The Pole Dancing Instructor's Revenge
Isabelita watched with disdain as her student, Monique, failed yet again to grasp the intricacies of the sensual pole dance she had been trying to teach her. The woman's clumsy attempts at imitating Isabelita's graceful movements were infuriating. She had never understood why anyone would want to learn from her in the first place; it wasn't as if she was all that good.
Isabelita sighed heavily, deciding it was time for a drastic measure. She knew that Monique had always struggled with her weight, constantly complaining about how much she hated her body. With that thought in mind, Isabelita made her way over to Monique, her ass wiggling enticingly in her tight denim shorts.
"You know," she purred, running a hand down Monique's shaking body, "maybe if you worked out more often, you'd be able to keep up with me." She grinned wickedly as Monique's eyes widened in horror at the implication.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she squeaked, backpedaling away from Isabelita.
"Oh, come on," Isabelita taunted, pushing Monique's shoulders forward until she was bent over the pole. "You're not fooling anyone, sweetheart."
With that, Isabelita positioned herself behind Monique, her hands resting on the woman's generous hips. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. Slowly, she released her breath, making the first fart bubble up inside her. It was small, but it was enough to make Monique gasp in surprise.
"What was that?" she squeaked, looking over her shoulder at Isabelita.
"Oh, that?" Isabelita smiled, pushing another fart out. This one was bigger, causing Monique's face to scrunch up in disgust as the stench filled the air around them. "Just a little something I like to do when I'm feeling frisky."
Isabelita continued to fart on her poor student, each one making Monique squirm and whine in protest. She didn't care how much it hurt; all she could think about was the humiliation of having her teacher fart on her like this. Tears streamed down her face as Isabelita finished her "punishment", stepping back to admire her handiwork.
"There you go, sweetheart," she purred, running a finger along Monique's red, tear-streaked cheek. "Now maybe you'll remember to practice your dancing." She smirked as she turned to leave, not bothering to look back at Monique's crumpled form on the floor.
As Isabelita walked out of the studio, a satisfied smile on her face, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. But then she reminded herself that sometimes, drastic measures were necessary to get through to people. And if this was what it took for Monique to finally take her dancing seriously, then so be it.
Besides, she reasoned, it wasn't like she had ever been a fan of Monique's anyway.
