Gay Facesitting And Farts ❤️

GassyBiBlackBoi from Twitter. DC Area. Lactose intolerant male vers dairy lover. Into facesitting, male farts, smothering, natural musk, gay scat stories.

[lelielile]

[jay-andom-writing]

I need a man to put one of these in my mouth moments before he backs his ass up to my face, straps my head to his ass with a harness, and squarely positions his puckering hole inside my forced-open mouth. I won't be leaving until I eat him out and he's completely satisfied.

Of course he didn't tell me that he just had dinner - a whole plate of cheesy fettuccine alfredo and a pint of ice cream after for desert. And he's lactose intolerant. He wanted to surprise me. By the end of the night my taste buds will be fried and my stomach will be bloated like a balloon. All for his entertainment.

[jay-andom-writing]

Under the Bull

(Image by @ BrownskinH77 on X)

M4M - Fart fetish, cucking, edging, some bondage, humiliation

(Characters are all 18+)

A/N: Still working on the next part of My New Boss, but this story just took over me like a possession. Something a little different, hope you all enjoy!

My boyfriend was the sweetest guy on earth, but he could be a bit of a bully when he wanted to. And unfortunately for me, I had huge crushes on every guy who ever bullied me. This meant Todd could push my buttons as much as he wanted and pretty much always get away with it. And damn, did he love pushing my buttons.

First it was my kink for edging and denial. As soon as he learned about that, he started teasing me at random times in the day and making me beg him for the chance to cum when we'd have sex. It was humiliating, but also so hot, so I didn't stop him. Then he learned about my fart fetish. Big mistake. Now ever time he had to fart, he did it on my face. I was lucky he wasn't a gassy person.

But the latest had come about by accident. Todd had used my computer and found some bookmarks I hadn't intended him to see. We didn't care if each other watched porn, so he wasn't mad. But it was the kind of porn. Cucking. It was a new kink for me that I was still exploring. I hadn't wanted to bring it up to him yet because I thought it might be a bridge too far. We talked about it for a bit, and he seemed curious but didn't push further than that. I figured that was the end of it. Huge mistake.

I came home from work one Friday to find Todd in the living room talking to Luke, one of his lifelong friends and someone I had met a fair number of times. Luke was an absolute smokeshow. He was tall, about 6'3", had beautiful dark brown skin and perfectly manicured facial hair. He also had an ass that was impossible to miss, the man looked like he was smuggling a pair of beach balls back there. I could swear he was always wearing shorts that were a size too small, the way they clung to his cheeks. I also knew, from the few times I'd been around Luke, that he could fucking fart.

"Hey honey, I invited Luke over for dinner, hope that was okay." My boyfriend's tone was sweet, almost too sweet, making me worried he was plotting something. I should have known. But at the time I was too oblivious so I just nodded back to him.

"Yeah, all good babe," I said. "I was gonna order some pizza, I can get an extra one for him."

"Sweet," Luke said. "Meat lovers with double cheese for me." I was pretty sure Luke was lactose intolerant but I didn't wanna question him. I got Todd's order and put the call in.

After a dinner of pizza, cheesy breadsticks, and ice cream (Todd had insisted we break out a quart) the three of us were on the couch, gaming. Luke and Todd had sat down on either side of me, but I could swear they kept making eyes at each other the whole match. Eventually, when we finished the last round of our game, my boyfriend turned towards me and Luke.

"Honestly, baby," he said to me. "There's a reason I invited Luke over."

The two of them closed in over top of me and started passionately making out. I was so stunned I couldn't speak, but my dick was quickly growing in my pants as I watched my boyfriend kissing another man right in front of me. The two had their tongues halfway down each other's throats when they quickly switched position. Luke sat down hard on my lap, knocking the wind out of me a little bit and pinning my swiftly expanding dick against my body. Todd had climbed up on Luke's lap, facing him (and by extension me) and the two started locking lips again. But this time Todd was watching my reaction, and I must have looked like a horny idiot because I saw his eyes light up and he started kissing Luke even more passionately.

My boyfriend and his bull were grinding against each other, but that meant Luke's ass was also grinding down on me, and I was having a hard time holding back moans. When the two finally came up for air, Todd looked at me again and giggled.

"I think he's enjoying being under your ass, Luke." My boyfriend smiled at me and stuck his fingers in my mouth, making me moan again.

"Oh, I bet." Came Luke's reply. His deep voice reverberated through his body into me. He ground down with his ass again. My cock throbbed. I arched my back and gasped. "I can feel him pokin' me."

The two of them laughed. Then I heard a low, bubbling gurgle come from somewhere deep in Luke's guts.

Todd said, "Sounds like the pizza is kicking in."

"Oh you don't even know," said Luke with a groan. "From what you told me, your boy is about to have the time of his life."

I immediately flushed realizing that Todd must have told Luke about all my kinks. But I didn't have long to focus on that before--

BRRRRRFRFRFRPRPRPRPLPLPLPLPLPLBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTTTttttttrrrrrrrBRRT!

A twenty second long gas bomb exploded against me. Wet. Bubbly. Bassy. And fucking loud! It felt like it rattled my entire body. My dick was right in the crossfire and I was holding on by a thread. My cock was pulsing and I felt like I'd cum to a single stroke.

"Damn!" Luke sounded proud of himself. "How you like that, cuck?" I just let out a moan in response. I heard both of them laughing at me again.

The two of them kept kissing each other on top of me while Luke continued to pummel my dick with his farts. He kept releasing long, bubbly butt blasts and it was getting harder and harder not just cum in my pants right there. But Luke was a masterful tease. Every time I tried to hump his ass to get myself off, he'd pull it away just in time, and as soon as I was thrown off by his departure he'd slam his ass back down on my crotch, pinning my hard dick against my thigh and letting out another short trumpeting fart. He had me whimpering and desperate. This cycle continued for what felt like hours, but must have been no more than twenty minutes.

"It looks like he's ready to burst. We should have the rest of our fun with him before he blows his load." My boyfriend sounded amused and definitely like he had something evil planned.

The two men got off my lap finally. I was panting heavily, still rock hard. Todd picked up my legs. With a tug I was halfway out of my seat, and Luke put his arms under my armpits as the two of them carried me into our bedroom and put me on the mattress. My head was facing the foot of the bed. I felt something being snapped around my wrists. Handcuffs?

"Surprise, babe!" Todd's face came into view, grinning down at me. "Don't worry, we won't keep you too long. But I didn't want you trying to get out of your special present."

I felt cuffs wrap around my ankles as well, tying me down to the bed spread-eagle. Todd took off his shirt and climbed on top of me. He perched over my crotch, taking the opportunity to rub his own ass against my aching cock. He earned a long moan from me in response. I could tell he loved keeping me on edge.

Luke climbed onto the bed next. He had stripped down to nothing but a green thong, and his two voluminous ass cheeks were on full display. At first he sat on my chest. He made out with my boyfriend again, jiggling his ass the whole time, making me watch it bounce around inches from my face. It was mesmerizing. So hypnotic I was caught off guard when--

"UUNNFF"

BBBBRRRRRRRPPPPPPLLLLRRRRPPPPTTTT!!!

Another enormous fart. I felt my entire chest vibrate as Luke launched his ass assault. It was bassy and bubbly. Loud as hell too. But unlike the farts on my lap, that had been too far away for me to really smell, this one was aimed right at my face. And it stank. Like rotten eggs but somehow worse. I heard Luke sigh with relief as I gagged.

With no time to recover, Luke's wide ass cheeks slammed down on my face, burying me between his mounds of meat. I felt his hole, hot and musky, pulsing against my nose. He was definitely doing it on purpose to tease me, and it was working.

Without warning, a sharp Shhhhhsssssssttt! signaled a silent but deadly directly up my nostrils. It burned like hell. I heaved under Luke's ass. He just ground down on my face even harder, pressing my aching nose right against his asshole. Every one of my senses was consumed with his manly stink.

I felt Luke shift above me as he and Todd exchanged some words I couldn't make out. Next thing I know, I heard the taletell plap, plap, plap, of my boyfriend riding Luke's cock. The bounce of each impact squeezed my face a little deeper into his huge dump truck. I heard Luke's guts start to bubble.

"Oh, fuck yes baby," I heard Luke moan. "Ride that big cock. How's it feel to get fucked by a real man? Don't have to settle for that cuck anymore."

BRRRRRPPPPPTTTT!

A huge fart up my nose, point blank. I tried to scream but it got lost inside the thick fat of Luke's ass.

"Oh fuuuuuck, yes babe, fuck those farts out of me."

plap, plap, plap

BRT! BBRRTT! BBBRRRTTT!

"Ride me like a bull, baby,"

BBBRRRRAAAPPPT! BRPT!

"Ride those farts out of me, show your cuck what my ass can do,"

BrrrrrrrppppppRRRRPT!

"Smells like roses down there, right cuck? Fuck, I just know you're in hell right now,"

BRRRRRRRPPPPPT! FWRRRRBBBBBBTTTT!

"Oh fuck," Luke sounded close. My own cock was standing up like a lightning rod.

The ass assault I'd just endured had almost been too much to handle. Todd was too focused on riding Luke's dick to worry about mine, or else I would have cum a dozen times over.

Just then I felt a warm, wet sensation close around my cock. Todd had started sucking my dick while getting fucked by Luke. As it happened I heard the pace of their fucking get faster and Luke started moaning loud. Luke and I were both about to cum.

Luke yanked aside the fabric of his thong, exposinf his bare ass. In one fluid motion he grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face back up deep into his ass. I opened my mouth to protest but only succeeded in locking my open lips tight around Luke's asshole. I felt his hole pucker and bulge out inside my mouth, against my tongue. I tasted his raw musk. I heard his guts rumble as he held me tight. No escape.

FWUUUAAAAMMMMMBBBBBBRRRRRPPPPLPLPLPLPLPLPPRPRPRPRPRPRRRRTTTTTRTRTRTTTTTT!!!

A full minute long torrent of toxic ass gas thundered down my throat with a roar and groan. My whole face vibrated. I felt my cheeks bulging from the amount of gas going down my throat and bubbling into my stomach. It tasted like raw sewage. It stank like pure shit. My sinuses burned. My tongue was coated in the rotten taste. I came so fucking hard.

Luke also moaned loud and bucked his hips, filling Todd's ass at the same time as I filled my boyfriend's mouth. Luke let go of the back of my head and I fell back, exhausted.

Luke and Todd made out on top of me for another minute, then Luke went off to the bathroom to clean up. I saw Todd's grinning face come into view above me. I smiled back at him.

"Looks like both of you had fun," he said slyly. "I think we'll have to make this a regular thing." I just smiled dumbly at him, still in a haze of euphoria.

He got off the bed and walked towards the bathroom. "Babe," I called after him, "aren't you gonna unlock my cuffs?"

I heard him giggle. "I'm sure Luke can get them when he's done with you. I'm gonna take a nice long bath to relax while you get to enjoy the rest of Luke's pizza aftermath." I felt my panic rising, but he slipped into the bathroom, passing Luke exiting as he did, and shut the door.

Luke came over and stared down at me, already looking smug. He slapped his stomach.

"Alright cuck, all that pizza's gonna be working through me for at least another hour. And you better strap in. Now that your boyfriend isn't in here, I don't gotta be polite anymore, so I ain't holding back."

His ass cheeks descended on my face. I just let out something between a groan of despair and a moan of pleasure. I was in for a hell of a night.

[hornyraunchstories]

I hope Coach takes a dump on Marcus’s toilet mouth next! And I hope Coach intentionally doesn’t flush afterwards. Salivate on that!

To the public what they desire, I’ve been kinda busy but I’ve adjusted a scene that I deleted to suit this.

—————

*knock *kncok *knock* 

“Busy” someone responded.

I heard the process repeat a few times before the door to my stall was swung open.

The stall door banged open, and the burly Coach Harlan filled the frame, his whistle dangling like a noose. He looked hurried, as he unceremoniously dropped his shorts, and his ass descended— hairy, and fat from years of squats, he pressed down burly on my porcelain bowl. The bulky cheeks spread, enveloping my seat entirely, and the initial contact was a wave of heat and musk.

Up close, my enhanced smell caught every note from the sweat soaked stink to the scent escaping down his arsehole symbol of a man holding it since breakfast.

He settled, groaning as he bore down, and letting his bladder loose as a yellow ammonia smelling liquid rushed down my bowl.The first push came slow: a fat, knobby turd, dense from his protein-heavy meals, coiling out with a crackle. It hit my water with a thud, the taste blooming instantly, bitter, and earthy, with a putrid taste. Chunks smeared my porcelain sides, sticky and unyielding, the texture grinding against me like sticky caramel in my mouth. Just instead of caramel, it was the shit of a mouth in his forties that got stuck in my palate.

I trembled, but instead of the usual disregard, the coach responded to my low vibrations which he must have felt as he grunted.

"Oh fuck, hello Marcus, I almost forgot you were there-ungh"He grunted and his legs and thighs tensed as he pushed, his anus relaxing before farting and letting another load right into my mouth Fuck, I had a heavy breakfast and those hamburgers from dinner aren't agreeing with me" he said to the air.

"Well Marcus, I hadn't thought of going about to using you since I'm your coach and all but nature calls you know? And the other stalls were occupied" He said, not once stopping the process of shitting down want was presumably my mouth.

Once again, I tried to protest, and a vibration spread.

"Oh shut up, haven't you understood it yet still?" He said and a rumble built, and he farted— wet, sputtering blast that bubbled up, sour gas like vinegar and eggs, filling my confined space. "You may be a good player, but also, you're nothing but a toilet, even if you return to the field you've already been a toilet." He said and bore down as he pushed the last of the solid logs.

Why the last of those you say? Because softer now, looser from stress or bad takeout, spraying in erratic bursts. The diarrhea hit like acid rain, hot and liquid, stinging my every pore with tangy fire, flecks of undigested corn biting like gravel. The smell choked me, a thick miasma of rot and spice, while the layered flavors overwhelmed-mushy bitterness, acidic burn, all marinating in the piss below.

"I really should've thought of this discipline method before." He said as he sighed in relief. He then proceeded to wipe himself with some toilet paper because he was too weirded out by the bidet, and threw the used wipes down my now full mouth-bowl.

He then stood up, buckled his pants and turned to speak to me.

Marcus. The toilet he just defiled. Which was still bursting with his waste since he intentionally left it marinating in his filth to teach the frustrating athlete under his care a lesson.

“And don’t even think of quitting, or I’ll make it something permanent. Not to speak of, this app still has many functions I’d love to try if you prove uncooperative.” He said and left.

Marcus meanwhile stayed there, his mouth-bowl filled with an abundant soup from hell, forced to taste every bit as he waited until someone brave enough flushed it down. And that would only be a small mercy, as he knew he had to swallow it down eventually.

[hornyraunchstories]

A lesson in Humility (TF, Scat, Humiliation)

A coach transforms a problematic player into a toilet in the Locker Rooms, so he may learn some humility from this humiliating experience.

——— It had all begun the day after the last game. The head coach had called him into his office during practice hours with a frown on his face.

“You are good Marcus, but if you are gonna remain on this team, you’re gonna have to learn some humility, and fast.” He said, tired of Marcus' cocky attitude that drove him to mess with the team dynamic and self-centered attitudes.

Today, that same attitude had led to a fight in the locker rooms between him and another teammate. He blamed the loss on the rest of the team, saying that they did not put “enough effort”, and that he “carries them” and other arrogant stuff like that. The fight would have escalated if not for the rest of the team separating them; but everyone was getting tired of Marcus.

Especially because it wasn’t the first time.

The coach sighed. 

“You’ve left me no other choice, I have to take drastic measures” he said while taking out his phone before the flashlight flashed on Marcus. 

“Follow me Marcus, I’ll talk while we walk”. He said.

And Marcus followed as if entranced.

…

Marcus followed the coach until they were in the locker rooms. There they walked into the bathroom where the coach opened a door that said “out of service” and got inside.

The space was cramped, and Marcus found himself pressed against the wall on the empty space where the broken toilet was placed.

“Because nothing else seems to work, I’ve decided to take extreme measures. But don’t worry it’ll only be temporal.” He said and typed something in his phone. “But hopefully, this’ll teach you some humility”.

Marcus heard what the coach said, but still in trance, he was unable to respond.

The flash of the camera shone and suddenly, Marcus felt as if his body started to compress and twist. He felt as if he melted down.

‘Wha-What is happening?’ He thought, as he tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out. He felt tight as if he was compressed, and his jaw ached as if it had been forced open. Moreover, he felt twisted and weird. As if he had been lying on his back and petrified.

In the room, where a used and broken toilet had been, there was now a pristine high tech toilet, like the ones seen in Japan.

Marcus saw this, as his vision seemed to spread from everywhere and he seemed to be able to see and feel everything from his surface.

He tried to scream. To stand up. Anything. But the only thing that could be heard was a whirring sound as the tank of the toilet filled and his functions started into motion.

“Congratulations Marcus, you've been transformed into a Toilet. Think of this as a timeout penalty for your behavior, but don’t worry, it’s only temporary. I’ll turn you back at the end of the week” The coach said “Loath as your team and I are about it, you’re a great player, but we’ve gotta teach you some humility. Hopefully serving the needs of the team in a different position will teach you that.” He said.

He made a pause and stared at the new toilet.

“Might as well” he said and promptly took out his cock, aiming at the toilet. A warm stream of yellowish liquid soon streamed for the coach’s unwashed cock.

Marcus could see everything from his position. In fact, he could even smell everything. It was as if his senses not only had remained but had been enhanced by the transformation.

It was with these improved senses that he tasted the salty and bitter urine of his coach, as it filled his mouth and colored what may have counted as his saliva once into mere pissed toilet water. He tried to plead, but no sound could be produced. And only a slight vibration of the toilet could be perceived.

The coach saw this vibration and said. “If this is how you handle pee, I can’t imagine what you’ll do with the rest of the needs of your teammates, let this be a lesson”. He finished, and after shaking his dick, he pulled down on the Toilet’s lever.

The lever was instantly stimulating, and it became clear it was a sensitive part of his new body. As it was pulled, Marcus felt his already sensitive senses improve by a hundred times, truly making him taste the urine while making him swallow it, somehow still feeling as if he was swallowing, and with every gulp, the warm liquid slided against his throat.

“Well, I leave you now. Enjoy the rest of the week." He zipped up, stepped out, and took the “Out of Service” sign. Practice was wrapping up, so he gathered the team outside. "Hey, fellas, good news, the bathroom's fixed. Brand new toilet in that stall. Feel free to use it."

I was alone in the dim stall, my tank refilling with a gurgle that echoed my dread. Unfortunately, it was the end of practice and it wasn’t long before the door creaked open soon after. 

The guy opening the door was Carlos, my best friend since freshman year. He was built like a tank on his bulk diet. He slammed the stall door, dropped his shorts, and hovered over my bowl, grunting from the practice’s exertion.

Carlos's ass was massive, his cheeks parting to reveal a hairy crack. As he bore down on what to him was my bowl but to me it could be nothing else but my face, I was hit with the strong pungent smell of his ass and sweat. An acrid and musty smell seemed to fill my nostrils, and a salty taste attacked my taste buds as I realized my seat too had the capacity to savor the sweat from my teammates ass.

‘No, Carlos! Please no! It’s me’ I tried to scream, but the only result was a low vibration that spread throughout the toilet as the tank stopped refilling.

“Oh, fancy Toilet” He said, feeling the slight tremors caused by Marcus’ but dismissing them as a neat function. After all, how was he supposed to know his best friend had been transformed into the very Toilet he was about to use?

He settled down, his weight uncaringly pressing on Marcus transformed body, who felt the strain of having to support his fellow friend.

It was a very short time before Carlos first started, a yellow stream of hot concentrated urine hitting the bowl and assaulting Marcus tastebuds. But of all that was about to happen, that was the least of Marcus worries.

Soon, the tight anus of the football player parted to reveal a thick log, heavy from all that fiber and meat. It coiled into his bowl-mouth, soft yet firm, the earthy, pungent smell overwhelming my enhanced nose. An overwhelming nausea overwhelmed me as Carlos scrolled on his phone without a care in the world.

‘Carlos, no, please stop!’ I pleaded desperately, but my protests seemed to only serve to further stimulate my friend’s guts thank to the vibrations the provided. A spluttering fart echoed in my bowl as he released another load of his waste.

I wanted to scream, but only a muffled splash sounded as his shit hit the water. The taste was vile, it was bitter and mushy, filling me with his waste. He pushed out more, a massive load that smeared my sides, chunks breaking off. But ultimately, he finished.

He sighed in relief, “oh nice” he said clicking a button on the side of the toilet “This thing has a bidet feature”. He clicked and the bidet activated, water splashing out and cleaning his ass while I felt as if I myself was sticking out my tongue for him to clean up.

Then the lever yanked again, that electric sensitivity making me "swallow" it all, the swirl pulling his shit down my throat in humiliating waves. Oh god, no. Then it hit me, a sensation akin to diarrhea. I no longer had a stomach, so every time someone took a shit in me and flushed it down, it was as if a meal went straight through me, eating and shitting it down at the same time.

Unfortunately for me, that wasn’t the end of my torture, a knock on the bathroom stall along with a voice asking “Almost ready?” Sounded just outside, and I felt like crying as Carlos answered “Yeah, just finished”.

…

Like some joke from hell, as soon as Carlos left, another of my teammates made his way in.

It was Lucas, our running back, clutching his stomach as he burst in post-practice. The freshman had joined the team recently and had been training with us for a while.

As he entered the stall I could feel the muttering of curses as he rushedly plopped down on my seat, clutching his knees and groaning as the diarrhea hit me without warning like burning havoc as the deluge of burning shit continued. It enveloped the totality of Marcus mouth, overwhelming his tastebuds as it mixed with the water in his bowl.

As Lucas continued to strain with a grunt, Hot, burning liquid blasts from his churning stomach, spayed into my bowl and stuck to it with acidic fury as his ass spluttered without end. The smell was sharp and sour, like spoiled protein, flecked with undigested bits that stung on contact, and as they remained stuck to my bowl, it felt as if I had then stuck between my teeth.

Again I tried to scream from the havoc, but the vibrations passed practically unnoticed by the distressed player.

Finally, he had to stop as wiped sloppily, throwing the wipes into the bowl, muttering something about disliking bidets and having water in his ass, and flushed without looking, and sauntered out. The lever's pull amplified the agony, gulping down his fiery load while the taste burned on.

..

Time passed in a blur of milder uses after that. Teammates trickled in, Jamal's steady urine, Tyler's foamy one, none as overwhelming as Carlos's mass or Lucas's inferno. A few random folks, maybe staff or visitors, added casual dumps that I processed without the same intensity. The assaults blended, each flush a routine degradation, but compared to the ordeal of the first two, they felt manageable. Maybe I can adjust to this, I thought desperately, my arrogance cracking as the day wore on.

It was like that that the first day ended, my mind finally finding rest.

..

It was early morning, and I could feel movement going around as people trickled in to train at the adjacent gym on the building. I resigned to my fate, making the resolution to maintain myself with the smallest degree of dignity I could.

But that resolution shattered when the door banged open hard. Elijah strode in, the tall, black-skinned beast of our defensive line, and he was jokingly nicknamed the "Toilet Destroyer" for a reason. At 6'5" and built like a brickwall, it wasn’t rare for him to leave an unflushable monster behind in some poor toilet, only for some unfortunate fellow to find it.

As soon as I saw him, dread coiled deep in my gut. All those jokes and comments are funny when you’re blabbering around with the team, but he had never considered being on the Toilet side of the equation.

He dropped his gear, planting his muscular ass over me with a grunt. "Ah shit," he rumbled, bearing down. “That protein powder didn’t settle good with the morning weights”

What came was enormous. His asshole parted as Elijah grunted and struggled above me, bearing down on me as a single dense, endless log, wider and heavier than anything before, packing my bowl tight from the start. Layer after layer coiled in, the smell choking me with the rich putrid aroma overpowering from his muscle building diet. He coated my senses directly, the taste bitter and suffocating as it filled my bowl-mouth beyond capacity.

Elijah struggled, grunting deeply, "Ugh, come on... FUCK!" His ass flexed, pushing harder, wet straining sounds filling the stall, his farts rumbling low, splatters as chunks fought free. Elijah was in pain from his own bowels, and he didn’t even notice how the toilet trembled slightly under him, Marcus silent scream going again unheard.

"Fuck, almost... you bastard," the creak of his weight and heavy breaths turning my direct torment into amplified hell. As soon as he finished, he clicked on the bidet feature, the idea that the fresh water might bring some relief to his abused ass, as Marcus was forced to clean his abuser.

Then, he wiped to dry himself and carelessly —like one usually does when with a toilet— he yanked the lever. As soon as he did that and the suction could be felt Marcus knew it wouldn’t flush, and his fears became true as chocked on the ginormous pile of shit unable to pass it down.

"Flush, damn you!", but it backed up, shit smearing as water sloshed uselessly. Elijah plunged futilely, grumbling through the struggle, "Fucking hell, the coach told this toilet might not clog but fucking god Damon. The toilet destroyer wins again... I’m never getting rid of that stupid nickname, what a piece of shit." He kicked me and commented as he left me clogged, drowning in his enormous load.

…

The clog was a nightmare I couldn't wake from. Elijah's dump sat heavy in my bowl, a thick, unyielding mass that refused to budge. Water levels rose, murky with flecks of his shit, lapping at my porcelain edges like a filthy tide. Every breath—if I could call it that—was saturated with the rank, fermented stench of his waste: earthy, almost meaty from his high-protein regimen, mixed with the sharp bite of backed-up piss from earlier users. My senses, cursed to be hyper-aware, picked up every detail. From the way the log's surface bubbled slightly, the heat still radiating from it against my cool ceramic skin.

I gurgled helplessly, my tank trying to cycle water in futile loops, but nothing flushed. Elijah, you asshole, I thought, rage mixing with revulsion. The "Toilet Destroyer" had lived up to his name, leaving me as a stinking, plugged fixture. The stall door stayed shut, but I could hear the locker room thinning out with the guys heading home after practice. Still, the humiliation burned. I was the team's star, reduced to this: a toilet overflowing with one man's shit, waiting for someone to notice.

Thankfully or not, soon someone opened the door to find the clogged fixture inside.

It didn't take long for someone else to come. The outer bathroom door swung open, heavy footsteps echoing on the tile. The janitor, Mr. Ruiz, the old guy who cleaned up our messes every night. The stall door rattled as he yanked it open.

"Jesus, what a mess," he grumbled. Up close, I saw his weathered face with stubble graying at the edges and a work shirt stained from years of this crap. He didn't know I was in here, of course. I was just another toilet to fix. He set down his bucket, pulled on rubber gloves, and grabbed the plunger from his cart. The rubber head, slimy from past jobs, hovered over me.

The first plunge was torture. He slammed it down onto the mess, the suction pulling at my sensitive rim like fingers gripping too tight. A vibration shot through my entire form, amplifying the taste of Elijah's load as it smeared and shifted. Bits broke off, swirling in the water, forcing me to "feel" the mushy texture against every inch. Stop, please, stop! But only a wet slosh escaped. He was just doing his job, oblivious, but to me, it was pure humiliation to have a stranger's hands working my "body" as if I was plumbing.

After what felt like forever, ten minutes of plunging that left me vibrating and raw he finally got it moving. One last hard push, and the mass slurped down, the flush kicking in automatically. I swallowed it all in a rush, the torrent sliding down my throat in one humiliating gulp, the taste lingering like a bad aftertaste that wouldn't fade. He then grabbed some cleaning products and pushed inside my mouth a filthy looking brush which he rubbed all around, Ruiz wiped his brow, flushed me once more for good measure, and left the stall door ajar.  He called out to no one, grabbing his cart and shuffling away.

There were still almost four days to go yet

[hornyraunchstories]

A sticky Situation (Extra)

………

I woke up to the familiar weight of Tyler's ass pressing down on my face, the glue was still holding me prisoner and refused to give up. The night had been a nightmare, trapped under (or within?) my brother’s ass during the night was a torture as the combination of his ass sweat, the heat of the summer, the blanket for some reason covering us, and the sporadic fart that jolted me awake and turned Dutch-ovened me turned my night into something like a sauna from hell.

My mouth and tongue felt raw from the accidental licks and the constant exposure to his musky crack. But as the morning light filtered through the curtains, and Tyler started stirring away and pulling on me with his hip’s movement, I realized with dread that the glue hadn't budged an inch. If anything, my face felt more fused to his cheeks, the dried sweat and residue acting like an extra adhesive.

Tyler stirred above me, groaning as he stretched. "Ugh... good morning?" His voice was groggy,  He shifted, trying to sit up, but that only ground his hole closer to my lips. He then let out a small, involuntary pfft—a leaky fart that hissed right into my mouth, warm and sour, like spoiled milk mixed with last night's beans. It lingered, making my eyes water. 

I could hear his stomach gurgling now, a deep, ominous rumble that vibrated through his body and into mine. I then felt him tense around me as he muttered something. It had been building all night, I realized. Ever since he'd ignored the bathroom before bed, too lazy or too "worked up" to deal with it. And now, with me still glued in place, there was no escape. 

My heart pounded as panic set in.

Unfortunately it was true.

“I don’t know how to say this bro,but I really need to use the toilet,” said Jordie to me in a very stiff voice. “Let’s try to loosen the glue in the shower but… if not, we’ll need to look into some alternatives”.

So we directed ourselves towards the bathroom, where we tried again to ply ourselves apart under the shower with no avail. After doing that and drying ourselves up, I could feel Jordie’s patience starting to slip.

So against my futile protests,  he positioned himself over the toilet, but it was useless—my face was sealed right there, nose pressed into his hairy crack, lips brushing his pucker. He squatted awkwardly, thighs straining, but the angle was all wrong. "Jordie... dude, I can't hold it. It's been more than a day. " His voice was strained.  "I'm sorry, man. This is fucked up. But if I don't... it'll just come out anyway, and you'll probably choke on it anyway. So the only alternative I see is if you just... open your mouth? I know it’s gross as fuck that you have to eat my shit, and I didn’t plan on truly really using you as a toilet, but…Please? I’ll try to make it quick." 

I protested, but he ignored me and instead took out some towels and put them on the ground before trying to sit down, I tried to resist with no results. I was going to hurt myself if I continued to resist, so after some more fighting I gave up and let Tylee take over. I was already sort of resigned. Tyler had already gotten into his head that this was the best solution for his issue, so my opinion had just become irrelevant.

I was just to resign myself and try to endure the next events.

The final position needed as he squatted over, my head was cushioned by the towels, as he squatted on my face, crushing me somewhat with his weight as he held the rest of his body weight by gripping between the Toitel and the sink.

He said with more urgency.

“I’m gonna start now Jordie, just tap me when you’ve had about a mouthful, and I’ll try to cut it off there.

I braced myself, heart hammering as Tyler's weight settled heavier, his grip tightening on the sink and toilet for balance. 

The towels cushioned my head, but nothing could soften the dread twisting my gut. I knew Tyler's habits all too well, he was a typical jock obsessed with fueling his ripped body with protein. And after living with him all my life, I knew what that lifestyle meant for his gut. But, I’ve never considered it something of my concern until now.

"Here we go," Tyler muttered, urgency sharpening his voice as he bore down. At first, just a tense silence, his hole clenching against my lips, the musky hairs tickling my nose. 

Then…bam!

There was No slow buildup, but a sudden, chaotic blast. His pucker spasmed open, unleashing a hot, loose explosion straight into my mouth—not a flood, thank god, but overwhelming in its sloppy fury. It was like a pressurized fart turned to mush, spraying bitter, acidic sludge across my tongue and cheeks in erratic bursts. 

The taste hit like a gut punch: tangy and sharp, like fermented veggies and meat mixed with the sour bite aroma of beans and an undercurrent from yesterday's eggs. Slimy flecks clung everywhere, warm and gritty, the stench blooming thick and pungent, searing my nostrils even as I clamped my jaw to contain it. I gagged violently, body bucking under him, tears flooding my eyes, the humiliation crashing in waves as my brother's loose shit painted my mouth like some vile abstract art.

Tyler let out a sharp grunt, surprise lacing his strained tone. "Ah, shit—sorry, bro, that ripped out quicker than expected." There was a flicker of reluctance there, like he hadn't planned the mess, his body tensing with mild urgency to regain control. 

Tyler felt weird, shitting down his brother's mouth was weird, but he had to relieve himself somehow. Still, the experience was… weird. There was barely any sound, as when he was in the toilet and every emission of his ass was heard with the sort of echo a porcelain toilet had. Instead, it felt muffled. He barely heard anything if not for the surprises moaning and wriggling and kicking Jordie made under him. 

Plus the contact of his asshole with another warm wet hole wasn’t so… unpleasant. 

Still, he trie not giving it too much thought as he was bursting and in need to continue.

Unaware of my brother’s thoughts, the initial trauma wrecked me. I choked on the loose gunk, coughing up bits that splattered back into his crack, my mind screaming at the depravity—swallowing the sloppy prelude to my own brother's waste, the flavor invading every corner, shame hotter than the mess itself. But after those frantic first swallows to clear my airway—gulping down the tangy sludge before it drowned me—it... evened out. Sort of. 

Tyler eased up a notch, his voice leveling. "Okay, that wasn't the cleanest start. Are you good? Tap if there's too much. The Main course is coming—try to keep up."

He pushed again, and the solid logs kicked in, Tyler's diet on full display—abundant and merciless, exactly as I'd dreaded. The first one emerged deliberate, thick and firm from all that protein and roughage, crowning slowly against my lips before sliding in like a heavy coil over my tongue.

It was heavy and I found myself forced into tasting the dense log of overwhelmingly stinkin 'literal shit filling my mouth. The decal matter coming out my Tyler’s ass in combination with the occasional fart that inflated my cheeks like balloons made It felt like having a drainage pipe connected to my mouth. And it may have been my imagination, or my brain trying to form a distraction, but through the incredibly bitter taste I almost could swear I tasted yesterday’s meal’s remnants being pushed out of my brother’s guts. The same food that provided him nutrients yesterday was turned into waste and fed to his own brother.

I tapped his thigh double-time with urgency to get him to stop and he grunted, straining to pinch it off. "Yeah... gotcha. Chew it quick, Jordie." The segment packed my mouth solid, forcing rapid bites through the tough texture, gritty chunks going down past the rising nausea. It was stickier than the spray, and I found my body falling into a grim rhythm, adapting to the volume like it was just another thing. Although I still felt like vomiting every time I tried to swallow it down.

After I finished chewing, I tried to wait a bit to gather my bearings, but Tyler must have felt me stopping to chew and decided to continue.

“Ok bro, good job! Next mouthful” he said with urgency. Perhaps because I took a bit too long. But he could try eating shit for the first time if he thought I was slow.

It was then, as he filled my mouth, of course when Tyler's grip slipped. His system was a machine after all, used to pumping out log after log. He lacked the self restraint to wait so much and cut himself. And just like many people can’t cut the stream once they start pissing, Tyler couldn’t stop now that his gut got out of his control.

It all broke. A monster turd of fiber-packed solidity barreled out unbroken—my wild taps ignored as Tyler's abs seized wrong, the whole length dumping into my mouth before I could process. I gagged and choked on the putrid mass filling me.

“Ungh” Tyler groaned from the strain the mass passing through his anus put him through, instinctively pushing more as his brother almost convulsed from the taste under him.

There was no chew time; it jammed the back of my throat, demanding a straight swallow or suffocation. The mass slithered down whole, a wriggling, lumpy bulge stretching my esophagus, unchewed grit rasping the whole way, flavors detonating raw—bitter, fibrous overload that made me retch.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK" Tyler rasped, but he ground down firmed as he continued, forcing me to tilt and gulp it live, the weight coiling into my gut like a living thing. It was the kind of monstrously long, unbroken log that coiled around the bottom toilet. Only now it was forced down my throat and would coil around my stomach.  But the desperation for air was a nice motivation, and I swallowed the shit with urgency almost as fast as it came out of a Tyler’s hole.

After a blur, it ended with a dribbly *prrrt* fart. 

It was over. And I was tired and tried to catch my breath. I could feel the weight in my stomach and knew it would probably hurt later.

"Whew... that's the lot. It was intense." Regret tinged his words for the chaos, but the persistent bulge in his shorts whispered otherwise. He rose gingerly, hauling me up. “Well, I’m sorry, I guess” he said awkwardly.

Jordie dismissed it, still numb from the experience. Meanwhile, Tyler struggled to suppress an erection as the whole experience somehow turned him on. The guilty pleasure from using his brother like that weighting on his mind as he tried to go about the day.

[hornyraunchstories]

A Sticky Situation (Fart Kink, Humiliation )

A fart fetish story between two brothers, one of who gets their face glued to the other one’s ass. No Scat

When I returned from my part time job after college that day, I returned to find out my brother Luke had been having a party downstairs with his jock friends when I arrived at my house. Tired, I decided to ignore them and went upstairs. 

My parents were out of town for the week, and my brother Tyler had a game soon and I didn’t want he and his friends to get any ideas as my brother seemed to enjoy harassing me in front of his friends —and alone as well — I was tired, so I went straight to my room and did my usual nighttime routine, shaved the light hair on my face and slapped on some of my aftershave cream, and passed out.

I woke up to a weight in my bed and as I opened my eyes I stared at the bare ass of my Tyler as he parted his muscular cheeks with his hands and sat over my open mouth.

I felt his asscheeks cover me as my nose was rubbed against his crack and his unkept ass hair rubbed against my face.

“Stomph!” I tried to scream and push him off but I had no chance. The weight and size difference alone made it impossible as he crushed me under his ass and let out a rumbling fart.

Brpp! Brpp! Brbrbrbrbrt!

“Hahahah, enjoy the smell down there?”

The fart was hot and burning and the smell was awful as it filled his lungs through his mouth at point blank.

Fuck, he could even taste it. Pungent and salty though that may be the sweaty ass he was in.

“I just did some light workout so you can enjoy it more, don’t you wanna thank me?”

The fart left me coughing and he continued with the onslaught, his ass holding me against the bed as he farted in my mouth which I struggled to close under his weight and my coughing.

I put my hands on his thighs trying to get him off me, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Get off me!” I left out a muffled scream

“Hmm, let me think…” he paused. “How about?…” 

 *Pfft!* 

He released a noxious fart directly into my face, I tried to close my mouth only to find the smell sliding into my nose without any other escaping route

“ No!”

I thrashed, resisting the urge to cough more knowing it would only end with him farting into my mouth; something he unfortunately had been fancying lately after ‘getting used’ to my nose in his hole.

He laughed at my struggles, sometimes I wondered If he liked it he then paused for a moment. I heard a grumble in his stomach and he left out an “Ungh” as he clutched his stomach and leaned forward pressing me harder into the bed with his ass.

His pelvis pressed into me through his muscular buttocks as he aligned his ass against my tightly closed lips, flattening my lower face and chin. 

I got to see the roof of my room as he leaned, revealing my eyes, though most of my nose remained still in his ass crack, the only difference being that now that I was not pressed I could feel his hairs tickling my noise with every breath. 

Oh god it was awful.

“Here comes a big one! I can feel it, Get ready…” he said, his stomach gurgled once more and he let loose.

It started slow, a few timid brpts as if testing and picked up pace, like a burning punch into my face. I felt it burn with a smell so vile, like vinegar and salt and sweat and rotten meat.

Bpp… bppp… bppPPPPPPPFFFFRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT!! 

It continued violating my nostrils and then a small pause, an ass rubbing against my face and…

Pffflrrbttt… Schlrrrp pbpbt

I fucking felt it as a sticky and slimy liquid burst out of my brothers fucking ass. It spread along my face and his asscheeks, covering my cheeks and mouth and LIPS in a disgusting slimy sticky film that mixed with the sweat already there. The scorching air forced its way through my lips, prying them open with pure air pressure, any remnant finding its way to my nose. He had perfected his way to torture me with his farts.

I didn’t dare open my mouth as I slapped my hands against his tights, prompting him to stand up as the fluids dried against my face.

“Ugh, Shoot Jordie, I really didn’t expect that last one bro. Guess the beers of last night really did a number on me. Sorry, heh” He said, ashamed after that wet fart.

“Mmmhhhh!” Stand up!

“Oh right! Shoot! Sorry” He said and then stood up.

Or at least he tried.

As he tried to stand up, I felt myself being pulled upwards as if someone was pulling my face.

And  I wasn’t the only one, my added weight seemingly disbalanced him as he almost tripped seemingly catching himself before falling on my face ass first.

I grabbed his legs to find purchase. Scared and disoriented and with my face aching from being pulled.

“Hey! I almost broke your nose tripping there, If you wanted me to continue you just needed to ask Jordie, the game is on Monday so I could use the extra luck if you’re so eager hahaha”

“I can’t get off asshole, I’m stuck!” I talked, and felt his asshairs brush against my mouth as I talked, even entering as I tried to spit it.

“Bullshit, are you saying my fart glued you to my ass?” He joked and stood up — pulling me with him. 

“Careful asshole!” I screamed as he pulled me without effort. I shifted my posture ending being on my knees on the bed, my face stuck in his ass as if I was giving him a rimjob even as I tried to pull away.

“I’m the asshole? You’re literally on my asshole!”

“Only an asshole does this to his freaking brother! And now we’re stuck like this!”

“It’s your fault for being such a pipsqueak then don’t you think? If you don’t want to be my fart sniffer then be a real man and fight me off, until then you’re my fart slave and you should be thankful I use you for good luck, at least that way you serve for something!”

“Oh yeah!? That’s what you think!? You’re an idiot, you know it? The only thing decent about you are your athletic skills so what about you shut your trap and…”

Brrrpt

*Coff coff* He farted into my mouth as I tried to protest, the awful smell sending me into a coughing spurt. 

“Eugh, You can’t win any discussion with just fart-”

Pbt!

“You can’t-“

Prpfft!

“You said?” He laughed, and I could almost see his smirk from here.

“Fuck you”

“At least I’m not stuck to an ass, now let’s solve this. I enjoy farting on you but even I don’t want my last meal to become your next one”

I froze at the prospect.

“Yeah, let’s see what we can do”

At first I tried to hold onto the bed frame as Luke pulled, but I felt like my flesh was going to rip off my face before getting unstuck, and Luke stopped after he felt the same would happen to him. In his own words “He couldn’t get hurt like that with a game so soon”.

After figuring out how to move, which consisted of sort of walking-sliding on my knees after placing some clothes under them. We walked to the bathroom where we tried to unstick us in the shower but to no avail. 

Other than waterboarding me in my brother’s ass.

At least it didn't smell that bad after the fact.

The sound of a hair dryer could be heard in the bathroom as Luke dried his ass and my face after the experience letting me breathe in a mostly dry ass.

“Let’s go eat breakfast” he said and after nearly tripping on the stairs several times, we got to the first floor. 

As soon as we got to the first floor I heard a ruckus.

“Hahaha! What’s up with that?” I heard Mike laugh, his voice pitchy enough I could remember his name through the impression he left.

“Whoa! What the hell happened bro why is Jordie on your ass?” Asked one of Luke’s friends. Jason I think?

“I don’t know! I was just giving him a special waking up with my ass when suddenly he got stuck there!”

“Yo, you mean you farted on his face bro? Hahaha that’s hilarious! I already know what happened!” Mike laughed “Me and Jordie wanted to play you both a joke and replaced the aftershave cream with some joke glue we found at this website”

“What!?” I screamed from out of my brother’s ass, stray hairs entering my mouth that I soon tried to spit out. 

“Oh chill out bro, we were expecting you to glue yourself to your pillow or something, but this is way more hilarious! It’s supposed to be triggered by water, how did it even happen!?”

“Ehh, let’s ignore that,” Tyler said. Seemingly more ashamed of admitting he had a sweaty arse than letting his friends know how he farted on my face. “How do I get the pipsqueak out of my ass is a more important question!”

“I don’t know bro, the instructions said it should go away in a day or two on its own” He said. 

“Well nothing to do about it I guess”  Said Tyler. “Guess we’ll have to deal with it for now”.

“Mmmh! Mhmmmh!”

I tried to protest, but all my protests went unheard under my brothers ass.

The friends burst into laughter again, Mike slapping his knee like it was the funniest thing ever. "Dude, Jordie's your personal ass warmer now? That's gold!"

Tyler shifted his weight, and I felt his cheeks clench around my face. "Shut up, man. This ain't funny. Pass me some cereal or something. I'm starving."

They finally settled down enough to eat, but for me, it was hell. Tyler plopped down at the kitchen table, which meant my knees hit the floor hard as he dragged me along. I was basically on all fours behind him, face buried in his ass like some twisted backpack. Every time he moved, his hairs tickled my nose, and the lingering smell from earlier made my eyes water.

He started shoveling food in—bacon, eggs, beans, the works. "Mmm, this hits the spot," he mumbled through a mouthful. Then, without warning, his gut rumbled right against my forehead.

Prrrrt! A quick one slipped out, the short burst of warm and eggy air blasting my nostrils. I tried to jerk back, but the glue held firm. "Dude, your farts are echoing off Jordie's face!" Jason howled.

Tyler chuckled, wiggling his butt. "Yeah? Well, he's getting the full breakfast special. Open wide, Jordie, time to feed you!"

What? No way. He reached back, grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate, and... oh god, he tried to shove it toward his own ass crack. "C'mon, bro, eat up through the back door. It's more efficient this way!"

I mumbled protests, but it came out as muffled nonsense. The bacon smeared against his cheek, greasy and pointless. "Haha, he's not biting! Guess my ass ain't appetizing enough." The guys cracked up, and Tyler just ate the bacon himself, farting again as punishment.

Brraaap! This one was longer, meaty from the bacon, filling my lungs with that sour, greasy stench. I coughed, which only made me inhale more of his filth. "There, that's your protein shake, fart flavor."

Breakfast dragged on like that. While he ate, I suffocated on his gas while trying to get the scraps he placed in his ass into my mouth. By the end, my face felt like a sauna, slick with sweat and whatever residue from his meals.

The friends left eventually, still snickering, but thankfully leaving us alone. It was enough having Tyler treating me like some sort of fart-plaything, but it was utterly humiliating to have his friends snicker every time I inevitably coughed from the stench.

Tyler stood up, pulling me to my feet. "Alright, time to chill. TV it is." He waddled to the couch, me in tow, and dropped down. My world went dark again as his full weight settled on my face, cheeks spreading wide. The glue made it impossible to escape; I was pinned, nose deep in his crack.

He flipped on some action movie, volume cranked. But his stomach wasn't done. Every laugh or explosion on screen set him off.

"Hah, that guy's toast." Sprrt! A wet fart splattered against my face, coating me in a nasty substance. "Whoops, beans talking back."

I squirmed, hands pushing at his thighs, but he just ground down harder. "Quit fidgeting, Jordie. You're my cushion now. Better get comfy"

It felt as if hours passed blurred by in a haze of farts and tv noise. All the while, my brother’s incontinent ass continued torturing me. Silent killers that burned my sinuses, and loud rips pried my lips open and rattled my teeth as they echoed within my mouth, forcing me to taste them.

 It was when I thought it could possibly not get any worse when Tyler, in his egocentric mind, decided to do so carelessly.

"Welp, got a workout to do. The coach wants me sharp for the game." He ignored my frantic head shakes and headed to the living room floor for push-ups. As he tried to push himself up, perhaps my weight or some imbalance, he ended up falling on his face. 

“Motherfucker!” Tyler exclaimed in pain. Then he Turner his anger towards me. “Jordie, cooperate if you know whats good for you, otherwise I might decide to do a bench press with you still down there, to see how hard that heavy head of yours is” .

So with that threat, I folded.

Each rep lifted his ass slightly, and I had to cooperate for it to be successful. Otherwise, Tyler would make sure to fart on me even more to make me comply.

The session was tiring, and I was suffocating from a lack of air as the more we exercised the more humid and damp the crease of Tyler got. But that was not the end of it.

Urrp-pt! "One... two..." The push-ups turned into squats, his hole flexing inches from my mouth. Sweat dripped, mixing with the smells. "Feel that burn? You're burning too, huh?"

I protested louder, but he laughed it off. "Protests noted. Now, lunges!" More movement, more gas. By the end, he was glistening, and I was drenched in his scent, exhausted from the ride.

Finally, night fell. 

"Bedtime, fart buddy." Upstairs we went, and we managed to get up the stairs with me shuffling behind. He flopped onto my bed—his room was a mess—and positioned himself reverse, ass on my face again. "Perfect ass pillow." He commented, still not letting go of the puns.

He just lied there shifting through his phone for a while, as I simmered in the juices of his dried ass sweat.

I thought that was it, and that we would fall asleep finally. But then I felt him shift restlessly for a while, then, I heard an all familiar intro and a chime.

Oh no. Fuck no.

“Mmmh! Mmmh!” I protested.

I felt his muscles tense above me gradually and then relax, the motion repeated a few times as his glutes tightened around my face and his hips grinned against me.

His hand started reaching down. "Kinda worked up from the day. Mind if I...?" His hand gripped his dick, starting to stroke. 

‘Of course I funcking mind’ I cried, but the weight of his ass against me muffled my protest and his lust muddled mind disregarded me.

So, without a care in the world, Tyler started to beat his meat while lying on top of me. An obscene sound of smacking being produced as his balls smacked my forehead with each pump. 

Thwack, thwack. The rhythm built, his breaths heavy. "Fuck, that's good."

I endured, humiliated, the musky smell intensifying as his sweat reactivated under the strain. But a while passed, and he didn’t seem able to finish. To the dismay of all involved.

Tyler made a frustrated sound.

 "C'mon, Jordie, help a bro out. I’m feeling a little shy with you here, Just rim me a bit so I can loosen out a little. Just give me some tongue action. It'll make me finish faster, I swear, my girlfriends just never want to do it, and hey it may loosen this glue." Tyler 

No way. But he ground down, pleading in that cocky tone. "Please? For your big bro? Just a few licks, and I swear I’ll finish and we're done."

Tyler continued pleading to me while still stroking his dick. Trying to convince me.

 It was only after I felt truly exhausted that I flicked my tongue with acceptance, tasting the salt and sweat of my brother's entrance. It didn’t taste as bad as it did once, as I had been essentially blabbering all over it all day, but it still never tasted fully clean with the constant exhaust that he let rip.

As Tyler felt my tongue he moaned, speeding up. "Yeah, like that." More licks, as his balls slapped harder. He made an even more frustrated sound. “C’mon Jord, please, just a bit more, just stick your tongue inside a bit, please.”

I decided to comply, and thrust my tongue into the hot twitching entrance of my brother. The moment my tongue got inside, he pushed against me, pinning me and getting more of my tongue inside his asshole. I felt the slimy muscular walls of his anus tighten around my tongue and convulse as he moaned and came with a groan, hot spurts landing.

He rolled off slightly, panting. Then, as if tired and satisfied, sleep claimed Tyler immediately. While I remained trapped on his ass, enduring endless night farts and hoping that tomorrow the glue would disappear before he needed to inevitably use the toilet in the morning.

[story92746]

Bro

My brother loved to torture me. he’d always rub any source of stink on my face. I was 14 at the time and even though I had some muscle my brother, Mark was the god of jocks standing at a monster 6 foot 2 and covered in muscle at the age of 17

it was 2 weeks into the summer and I woke up to something on my face. I took a sniff and gagged it was then that i knew what it was.It was my brother. Pprrttbbt “ooh sniff that up bitch” mark said with enjoyment. He loved waking me up to his stink, whether that meant him farting, or just holding one of his dirty socks up to my nose.

Around the same time that week our parents had to leave for 2 weeks to visit family and of course they were leaving mark in charge.f***.

2 days after our parents left. as I walked to my room I walked into my brother wearing a pair of tightie whites which looked too small for him,“ hey Bro, I’m having a party tonight it’s gonna be fucking awesome, so stay in your room, k? That’s my first order, follow all of my orders and the next two weeks will be bearable, but don’t do as I say and i can make it much different”

The day after his party was quiet, maybe my brother was being mature. I had spent the previous day in my room. I walked into the living room to find it in a complete state.“Mark!!” i shouted. I heard thumping from his room and he came out, FUCKING NAKED.“what the f*** I was sleeping you shit”. “first of all put some clothes on ffs and second look at this mess” mark scanned the room and laughed “oh it won’t be like this for long, cus your gonna clean it” I was furious “am I f***” a dark smirk grew on his face “well if you won’t clean then you can have another job that’ll last the 2 weeks, you can be my scent bitch” I knew what this meant and tried to run even if I knew there was no point. He grabbed me and dragged me to his room “you ain’t getting away, I have a shit ton of morning thunder” he threw me on his bed gave me a cocky smirk and sat BAREASS on my face. The smell was horrific. “here it comes Bro” I felt his cheeks clench before releasing a Loud trumpet, BBRRAPTTTTTABT. He was over my mouth so I had no other choice than to sniff . It was a toxic, shitty smell and they kept coming. Pprrttbbt. oh that was a wet one bitch, Brrapptbbt. ooh bbbraptssth. mg nose was burning on the sulphuric compounds. ok i got stuff to do for now so I’m gonna just knock ya out. I felt him bear down PPssshhhrttrrshurt. A sizzling sbd and I feel dizzy. nighty night Bro PRAPBBBTBPAARTSJHHHBRAPTshhhpb raptshhh. I faded while gagging. I woke up not not remembering where I was until I looked around and found myself in my brothers room. It was then I remembered what had happened. I tried to get up but I was tied to his bed and to make matters worse he had put duct tape over my mouth so I was forced to smell the air still smelling like his farts. I don’t know how long I waited until I heard the door “Hey Bro, I’m home” he walked in and laughed when he saw me “and guess what, I’ve been at the gym so I’m nice and sweaty for you. I almost got kicked out because I refused to wear deodorant and was stinking the place out haha we’re gonna have fun” he laid down on top of me on his side with his elbow above me so u were forced into his greasy pit “ooh f*** that reeks, sniff it up” he rubbed his pit over my nose for what seemed like an eternity but was probably just 20 minutes “ooh my other armpit feels left out, you’re going to have to make it up to him” he rips the duct tape off your mouth but before you can scream he forces his armpit into your mouth “please maagghrk staahp” I gurgled into his pit “ok I will stop but now those Buritos I had before coming home are acting up” he gets up and lowers his shorts and underwear until you see his sweaty and hairy ass crack “ NO MARK PLEAGHGH” was all I got out before he sat his hole on my mouth “shut up bitch, or I’ll shit down your throat” you stay silent after that “Here we go” mark yells before squeezing a sbd that fires out of his ass and down my throat, I start gagging “ ooh that one felt nasty” I spent the next half hour getting blasted by every fart known to man. sbd’s, loud trumpeting blasts and once he even farted a wet one and i felt the ass juice hit the back of my throat. “ok I’m off to go fuel up and watch TV, when I come back I may even have a little treat for you” he went to put his underwear on “wait what the f*** am I doing I don’t need a wear underwear in the house” he holds the ass part to his back side and rips a fart that lasted like 14 seconds and grabs the duct tape “I’ll give you these so you can keep my scent, haha” he then taped the ass part to my nose “later bitch”

[hornyraunchstories]

Kiss my ass Losers!

(Themes: Farts, Epoctrophila, no-scat) READ THE TAGS

The Coyotes and the Wildcats were two soccer teams playing in the town and had a historical toxic rivalry among them. This was so much so, that it had become tradition for them to make bets and establish humiliating punishments if one team were to lose.

Backed by their teammates, the captains of the two teams, Josh and Derek clashed on the medium of the field before the game. Trashtalking was as much a tradition as were the bets that came from the game.

“So, what's going to be the bet this time, Wild pussies?” Josh had said.

“I don’t know Josh, but I don’t care because we’re going to make you kiss our asses at the game tonight!" Derek had said.

“Now that’s an idea” said Josh “The loser’s have to kiss the ass of the winners, I feel that’s a fair bet isn’t it?” He yelled and his team agreed.

Derek recoiled a little, but he wasn’t one about to back out. They have had many nasty bets already; he was not one to fear for escalation.

“I didn’t know you were so eager to smell my farts, but I guess a stray dog does what any dog does.” Said Derek. “Fine then, if the loser team has to kiss the ass of the winners. And if we win, you’ll eat my farts, does that sound good to you?”

Now it was the time for Josh to recoil a bit, but he grinned.

“The bets ON. Prepare to eat my farts”. He said.

At the beginning of the game, the Wildcats had the advantage and scored first. The Coyotes answered later in the match, evening the score as play continued evenly between the two teams. With the stakes, neither was eager to lose. 

After that, the game remained close, with neither side clearly dominating. However, near the end, the Coyotes scored one more point and passed the Wildcats by a single goal. Because of that last score, the Coyotes won the game.

Then, of course, came the gloating of the winners.

“Yeah!” Said Josh. “Line up and drop your shorts boys, we’re getting our asses 

kissed!”

He said, and his teammates made a show of mooning the losers, marking ruckus and slapping their own cheeks to humiliate the losers.

As the game was decided the Wildcats all wore reluctant faces. Derek more than anyone, he regretted the bet like a loser would, but he would still abide by it nevertheless.

“Derek dude! Come, you know the captain always goes first right?” That was true, one had to lead by example if they continued to play bets with each other.

Josh continued. He was a real piece of shit that enjoyed gloating whenever he won. He really loved to rub things in.

But, so did Derek— although on a lesser degree—who was feeling dizzier by the minute as he approached his winning rival.

“I guess that means you’ll be the one to take the first taste, lucky you! I’d expect them to be quite savory and ripe since we just finished our game. So, let’s get on with it, we don’t want to get your meal cold”. Said Josh.

Josh took Derek to the first one. "Kneel down."

He did so.

The guy in front of him already had his shorts down below his ass, revealing a sweaty arse paler than the rest of his body.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Flowers? Kiss that ass!”

Derek closed his eyes and quickly delivered a smooch on the warm players’ buttocks. Even as fast as he was, he felt the dank warm sweat cling to his lips. Still, he thought, one less.

Until Josh objected.

“What the fuck was that?” Said Josh.

“What? I did want you told me!”. Derek was outraged.

“Bah, we both know that wasn’t enough! Barely a kiss on the cheeks. You would’ve said the same in my place, so man up, pucker up, and kiss that pucker! I want to hear a smack or it doesn’t count!” Josh yelled. 

“Don’t you agree?” Josh asked his team, who made agreeing sounds as they taunted the spectating losers whose turn would come after his captain’s.

“And you Tristan, Spread those cheeks so he can kiss your lower mouth properly! Same for the rest of you!”

“Sorry Cap” Tristan did as he was told and took his cheeks in his hands as he parted them to reveal a wrinkly hole.

Bill slowly pulled his shorts down, bent forward slightly and pulled his

cheeks apart. Almost immediately, and from such a close distance, Derek felt as if a wave of heat exuded from Tristan's ass and hit him in the face.

Derek hesitated as he approached, and that made it only worse. He smelled the musky smell almost immediately. Of sweat and shit reawakened by a game’s effort. God it stank.

Gathering his resolver, he put his hands on the players hips and dived in his ass, pursing his lips together to deliver a smooch on the wrinkly hole. He tried to make it quick, but as he sucked in to create a smack of lips and ass he couldn’t help but reel in his place as he felt the other man’s hole tremble slightly thanks to his kiss.

As Derek parted, he couldn’t help but notice his lips felt slimier and some of the smell clung to him. 

“That’s better” Said Josh. “Now only ten more to go!”

Still shaken, Derek steeled himself to continue.

The next four guys went pretty much the same, and although the third one made him feel humiliated after having to dive into his pubic ass-hair and getting one stuck in his lips after the kiss.

Unfortunately for him though, by the time he'd make his way towards the fifth guy, a great burst of hot rank air burst from his hole. Derek started coughing and spluttering from the sheer stink of that fart. He had timed it for the moment of the smooch, and so the smell creeped inside Derek’s mouth and clung to his lips and lungs as he fell backwards, spluttering and coughing.

Someone snickered. Maybe more than one.

Derek was outraged.

“Hey! That wasn’t the deal!” He said grumbling as he tried to clean his lips with his arm.

Josh only assented trying to keep a still face.

“True, hey Lucas, what’s up with that man? If you don’t burp while being kissed on the lips you shouldn’t fart when getting your arse kissed, it’s basic manners man”. He said irritatingly.

“Sorry Captain, it was an accident!” The man named Lucas said with mirth in a fake apologetic tone. “You know how one can get after some exercise."

“Oh I do know.” He said and patted his stomach. “Oh well, no fault done if it was an accident. Accidents happen.”

He said and raised his voice to address his team.

“But I don’t want this to repeat ok? He'll be eating my farts later. I don't want you dirty dogs spoiling his appetite.”

He then approached Derek, who was still on the ground.

“Come on man, man up! There’s still less than half to go. You wouldn’t back off from a bet would you?”. Josh said.

And as disgusted as Derek was, and reluctant to continue, his pride (trampled upon as it was due to the situation) wouldn’t let him back off. 

He would have to think of something worse to do to smug Josh next time. 

But for now, Derek continued with the ass-kissing procession.

Some were sweatier than others, leaving his face humid with their juices.

Some were cleaner than others, which mainly meant that they  smelled predominantly of sweat and musk. Though Derek didn’t believe there was a truly clean ass among them all, as they all smell like shit.

The worse were the hairier ones, as he struggled to kiss an ass that had bits of  something-he-rather-not-think-about, plus the sweat clung more fiercely than in a hairless ass.

But Derek pushed through, resisting nausea until he finally reached the end of the line and it was the turn of Josh’s ass, who had been following along and watching him kiss his team’s holes.

“Well man, I think it’s better we go over how this is gonna go right?” Josh Clapped his hands and said.

“What do you mean?” Asked Derek. “I’ll do what the bet says and get this over with”.

“I love your enthusiasm, but we never quite fleshed out the details, right? I mean, I do believe that I’m also entitled to a nice kiss in my pucker you know?”

“Fine.” Derek said reluctantly. It was true that it was part of the bet and one more ass couldn’t make the difference. It was the next part that he dreaded.

“Nice, then I figure you should stay there for a while longer while I push a few farts for you to eat, does thirty minutes sound to you? That’s how long a good meal should last” Said Josh with mirth.

“No fucking way” Said Derek. “One fart and it’s over!”

“No way dude, you said farts in plural.”.

“No way, I’m not having my face in your ass for such a long time.” Even Derek wouldn’t do that.

“Man, you’re so difficult. But I’m feeling generous after watching you kiss my teammates' asses so nicely. Okay, ten minutes sound nice to you? Or are you a pussy and won’t do even that.”

“Fine” Derek growled.

“Sweet ”. Josh said and put himself in position. Josh was a tall man who frequented the gym very often, and his build was muscular and his back wide. Unfortunately for Derek, that’s lowering his shorts to reveal a big hairy ass.

Derek kneeled behind him, and immediately after Josh grabbed him by the back of his head gripping his hair. 

“What? I don’t want you pulling out if things get nasty; and they’ll get nasty” he winked.

Feeling the weight of Josh’s hand on the back of his head, Derek steeled himself one last time to go through. 

Usually, he tried to hold his breath a little, but he figured that it had no point if he was gonna be ten minutes in his rival’s ass and quite literally eating his farts— this however proved to be a mistake, because as he catched the first breath of the nasty man’s ass, he couldn’t help but feel nausea from the pungent smell that assaulted him.

Derek felt how the wet ass hairs of a man he despised clung to his skin. But he delivered his promise and delivered a smooching kiss on Josh’s asshole. A few hairs stuck to his lips, and he tried to push them away making his tongue graze the other man’s hole. He felt the other man’s anus tremble on his lips as he made contact, and when he instinctively tried to pull back the grip on his hair tightened as Josh kept him there.

It felt ever so more humiliating than everything else he had done that night.

But unlike with them, his lips remained plastered around the other man’s hole even after the fact. He felt the two humid hot asscheeks against his skin as he was forced to breathe on the smell of his ass.

Then he heard the grumbling. The anus between his lips vibrated a bit and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of despair.

“Man, I really get gassy after some good excesses, I’ve been holding back since you started kissing ass dude.” Josh put on a timer and started to rub his stomach as if to put up a show, or maybe he really felt ill from the amount of gas trapped inside him. 

Derek felt the exact moment Josh prepared to release a fart.

He felt his muscles shift his weight against his face as he leaned a bit to his right. And he felt as the muscles of his ass tensed and then relaxed a little.

Then, a silent burning gush of putrid air slid off the other man’s ass and burned his tongue. Derek felt as if he had taken a breath of pure sewage, but at least sewage wasn’t so hot and pungent. 

He felt the hot acrid air invade his insides, going down his throat and up burning his nostrils.

Josh sighed, relieved. He didn’t direct another taunting word to the defeated man whose head he held with a vice grip. In fact, it was as if he paid him no attention. As if he was simply passing gas, and not violating another man’s dignity.

Instead, without a word he pushed another fart.

Derek world’s shook as the second fart rumbled inside his head, inflating his cheeks with air as it pushed into his lungs. The fart was airy and not as burning as the last, but it made it no better as he could taste the intestinal waste of the man better.

He coughed and sputtered. But it mattered none as Josh’s hand held him tight against his ass without even sparing him a glance.

During the next fart, Derek tried holding his breath, making the utmost effort to taste as little of the other man’s gas as he could. 

This didn’t go unnoticed to Josh though, who could quite literally feel Derek’s lack of breath against his ass crack. So as Derek tried to take another breath in, Josh released a booming fart while feeling some sadistic satisfaction.

Derek felt dizzy as he inhaled the totality of the rumbling toxic air filling his lungs. By this point, he could almost start guessing what the other man had eaten.

The rest of the ten minutes went like that, as Derek was forced to endure the toxic releases from the hell bowels of Josh’s asshole.

When the alarm of the timer finally went off and Josh released Derek’s hair, the latter fell to his ass as he gasped for fresh air. His face was red and sweaty both from being in close contact with the hot skin of Josh’s ass and due to a lack of air.

“Man, my ass is all wet with spit because of you” Josh said as Derek grasped for air. He then turned to the rest of the teams. Some of his own friends are doing squats or jogging in their place, no doubt to keep their asses sweaty and nice for the next round of kisses.

He then turned to the would be ass-kissers, the losers of today’s bet. 

“Well, did you enjoy the spectacle? what the fuck are you waiting for?” He said. “Start kissing ass losers!”.

His own team echoed him with enthusiasm as the first of the losing players knelt in front of the first winner’s players ass on the line. Josh himself joining his players ready for his ass to receive some more attention.

[hornyraunchstories]

Office Toilet ( Heavy Scat )

A story loosely set on the Wasteless universe of @writinggross. Where Human toilets are commonly accepted. This is supposed to be set a little early on, when they were more a privilege.

…. In this world, the competition for a decent Job that could keep you afloat and away from falling in debt was even more harsh than on earth. This led to many employees to accept otherwise crazy conditions in their jobs.

There was a certain Elite X Company who installed a system to encourage their salesmen to put in the extra effort in their job.

The company paid a base salary plus the percentage every salesman earned with their own efforts. An unbelievably favorable deal for anyone in this world and age. However, in order to guarantee their utmost performance the “Sales Rewards and Service Program” was installed.

The sales reward program rewarded the best sellers with benefits, bonuses and other privileges while also “encouraging” those that fell behind. 

This encouragement came in various ways depending on how you ranked, but the most notable one was the ‘Service Learning Program’ where the lowest sellers were temporarily given as assistants to the best ones as an additional reward for their performance. The serving seller then would use the opportunity to learn from his better, and thus be encouraged to do better.

But while they’re said to be assistants in a learning opportunity, the truth is these were more like punishments and treated almost as common servants or slaves, and were often asked by their colleagues to do humiliating tasks such as massaging their feet or serving as footstalls. They were even sometimes asked to serve as fart filters or urinals, depending on who they were assigned to.

However, only the worst seller actually had to be an actual Toilet Slave for the best seller.

The unlucky loser this time had been Charles, while the winner was a transfer from another branch of the company, Tristan.

…

He had just gotten to the company when Tristan called him. “The Boss said you’re gonna be shadowing me from now on, he also said that until the week is over you’re in charge of all my eh… ‘Hygienic necessities and comfort’, which ‘includes but is not limited to all of the users emissions’ ” He read from a document in his hand.

“It also says that I shouldn’t use the company’s installations since you’re my assigned ‘Waste Management Utility’ ” He huffed. “So, I guess you’re gonna be my Toilet and Fart Sniffer for the rest of week and I wanted us to get acquainted before that happens, but I’m really about to piss myself y’know? Mind if I take a leak real quick?” Charlie very much did mind, but he resignedly let Jonas lead him into the Toilets and made him knelt next to the urinals.

Charles’ stomach twisted as he knelt on the cold tile floor next to the urinals, the humiliation already burning his skin. Jhonnas stood towering over him, his dick and balls centimeters from his face as he felt the heat and smell radiating from them.

"Please," Charles whispered, voice cracking. "There’s gotta be another way”

"You signed the contract, Just like the rest of us, it’s as much my duty to use you as is your duty to be used by me, and I like this job." He tapped Charles' cheek with the tip of his flaccid dick.

Charles knelt, lips trembling and gut twisting in dread and anticipation. He knew there was no escape unless he resigned. But then, his career would be over. Even if he could somehow find another job, it wouldn’t be as well paid as this one, and it’d probably had similarly bad conditions.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant.

Tristan sighed, seemingly irked by the situation.

“Look man, you lost and now you're under my ass for a week, just cooperate and this will go over much more smoothly”. He said. "Now please open up. I’ve been holding it since the morning meeting when the boss told me you’d be my toilet and I couldn’t use the urinals." 

The groan that escaped Charles was raw, guttural. His hands clenched uselessly at his sides as he tilted his head back, mouth forced wide. The first hot, sour stream hit his tongue before he was ready, making him gag, urine dripping down his chin. He could feel it. 

“Damn” he heard someone at the next urinal say. Tristan sighed above him, shifting his stance.

"Don’t let it drip man, you’re going to smell and you’re staining the floor. Plus I don’t want my shoes to smell like urine. Here, I’ll help you" He took a step in and his cock was now fully in his mouth. 

“Close your lips around it so it doesn’t drip out, just think about it like a straw or something” He heard.

Of course, it was easy for him to say that, he didn’t have a dick peeing in his mouth. Still, Charles obeyed, and the bitter salt flooding his senses was overwhelming as his cheeks swelled with the taste of urine and he forgot to swallow, some of the yellow liquid streaming down his chin. 

He could now feel Tristan’s slight irritation, so with great effort he managed to push the warm liquid down his throat in a few big gulps. 

“You see? It wasn’t that bad” Tristan said, as he shook his dick in front of his face to get rid of the drops clinging to him. It seemed to be a reflex to him, as he barely even looked down at him. It had been. It had been that bad. And the worst part? This was just the start.

Charles’ mouth still burned with the acrid aftertaste as Tristan zipped up, leaving him kneeling in the rank puddle of his own shame. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting the tiled bathroom in a sterile glare that only made the humiliation sharper. The sharp scent of ammonia clung to his lips, his tongue swollen and heavy.

…

Now in Tristan’s office, Charles knelt beside his chair, the lingering bitterness in his mouth nothing compared to what came next. 

Tristan originally had planned leaving Charles kneeling by the side of his chair, but then he remembered one of his colleagues that had used a Toilet Slave once said to him that when prepping one for his first use, he should first get his acquainted with his ass, weight and his emissions and that he should first use him as a chair beforehand. He planned to get Charles used to it today and maybe tomorrow before using him as a shitter for the first time, as he would need to do so at least once according to the contract.

Tristan had never had the privilege of breaking in a Toilet, so he decided to follow his friend’s advice. He felt a little uncomfortable being bare-assed in the office though. Even if it was technically a private one, he still had crystal walls so he decided not to take off his pants.

"I’m going to be sitting on you during my shift, like a chair, being a fart filter is one of the jobs underlined and it’s better to follow through so the boss doesn’t get mad anyway" Tristan said stiffly–It was partly true, the fart thing, not the chair thing though— lifting his hips and leaning back in his chair. Before Charles could react, a meaty hand clamped around the back of his neck, dragging him forward until his nose pressed against the straining fabric of Jhonnas’ slacks.

The musky heat of his ass radiated through the material, already thick with the promise of what was coming. Tristan didn’t bother unbuttoning his pants—just shifted his weight and sat, his full weight grinding Charles’ face into his clothed cheeks.

"Get acquainted I guess" he murmured, just as his phone rang. The first fart tore through the fabric hot and thick, flooding Charles’ nostrils with the dense, fermented stink of eggs, coffee and rotten meat. He jerked, but Tristan held him firm, his ass heavy enough to smother any escape. 

"Mm, yeah, I can pencil you in Thursday," Tristan said into the phone, voice smooth even as his ass clenched, forcing out another gurgling burst directly into Charles’ mouth and nose. He groaned, and Tristan put more of his weight like trying to silence him.

“Hold a second” He said to the phone and put a hand over the microphone, lifting his ass a little to see the man under “Hey Charles, could you be more quiet down there, I don’t want the clients noticing you please? ”

“You try doing it man” Charles said spitefully. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Tristan rolled his eyes, he was still a little sympathetic as he turned back to his call.

The taste seeped past his lips—sour, greasy and heavy— and his throat convulsed. By the third barrage, Charles’ eyes glistened with tears, his breathing reduced to shallow, panicked gasps between each humid wave of Tristan’s digestion.

The man above him chuckled, unbeknownst if it was because of something in the call or because he was enjoying himself. When the call ended, Tristan finally stood up, leaving Charles swaying on his knees, his face slick with sweat and the lingering reek of gut fumes.

"Lunchtime," Tristan announced, standing up and stretching. "Don’t eat anything. The instructions said you should limit yourself to ‘consuming only what the user provides during office hours’ and about you not being allowed to use the cafeteria facilities" He paused, looking down at Charles’ ashen face.

…

Tristan ate carelessly and plentifully, seemingly not caring about the fate of his now Toilet. He could hold it until he got home, probably. Either way, he was entitled to a bigger and nicer bonus thanks to his achievements and he planned on taking advantage of it.

There was nothing refined about the way Tristan worked through his meal, carving through the thick meat in relentless bites.  

Charles watched, jaw tight, as butter dripped from a smashed-open baked potato onto Tristan’s plate, only to be scooped up and folded into the next forkful along with some meat. Coke fizzed as he took deep, satisfied gulps between mouthfuls, his free hand already reaching for another buttered roll.  

"Damn, that’s good," Tristan muttered, wiping his mouth with his napkin before diving back in. His stomach rounded slightly under his shirt, fabric straining just enough to hint at the pressure building inside. 

By the time the plate was clean with steak fat smeared across it, crumbs of bread and flecks of potato clinging to the edges. Tristan leaned back with a low groan. 

He patted his stomach, fingers pressing into swollen belly. "Fuck, I’m bursting,"

Charles' knuckles went white under the table. 

Before going back to the office, Tristan took Charles to the bathroom to take a leak again. Charles was admittedly relieved, as he thought maybe he would escape his fate for one day. Maybe Tristan’s gut schedule meant he didn’t shit in the office. Maybe he would only be an urinal, and that was okay by him at this point.

Then in the office, Tristan worked some more. Of course, sitting on Charles face as he typed in his computer and occasionally talked to some clients. Progressively though, the farts came more often, stealing Charles of the few fresh air and replacing it with hot bursts of sewage like fumes as the food Tristan just ingested traveled through his digestive system.

At least, until the dread time came, and shattered his hopes.

*Schlrrrppp!* A particularly wet and nasty fart made Charles choke as Tristan suddenly stood up from his chair.

“Hey man, I really gotta use the Toilet now”

“You mean, like, you have to pee?” Charles asked hopefully, already dreading the answer.

“No man, like, I really gotta take a shit now” Tristan said plainly “Come on man, I really cannot wait any more,” he said more urgently as he strutted towards the private toilet in his office.

Reluctantly Charles followed him to the Toilet room. Where Tristan was already waiting.

"Come on, I’m really bursting and cannot wait more" he grunted. “Lie down already”.

Charles did so with great reluctance, lying down on the cold floor as his face aligned with the squat toilet on the bathroom floor.

Tristan unbuttoned his slack and undo his belt, and the sound was nearly drowned out by the thick, bubbling growl of his gut.  

"Here we go," Tristan sighed, squatting and easing himself down as he pushed his pants down and placed his weight on Charles face, trying to align his asshole with his mouth as he did so.

Charles opened his mouth, and soon he had a pulsing hairy asshole comfortably between his lips.

*Pbtbtbtbtb!*

The first blast was rancid and hot of half-digested steak and garlic, a hot, gassy punch that flooded Charles’ mouth before he could even gag. He choked, shoulders jerking, but Tristan just braced his hands on his knees and pushed, letting loose a shuddering stream of thick, sour air.  

"ahhh" Tristan sighed, shifting his weight to squeeze out another wet, gurgling sputter.  

Charles’ eyes watered, his throat burning with bile and humiliation, but Tristan wasn’t done.

Tristan shifted, letting his slacks sag further down his hips—not for humiliation, not for cruelty, but because he was comfortable. Why shouldn’t he be? This was just a function, natural as breathing. He had been feeling a little guilty up until now, of having to use his coworker as a mere toilet, but at this critical moment where he needed relief he finally had come to terms with it.

Charles was a human being, yes. But right now, he was only his toilet, and he really needed to take a shit. So he would have to treat him like a toilet.

So, with great effort, Tristan grunted as he dumped the contents of his bowels on Charles’s own hot wet orifice. A big solid log sliding out of his arse and into Carles mouth.

He felt Charles buckle under him, retching and moving, but he pinned him down with his weight and held his legs from moving. The effort made Tristan’s gut loosen, and he really wanted to release another load, but he held to not choke Tristan. 

He had researched the internet while in his office, and people said that he needed to wait until the Toilet finished chewing before letting another load. But he was impatient. Especially after feeling Charles stilling under him, frozen as if Tristan wasn’t in a rush to continue.

“You have to chew, chew man. Or I guess chew Toilet Charles, otherwise you’ll feel sick of the stomach later. If you cannot chew it down in the next three minutes tops, I’ll continue and I swear I won’t stop just because you’re having another one of your freakouts” Tristan said, urged and irritated. “I swear I’ll push it down straight into your throat and stomach and not stop until I feel relieved” He said, and put a chronometer on his phone.

“Lick my arse when you are ready for the next mouthful”. He said, and let himself be more comfortable by resting more of his weight on his Toilet’s face-seat. Crushing Chalres painfully under his weight. Not like he cared anymore, the man was not cooperating, so he could be treated like a toilet.

Meanwhile, Charles had received a shock. The taste of Tristan’s shit was undescribable, pungent and acrid. Like garlic and onion and fat and rotten meat. It was warm like the man’s own guts, and it felt like a mockery of the food he had eaten. It overwhelmed Charles' senses, as his own body rejected the waste coming out of the other man’s body.

It didn’t care about the logic of his mind, or keeping his job, it was just so awful and degrading it triggered his own survival instincts.

He struggled with no purchase, and finally calmed when his body realized there was no escape.

It was then that Tristan lost his patience, and made his threat. Still struggling, Charles chewed through the monstrous log, releasing even more of the pungent taste and aroma until it felt as if it escaped through his nostrils as he swallowed bit by bit.

When he finally finished, and signaled Tristan by lapping at his ass and touching his cheeks.

“Fucking finally” He said and let his entrails loose.

The next mouthful was not easier than the first, and his body still retched trying to throw up, but he swallowed it with all his will. If there was a small mercy, it was that it wasn’t an as generous amount as the first had been. But the large man was still far from empty.

He did the same with the next dump, establishing into a routine, trying to disassociate. He felt Tristan push, his hole trembled and farted and let loose a fart or two as he pushed his waste onto Charles mouth, he chewed holding down his own retching instincts and swallowed down. Then, he lapped at

By the end Charles was shocked as a more liquid shit spayed with pressure into his mouth, little bits clinging everywhere as the intestinal acids of the Tristan burned his mouth, filling it to the brim with a hellish soup. At the very least, they were easier to swallow, and he swallowed two more before Tristan finally stopped.

Tristan hadn't paid him more attention after his initial outburst, and was staring at his phone. Charles felt he had finished though, but Tristan still grunted and pushed empty air as he made sure he was really empty.

Once he was sure, he told Charles to clean him. Charles obeyed the seemingly mild order after the deluge of horrors he had passed through recently, licking the other man’s ass as clean as he could.

Tristan then finally stood up and pulled up his pants. He looked down at the wrecked image of Charles, red and teary face and tongue stained brown and said “You can take a break, the day is almost over anyway. Go clean yourself, and I expect you tomorrow at my office at 8:00 A.M sharp”.

Before leaving the room he said. 

“Don’t eat breakfast, I’ll eat an extra portion for you”. He had enjoyed that more than he thought he would.

[hornyraunchstories]

Office Toilet ( Heavy Scat )

A story loosely set on the Wasteless universe of @writinggross. Where Human toilets are commonly accepted. This is supposed to be set a little early on, when they were more a privilege.

In this world, the competition for a decent Job that could keep you afloat and away from falling in debt was even more harsh than on earth. This led to many employees to accept otherwise crazy conditions in their jobs.

There was a certain Elite X Company who installed a system to encourage their salesmen to put in the extra effort in their job.

The company paid a base salary plus the percentage every salesman earned with their own efforts. An unbelievably favorable deal for anyone in this world and age. However, in order to guarantee their utmost performance the “Sales Rewards and Service Program”.

The sales reward program rewarded the best sellers with benefits, bonuses and other privileges while also “encouraging” those that fell behind. 

This encouragement came in various ways depending on how you ranked, but the most notable one was the ‘Service Learning Program’ where the lowest sellers were temporarily given as assistants to the best ones as an additional reward for their performance. The serving seller then would use the opportunity to learn from his better, and thus be encouraged to do better.

But while they’re said to be assistants, the truth is these were more like punishments and treated almost as common servants or slaves, and were often asked by their colleagues to do humiliating tasks such as massaging their feet or serving as footstalls. They were even sometimes asked to serve as fart filters or urinals, depending on who they were assigned to.

However, only the worst seller actually had to be an actual Toilet Slave for the best seller.

The unlucky loser this time had been Charles, while the winner was a transfer from another branch of the company, Tristan.

…

He had just gotten to the company when Tristan called him. “The Boss said you’re gonna be shadowing me from now on, he also said that until the week is over you’re in charge of all my eh… ‘Hygienic necessities and comfort’, which ‘includes but is not limited to all of the users emissions’ ” He read from a document in his hand.

“It also says that I shouldn’t use the company’s installations since you’re my assigned ‘Waste Management Utility’ ” He huffed. “So, I guess you’re gonna be my Toilet and Fart Sniffer for the rest of week and I wanted us to get acquainted before that happens, but I’m really about to piss myself y’know? Mind if I take a leak real quick?” Charlie very much did mind, but he resignedly let Jonas lead him into the Toilets and made him knelt next to the urinals.

Charles’ stomach twisted as he knelt on the cold tile floor next to the urinals, the humiliation already burning his skin. Jhonnas stood towering over him, his dick and balls centimeters from his face as he felt the heat and smell radiating from them.

"Please," Charles whispered, voice cracking. "There’s gotta be another way”

"You signed the contract, Just like the rest of us, it’s as much my duty to use you as is your duty to be used by me, and I like this job." He tapped Charles' cheek with the tip of his flaccid dick.

Charles knelt, lips trembling and gut twisting in dread and anticipation. He knew there was no escape unless he resigned. But then, his career would be over. Even if he could somehow find another job, it wouldn’t be as well paid as this one, and it’d probably had similarly bad conditions.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant.

Tristan sighed, seemingly irked by the situation.

“Look man, you lost and now you're under my ass for a week, just cooperate and this will go over much more smoothly”. He said. "Now please open up. I’ve been holding it since the morning meeting when the boss told me you’d be my toilet, and I couldn’t use the urinals." 

The groan that escaped Charles was raw, guttural. His hands clenched uselessly at his sides as he tilted his head back, mouth forced wide. The first hot, sour stream hit his tongue before he was ready, making him gag, urine dripping down his chin. He could feel it. 

“Damn” he heard someone at the next urinal say. Tristan sighed above him, shifting his stance.

"Don’t let it drip man, you’re going to smell and you’re staining the floor. Plus I don’t want my shoes to smell like urine. Here, I’ll help you" He took a step in and his cock was now fully in his mouth. 

“Close your lips around it so it doesn’t drip out, just think about it like a straw or something” He heard.

Of course, it was easy for him to say that, he didn’t have a dick peeing in his mouth. Still, Charles obeyed, and the bitter salt flooding his senses was overwhelming as his cheeks swelled with the taste of urine and he forgot to swallow, some of the yellow liquid streaming down his chin. 

He could now feel Tristan’s slight irritation, so with great effort he managed to push the warm liquid down his throat in a few big gulps. 

“You see? It wasn’t that bad” Tristan said, as he shook his dick in front of his face to get rid of the drops clinging to him. It seemed to be a reflex to him, as he barely even looked down at him. It had been. It had been that bad. And the worst part? This was just the start.

Charles’ mouth still burned with the acrid aftertaste as Tristan zipped up, leaving him kneeling in the rank puddle of his own shame. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting the tiled bathroom in a sterile glare that only made the humiliation sharper. The sharp scent of ammonia clung to his lips, his tongue swollen and heavy.

…

Now in Tristan’s office, Charles knelt beside his chair, the lingering bitterness in his mouth nothing compared to what came next. 

Tristan originally had planned leaving Charles knee by the side of his chair, but then he remembered one of his colleagues that had used a Toilet Slave once said to him that when prepping one for his first use, he should first get his acquainted with his ass, weight and his emissions and that he should first use him as a chair beforehand. He planned to get Charles used to it today and maybe tomorrow before using him as a shitter for the first time, as he would need to do so at least once according to the contract.

Tristan had never had the privilege of breaking in a Toilet, so he decided to follow his friend’s advice. He felt a little uncomfortable being bare-assed in the office though. Even if it was technically a private one, he still had crystal walls so he decided not to take off his pants.

"I’m going to be sitting on you during my shift, like a chair, being a fart filter is one of the jobs underlined and it’s better to follow through so the boss doesn’t get mad anyway" Tristan said stiffly–It was partly true, the fart thing, not the chair thing though— lifting his hips and leaning back in his chair. Before Charles could react, a meaty hand clamped around the back of his neck, dragging him forward until his nose pressed against the straining fabric of Jhonnas’ slacks.

The musky heat of his ass radiated through the material, already thick with the promise of what was coming. Tristan didn’t bother unbuttoning his pants—just shifted his weight and sat, his full weight grinding Charles’ face into his clothed cheeks.

"Get acquainted I guess" he murmured, just as his phone rang. The first fart tore through the fabric hot and thick, flooding Charles’ nostrils with the dense, fermented stink of eggs, coffee and rotten meat. He jerked, but Tristan held him firm, his ass heavy enough to smother any escape. 

"Mm, yeah, I can pencil you in Thursday," Tristan said into the phone, voice smooth even as his ass clenched, forcing out another gurgling burst directly into Charles’ mouth and nose. He groaned, and Tristan put more of his weight like trying to silence him.

“Hold a second” He said to the phone and put a hand over the microphone, lifting his ass a little to see the man under “Hey Charles, could you be more quiet down there, I don’t want the clients noticing you please? ”

“You try doing it man” Charles said spitefully. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Tristan rolled his eyes, he was still a little sympathetic as he turned back to his call.

The taste seeped past his lips—sour, greasy and heavy— and his throat convulsed. By the third barrage, Charles’ eyes glistened with tears, his breathing reduced to shallow, panicked gasps between each humid wave of Tristan’s digestion.

The man above him chuckled, unbeknownst if it was because of something in the call or because he was enjoying himself. When the call ended, Tristan finally stood up, leaving Charles swaying on his knees, his face slick with sweat and the lingering reek of gut fumes.

"Lunchtime," Tristan announced, standing up and stretching. "Don’t eat anything. The instructions said you should limit yourself to ‘consuming only what the user provides during office hours’ and about you not being allowed to use the cafeteria facilities" He paused, looking down at Charles’ ashen face.

…

Tristan ate carelessly and plentifully, seemingly not caring about the fate of his now Toilet. He could hold it until he got home, probably. Either way, he was entitled to a bigger and nicer bonus thanks to his achievements and he planned on taking advantage of it.

There was nothing refined about the way Tristan worked through his meal, carving through the thick meat in relentless bites.  

Charles watched, jaw tight, as butter dripped from a smashed-open baked potato onto Tristan’s plate, only to be scooped up and folded into the next forkful along with some meat. Coke fizzed as he took deep, satisfied gulps between mouthfuls, his free hand already reaching for another buttered roll.  

"Damn, that’s good," Tristan muttered, wiping his mouth with his napkin before diving back in. His stomach rounded slightly under his shirt, fabric straining just enough to hint at the pressure building inside. 

By the time the plate was clean with steak fat smeared across it, crumbs of bread and flecks of potato clinging to the edges. Tristan leaned back with a low groan. 

He patted his stomach, fingers pressing into swollen belly. "Fuck, I’m bursting,"

Charles' knuckles went white under the table. 

Before going back to the office, Tristan took Charles to the bathroom to take a leak again. Charles was admittedly relieved, as he thought maybe he would escape his fate for one day. Maybe Tristan’s gut schedule meant he didn’t shit in the office. Maybe he would only be an urinal, and that was okay by him at this point.

Then in the office, Tristan worked some more. Of course, sitting on Charles face as he typed in his computer and occasionally talked to some clients. Progressively though, the farts came more often, stealing Charles of the few fresh air and replacing it with hot bursts of sewage like fumes as the food Tristan just ingested traveled through his digestive system.

At least, until the dread time came, and shattered his hopes.

*Schlrrrppp!* A particularly wet and nasty fart made Charles choke as Tristan suddenly stood up from his chair.

“Hey man, I really gotta use the Toilet now”

“You mean, like, you have to pee?” Charles asked hopefully, already dreading the answer.

“No man, like, I really gotta take a shit now” Tristan said plainly “Come on man, I really cannot wait any more,” he said more urgently as he strutted towards the private toilet in his office.

Reluctantly Charles followed him to the Toilet room. Where Tristan was already waiting.

"Come on, I’m really bursting and cannot wait more" he grunted. “Lie down already”.

Charles did so with great reluctance, lying down on the cold floor as his face aligned with the squat toilet on the bathroom floor.

Tristan unbuttoned his slack and undo his belt, and the sound was nearly drowned out by the thick, bubbling growl of his gut.  

"Here we go," Tristan sighed, squatting and easing himself down as he pushed his pants down and placed his weight on Charles face, trying to align his asshole with his mouth as he did so.

Charles opened his mouth, and soon he had a pulsing hairy asshole comfortably between his lips.

*Pbtbtbtbtb!*

The first blast was rancid and hot of half-digested steak and garlic, a hot, gassy punch that flooded Charles’ mouth before he could even gag. He choked, shoulders jerking, but Tristan just braced his hands on his knees and pushed, letting loose a shuddering stream of thick, sour air.  

"ahhh" Tristan sighed, shifting his weight to squeeze out another wet, gurgling sputter.  

Charles’ eyes watered, his throat burning with bile and humiliation, but Tristan wasn’t done.

Tristan shifted, letting his slacks sag further down his hips—not for humiliation, not for cruelty, but because he was comfortable. Why shouldn’t he be? This was just a function, natural as breathing. He had been feeling a little guilty up until now, of having to use his coworker as a mere toilet, but at this critical moment where he needed relief he finally had come to terms with it.

Charles was a human being, yes. But right now, he was only his toilet, and he really needed to take a shit. So he would have to treat him like a toilet.

So, with great effort, Tristan grunted as he dumped the contents of his bowels on Charles’s own hot wet orifice. A big solid log sliding out of his arse and into Carles mouth.

He felt Charles buckle under him, retching and moving, but he pinned him down with his weight and held his legs from moving. The effort made Tristan’s gut loosen, and he really wanted to release another load, but he held to not choke Tristan. 

He had researched the internet while in his office, and people said that he needed to wait until the Toilet finished chewing before letting another load. But he was impatient. Especially after feeling Charles stilling under him, frozen as if Tristan wasn’t in a rush to continue.

“You have to chew, chew man. Or I guess chew Toilet Charles, otherwise you’ll feel sick of the stomach later. If you cannot chew it down in the next three minutes tops, I’ll continue and I swear I won’t stop just because you’re having another one of your freakouts” Tristan said, urged and irritated. “I swear I’ll push it down straight into your throat and stomach and not stop until I feel relieved” He said, and put a chronometer on his phone.

“Lick my arse when you are ready for the next mouthful”. He said, and let himself be more comfortable by resting more of his weight on his Toilet’s face-seat. Crushing Chalres painfully under his weight. Not like he cared anymore, the man was not cooperating, so he could be treated like a toilet.

Meanwhile, Charles had received a shock. The taste of Tristan’s shit was undescribable, pungent and acrid. Like garlic and onion and fat and rotten meat. It was warm like the man’s own guts, and it felt like a mockery of the food he had eaten. It overwhelmed Charles' senses, as his own body rejected the waste coming out of the other man’s body.

It didn’t care about the logic of his mind, or keeping his job, it was just so awful and degrading it triggered his own survival instincts.

He struggled with no purchase, and finally calmed when his body realized there was no escape.

It was then that Tristan lost his patience, and made his threat. Still struggling, Charles chewed through the monstrous log, releasing even more of the pungent taste and aroma until it felt as if it escaped through his nostrils as he swallowed bit by bit.

When he finally finished, and signaled Tristan by lapping at his ass and touching his cheeks.

“Fucking finally” He said and let his entrails loose.

The next mouthful was not easier than the first, and his body still retched trying to throw up, but he swallowed it with all his will. If there was a small mercy, it was that it wasn’t an as generous as the first had been. But the large man was still far from empty.

He did the same with the next dump, establishing into a routine, trying to disassociate. He felt Tristan push, his hole trembled and farted and let loose a fart or two as he pushed his waste onto Charles mouth, he chewed holding down his own retching instincts and swallowed down. Then, he lapped at

By the end Charles was shocked as a more liquid shit spayed with pressure into his mouth, little bits clinging everywhere as the intestinal acids of the Tristan burned his mouth, filling it to the brim with a hellish soup. At the very least, they were easier to swallow, and he swallowed two more before Tristan finally stopped.

Tristan hadn't paid him more attention after his initial outburst, and was staring at his phone. Charles felt he had finished though, but Tristan still grunted and pushed empty air as he made sure he was really empty.

Once he was sure, he told Charles to clean him. Charles obeyed the seemingly mild order after the deluge of horrors he had passed through recently, licking the other man’s ass as clean as he could.

Tristan then finally stood up and pulled up his pants. He looked down at the wrecked image of Charles, red and teary face and tongue stained brown and said “You can take a break, the day is almost over anyway. Go clean yourself, and I expect you tomorrow at my office at 8:00 A.M sharp”.

Before leaving the room he said. 

“Don’t eat breakfast, I’ll eat an extra portion for you”. He had enjoyed that more than he thought he would.

[prince-of-memphis]

Unexpected😍😍😍😍😍😍😜😜😜😛

[t0iletd0g]

You're sitting on my face, a normal routine for us. You'd watch TV, call your friends, jerk off, whatever.

And I'd be your cushion.

Sometimes you'd have my nose up your hole, on days when your stomach was acting up and you didn't want to smell it. Today, it was my tongue. You had come home after errands and wanted someone to eat your ass, and, well, you had a cushion that could do that.

You kept letting out nasty farts down my throat. Each worse than the last, to the point where I could taste them. At some point, I pull away to complain, to which you slam your ass back down on my face, forcing my head back to the ground.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask, obviously not expecting a response. A few minutes pass, where a particularly wet fart makes you speak up again.

"Damn, that was nasty... might need the toilet soon."

I whimper, but you don't move. A few more minutes pass, before I realize that all of those farts sound that... dangerous. You seemed to notice too.

"Oh, God, I really have to go, I can barely hold it now, mutt. I don't know how you're holding up through it."

I'm not, but at least you're about to get up. Or so I thought. You don't budge, but your discomfort is showing as you shift above me. I don't understand. Why aren't you budging? Then it hits me. You're not going anywhere.

"I can't hold it anymore, mutt.." is all the warning I get as I feel something solid against my tongue, the log forcing it's way down my throat. It felt never ending, and I tried to pull away, but your hand had grabbed my hair and held me to your ass.

It kept coming, and by the time it was over, and you were standing, I was so... spent.

A hot stream of liquid hit my face, and I realized you were pissing on me, mostly in my mouth.

"Wow, you look like.. shit." The smugness in your voice was all too clear. "Too bad I never wiped, huh?"

I have no time to question before you're sitting back down on me, and I realize that this is just the beginning of a long night.

[fartlovingblkguy69]

[gayguygas]

Smell of a false accusation

With me being 25 and bi, I quickly noticed my next-door neighbors after moving into my new apartment. First, there is the curvy, beautiful woman with nice tits. Then there’s the six-foot-four guy who looks like he bench presses city buses. The most noticeable thing about him is his fat bubble butt. It’s like he’s always carrying around two basketballs in the back of his pants wherever he goes. They bounce and jiggle as he walks.

The guy’s name is Randy, and the woman’s name is Sarah. Both of them are hot. 

It's obvious to me now that they are a couple, but an hour ago, Sarah easily convinced me that they were only siblings. 

Sarah and I are now naked in her bed, and feeling good after doing the deed. She’s resting her head on my chest, and I have an arm wrapped around her.

We’re enjoying the quiet moment when suddenly, the bedroom door is kicked open. Randy is standing in the doorway, huffing in rage like a bull ready to charge. He’s wearing a dirty tank top, jeans, and brown steel-toe boots. 

If looks could kill, Sarah and I would be six feet under right now.

I open my mouth, hoping to de-escalate the situation, but Sarah acts first.

She jumps out of the bed, screaming bloody murder, leaving me alone on the bed in only my boxers. She’s shaking and crying.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Randy! I just realized he’s been gaslighting me. He manipulated me into sleeping with him. I’m the victim!” 

I’m shocked into silence. That’s the dumbest defense for cheating that I’ve ever heard.

I guess Randy must be dumb as hell because he’s staring daggers at me.

Sarah runs out of the room, with fake tears streaming down her face, leaving me alone with a pissed off monster. 

“You done fucked with the wrong woman, bitch” he growls. His gravely voice has me going pale. 

I can’t speak; I never thought I’d be in a situation like this. I guess he’s taking my silence as an admission of guilt.

He pulls off his sweaty tank and tosses it to the side. He kicks off his boots before he starts walking towards me, still on the bed. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he undoes his jeans, letting them drop and pool at his feet. He’s wearing a tight pair of grey boxer briefs that are drenched with sweat.  

He climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body. The rage in his eyes has me paralyzed and unable to speak.

“You’re about to smell why the boys call me Rancid Randy.” 

Next thing I know, he turns around and his fat ass is hovering right over my face. The sweaty fabric of his underwear is clinging to his round, meaty globes.

The last thing I see before everything goes dark is the large sweat patch running down the crack of his ass.

WHAM

He drops his bulbous, sweaty rump, taking a seat on my face. My face is being smothered under an over-encumbering amount of ass fat.

The musky smell coming from his swamp ass is tear-inducing. 

I groan from the scent. 

I both feel and hear him darkly snickering above me. “Oh, you wanna cry? Rancid Randy will give you something to cry about.”

At first, I don’t know what he’s going on about, until:

RRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT

The guy rips a thunderous, 5-second fart, point-blank in my face. It’s strong enough to rattle my skull. 

Rancid Randy is a fitting name–his fart stinks of rancid meat and rotten eggs. The smell is atrocious. It has me coughing and gagging. 

“Ah, damn, that felt good. I’m glad I had Mexican for lunch with extra beans. Doubt you agree… GGH”

MMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFF

He vents out another rancid-smelling fart in my face, and that’s when I try to struggle.

I try to buck him off me, but he shimmies his hips, bearing his ass down harder onto my face. I bring up my hands trying to push him off, but it does little more than massage his doughy globes.

“Haha, that’s it, keep on uselessly struggling. All it will earn you is more of my Rancid Rockets… HGH”

MMMMMBBBBBAAAAAAPPPPPPP

My voice is muffled beneath his meaty posterior, but I get out, “You got it all wrong, man. Your girlfriend came up to me and said she was single and you were her brother.” It’s hard to speak when every time I part my lips, his ass fat tries to pour into my open mouth. 

My explanation only angers him.

“What? You're calling my girl a liar? Suck on this, fart-bitch!”

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVTTTTTTTTT

FFFFFFFLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP

DDDDDDOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAABBBBBBB

Randy pushes out three consecutive farts that wreck me. He aggressively grinds his butt on my face, as if he’s trying to ingrain his ass musk into my pores. 

Out of desperation, I punch him in the side of his stomach, but all that does is help him dislodge a big fart.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTT

He rips a 12-second fart right in my face that reeks of raw sewage. It has me coughing and my eyes stinging.

He sighs and laughs, “Ah, haha, don’t blame me for that one. That was all you, unlike this… FGH”

VVVVVVVVBBBBBBBLLLLLLPPPPPPP

Another wave of his nauseating fumes washes over my face. It puts me in a coughing fit, weakening me. Randy uses the opportunity to trap my arms by my sides, between his knees, as he straddles my chest. 

I now feel completely helpless.

“Ah, you’ll be lucky if I let you leave here alive and don’t kill you with my farts after what you did to my girl!”

He grounds his titanic rear end harder down on me, working my face in between his cheeks. Through the material of his sweaty briefs, I feel my nose pressing against his hole.

It’s silent, but I feel his pucker open and his warm, intestinal wind heating my nose.

The smell is horrendous–like rancid meat swimming in raw sewage.

“Haha, ah yeah, breathe it in bitch, breathe in Rancid Randy. Every time you even think of my girl, you’re gonna remember my rank ass and my butt bombs.”

I ironically find my second wind and flail harder beneath him. This seems to amuse Randy.

“Oh, still struggling, I see. Seems like Rancid Randy’s gonna have to break you like a wild bronco. Thankfully, I have the ass and farts for the job.”

I think it’s over when he rises off my face. But soon enough, his big ass comes crashing back down on my face like a meteor, making me groan. And the impact is accompanied by…

RRRRRRRRPPPPPPPMMMMMMMDDDDDDD

He isn’t done.

He lifts his ass off my face.

“Yeah, take it bitch.”

He slams his ass back down and…

VVVVVVVLLLLLLLLOOOOOPPPPPPPPP

My tormentor repeats this torturous cycle. 

Up.

“This ain’t my first rodeo. Rancid Randy has broken down plenty of assholes, and you won’t be the last.”

Wham

RRRRRRHHHHHHHBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT

Up.

“Choke on my nasty farts.”

Wham

PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWFFFFFFF

Up.

“Get crushed by my big, heavy booty.”

Wham

MMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPP

Up.

“Anyone who messes with my girl has to deal with my swamp ass. Now Suffer!”

Wham

BBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU-FFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The noxious smell has my eyes and nose running. Randy’s repeated butt-drops have my face feeling like it’s been Mike Tyson’s personal punching bag.

I aggressively thrash my head from side to side, trying to get my face out of his ass. I turn my head to the left, finally escaping, getting a few breaths of cool, semi-fresh air.

I take the opportunity to shout, “Get off of me, you psycho!”

I didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow became even more agitated. 

“Psycho! Psycho! You fucked with my girl’s head, and you’re calling me a psycho.”

He lifts his ass off my face again. And then to my horror, he peels down the back of his briefs. His fleshy, bare moons, glistening with sweat, pour out of their confines and wobble ominously above my face.

“You’ve done it now. Now I’m really ticked off!”

Randy reaches down with both hands, spreading his cheeks. I’ve never seen anything more revolting. Hovering a foot over my face is his open crack. Inside is all sweaty and hairy, and dead center is his wrinkled pucker.

I start shaking my head. “No. No. You can’t do this to me. Help!” 

He immediately shuts me up by dropping down, entombing my face in his sweaty and musky canyon of a crack. 

The douche bag laughs, making his meaty orbs jiggle around my clamped face. “Don’t waste your breath; no one can hear you. No one can ever hear you in between Rancid Randy’s fat moons.”

PPPPPPWWWWWFFFFFFFFFDDDDDDDDD

MMMMMMLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP

RRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDFFFFFFF

He unleashes a barrage of trumpeting farts, point-blank in my face, putting me into another coughing fit. His ass and booming farts drown out my cries for help.

I try to struggle, but I can barely move my head anymore. There’s more than just fat in his brawny slabs. It feels like my head is caught in the jaws of life.

He rocks his ass on my face, getting comfortable. I give a muffled cry when it ends with my lips pressed against his asshole. 

“You wanna kiss someone? Then kiss this big, nasty fella; he loves the attention.” 

RRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBB

He pushes out a 6-second rumbly fart that has my lips vibrating. Some of his toxic fumes seep into my mouth, making me feel sick to my stomach.

He presses down harder and roughly gyrates his ass on my face, forcing my lips open with his hole.

“Hehe, oh yeah fart-bitch, things are about to get a lot worse for you. Eat my farts!... NGH”

BBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVVWWWWWWWDDDDDD

FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMM

My cheeks and lungs inflate with his hellish ass gas. I’m choking and gagging on his noxious, intestinal vapors.

“Fuck man, how are those extra beans I had for lunch treating ya? Do you like it? Recycled through my booty?... GGH”

MMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR

PPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDD

“Ah, good luck fucker, your face is going to be reeking of Rancid Randy’s swamp ass for weeks. You’re probably gonna have to wash your face thoroughly and daily for a month to get rid of my butt stank. You’re welcome… HGGH” 

DDDDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP-AAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBB

“Oh damn, I feel a big one brewing. I almost feel guilty about blasting your face with this, the keyword being, almost. R.I.P. your taste buds. 

FGH… This puppy comes straight from Rancid Randy’s butthole with love… UGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Who farts so much? It feels like it's been days, but it's only been a couple of minutes. This beast keeps rocketing one monstrous fart after another down my gullet. The final one is the longest, lasting well over 4 minutes alone. 

My lungs feel like they will be forever tainted with his vile butt stink. 

He rises off my face with a wet squelch. My face is drenched with his ass sweat, my tears, and my snot.

Next thing I know, I’m being pulled off the bed and onto my feet. He shoves my strewn-around clothes into my hands. He then grabs me by the back of the neck and practically drags me towards the front door.

He opens the door and tosses me out, on my knees. He towers over me, pointing an accusing finger at my face. “Let this be a warning: if you so much as eye my girl a little too long for my liking, you and my swampy ass are gonna spend a lot more personal time together.”

Randy wheels around. The back of his briefs is still pulled down, so he’s basically mooning me. His bare, sweaty cheeks are only a few feet away from my face.

I notice his hands curling at his sides, and I hear him taking a deep breath. 

BBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPP

Randy blasts me in the face with a 10-second-long, airy fart. It stinks of digested meat and garlic. And it has enough force to cause his pillowy mounds to ripple and blow my hair back. 

I’m left coughing on my knees as he slams the door in my face. Thankfully, the hallway is empty, so no one sees me at my lowest point.

I stand and hobble to my door. I pull my key out of my jeans and retreat inside my apartment. 

Things don’t end here, though. For the next few days, the couple fucks with me. 

Whenever I pass Sarah alone in the hall, she shoots me a superior smirk, silently declaring she’s won. When I pass Randy, he glares at me, and without stopping, he swivels his hips and farts on me. 

What the two don’t know is that I’m an investigative journalist. It was child's play to find Sarah’s multiple cheating partners over social media and take screenshots of them kissing.

I created a burner account and sent the pics to them and their mutual friends. Sarah’s now seen as a slut, and Randy is seen as a simp. 

I sit back and enjoy the fireworks. 

Every day, I hear them constantly screaming at each other through the walls, and I love it.

However, I’ve been dealing with a slight dilemma. In my head, I keep replaying Randy’s assault on me; the humiliation, his bare ass, and his farts. Every time I do, I feel a stirring in my crotch.

Maybe if I ignore it, it won’t mean anything. 

Things come to a head two weeks later. I’m coming home from work and find the couple arguing outside their apartment. Randy is standing in the doorway of their apartment, and Sarah’s standing in the hallway. A box of stuff is separating the two.

“Are you seriously kicking me out for a few hook-ups? You’re so insecure.” Sarah cries.

“We’re done, leave.” Randy barks in return, but then a cruel smirk forms on his lips.

“But before you go, take this with ya.”

Randy turns around and squats, bringing his ass down just above the opening of the box filled with most likely Sarah’s things.

RRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFF

Randy drops a 6-second wet fart into the box.

Sarah looks disgusted, “You can keep this cheap junk you bought for me. My friends were right: you were never good enough for me.” She turns on her heels and storms off.

“I’ll send my brother to collect my clothes and the TV, since I bought it, I can’t stomach seeing you anymore.” She snarks over her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, he'd better take only what’s yours or he’ll be Rancid Randy’s next fart-bitch.” He calls out to her. To punctuate his threat, Randy hikes his right leg and farts.

FFFFFFFHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

Sarah rolls her eyes.

As Sarah walks past me, she gives me a suspicious side glance. Did they know it was me?

My question is answered when Randy notices me. 

“You!” Randy stomps up to me, his anger nearly palpable. “I don’t know how, but I know you’re responsible for all this. You’re a dead man!”

I whip out my phone and start recording. “Mind repeating that, friend. I’d also love to record you physically attacking me.”

My words have Randy coming to an immediate halt right in front of me. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are alight with fury. He knows he can’t act.

He turns around, but instead of walking away, he leans forward, jutting out his twin moons that are barely being contained by his jeans.

RRRRRRRWWWWWWWUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP

He envelopes me in an eggy fart cloud.

He mutters, “Fart-bitch,” before walking back into his apartment.

Joke's on him, I’ll be jerking off to this recording for a while.

I guess when it comes to men, I’m into big, brawny, sweaty guys who fart a lot and are assholes. 

At this point, I thought the chapter of my life involving Sarah and Randy was over. But I was wrong, at least with Randy.

A few weeks later, on a Saturday morning, I’m awoken by heavy knocking on my door. It’s like six in the morning. 

With me being half-asleep, I made the mistake of unlocking the door before looking through the peephole. 

As soon as I start opening the door, it is kicked open, making me stumble back. Randy walks in like he owns the place. He shuts the door behind him, trapping me with him in my apartment. 

The guy’s wearing a black tank top and black basketball shorts, and he’s practically dripping with sweat. I'm pretty sure he just had a grueling workout and came straight here. What the fuck?

He flashes me a devilish, toothy grin as he lets his shorts drop, revealing that he’s wearing a sweaty, dingy, used-to-be white jockstrap.

Before my still-waking-up mind can process anything, Randy charges at me and tackles me to the carpeted ground of my sparse living room.

We wrestle on the floor, well, more like he manhandles me with ease. I’m five-foot-ten and weigh only 150 pounds. 

I wind up trapped between his powerful quads in a reverse headscissors. His mountainous, sweaty, and bare cheeks are only inches away from my face. The musk emitting from his crack is eye-burning.

“Surprise, fart-bitch, I work out early every morning, and it’s my neighborly duty to share my hard work and dedication with you.”

Randy reaches back and grips the back of my head. I try to resist, but he easily overpowers me, shoving my face against his sweaty, fuzzy crack.

PPPPPPPLLLLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTT

He unleashes a raunchy eruption, point-blank in my face. Along with his venting fumes, my face is sprayed with beads of ass sweat.

He starts rolling his hips, wiping his grimy crack from side to side, and up and down, all over my face as he farts non-stop. 

“You thought you’d make Rancid Randy look like a fool and get away scot free.” FART “Naw, buddy,” FART “You gotta pay the price,” FART “When I’m done with you, the scent of my big musky ass will be a permanent addition to your face.”

FFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTT

He rips a torrent of butt rockets in my face that stinks of rancid meat and broccoli, making me cough–though it’s muffled with me being smothered by his bubbly orbs.

I shouldn’t, but I’m becoming aroused.

Still gripping the back of my head, he pulls my face away from his ass. I look up over his fleshy hillsides, which he calls butt cheeks, meeting his steely grey eyes. 

“Tongue my hole. Now!” He growls through clenched teeth. 

Things go dark again as I’m roughly shoved in between his boulder-sized cheeks.

My brain short-circuits as I feel my lips press against the fleshy, puckered, balloon-knot. This guy–who has anger issues and who I thought was straight–wants me, a man, to eat him out?

My mental conundrum is ended by Randy flexing his meaty thighs around my head and putting on the pressure.

“That wasn’t a request. Now get to tonguing,” he practically snarls.

Rational thinking takes a backseat to self-preservation. I extend my tongue and start licking his sweaty, wrinkly hole. I circle it with the tip of my tongue, tasting him, and I love it. It tastes salty, a bit spicy, and undeniably masculine.

His quads, wrapped around my head, relax a bit–his grip on the back of my head remains firm, holding my face in place–and I feel his big body shudder, and he lets out a quiet, pleasure-filled moan. 

I flatten my tongue, licking broad strips against the pucker, wanting him to relax so it will open for me. 

Randy’s completely here for it. “Fuck yeah, fart-bitch, taste me, inside and out. GGH… Emphasis on inside… NGH”

I feel his asshole lips open and push outward.

MMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRVVVVVVPPPPPPP

He pushes out a 5-second fart that warms the surface of my tongue and rockets down my throat.

I break, I’m no longer doing this out of fear, I’m doing this out of sexual desire.

I start tonguing his hole with more enthusiasm. I dig the tip of my tongue in the knotted button of tissue and start wriggling it open slowly and pleasurably.

Randy gives a deep, wild moan. “That’s it, you nasty fart-bitch, eat my shit-chute. I’m a real man. I deserve this.”

He releases me from his headscissors. While keeping my face buried in his ass, he rolls us over with me lying on my back and him sitting on my face. It’s like what he did a few weeks ago, but gone is the hostility and rage. Both of us are swept up in primal lust. 

I start probing my tongue deeper and deeper into him. I can tell he’s enjoying this by the sounds he is making.

He tastes so good; so masculine and addictive. 

“Fucking right, fart-bitch, eat me! Eat all that I give you… HGH” 

PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWDDDDDDDDD

“Mmm, bet that had a kick to it. That was the spicy burrito I had before I hit the gym. Oh, hold on, FGH… here comes the chocolate protein shake I chugged it down with… RGH”

FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU-MMMMMMMMTTTTTTTT

His nauseating butt wind inflates my cheeks and lungs like party balloons.

While still tonguing him, I grunt when I feel Randy flick the tent popping from the crotch of my shorts.

“Well, well, well, looks like you really are a fart-bitch. Keep tonguing my fart-spewing hole and I’ll keep gassing you, that’s a promise. Heh, Rancid Randy’s fart tank is never empty.”

I start pistoning my tongue into him deeper and with more fervor. 

Randy’s practically roaring and snarling like a wild animal.

He’s rocking his hips, undulating his fat, blubbery rump seated on my face.

“Fuck, you definitely want my farts, you desperate fart-bitch.” PPPBBBTTT “Fine! Take it! Take it all!” RRRWWWDDD “I'm gonna fucking drown you with my farts!”

FFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVV

While enduring Randy’s endless, flatulent rampage, I feel him rocking back and forth. I also hear a faint and repetitive, wet slapping sound. It’s not difficult for me to figure out what he’s doing.

The fact that this sweaty, massive man is sitting and farting on my face while getting himself off has me throbbing in my shorts.

“Hang on, fart-bitch, here comes my post-workout, morning butt-thunder; right on time. It always smells god-awful and is a real doozy. See you on the other side. Ohh… Ohhh… UGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDDDD

3 minutes of toxic ass thunder explodes out of his hole, blasting my tongue and into my open mouth. His fumes taste bitter and stink of rancid eggs and onions. 

As his fart continues, my tongue sensually slithers and dances inside Randy’s warm and velvety internal canal.

“Mhmmmmm!” My shout is muffled thanks to my face being submerged between his ample mounds. 

Without touching myself, I shoot in my sleeping shorts.

Randy follows suit. I hear him growling as he thrusts into his grip while remaining seated on my face.

My shirt rode up to my chest during this intense ordeal. I feel several volleys of his essence hitting and warming my stomach.

At last, Randy rises. He pauses when his ass is hovering a few inches above my face and lets off a few purposeful poots in my face.

Pbbt, Rrvp, Fwdd 

I’m caught between coughing and gagging. My entire apartment is filled with Randy’s raunchy ass musk. I doubt the smell will ever go away, and I’m not mad.

After cooling down, I sit up and watch Randy hesitantly, worried he might break into a straight crisis rage.

But Randy seems calm as he walks over to his discarded shorts and steps into them.

With his back towards me, he says, “The way I see things, you’re the reason I’ve been suffering from a serious case of blueballs for the last several weeks. Sarah may have been a lying bitch, but she knew how to suck me off. You caused this mess, and you’re gonna fix it.”

Randy comes to a complete stop when the waistband of his shorts is just below his protruding ass slabs. He looks back at me, over his shoulder. I’m surprised to see desire and interest in his expression. 

He gives a nod like he’s figured it all out. “Yeah, so since you're the one responsible for getting me into this mess, you’re gonna be my solution for the foreseeable future. Around this time, every day, excluding Sundays, I’ll stop by after I work out at the gym, and you’ll eat my fat, sweaty ass and farts.”

His brow furrows in irritation. “And you better let me in when I come. Don’t think I won’t break down your door.”

This has gone from like 0 to 100. 

“This is my apartment, and I’m my own person. Don’t I get a say in the matter?” I point out.

He shoots me a threatening, impish smirk. “Deal with it, this is how things are gonna go down. If you got a problem, take it up with the big guy.” Randy says before tossing a thumb over his shoulder. He then arches his back, making his meaty orbs stick out even further.

MMMMMMMFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVPPPPPPPP

Randy rips a 5-second, quack-sounding fart, refreshing the room with his rancid-egg butt scent. 

I must’ve given something away because Randy looks so cocky now.

“If you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or some sort of friends-with-benefits situation going on, you'd better bring it to a hard end now. You’ve learned all too well that Rancid Randy doesn’t share what’s his.” Want and possessiveness are gleaming in his eyes, which has my breath catching. 

While I’m still sitting on the floor, Randy takes several steps back, bringing his bare, fat ass right in my face. I’m immediately met with an eggy- 

PPPPBBBBRRRRTTTT

 He then starts slowly and sensually swaying his hips from side to side, making his basketball-sized globes wobble and jiggle from left to right. He blasts my face with a string of poots as he continues to shake his butt in my face.

Ppft, Rhhv, Mtbb

“You don’t want to feel guilty about my swampy ass claiming another victim because of you? Do you, fart-bitch?” He murmurs, looking down at me over his shoulder, that possessive gleam still alight in his eyes.

It sounds like he’s teasing, but we both know he’d do it. I was his swampy ass’ victim a few weeks ago.

My mouth feels dry. I shake my head for no.

Randy’s lips stretch into a sharkish, victorious grin, like he’s the cat who swallowed the canary, while continuing to roll his hips and poot in my face. 

Fffp, Bbrp, Vvud

How do I even label this? Fart-master and slave? Fart-dom and sub? Or maybe it’s simply Rancid Randy and his fart-bitch? Whatever the title, there’s no hiding Randy’s possessive words and expressions. Could this be the starting foundation of something more meaningful in the future? Or maybe this is just about convenience until he finds a new girl. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that Randy is an unstable and dangerous wildcard, so anything is possible.

Randy stops rocking his hips, bringing his bubbly rump to a complete stop, right in my face.

He bends forward, extending all that backside even closer to my face. He reaches back with both hands and spreads his cheeks, exposing the insides of his sweaty and hairy cheeks and his musky hole.

“Kiss it goodbye for now. It’s looking forward to feeding you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I lean forward, burying my face in his toxic canyon. When my lips meet his ass lips, I feel them twitch before opening.

FFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPVVVVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDDDDD

[gayguygas]

Smell of a false accusation

With me being 25 and bi, I quickly noticed my next-door neighbors after moving into my new apartment. First, there is the curvy, beautiful woman with nice tits. Then there’s the six-foot-four guy who looks like he bench presses city buses. The most noticeable thing about him is his fat bubble butt. It’s like he’s always carrying around two basketballs in the back of his pants wherever he goes. They bounce and jiggle as he walks.

The guy’s name is Randy, and the woman’s name is Sarah. Both of them are hot. 

It's obvious to me now that they are a couple, but an hour ago, Sarah easily convinced me that they were only siblings. 

Sarah and I are now naked in her bed, and feeling good after doing the deed. She’s resting her head on my chest, and I have an arm wrapped around her.

We’re enjoying the quiet moment when suddenly, the bedroom door is kicked open. Randy is standing in the doorway, huffing in rage like a bull ready to charge. He’s wearing a dirty tank top, jeans, and brown steel-toe boots. 

If looks could kill, Sarah and I would be six feet under right now.

I open my mouth, hoping to de-escalate the situation, but Sarah acts first.

She jumps out of the bed, screaming bloody murder, leaving me alone on the bed in only my boxers. She’s shaking and crying.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Randy! I just realized he’s been gaslighting me. He manipulated me into sleeping with him. I’m the victim!” 

I’m shocked into silence. That’s the dumbest defense for cheating that I’ve ever heard.

I guess Randy must be dumb as hell because he’s staring daggers at me.

Sarah runs out of the room, with fake tears streaming down her face, leaving me alone with a pissed off monster. 

“You done fucked with the wrong woman, bitch” he growls. His gravely voice has me going pale. 

I can’t speak; I never thought I’d be in a situation like this. I guess he’s taking my silence as an admission of guilt.

He pulls off his sweaty tank and tosses it to the side. He kicks off his boots before he starts walking towards me, still on the bed. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he undoes his jeans, letting them drop and pool at his feet. He’s wearing a tight pair of grey boxer briefs that are drenched with sweat.  

He climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body. The rage in his eyes has me paralyzed and unable to speak.

“You’re about to smell why the boys call me Rancid Randy.” 

Next thing I know, he turns around and his fat ass is hovering right over my face. The sweaty fabric of his underwear is clinging to his round, meaty globes.

The last thing I see before everything goes dark is the large sweat patch running down the crack of his ass.

WHAM

He drops his bulbous, sweaty rump, taking a seat on my face. My face is being smothered under an over-encumbering amount of ass fat.

The musky smell coming from his swamp ass is tear-inducing. 

I groan from the scent. 

I both feel and hear him darkly snickering above me. “Oh, you wanna cry? Rancid Randy will give you something to cry about.”

At first, I don’t know what he’s going on about, until:

RRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT

The guy rips a thunderous, 5-second fart, point-blank in my face. It’s strong enough to rattle my skull. 

Rancid Randy is a fitting name–his fart stinks of rancid meat and rotten eggs. The smell is atrocious. It has me coughing and gagging. 

“Ah, damn, that felt good. I’m glad I had Mexican for lunch with extra beans. Doubt you agree… GGH”

MMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFF

He vents out another rancid-smelling fart in my face, and that’s when I try to struggle.

I try to buck him off me, but he shimmies his hips, bearing his ass down harder onto my face. I bring up my hands trying to push him off, but it does little more than massage his doughy globes.

“Haha, that’s it, keep on uselessly struggling. All it will earn you is more of my Rancid Rockets… HGH”

MMMMMBBBBBAAAAAAPPPPPPP

My voice is muffled beneath his meaty posterior, but I get out, “You got it all wrong, man. Your girlfriend came up to me and said she was single and you were her brother.” It’s hard to speak when every time I part my lips, his ass fat tries to pour into my open mouth. 

My explanation only angers him.

“What? You're calling my girl a liar? Suck on this, fart-bitch!”

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVTTTTTTTTT

FFFFFFFLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP

DDDDDDOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAABBBBBBB

Randy pushes out three consecutive farts that wreck me. He aggressively grinds his butt on my face, as if he’s trying to ingrain his ass musk into my pores. 

Out of desperation, I punch him in the side of his stomach, but all that does is help him dislodge a big fart.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTT

He rips a 12-second fart right in my face that reeks of raw sewage. It has me coughing and my eyes stinging.

He sighs and laughs, “Ah, haha, don’t blame me for that one. That was all you, unlike this… FGH”

VVVVVVVVBBBBBBBLLLLLLPPPPPPP

Another wave of his nauseating fumes washes over my face. It puts me in a coughing fit, weakening me. Randy uses the opportunity to trap my arms by my sides, between his knees, as he straddles my chest. 

I now feel completely helpless.

“Ah, you’ll be lucky if I let you leave here alive and don’t kill you with my farts after what you did to my girl!”

He grounds his titanic rear end harder down on me, working my face in between his cheeks. Through the material of his sweaty briefs, I feel my nose pressing against his hole.

It’s silent, but I feel his pucker open and his warm, intestinal wind heating my nose.

The smell is horrendous–like rancid meat swimming in raw sewage.

“Haha, ah yeah, breathe it in bitch, breathe in Rancid Randy. Every time you even think of my girl, you’re gonna remember my rank ass and my butt bombs.”

I ironically find my second wind and flail harder beneath him. This seems to amuse Randy.

“Oh, still struggling, I see. Seems like Rancid Randy’s gonna have to break you like a wild bronco. Thankfully, I have the ass and farts for the job.”

I think it’s over when he rises off my face. But soon enough, his big ass comes crashing back down on my face like a meteor, making me groan. And the impact is accompanied by…

RRRRRRRRPPPPPPPMMMMMMMDDDDDDD

He isn’t done.

He lifts his ass off my face.

“Yeah, take it bitch.”

He slams his ass back down and…

VVVVVVVLLLLLLLLOOOOOPPPPPPPPP

My tormentor repeats this torturous cycle. 

Up.

“This ain’t my first rodeo. Rancid Randy has broken down plenty of assholes, and you won’t be the last.”

Wham

RRRRRRHHHHHHHBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT

Up.

“Choke on my nasty farts.”

Wham

PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWFFFFFFF

Up.

“Get crushed by my big, heavy booty.”

Wham

MMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPP

Up.

“Anyone who messes with my girl has to deal with my swamp ass. Now Suffer!”

Wham

BBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU-FFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The noxious smell has my eyes and nose running. Randy’s repeated butt-drops have my face feeling like it’s been Mike Tyson’s personal punching bag.

I aggressively thrash my head from side to side, trying to get my face out of his ass. I turn my head to the left, finally escaping, getting a few breaths of cool, semi-fresh air.

I take the opportunity to shout, “Get off of me, you psycho!”

I didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow became even more agitated. 

“Psycho! Psycho! You fucked with my girl’s head, and you’re calling me a psycho.”

He lifts his ass off my face again. And then to my horror, he peels down the back of his briefs. His fleshy, bare moons, glistening with sweat, pour out of their confines and wobble ominously above my face.

“You’ve done it now. Now I’m really ticked off!”

Randy reaches down with both hands, spreading his cheeks. I’ve never seen anything more revolting. Hovering a foot over my face is his open crack. Inside is all sweaty and hairy, and dead center is his wrinkled pucker.

I start shaking my head. “No. No. You can’t do this to me. Help!” 

He immediately shuts me up by dropping down, entombing my face in his sweaty and musky canyon of a crack. 

The douche bag laughs, making his meaty orbs jiggle around my clamped face. “Don’t waste your breath; no one can hear you. No one can ever hear you in between Rancid Randy’s fat moons.”

PPPPPPWWWWWFFFFFFFFFDDDDDDDDD

MMMMMMLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP

RRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDFFFFFFF

He unleashes a barrage of trumpeting farts, point-blank in my face, putting me into another coughing fit. His ass and booming farts drown out my cries for help.

I try to struggle, but I can barely move my head anymore. There’s more than just fat in his brawny slabs. It feels like my head is caught in the jaws of life.

He rocks his ass on my face, getting comfortable. I give a muffled cry when it ends with my lips pressed against his asshole. 

“You wanna kiss someone? Then kiss this big, nasty fella; he loves the attention.” 

RRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBB

He pushes out a 6-second rumbly fart that has my lips vibrating. Some of his toxic fumes seep into my mouth, making me feel sick to my stomach.

He presses down harder and roughly gyrates his ass on my face, forcing my lips open with his hole.

“Hehe, oh yeah fart-bitch, things are about to get a lot worse for you. Eat my farts!... NGH”

BBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVVWWWWWWWDDDDDD

FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMM

My cheeks and lungs inflate with his hellish ass gas. I’m choking and gagging on his noxious, intestinal vapors.

“Fuck man, how are those extra beans I had for lunch treating ya? Do you like it? Recycled through my booty?... GGH”

MMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR

PPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDD

“Ah, good luck fucker, your face is going to be reeking of Rancid Randy’s swamp ass for weeks. You’re probably gonna have to wash your face thoroughly and daily for a month to get rid of my butt stank. You’re welcome… HGGH” 

DDDDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP-AAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBB

“Oh damn, I feel a big one brewing. I almost feel guilty about blasting your face with this, the keyword being, almost. R.I.P. your taste buds. 

FGH… This puppy comes straight from Rancid Randy’s butthole with love… UGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Who farts so much? It feels like it's been days, but it's only been a couple of minutes. This beast keeps rocketing one monstrous fart after another down my gullet. The final one is the longest, lasting well over 4 minutes alone. 

My lungs feel like they will be forever tainted with his vile butt stink. 

He rises off my face with a wet squelch. My face is drenched with his ass sweat, my tears, and my snot.

Next thing I know, I’m being pulled off the bed and onto my feet. He shoves my strewn-around clothes into my hands. He then grabs me by the back of the neck and practically drags me towards the front door.

He opens the door and tosses me out, on my knees. He towers over me, pointing an accusing finger at my face. “Let this be a warning: if you so much as eye my girl a little too long for my liking, you and my swampy ass are gonna spend a lot more personal time together.”

Randy wheels around. The back of his briefs is still pulled down, so he’s basically mooning me. His bare, sweaty cheeks are only a few feet away from my face.

I notice his hands curling at his sides, and I hear him taking a deep breath. 

BBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPP

Randy blasts me in the face with a 10-second-long, airy fart. It stinks of digested meat and garlic. And it has enough force to cause his pillowy mounds to ripple and blow my hair back. 

I’m left coughing on my knees as he slams the door in my face. Thankfully, the hallway is empty, so no one sees me at my lowest point.

I stand and hobble to my door. I pull my key out of my jeans and retreat inside my apartment. 

Things don’t end here, though. For the next few days, the couple fucks with me. 

Whenever I pass Sarah alone in the hall, she shoots me a superior smirk, silently declaring she’s won. When I pass Randy, he glares at me, and without stopping, he swivels his hips and farts on me. 

What the two don’t know is that I’m an investigative journalist. It was child's play to find Sarah’s multiple cheating partners over social media and take screenshots of them kissing.

I created a burner account and sent the pics to them and their mutual friends. Sarah’s now seen as a slut, and Randy is seen as a simp. 

I sit back and enjoy the fireworks. 

Every day, I hear them constantly screaming at each other through the walls, and I love it.

However, I’ve been dealing with a slight dilemma. In my head, I keep replaying Randy’s assault on me; the humiliation, his bare ass, and his farts. Every time I do, I feel a stirring in my crotch.

Maybe if I ignore it, it won’t mean anything. 

Things come to a head two weeks later. I’m coming home from work and find the couple arguing outside their apartment. Randy is standing in the doorway of their apartment, and Sarah’s standing in the hallway. A box of stuff is separating the two.

“Are you seriously kicking me out for a few hook-ups? You’re so insecure.” Sarah cries.

“We’re done, leave.” Randy barks in return, but then a cruel smirk forms on his lips.

“But before you go, take this with ya.”

Randy turns around and squats, bringing his ass down just above the opening of the box filled with most likely Sarah’s things.

RRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFF

Randy drops a 6-second wet fart into the box.

Sarah looks disgusted, “You can keep this cheap junk you bought for me. My friends were right: you were never good enough for me.” She turns on her heels and storms off.

“I’ll send my brother to collect my clothes and the TV, since I bought it, I can’t stomach seeing you anymore.” She snarks over her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, he'd better take only what’s yours or he’ll be Rancid Randy’s next fart-bitch.” He calls out to her. To punctuate his threat, Randy hikes his right leg and farts.

FFFFFFFHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

Sarah rolls her eyes.

As Sarah walks past me, she gives me a suspicious side glance. Did they know it was me?

My question is answered when Randy notices me. 

“You!” Randy stomps up to me, his anger nearly palpable. “I don’t know how, but I know you’re responsible for all this. You’re a dead man!”

I whip out my phone and start recording. “Mind repeating that, friend. I’d also love to record you physically attacking me.”

My words have Randy coming to an immediate halt right in front of me. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are alight with fury. He knows he can’t act.

He turns around, but instead of walking away, he leans forward, jutting out his twin moons that are barely being contained by his jeans.

RRRRRRRWWWWWWWUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP

He envelopes me in an eggy fart cloud.

He mutters, “Fart-bitch,” before walking back into his apartment.

Joke's on him, I’ll be jerking off to this recording for a while.

I guess when it comes to men, I’m into big, brawny, sweaty guys who fart a lot and are assholes. 

At this point, I thought the chapter of my life involving Sarah and Randy was over. But I was wrong, at least with Randy.

A few weeks later, on a Saturday morning, I’m awoken by heavy knocking on my door. It’s like six in the morning. 

With me being half-asleep, I made the mistake of unlocking the door before looking through the peephole. 

As soon as I start opening the door, it is kicked open, making me stumble back. Randy walks in like he owns the place. He shuts the door behind him, trapping me with him in my apartment. 

The guy’s wearing a black tank top and black basketball shorts, and he’s practically dripping with sweat. I'm pretty sure he just had a grueling workout and came straight here. What the fuck?

He flashes me a devilish, toothy grin as he lets his shorts drop, revealing that he’s wearing a sweaty, dingy, used-to-be white jockstrap.

Before my still-waking-up mind can process anything, Randy charges at me and tackles me to the carpeted ground of my sparse living room.

We wrestle on the floor, well, more like he manhandles me with ease. I’m five-foot-ten and weigh only 150 pounds. 

I wind up trapped between his powerful quads in a reverse headscissors. His mountainous, sweaty, and bare cheeks are only inches away from my face. The musk emitting from his crack is eye-burning.

“Surprise, fart-bitch, I work out early every morning, and it’s my neighborly duty to share my hard work and dedication with you.”

Randy reaches back and grips the back of my head. I try to resist, but he easily overpowers me, shoving my face against his sweaty, fuzzy crack.

PPPPPPPLLLLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTT

He unleashes a raunchy eruption, point-blank in my face. Along with his venting fumes, my face is sprayed with beads of ass sweat.

He starts rolling his hips, wiping his grimy crack from side to side, and up and down, all over my face as he farts non-stop. 

“You thought you’d make Rancid Randy look like a fool and get away scot free.” FART “Naw, buddy,” FART “You gotta pay the price,” FART “When I’m done with you, the scent of my big musky ass will be a permanent addition to your face.”

FFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTT

He rips a torrent of butt rockets in my face that stinks of rancid meat and broccoli, making me cough–though it’s muffled with me being smothered by his bubbly orbs.

I shouldn’t, but I’m becoming aroused.

Still gripping the back of my head, he pulls my face away from his ass. I look up over his fleshy hillsides, which he calls butt cheeks, meeting his steely grey eyes. 

“Tongue my hole. Now!” He growls through clenched teeth. 

Things go dark again as I’m roughly shoved in between his boulder-sized cheeks.

My brain short-circuits as I feel my lips press against the fleshy, puckered, balloon-knot. This guy–who has anger issues and who I thought was straight–wants me, a man, to eat him out?

My mental conundrum is ended by Randy flexing his meaty thighs around my head and putting on the pressure.

“That wasn’t a request. Now get to tonguing,” he practically snarls.

Rational thinking takes a backseat to self-preservation. I extend my tongue and start licking his sweaty, wrinkly hole. I circle it with the tip of my tongue, tasting him, and I love it. It tastes salty, a bit spicy, and undeniably masculine.

His quads, wrapped around my head, relax a bit–his grip on the back of my head remains firm, holding my face in place–and I feel his big body shudder, and he lets out a quiet, pleasure-filled moan. 

I flatten my tongue, licking broad strips against the pucker, wanting him to relax so it will open for me. 

Randy’s completely here for it. “Fuck yeah, fart-bitch, taste me, inside and out. GGH… Emphasis on inside… NGH”

I feel his asshole lips open and push outward.

MMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRVVVVVVPPPPPPP

He pushes out a 5-second fart that warms the surface of my tongue and rockets down my throat.

I break, I’m no longer doing this out of fear, I’m doing this out of sexual desire.

I start tonguing his hole with more enthusiasm. I dig the tip of my tongue in the knotted button of tissue and start wriggling it open slowly and pleasurably.

Randy gives a deep, wild moan. “That’s it, you nasty fart-bitch, eat my shit-chute. I’m a real man. I deserve this.”

He releases me from his headscissors. While keeping my face buried in his ass, he rolls us over with me lying on my back and him sitting on my face. It’s like what he did a few weeks ago, but gone is the hostility and rage. Both of us are swept up in primal lust. 

I start probing my tongue deeper and deeper into him. I can tell he’s enjoying this by the sounds he is making.

He tastes so good; so masculine and addictive. 

“Fucking right, fart-bitch, eat me! Eat all that I give you… HGH” 

PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWDDDDDDDDD

“Mmm, bet that had a kick to it. That was the spicy burrito I had before I hit the gym. Oh, hold on, FGH… here comes the chocolate protein shake I chugged it down with… RGH”

FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU-MMMMMMMMTTTTTTTT

His nauseating butt wind inflates my cheeks and lungs like party balloons.

While still tonguing him, I grunt when I feel Randy flick the tent popping from the crotch of my shorts.

“Well, well, well, looks like you really are a fart-bitch. Keep tonguing my fart-spewing hole and I’ll keep gassing you, that’s a promise. Heh, Rancid Randy’s fart tank is never empty.”

I start pistoning my tongue into him deeper and with more fervor. 

Randy’s practically roaring and snarling like a wild animal.

He’s rocking his hips, undulating his fat, blubbery rump seated on my face.

“Fuck, you definitely want my farts, you desperate fart-bitch.” PPPBBBTTT “Fine! Take it! Take it all!” RRRWWWDDD “I'm gonna fucking drown you with my farts!”

FFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVV

While enduring Randy’s endless, flatulent rampage, I feel him rocking back and forth. I also hear a faint and repetitive, wet slapping sound. It’s not difficult for me to figure out what he’s doing.

The fact that this sweaty, massive man is sitting and farting on my face while getting himself off has me throbbing in my shorts.

“Hang on, fart-bitch, here comes my post-workout, morning butt-thunder; right on time. It always smells god-awful and is a real doozy. See you on the other side. Ohh… Ohhh… UGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDDDD

3 minutes of toxic ass thunder explodes out of his hole, blasting my tongue and into my open mouth. His fumes taste bitter and stink of rancid eggs and onions. 

As his fart continues, my tongue sensually slithers and dances inside Randy’s warm and velvety internal canal.

“Mhmmmmm!” My shout is muffled thanks to my face being submerged between his ample mounds. 

Without touching myself, I shoot in my sleeping shorts.

Randy follows suit. I hear him growling as he thrusts into his grip while remaining seated on my face.

My shirt rode up to my chest during this intense ordeal. I feel several volleys of his essence hitting and warming my stomach.

At last, Randy rises. He pauses when his ass is hovering a few inches above my face and lets off a few purposeful poots in my face.

Pbbt, Rrvp, Fwdd 

I’m caught between coughing and gagging. My entire apartment is filled with Randy’s raunchy ass musk. I doubt the smell will ever go away, and I’m not mad.

After cooling down, I sit up and watch Randy hesitantly, worried he might break into a straight crisis rage.

But Randy seems calm as he walks over to his discarded shorts and steps into them.

With his back towards me, he says, “The way I see things, you’re the reason I’ve been suffering from a serious case of blueballs for the last several weeks. Sarah may have been a lying bitch, but she knew how to suck me off. You caused this mess, and you’re gonna fix it.”

Randy comes to a complete stop when the waistband of his shorts is just below his protruding ass slabs. He looks back at me, over his shoulder. I’m surprised to see desire and interest in his expression. 

He gives a nod like he’s figured it all out. “Yeah, so since you're the one responsible for getting me into this mess, you’re gonna be my solution for the foreseeable future. Around this time, every day, excluding Sundays, I’ll stop by after I work out at the gym, and you’ll eat my fat, sweaty ass and farts.”

His brow furrows in irritation. “And you better let me in when I come. Don’t think I won’t break down your door.”

This has gone from like 0 to 100. 

“This is my apartment, and I’m my own person. Don’t I get a say in the matter?” I point out.

He shoots me a threatening, impish smirk. “Deal with it, this is how things are gonna go down. If you got a problem, take it up with the big guy.” Randy says before tossing a thumb over his shoulder. He then arches his back, making his meaty orbs stick out even further.

MMMMMMMFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVPPPPPPPP

Randy rips a 5-second, quack-sounding fart, refreshing the room with his rancid-egg butt scent. 

I must’ve given something away because Randy looks so cocky now.

“If you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or some sort of friends-with-benefits situation going on, you'd better bring it to a hard end now. You’ve learned all too well that Rancid Randy doesn’t share what’s his.” Want and possessiveness are gleaming in his eyes, which has my breath catching. 

While I’m still sitting on the floor, Randy takes several steps back, bringing his bare, fat ass right in my face. I’m immediately met with an eggy- 

PPPPBBBBRRRRTTTT

 He then starts slowly and sensually swaying his hips from side to side, making his basketball-sized globes wobble and jiggle from left to right. He blasts my face with a string of poots as he continues to shake his butt in my face.

Ppft, Rhhv, Mtbb

“You don’t want to feel guilty about my swampy ass claiming another victim because of you? Do you, fart-bitch?” He murmurs, looking down at me over his shoulder, that possessive gleam still alight in his eyes.

It sounds like he’s teasing, but we both know he’d do it. I was his swampy ass’ victim a few weeks ago.

My mouth feels dry. I shake my head for no.

Randy’s lips stretch into a sharkish, victorious grin, like he’s the cat who swallowed the canary, while continuing to roll his hips and poot in my face. 

Fffp, Bbrp, Vvud

How do I even label this? Fart-master and slave? Fart-dom and sub? Or maybe it’s simply Rancid Randy and his fart-bitch? Whatever the title, there’s no hiding Randy’s possessive words and expressions. Could this be the starting foundation of something more meaningful in the future? Or maybe this is just about convenience until he finds a new girl. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that Randy is an unstable and dangerous wildcard, so anything is possible.

Randy stops rocking his hips, bringing his bubbly rump to a complete stop, right in my face.

He bends forward, extending all that backside even closer to my face. He reaches back with both hands and spreads his cheeks, exposing the insides of his sweaty and hairy cheeks and his musky hole.

“Kiss it goodbye for now. It’s looking forward to feeding you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I lean forward, burying my face in his toxic canyon. When my lips meet his ass lips, I feel them twitch before opening.

FFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPVVVVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDDDDD

[t0iletd0g]

You're sitting on my face, a normal routine for us. You'd watch TV, call your friends, jerk off, whatever.

And I'd be your cushion.

Sometimes you'd have my nose up your hole, on days when your stomach was acting up and you didn't want to smell it. Today, it was my tongue. You had come home after errands and wanted someone to eat your ass, and, well, you had a cushion that could do that.

You kept letting out nasty farts down my throat. Each worse than the last, to the point where I could taste them. At some point, I pull away to complain, to which you slam your ass back down on my face, forcing my head back to the ground.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask, obviously not expecting a response. A few minutes pass, where a particularly wet fart makes you speak up again.

"Damn, that was nasty... might need the toilet soon."

I whimper, but you don't move. A few more minutes pass, before I realize that all of those farts sound that... dangerous. You seemed to notice too.

"Oh, God, I really have to go, I can barely hold it now, mutt. I don't know how you're holding up through it."

I'm not, but at least you're about to get up. Or so I thought. You don't budge, but your discomfort is showing as you shift above me. I don't understand. Why aren't you budging? Then it hits me. You're not going anywhere.

"I can't hold it anymore, mutt.." is all the warning I get as I feel something solid against my tongue, the log forcing it's way down my throat. It felt never ending, and I tried to pull away, but your hand had grabbed my hair and held me to your ass.

It kept coming, and by the time it was over, and you were standing, I was so... spent.

A hot stream of liquid hit my face, and I realized you were pissing on me, mostly in my mouth.

"Wow, you look like.. shit." The smugness in your voice was all too clear. "Too bad I never wiped, huh?"

I have no time to question before you're sitting back down on me, and I realize that this is just the beginning of a long night.

[dudestinky123]

“I’m not doing this dare anymore ” I said “No you won’t or else I’ll beat the shit out of you.” He grabbed my head and positioned his ass onto my face. The smell was already too much. He started rubbing his smelly ass in my face “Take it ALLL in dude” he said. “Tyrell it reeks!” I moaned into his dirty ass. “Ya that’s the point” he said with a snicker. “Let me go!” I yelled. “You’re getting pretty annoying.” He ripped off a small piece of duct-tape and placed it over my mouth. “Now get back in there and finish the dare” Tyrell said with a laugh. I didn’t want to get beaten up so I voluntarily placed my face by his ass. “Get in there closer. Nick, is he in a good position? He needs to be because the dare was to sniff up all my farts for 10 minutes” Tyrell asked Nick who was filming the whole thing. Nick grabbed the back of my head and pushed it against his ass, while turning my head upwards so that my nostrils were pressed right up against his asshole. “He is now” Nick said with a grin. “Hahaha, dude I can literally feel his nose pressing right against my asshole. Man, Benny are you ready because this is going to stink and you have to breath it right in!!” Tyrell laughed. I could only breath out of my nose now and I was already gagging from the smell of Tyrell’s ripe ass. “There now just relax and enjoy the breeze.” he said sarcastically. “I ate three cans of beans for lunch today, and chili for dinner and I haven’t shit yet so you’re in for a good time.” I moaned as I felt the gust on my nose with the sound of a fart with it. It was the worst thing I ever smelt in my life. I would have gladly spent a year in a public men’s bathroom then be there at that point. “Aw ya smell that bro? Smells good right?” The toxic ass fumes were making me dizzy. I just kept my face there and accepted my fate at that point. Fart after fart it went on forever and Tyrell was loving it. “It’s getting kind a hot now, back up” As I removed my face he pulled down his boxers and got back into position. He was right it was hot. His ass was wet and sweaty which just made matters worse. He grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face into his hot sweaty ass crack “Get in there.” he said. My nose was touching right up to his hole. At that point I had no more energy to struggle. He released a wet 10 second long fart directly into it. “No filtration, much better right?” he said. “Dude, I’m getting all of this on video!” Nick laughed. It smelled like shit, literally it smelled like he was about to shit in my face. He didn’t though. He let rip over and over for another half hour and I just took it like his little fart bitch. Even though the dare was only ten minutes Tyrell was having too much fun torturing me to stop..