Ava's Custom Fart for Her Devoted Follower
Ava Black, the alluring Mistress of the studio with the same name, sat regally atop her custom-made throne, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. She had been expecting this moment for some time; anticipating the arrival of her favorite toy, the one who would never fail to show up when she beckoned.
She let out a contented sigh as she heard the familiar knock at her door. Her loyal follower, or 'toy' as she liked to call them, had arrived. Without wasting any time, she raised her hand, signaling for them to enter the room.
The door creaked open, revealing the figure of her devoted fan, their eyes fixed on her with unwavering devotion. Ava couldn't help but feel a surge of power course through her veins as she took in their eager expression.
"Ah, my little toy," she purred, her voice like silk. "I've been brewing something special for you today."
She stood up from her throne, her long black dress swirling around her ankles as she stepped down from the raised platform. As she walked towards her follower, Ava could feel the weight of her bloated belly pressing against her skin. The studio lights glinted off the sweat that beaded on her forehead, but she didn't mind. All that mattered was the fart she had been saving up for this moment.
"Kneel before me," she commanded, her voice still soft but filled with authority. The follower complied without hesitation, their knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. Ava couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction as she watched them submit to her will.
"Now," she continued, "close your eyes and take a deep breath."
The follower complied, their chest rising and falling as they inhaled deeply. Ava could feel their anticipation bubbling just beneath the surface. With a mischievous grin, she positioned herself behind the follower, her hands resting lightly on their shoulders.
"Suck it in, fart sniffer," she whispered.
Her fingers dug into the follower's shoulders, urging them to suck in their breath more deeply. As their stomach expanded, Ava could feel the familiar rumble deep within her gut. It was time.
With a loud, long, and incredibly stinky fart, she released the putrid cloud of gas directly into the follower's waiting mouth. The fart was so potent that even Ava could feel it burning the back of her throat. She could hear the follower's muffled coughs and gasps as they fought to breathe through the noxious fumes.
When she was finally sure that the follower had taken in every last bit of her fart, Ava stepped back, her hands on her hips as she watched them writhe in pain. The look of pure anguish on their face was almost enough to make her giggle, but she knew better than to show any sign of weakness.
"There you go, my little toy," she purred. "Happy now?"
The follower could only nod their head weakly in response, their cheeks tinged red from the humiliation. But Ava knew that wasn't enough. She had to push them even further.
"Good," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because I have a feeling you're going to need a lot more practice if you want to keep up with me."
With that final taunt, Ava turned around and walked back to her throne, leaving the follower kneeling on the floor, gasping for air and trying desperately to forget the taste of her fart. But they wouldn't forget. They could never forget. And neither could Ava. Because this was just another day in the life of the one and only Mistress Ava Black.
