By: ohdurr
“Who wants an instant 100 in this class?” Professor Lisa Marin asked.
The young students of her Human Anatomy and Physiology I class, who were all mostly freshmen in college, looked at each other, some with excitement on their faces, others with suspicion.
Lisa smiled. She could already sense the interest. They had just begun the Digestive System unit and had just finished up the study of the stomach and what digestion is. Today they would begin the study of how the body expels waste, especially through flatulence.
"That's right," she continued, "You heard me. Who wants an automatic one hundred? No projects or exams, just do one small assignment, and bam! You're done, and your gradebook shows you earned an A for the entire semester."
A hand went up.
"Ah, David! You want the 100?”
"Uh, well, what do we have to do?"
"Nothing too difficult, just a demonstration.”
“What kind of demonstration?”
Lisa smiled again, even wider. “I can only answer that question for you if you agree to do it.”
David looked around the room, as if he thought the question was a trap. The rest of the class waited with bated breath, waiting to hear his answer.
"Uh, well... OK, I'll do it."
"Great! Well, David, if you could please stand and come to the front of the class."
David got up and moved to the front. He was a good looking kid with wavy brown hair, glasses, and a nice physique.
"Now, David, if I could have you lay down on this table," Lisa instructed, gesturing towards a padded exam table.
David laid down and stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what to expect. Lisa went over to a side of the table and pulled a strap from it. She fastened the strap into the other side of the table and tightened it around David’s waist.
"Just a precaution," she said, seeing the look of uncertainty on David's face.
David nodded. "What, uh, what do I have to do?"
"All you have to do is lie here, David. This will be a semester long demonstration. From now on until the last class, you will not go to your seat, you will instead come up here and lie down on this table. I will strap you in every time."
David was puzzled. "And that's it? That's all I have to do to get a 100?"
"Mostly. Class, the rest of you also have a task.” Lisa says as she takes a notebook from her desk and holds it up.
"This will be your logbook. I’ve written each of your names in here. Are you ready to hear what you have to do?"
They nod.
"Well, let me be the first to demonstrate.”
Lisa puts the book down and stands in front of the exam table, facing the class. She turns around, looking David in the eye, before she sits down right on his face.
The room explodes into a cacophony of noises, half the class laughing, the other half shouting out in shock.
"Quiet!" Lisa yells, holding up a hand.
The room settles down.
"Now, class, for full credit in this project, you have to come up here, let’s say, 20 times this semester…”
prppprtttt!
A duck sounding fart erupts from under Lisa. The room erupts again as David writhes in exasperation.
"...and fart right on David’s face. Once you have done that, put a tally by your name, and return back to your seat. Simple as that."
She lifts herself up and goes back to her desk, leaving David to catch his breath.
"Any questions?"
A hand goes up.
"Yes, Sarah."
"Um, why do we have to do this, Professor?"
"Excellent question! Well, today’s lesson is all about the effects of flatulence on the human body, and the psychology behind flatulence. We are going to be discussing the social aspects of it, our diet’s effect on it, and the role it plays in digestion. This experiment is just a way to really nail in the ideas we’ll be discussing today.”
Another student’s hand went up.
"Yes, Michael?"
"What if we don’t log 20 farts, Professor?"
"Then you will not receive a passing grade for this project’s grade. Now, any more questions?"
The class sat silently, staring at their Professor.
“Excellent. Feel free to come up at any time. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we? We have a lot to discuss."
----
It took 10 minutes for the first person to come up. Her name was Kelly and she was a red-headed girl who sat near the back.
She sat on the exam table, her skirt lifted to reveal her pink panties to David, and sat right on his face.
brrp! A small but bubbly fart was pushed out of her, directly into his nose.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she says as she lifts up, covering her face in shame.
David is left coughing and gasping for air again. "It's.. alright," he managed to wheeze.
Kelly gets off and returns to her seat, red in the face.
The next girl is much bolder. She has jet black hair and wears a t-shirt and jeans. She saunters up to the table, and without hesitation, shoves her butt into David's face. She sits down with a grunt and lets out a loud, bassy, bubbly fart.
PBBBLBLBLPPPPTT!
David struggles against the strap, her gas making his whole head feel warm and clogged.
"Oops, pardon me," she says as she lifts up and looks at him with a wink.
David just stares at the ceiling, his face covered in stink, and his eyes wide open in disbelief.
As the class continues, more and more students come up to the table. Each one farts directly into David's face, and each one apologizes or just laughs it off.
"Sorry, I just had burritos," a boy says before ripping a loud wet fart onto his face.
PSHPLPRTT!
"Sorry, I've got gas like a truck driver!" a girl says as she plops her butt on his nose and lets out a thunderous fart.
PBPBPBPTTTT!
Each girl, each boy, each student seems to have some sort of quip or excuse, something to say to their helpless victim, as if he is nothing more than a prop to help them earn their grade.
Some sit longer, some are faster, some are apologetic, some aren't. By the end of the hour, there are 24 total tally’s in a class of 30 people.
David is dazed, his nostrils filled with a potent mix of stink and the smells of the people who have sat on him. He is dizzy, his stomach is in knots, and he feels a bit of vomit at the back of his throat.
Professor Marin walks up to him as the class packs up and prepares to leave.
"How are you feeling, David?"
"Nnngh," is all he can manage.
"Well, remember, this is an all semester experiment. Come up here everyday, and you'll have your 100!"
David doesn't respond.
"Class dismissed!"
Lisa unstraps David from the table and leaves him lying there. After the classroom clears, David manages to gather the strength to sit up.
He is left alone, staring at the empty room.
He doesn't know how he's going to get through the rest of the semester.
----
David’s POV:
"Ugh," I grunt as I wake up, my face still feeling a bit stuffy and contorted, like someone sat on it.
Which, of course, is what happened.
The previous day's class comes flooding back into my head, the humiliation and embarrassment of the whole situation was too much for me.
So today, I’m going to the dean. I don’t know what I'll say, but this can't go on. This can't possibly be ethical. I was strapped to a table and forced to endure a farting parade. I'm not doing this. I refuse.
I get up, take a shower, and get dressed. I grab my backpack and head towards the campus dean's office.
"Can I help you, sir?" the receptionist asks me.
"Uh, yeah. I need to speak to the Dean."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Uh, no. But it's urgent. It's about my Human Anatomy and Physiology class, it's with Professor Marin, and -"
"Professor Marin? Is this about her flatulence demonstration?"
"Y-you know about that?"
The receptionist chuckles. "Yes, I know. And so does the Dean. If you're here to complain, she's done this many times before. Every semester a student in your exact position comes in here, upset, and I tell them the exact same thing I tell them: The only thing we can do for you is have you drop the class. But since the add/drop period has ended, you would have to withdraw from the class, which would result in a failing grade for the course."
I stare at her. I can't believe this. "How is this even allowed? Why aren't there rules against this?"
The receptionist sighs. "It’s in the syllabus, if you bothered to look.”
I feel my stomach drop. I didn't read the syllabus.
"Oh, and before you ask, yes, a few years ago a student filed a complaint with the school, and no, nothing came of it. The Dean has already given her approval, and so has the department head. As long as she does not cause lasting physical damage, they don’t care. So, I'm afraid the only thing you can do is drop the class, or suffer through the semester.
I can feel my heart beating, and a cold sweat forming on my forehead.
I turn around and walk away, feeling sick to my stomach.
My fate is sealed.
----
Kelly’s POV:
I am astonished when I walk into the lecture hall on Friday to see David strapped into the table. I was absolutely certain that he wouldn’t be in class after Wednesday’s “demonstration”. At least, I wouldn’t have stepped foot in here ever again.
But, there he was, looking miserable and resigned.
I didn't have time to think too much about it, because I had my own issues. Intestinal issues, to be exact. I had eaten some Chinese food yesterday for dinner, and now it was catching up to me.
I could already feel the cramps in my stomach, and the gas churning inside me. I could feel my insides getting hotter as I got closer to the table. I was not looking forward to what I was about to do.
David stared at me once I got to the table, a pleading look on his face. I felt a little bad, but I wasn’t going to be able to hold it in much longer. I sat down right on his nose and immediately pushed a nasty fart right into his nostrils.
Prrrrrbbbt!
It sounded gnarly. I was wearing yogapants, which gave little protection against the smell and feel of the fart. David gagged and coughed, his entire head shaking in disgust. I quickly lifted up and puts tally next to my name, then quickly made my way back to my seat, red-faced and ashamed.
The class continued this way. People would come up, one at a time or in groups, and either apologize for what they were about to do or laugh. Some were merciful and didn't sit down long, while others decided to have a little fun.
One guy named John sat on David's face for nearly a full minute, just rocking back and forth, and giggling the entire time.
"Dude, come on, hurry up," another classmate said.
"Sorry, man, this is just too funny," John replied. He was a tall guy with glasses and a lanky build.
"Yeah, I know. But I needa get one of mine over with."
"Fine," John sighed, "I'm just gonna rip a monster."
John stopped rocking and sat still on David's face and took a deep breath, before grunting loudly and letting loose.
And boy, was it a monster. I swear, the entire lecture hall shook with the force of his fart.
No onomatopoeia could do this fart justice. No amount of P’s or B’s or R’s or T’s could encapsulate the sound that echoed throughout the room. No amount of brrp-ing or phppp-ing or prprppptt-ing or bbttt-ing could accurately describe the absolute destruction that John unleashed onto David's face.
"OH, FUCK!!!" David screamed so loudly it was heard clearly through John's admittedly cute ass— though I would never look at it the same.
That fart lasted a good 8 seconds. Classmates in the front row complained of the smell. Others complained about the volume. John, the administer of death, just laughed. He finally got up and put a tally next to his name, before looking down at David.
Who wasn’t moving.
"Hey, you alright man?"
David just lied there.
John waved a hand in front of David's eyes. "Hey, man, you okay?"
David didn't respond.
"Professor!" John yelled, turning his head towards Lisa.
She got up from her desk and rushed over.
"Is he okay?" John asked.
"Yes, he's fine. Just unconscious. You really packed a punch, huh, John?"
"I, uh, yeah, I guess."
"Well, if you're done, please return to your seat."
John went back to his seat, his face red and flushed.
"Class is almost over anyways, guys, so I’m gonna go ahead and dismiss you all today. Have a great weekend, and remember to come in Monday ready to learn… And with gas!"
She laughed, but no one else did.
She shrugged, and the class filed out. But before I did, I tore off a little piece of my notebook and wrote on it.
“I’m sorry for farting on you. You may hate me, but I think you’re cute. Here’s my number. Hope you're okay . —Kelly."
I went up to the table and slipped the paper into David's pocket, then made my way out of the lecture hall.
----
David's POV:
I woke up on Monday a man on a mission. I had time during the weekend to recover and reflect, and I would be going to the dean’s office first thing in the morning.
I also had time to think about the note I found in my pocket. A phone number, along with a note from Kelly, an angelic looking redhead who I thought was beautiful.
The fact that she sat on my face and farted was something I tried not to think about, but her note did make me smile.
So, when I got to the dean's office, the receptionist seemed a bit surprised to see me.
"Oh, it's you again," she said, clearly remembering me from last week.
"Uh, yeah. Listen, I want to file a complaint, I really think-"
"Look, David, is it? Just stop, okay? Like I said last week, nothing will come of it. The school has already given their approval. Just give up."
"You said last time that as long as the farts don’t cause lasting damage, the school doesn’t care. Well, I was knocked out last class! If farts can knock me out, who’s to say they can’t kill me?”
The receptionist chuckled. "Oh, honey, farts can’t kill you.”
"You don't know that! I could be passed out again, some person sits on me for too long, and boom! Asphyxiation!”
"David, it takes, like, 5 minutes for someone to asphyxiate."
"Oh, so, it's only 5 minutes between life and death. That's so comforting, Thanks.”
The receptionist rolls her eyes. "David, the school has given its approval. I'm not gonna sit here and argue with you. If you want, you can file a complaint, and see if the school changes its mind. But I can assure you, you will be disappointed."
I glare at her. She just smiles back at me.
"If you're done, I have a lot of work to do."
I turn and storm out of the office, pissed off.
----
Lisa's POV:
David came into the lecture hall that day with a scowl on his face. He didn't even bother to acknowledge my greeting, he just walked straight up to the table and laid down, and strapped himself in.
I chuckled. He's really mad, I guess. Womp, Womp.
"Class, welcome back," I say as the last student sits down. "I trust everyone had a great weekend?"
There was a mumble of agreement from the class.
"Fantastic. Tokay, we are moving on from our flatulence topic. However, this doesn’t mean that the farting demonstration is over. Looking at the logbook, there are a few of you who haven’t tallied any farts yet. So, today, the only people who can come up are those who haven't done it yet. So, if you see your name on the board, that means you can come up at any point today. If you’re name isn’t, please, stay in your seat for the class.”
I wrote down 3 student's names on the board: Ronald, Sadie, and Eva.
"To further promote your participation, if you don’t log a fart today, you will switch places with David, and become the test subject for the rest of the semester."
A small gasp could be heard throughout the classroom.
"Now, if that doesn't motivate you, nothing will. So, without further ado, let's get started!"
I went to my desk and began the lesson. As class went on, I noticed the students who were on the list kept stealing glances at the clock and nervously bouncing their legs.
The first to come up was Eva. She was a small girl, with glasses and brown hair, and wore black skinny jeans with her olive green wool sweater. She slowly walked up to the table, and even more slowly sat down on David's face. She didn't move, or make a sound. She just sat there.
After a moment, I looked back up from my laptop. "Eva, you have to actually let a fart out, or else-"
BRRRTTTTT!
A bassy and bubbly fart blasted from under her, the noise echoing throughout the classroom.
"Oh my God," she said quietly as she got up. "Sorry, sorry," she said to David as she ran back to her seat.
As the class continued, I could tell that the people who were being forced to come up had worked themselves into a tizzy. They couldn't pay attention, they couldn't stop shaking their legs. Ronald was practically hyperventilating.
Sadie was the second to come up. She was a curvy girl, with a big butt, and long, silky golden brown hair. She wore a pair of jeans that fit her well, and a blue and white striped t-shirt. She sat on David’s face and looked at me.
"Professor, do I have to do this? My farts are pretty foul."
"You don’t have to. But if you don't, you'll be the one strapped to the table."
Sadie sighs. She takes a deep breath and lets it out.
"Okay, here it comes."
Pbllllslplppt!
Sadie's butt cheeks shook and jiggled, and a nasty, wet sounding fart escaped. She stayed sat on David's face for a moment, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.
"Oh God, that sounded horrible." Sadie says, while David struggles and coughs under her.
"I mean, I'm sure he's used to them by now, so-"
Psshpppt!
A second wet fart shot out.
"Okay, sorry, sorry!" Sadie quickly apologized and ran back to her seat.
By this point, Ronald was practically crying. He didn't want to get up, but I could see the fear of getting strapped down for the rest of the semester looming on him.
Ronald was a thin kid, with a buzz cut and a face full of acne. He wore a polo shirt and khaki shorts. He walked up to the exam table, visibly shaking. He was the last one to come up, so the class watched intently.
"Ronald, you can do it," I encouraged him. "It's easy."
He took a deep breath, and sat down on David's face. His butt was bony, and small, and not very comfortable, and David let the class know with his groans of discomfort.
"Shut up," Ronald said, "I'm nervous."
The room fell silent. The entire class watched Ronald, waiting for what he was about to do.
He took another deep breath, and...
Nothing.
"Ronald," I said after a moment. "Not to rush you, but class does end in a little less than a minute."
Ronald looked at the clock and panicked. He tried taking another deep breath, but nothing came out.
"C'mon, dude, you're running out of time," one student called out.
"I can't help it," Ronald responded, tears forming in his eyes.
"Just breathe, Ronald," I told him.
Ronald nodded and tried again, taking a huge gulp of air and exhaling.
"Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh," he groaned, trying to push a fart out.
"Oh, come on," a classmate groaned.
"Just fart, dude, just fart!" another student shouted.
"I'm trying!" Ronald said, the panic in his voice rising.
The clock ticked, and the minute was almost over. Ronald looked at it, and began to panic. He tried once more, breathing heavily.
"Ooooooooohhhhhhh, oooooooooohhhhhhhh," he whined.
Tick, tick, tick,
Tick,
Tick.
----
Ronald's POV:
I couldn't believe it.