Yes

Imogen vaulted across the table and threw Alma up against the wall. Alma bounced off of it, before Imogen threw her to the ground with a thump.

“You think I’m a slut? We’ll see.” Imogen shot a kick into Alma’s ass. “You think you’re better than me because I wear a thong? We’ll see what you’re wearing soon enough.”

Imogen grabbed Alma by the back of her high-waisted military green cargo pants. Lifting her to her feet, she threw Alma over the table. Her shins struck the wood and she went flying, landing in a painful heap.

The dancer bore down upon her and attacked the front of her pants. Imogen managed to get her hands into the latch of the thin brown belt.

“Aah, get off me. That’s my pants.”

Imogen squatted over Alma as her powerful legs came into play. She ripped open the belt’s latch as Alma felt her pants lose some of their tightness around her waist. She entered full on panic mode as she screamed, begged, and pleaded.

Imogen ignored her pleas as she worked the belt through the loops. Now she had a weapon in her hands.

Alma managed to crawl around the table and get to her feet sans her belt, but Imogen was on her in a flash. She looped the belt around her neck and pulled back.

Her air flow was cut off and she was forced to go wherever Imogen wanted her to go. The dancer wasn’t about to let the intensity drop. She forced her back toward the sofa, where she made her bend over the arm. It was shades of what had happened to her just a couple of rounds ago.

Satisfied with where she had her, she got on her back and faced her legs, now dangling over the sofa’s arm. Imogen took the belt away from her neck.

“Does this feel familiar?”

Alma coughed and took in great gulps of air. Imogen’s weight bore down on her back. The brown-haired teen ripped the long black shirt up her back to reveal her ass, the perfect target.

Imogen folded the thin belt over and whipped her ass. The crack sounded like an explosion as Alma screamed. Tears came to her eyes as Imogen let loose another hit. Imogen had made good on her promise.

“Got nothing to say?”

Imogen got off her and wound up. Alma’s ass was on fire as the belt hit its target again.

“Stop! No more!”

Imogen allowed her to roll off the sofa. Alma clutched her ass. She was in a world of pain and couldn’t hide the tears. Alma caught a glimpse of the clock. Still plenty of time left before the buzzer would sound.

“Hmmm, let’s see. What should I do with you now?”