[Steel]

He clicked it, his heart pounding and his cock straining in his pants. First, he was redirected to a page where he was given the options of "Laila's Training" and "Scenes". As tempting as the scenes sounded, he probably needed to get all the info he could first, so he clicked "Laila's Training".

He was greeted by a sort of… report. A timeline report. A collection of dated entries, written in bright, italic, pornographic style, accompanied by pictures and footage. A lot of the earlier footage was clearly taken using some sort of hidden camera, though prominent disclaimers advised that all people with unblurred faces in the videos gave their express permission for the footage to be posted. Sharath considered scrolling right down to the bottom to see if there really were any filthy videos of Laila having sex with a gross creature like Rakesh... but he restrained himself. He was supposed to be looking for clues, not getting off.

He started at the beginning.

The page started with a brief introduction detailing information that Sharath was already familiar with. The fact that Rakesh and Laila went to college together. That she never liked him. That she got married to a jock shortly after college. Sharath skimmed it, though he was more interested in the content further down the page... for research purposes, of course.

The next section was a bit more interesting.

So, with all that in mind, dear strokers, you won't be surprised to hear that when I ran into Laila recently at my local grocery store, she was downright rude to me! Dismissive even! She tried to brush me off like I was trash. And you know how that attitude makes Rocky feel, coming from a slut-in-the-making. It makes me feel like I have to prove her wrong. Especially because Laila and I go way back. I just had to get a little revenge for myself, you know? So I did a little digging and found out that Little Laila was running a yoga class at her local community center. It wasn't hard to join up. After all, 'everyone is welcome'!

Every entry was written in the same smug, joking style, peppered with familiar remarks directed at the reader. It made the writer, presumably Rakesh, sound like a pompous prick. But Sharath supposed that that was what the audience this type of website is for. There was a video beneath that entry, so Sharath clicked play.

The video was clearly being taken from some sort of hidden pinhole camera, based on the low angle and the fish-eye lens. The perspective showed Laila approaching in her fitted sports bra over a loose tank top and yoga pants. Even with the odd perspective, it was easy to see she was angry... although Sharath noticed that her eyes were still covered by a black bar as she moved.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed quietly. The camera showed her navel along her sweaty midriff, as she approached close to the camera.

"I thought the catalog said everyone was welcome," said the man wearing the camera, calm and amused. It was obviously Rakesh. Sharath could tell from the voice alone. He would recognize that smug prick anywhere.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Rakesh, but whatever it is, I..."

"I'm just here to learn yoga," said Rakesh with a chuckle. "You're the one who seems to be making a big deal out of it. But fine, go tell the organizers to kick me out of the class because you knew me in college and think I'm annoying. I'm sure that will get exactly the response you're looking for."

Laila made a frustrated huff and turned away, showing the camera a tempting view of her plump backside as she retreated, stiff with anger.

The video cut off there. Sharath was confused. If this was supposed to be an example of Rakesh's progress, it didn't look encouraging. Laila was obviously pissed off and dismissive. But Rakesh wouldn't have posted this on his website if it ended in a rejection. With a sinking feeling in his belly, oddly compounded by his thumping heart and throbbing erection, Sharath scrolled down and read further.