore town.
"Well, that was dumb!"
Not totally, Mat loved the view, the tanned back, tight speedo and the way it formed around the dude's mounds.
The view from Tom's perspective wasn't much different, except the front of the shorts looking more inflated than what an ass can do for a man.
Doing half a pushup Tom was spitting sand, "yeah, I guess I've created a failed impression of myself?"
"Or either you can't hold your liguor, or you really know how to fall for a guy?" Matt knew they were under surveillance, and having glanced around, could see half a dozen hot men wanting to move in with life saving assist, "here, let me give you a hand, um," Mat purposefully, "forgot your name?"
"Tom," he takes Mat's hand. "I feel like a real klutz," he uprights himself.
Mat in a really good mood, says, grabbing Tom's hand, "better you proved it now, instead of much, much later."
Brushing sand off, "this klutzy one thanks you for the assist."
Going on the men around them who missed out, Mat says, "figured I better hurry and offer before someone else snagged the hottest man on the beach!"
"Second hottest, you mean?"
He knew his face was 'asking', who.
Tom didn't wait for Mat to pop the question. Minutes before he intentionally ran into Mat at the party, he had spotted him from a balcony at the resort he stayed at. A grad student, he wasn't much into fratguys, more older, but this one beauty he couldn't pass up, which made Tom ditch standards, "come here."
He didn't give Mat a chance, Tom grabbing him by the back of the neck, reeling him in for a kiss!
Mat's surprised, "oh shit," being that was supposed to be 'his' next move.
"Sorry for doing that," which Tom was not, based on the fact he didn't believe in love at first sight, but breaking all the rules, his mentality was leading him that way, at least partially, being his balls also were boiling.
Both, at once, decide they better get it out, saying hurriedly in sync, "do you believe in love at first sight?"
It has them both gazing. Then both laughing. Then both become more subdued and serious.
Mat felt dumb afterwards, "why don't you buy me a drink?"
That perked Tom up, "sure. What'll it be? Beer? Wine?"
"Actually," Mat smiles, "I was thinking more something 'man-manufactured?"
He knew he had stumped Tom, "which is?"
Mat then thinks he's moved too fast, changing from thinking Tom's lips clinging to the end of his hard shaft, "how about something herbal, like a mixture of lion's mane mushrooms, yerba mate and damiana, which gives it a full-bodied and bittersweet bite?"
"You sound like a commercial."
"Do I?"
It was no different than hearing Mat ratttle off his full name, Tom, eager to further his acquaintance, leaves it like he got it, "oh right, the erba mane dame bitters, I think I've heard of it."
It was already Tom's statement, the kiss, that had Mat thinking he was madly in love with him, whether it was first impression or a genuine psychic vision, which had him thinking nothing he could say could drive a wedge between their feelings right now, "liar."
Tom's jaw drops, "I can't believe you said that!"
Standing by what he felt, but at the same time thinking how cute Tom was acting, Mat affirms, "I'll give you a chance to deny it?"
Because he had passed a group of leathermen on the beach, it stuck in Tom's mind, which had the power of suggestion too great to ignore, "okay, I have no idea what you're talking about. So, punish me!"
He waited to see if they were both on the same wavelength.
"Don't take this wrong, but when you were lying on that surfboard, I had a great urge to punish that butt!"
They laughed it off, Tom feeling a pulsing in his crack, "hmm, maybe I should rent a surfboard!"
Standing there, Mat was contemplating, at the same time suggesting, "you better pick up the one up you knocked over. The owner is coming and he'll be pissed."
"Where?" Tom looks over the top of the ocean of heads.
This lanky guy with long hair, Carhart shades, which he prolly thought were cool, comes by, accusing, "I thought you were going to watch my surfboard for me, Mat?"
Tom's eyes are up and down the guy, but comes into focus when Mat says, "I was Mike, until this guy comes over and knocks it down. I thing he's drunk," he furthers pranking Tom, "because he tried to ride it on the sand!"
For the second time Tom's jaw drops.
Mat says, "cut him a break, Mike on account of he's probably going to be my new boyfriend."
"Seriously?" Mike says, after picking up his board, which he purposefully kept from blocking his view of the hot man. "Dammit, Mat, you seem to have all the luck," he knuckle bumps his friend. To Tom he says, "you're off the hook buddy."
Something he always felt for Mike, he hoped by surfing he would be able to connect with a man but his social skills were nil, which is why he puts his new bf-hopeful on the spot, "but I'm sure you'll extend that forgiveness of your loving heart, if Tom does something special for you?"
Tom was starting to have second thoughts as to why he bothered waning through the crowd of men to find the man he spotted from the balcony. It took him all of two seconds to realize it was worth it, "okay. What do you want me to do, and don't say you want me to fuck you."
"Of course not," Mike says adamantly, "No, I was thinking maybe the other way around," he snickers, thinking sometimes the power of positive thinking can actually bring positive reactions. "Hey, you been to the leather exhibit?"
Tom says, "not yet. You dabble?"
Mat could've answered it for Mike, but let him sail his own ship.
"Oh, I more than dabble!"
Tom looks for Mat's reaction, "oh yeah, Mike more than dabbles, trust me."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'd give you a demonstration, but my surf buddies are waiting for me. Have Mat pass my number along. I can give you a rough time, if you're craving it."
Tom's attention comes back to Mat, "he for real?"
"One hundred percent, but let me give you a tip. Mike more likes the sidelines, standing there with his dick out and stroking. He leaves the heavy stuff up to his surf pals."
"You've seen it?"
"Mike is one of my yoga clients. He invited me to one of his gatherings. Trust me, you play with them, you play rough."
"Rough, like how does that go?"
"Actually, Mike calls it rough, but if a dude doesn't lie, saying he's new to it instead of allowing his ego to get in the way and tell at the beginning of the gathering he's 'no limits', it could get rough and the fallout later on will make him never want to experience it again."
"So, you're no stranger to s&m?"
"Is there more than what Mike's buddies do?"
"I don't know. I haven't witnessed, but from my own experiences, it can be a hell of an endorphin high!"
That leather exhibit, a composite of simple bdsm, was beach-designed to draw attention to a much bigger society, taking place further inland, at a facility with a bigger expanse of bondage equipment, and closets and cabinets full of toy applications. In the center of the crowd of beachgoers, a man's attention would have to be strongly set on something else of importance to ignore the wooden flooring set on the sand. Fixtures for binding men to were atop the wooden panels, knock down tables with binding ropes attached, slightly upright and bent at an angle meant for stretching a man eagle-spread, and a third structure, looking like a hangman's brace, was used for the purpose of binding a man's wrists together and an option, legs could be tied outstretched to make easy access to a man's crotch. Occasionally the promoters, alpha men from the s&m club, would get a muscled guy, by his own volition, wanting to be hung from the hangman's tower by bound ankles, arms dangling out to the sides, mouth more than willing to receive the catch for the day! A triangular holding rack, holding various devices to apply to nips or other places on the chest or stomach, were attached to metal gridding. Purposed to launch fantasies and desires, the promoters kept it simple. For instance, a taste of what could be taken away, easy to adhere nip clamps, flat rubber-tipped devices would give a man quite a sting. They loved it when a braggart would happen by, saying he could take a lot of pain, badgering to have increase to the jaw tension, sending his shaft over the deep end. Men coupled beforehand, or a found relationship after entering the 'Darkroom' portion of the Tea Party, a keen eye could pick out the alpha to his submissive mate, even before the pair realized how things were shifting. No fail, the promoters, with the expertise and know-how, could pick out a man who yearned to have something more beyond this beach exhibition, approaching them when their euphoria began to die down. Often a dead giveaway was the gel dribbling from their shafts, or seeping through the lycra-packed loin cloths. From an event such as this the promoters, in particular, Rick, would spot a man seriously thinking about furthering his education, stick a plastic-coated business card between skin and lycra, uttering some snappy phrase like, 'I know you want more', adding a crafty smile and waiting only a second for reply. He then dodged locking eyes, wanting the experience of having nips clamped, producing a flow of goo to sit with his mark.
Things seemed to come to a standstill for Mat and Tom, but hearing a loud yelp, it startled the two back into consciousness.
"Hey," Tom says, with suggestion on his mind, "have you been over to the exhibit?"
Mat, nineteen years old, thought of Tom as older, but not more ten years. Since meeting him, his attention was not just on that hot, hairy chest, nice stomach, but what lay prisoned in that lycra bag, "no, I haven't. Am I missing something?"
Mike had dropped his bucket hat, "dropped my hat, was back in time just to answer the question, "Mat doesn't go in for that stuff, but I'd sure love to get you in a bind, if you catch my drift, dude?"
Not ready yet to leave this hottie in his surf-buddy's hands, "though, I haven't really involved myself in it, so how would I know?"
He got an evil smirk from Mike, but as it goes, if Mat hadn't been there while he was surfing, he might be in sufer's heaven right now, so relinquishes his mental grip, "well dudes, a wave is beckoning for my attention."
Surely, where Tom was concerned, even though Mike was on the nerdy side, the will to dominate was strong and that he could take, no matter what the physical facade projected, "easy come, easy go. Well, are you game?"
With Tom tugging at Mat's hand, like leading him to a lover's grove, he says, "do I have a choice?"
Like he had the ins and outs, the know-how, Tom raves, "trust me, you're gonna love it."
When they got to about three-deep in the crowd of onlookers, Mat says, "promise?"
He didn't know what else to say, except that his hand happnened to brush by Mat's pouch and could picture at any minute, goo oozing out of the speedo, "hey, if you're not really into it, we could pass?"
It was a serious decision. Being they just met, it would be a terrible thing to have a guy who he instantly fell for, reasons of having a cute demeanor, hot bod and an age of which he felt he wasn't robbing the cradle, "nah."
Mat figured Tom was quite pumped up and he doesn't mean doing progressive up and down dogs, although in his all-male, nude yoga classes, often there would be dribble on a guy's yoga mat at the end of session.
He wondered if Tom was serious a few moments prior, or was he seeking out a guy to alter his ego. To find out, Mat jokes, "hey, my boyfriend wants to whip me, can you set us up?"
Whatever his title, he was the 'president' of the club, standing there in an all-leather getup, leather pants, bulging center region, looking like something was readying to bust out, and as Mat's head lifted, he could feel his jaw drop, a lush bed of hair from navel to pecs and settling on the bearded face, he listened for a response to Tom's inquiry.
"I take it you're the boyfriend?"
Tom says, "this is Mat. I'm Tom."
Not Mat, the grisly character turns to Tom, "you allow your boy to speak like that?"
'Boy'? It almost made Mat laugh out loud, but seeing the mean ogre being serious as hell, "uh, no." And with that humorous attitude, much like his buds from long ago setting the stage for a prank, "if you want, I can show you what I do?"
Tom was following like with a vengeance, "hell yeah!"
From Tom's outburst, the idol of alpha toughness says, "he's really out of control."
"I know," Mat, replies and going on what goes on around them, "he probably needs a good whipping."
Anyone could tell the head honcho has been at this a long time, or so it would seem, the bits of graying hair on his chest, down his stomach. Yet, at about six feet tall, it seemed he could carry the weight of both his muscled bod and big ego, "Sam," he calls out the name.
A younger, yet just as fierce looking guy approaches the place where the trio stand.
Right off, there's a recollection of thoughts, Mat saying, "Sam, is that really you?"
"Oh, hey sensei, I didn't know you were into the leather scene?"
Even though a yoga instructor and not of the martial arts, Sam always addressed him as 'sensei', which Mat thought was 'cute', being his student was just as so, "I'm not. Well, not until now."
The promoter didn't have to question Sam knowing Mat or Mat knowing Sam, whichever of the two had introduced themselves as such, but the fact Tom knew how things went and Mat not having the foggiest, "oh, so you've never disciplined a man before?"
"And what about you? Serious or another wannabe?"
Sam had heard this conversation over and over again, knowing his boss could get a little perturbed over guys pretending to be who they were not, or simply, setting high expectations whereas they would get in way over their heads.
"Hey," Sam voices opinion, diverts the subject, "if you ever decide to take up some hot nude yoga, I'm sure my sensei could find a spot for you in class."
Truthfully, Mat didn't picture the promoter as the type of bod, but as he's found out, not every man would walk into his studio with a trim, slim bod, being the 'raw-work' of a 'work' in progress, "yeah, you should try it, um?"
Right off, to anyone who would approach him, he would introduce himself as 'Master Jared,' but loving Mat's physique, from the adorable face, otter-like muscled bod down to what his speedo was packin', "call me Jared."
"Okay well, Jared, I apologize for my friend here, Tom and I leading you on. We're really not boyfriends, though after today that could happen, but I see that Tom has like, a thirst for this stuff and if you have some time and patients, I'd like to learn what it's all about. Think you can handle that?"
In other circles, Jared would look upon both Tom and Mat as lowly attitudes who deserved a good thrashing with the flogger, but suddenly develops this huge admiration for Mat, "I think we can work something out."
Relinquishing his post of herding in those in search of fantasy and fun, Jared posts another man at the entrance to the exhibit, another man in his employ to finish up on the whipping Sam has started.
When they step from the staged area, feet in the sand, Tom questions, "wait. I thought you were going to," he suddenly shuts up.
Some in the crowd gasp, having watched Jared turn around and smack Tom up the side of the head. However, being the event it was, their secondary reaction was it staged.
Mat was concerned, but not so much, Tom getting up, dusting the sand off, and even though the slap to his jaw smarted, made light of it, "it was nothing. Just a little slap. Trust me, I'm fine."
Mat truly thought, even though he has just met Tom, "that was cruel of you, Jared," like the surfboard incident, extends a hand to Tom.
Knowing the psychology of the playful art, Tom covers, "eh, was nothing. I can endure lots more than that."
Suddenly, having come to the Tea Dance to meet 'normal' guys, didn't sit with Mat right at the moment, "you know, I think I've had enough partying for today. Why don't you all go to wherever it is you're going and I'll find my way back to whatever it is I came for."
Jared felt like a foot tall and not his towering six foot height. The reason at all he quit his break early to man his post at the entrance to the exhibit, was seeing these two hotties approaching. For any guy to approach the boundaries, it was expected, whether himself or Sam at the entrance, to usher them in with a gruff attitude. A psychologist, with many years of practice behind him, he senses the difference between Mat and Tom. He also admits maybe he's played this scene the wrong way.
Whereas one of the men lusted to have the kind of discipline he dealt out, of the other, "hey, Mat. Look, I'm sorry."
Sam butts into their business, looking over Mat's shoulder, "hey, take it. It's not often we see Jared apologize for anything," then turns back to Tom.
"Really?" Mat says, staring up to Jared. "Surprising."
"Yeah, really. That, back there," Jared throws a thumb in the direction of the roped in exhibit, "is all acting. In real life I'm a totally different person," and based on how bad he feels about never laying eyes on the hot 'sensei' again, "if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I can show you how different I am to all of that."
That's how it all began, from meeting up at an afternoon Tea Party, flavored with a little of what men like and how they pursue it.
Mat, who is now twenty-nine, was a dumb teen with a little knowledge of business or the world, when invited to one of Jared's s&m parties, takes on the role of a master, not one in which Sam is accustomed to. Both mild-mannered men, in his line of work, Mat doesn't want the reputation of ruling over a man with a whip.
At the end of a party, whereas Mat's partner, Tom, thirty-eight, is always in attendance without fail, Jared never lets it lay, "I'm so glad you forgave me for, 'you know'," he tells Mat, standing there side by side in the shower, washing off the sweat and grime of their roleplaying.
"Like, you'll never let me forget, Jared?"
In his early fifties now, Jared had thought it out, like where was he ever going to get such hot, young men to play with, being the older he got, the less friends he made. Also, adding to the equation, even though he got into doing some yoga, he couldn't let go the idea of having a cup of coffee and a nice, krispy, cream-filled pastry for breakfast each morning. Since Mat had a second class back to back with the first, Sam off to the office, the yoga studio manager accompanied him, Tom turning the table on the alpha top, with the promise it was Jared's treat!
Nearly the same routine for the past ten years since they met, the two have headed out for the cafe. Even though in a close relationship with Mat, Tom has strong ties to Jared, "so, what dastardly torture do you have planned for me this weekend, Jared?"
Tom's laughter, after taking a sip of coffee, causes Jared to smile.
With total confidence in Jared's expertise, not to try anything outlandish, or anything which could mar his beach bod, Tom smiles through the whole grisly, detailed explanation, "well, I thought I'd start off by warming you up with fifty or a hundred lashes up and down your back, crocs on your nips, maybe a thick plug up your ass?"
A glutton for the master's sense of displeasure, Tom says, "I hope it's followed by your buttplug up my ass?"
It's then Tom senses Jared not following him, but eyes instead on a young waiter. After a few seconds more and no reaction from whom he speaks to, "a new prospect?"
Like he wasn't, Jared says, "oh, were you saying something, Tom?"
Tom, who frequents the Pride Center, says, "too bad you don't go to the center."
Knowing what Tom talks about, Jared says after a bite of his cream-filled delight, "if what you're saying, he does, I might be making it to a meeting or two."
With a fond affection for Jared, who has been key to every aspect of bdsm Tom has wanted to explore over the past ten years, Tom figures he owes him, regardless of their strong bond of friendship, "his name is Randy. I found him outside the yoga studio one morning, looking over the contents of the dumpster."
Not which, as a psych, Jared hasn't experienced this story, "ewe."
"Yeah. You can probably guess the rest of his predicament, an outcast with no where to go."
Smiling, Jared says, "until you and Mat set him up a place to go?"
"You think he's lanky-looking now? A few months ago Randy looked like he hadn't eaten in months."
Not which he wasn't sympathetic, Jared says, "cute."
Whether on long distance vibes or just doing his job, Randy approaches their table, "can I warm you up?"
Knowing which way Randy swings now, Jared says, "you sure can!"
Playing it cool, Randy motions with the pitcher of coffee he totes, "I meant your cup, sir."
Certainly, in his alter ego hobby, the way Randy was addressing him, sent vibes down to where he sat, but not wanting act on impulse, "I'd like that, young man."
Was Jared surprised, "like the tag says, the name's Randy."
"Jared," he recipocates, wiping his hand off to shake Randy's.
"Thanks," Randy doesn't follow, "but if I grip your hand, I'll have to wash up again. Company policy."
"I understand completely."
"But there is one thing?"
Jared turns to Tom, gives him a smile and thinking he's mentioned to Randy something about his weekend parties, "yes?"
"Tom mentioned to me you're a shrink. I was wondering if I can get in a few sessions?"
"Of course," his mind trickles on, Jared thinking of how he could possibly turn down such a cute lad!
"I work two jobs and I doubt either insurance will pay much, but I can maybe set up a payment plan with you. I know counseling comes at a high price."
Further detailing his tumultuous life, "I work mornings at the cafe and evening maintenance at the yoga studio, so I'd have to work around that."
Tom finally breaks silence, "I'm sure we can afford some time off for you, Randy, if it's that important to you?"
"No. I don't want to inconvenience you or Mat. You two have been like saviors to me."
A suddenly jealousy comes over Jared. Not malicious, wouldn't he love to be in Mat or Tom's shoes, "what time do you leave your duties at the yoga studio?"
"Mat's last class is at 7pm. I'm sure you're done with hours by then?"
Jared had been scaling back, hoping to retire before he was sixty, but Randy was being so cute!
"I have made exceptions for those of the work force, who's job takes them beyond my normal hours. Why don't you give me the heads up with a text when you're done at the studio tonight?"
Another table giving Randy a rude whistle for another drip of coffee, prompts him, "hold your water, Mack!"
It made Jared and Tom look at each other and smile.
However Randy is cordial, saying, "I'll text you," then leaves for 'Mack's' table!
"Cute, huh?" Tom says before sipping.
"With a twist of dominance?"
A mutual understanding of their special hobby, Tom says, "are you thinking of 'turning' him?"
"With an attitude like that, plus the incredibly good looks, you think I would be crazy not to, that is, if he shows an interest?"
Tom then confides, "I saw him reading the poster you left on the center bulletin board."
Like he was in full leather at one of his weekend parties, whip in hand, Jared says, "I can't believe you were holding back on me, Tom?"
"So, punish me!"
"I'll make a note of that next time I have you eagle-spread."
They kept their voices at a minimum, Tom saying, "don't forget I wanted to try getting my abs whipped while hanging inverted?"
Already, as of two minutes ago, the wheels were turning in Jared's mind, "and Randy with the flogger in his hand?"
Feeling the taste of being suspended upside down, Randy's flogger on his abs, "and you working plugs, pushing down into my ass?"
"You have a vivid imagination, boy," Jared pushes his chair away from the table, "but it's time to go make some money. Pick up the tab, will you?"
"Yes, sir," Tom salutes.
On the way back to the yoga studio parking lot, Jared talks about Randy, asking Tom things, more like an interrogation than casual conversation.
Tom does mention something more about Randy, as Jared unlocks his car, "looks like you might have met your alpha match, Jared!"
"Shut up or I'll add another hundred lashes to the hundred I'm giving you!"
As Jared drives away, Tom walks back into the yoga studio, crotch pulsing, an inner vision of how those hundred lashes are going to be delivered. Sam was 'ok' at whipping, but that big hunk, Jared, Tom wished every time it was the fifty-two year old with the leather strap in hand!
Partners in life, as well as business, one line did not cross the other. Not only a professional businessman, Mat in the private sector ruled the home like his business, with a firm hand. At home he could afford to break from that mold, him and Tom having a loving relationship, taking turns at household chores, the shopping, etc.
A Mat's Yoga Studio, things were very businesslike, "Tom, where have you been?"
"Out with Jared for coffee."
"Oh really? And what about the front desk?"
"I left Lance in charge."
Without a breath between, Tom says, "Lance had his doctor checkup this morning. Remember?"
"Oh-h-h yes, I did forget."
Even though all business, Mat could not keep mad at those puppy dog eyes, begging for forgiveness, "well, get it right next time, Tom."
"Or else?"
He knew what that meant. On the beginning of their relationship, almost ten years ago, with a couple of months hiatus in between, which led to solidify their union, rather than tear it apart, Mat and Tom have found the equation which has stabilized them.
"You'll have to wait till you get home to find out, boy!"
As could happen, like this next yoga class coming up, Mat's mind could gravitate off the yoga page and conjure up just how Tom's punishment could go after they've undressed for bed.
%
% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of 'YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing.