Untitled

[7kbuttcheeks2]

Lost Bet: Game Day Fart Couch

This was for Super Bowl LVIII, that was the longest in history!

...

I drove down the highway with my stomach in knots. Dread was creeping over my hands as I got off the exit. It was Superbowl Sunday, and I was about to suffer the consequences of a bet which I knew I’d never live down.

Two weeks ago I was with my buddies watching the game at our favorite bar. There was Jimmy, Henry, Ethan, and Carter all drinking beer and sharing nachos. I stuffed a few of the cheap chips and thick cheese spread thinking of how to answer Jimmy’s question.

“C’mon, who do you think’ll win, Will? You gotta choose right or else,” He giggled. The others chuckled along. We all knew what “or else” meant, the punishment for losing that could only come from Jimmy’s demented mind. The others were doing well with their game predictions. I on the other hand only came for the beer and company. Since I didn’t care about football or follow teams or trends, all my guesses were shots in the dark, each time missing. It was just me against Henry now, and whoever lost this game would be sentenced to “stink hell”.

I was nervous trying to gamble. With no reason other than liking the idea of a strong lion, I said “Detroit.”

“Alright, then Henry you got 49ers.” Jimmy smirked, running his fingers through his blond hair. We watched the TV with anxiety, the others looking forward to seeing one of us defeated.

As the game went on, my stomach churned more and more. It was over for me. The Lions lost and the guys cheered for Henry, patting him on his back.

“You know what that means, don’t you Willy?” Jimmy shot at me with his devilish smile.

I groaned. The Super Bowl was going to suck for me. Especially for my nose.

…

I parked my car outside Jimmy’s apartment and rang the buzzer. He lived in the basement unit and I walked down the brick stairs to his patio. When he opened the door he was giddy. “Hey the loser’s here! You ready for the best day of your life?”

“Oh fuck off,” I tried to laugh. I didn’t want to be mean to him but I was pissed at Jimmy’s insistence on these over the top bets he made us participate in. Like he was jigsaw watching over the torturous games.

Walking through his living room the smell of cheeses and meats wafted around. I saw one crockpot with BBQ meatballs and another with Italian beef. There was a pan of baked beans, another with roasted broccoli. I even smelled a pot of curry. This mix made me cringe knowing Jimmy chose that atypical game food on purpose. And a fridge full of bottles of beer.

The others were hanging around already drinking, and they called my name and cheered.

Ethan said, “Let’s hear it for our Fart Huffer everyone!”

I groaned while they cheered for me. Jimmy then led me to the Couch.

Where he gets his ideas, I have no clue. As if he were an immature school boy with the mind of a mad scientist. The Couch was bought used over Facebook and sat three people. Jimmy had modified the cushions so that each one had a hole that someone could sit over. Two of the holes were smaller and opened to some tubing, the third was large went right down into the hidden chamber inside the couch. Looking down into it, I could see a pillow ready for my head to rest.

Jimmy said, “now put your wrists together, yep that’s it. Carter you can do the honors,”

Carter walked up to me holding some thin red rope and started tying my hands together.

“So, wait,” I laughed nervously, “I thought it was just gonna be a hole in the seat,”

“Oh no buddy, I had to make sure you can get the full experience.” He led me to the back of the couch and slid a long panel up to show me the cushioned area. It was like climbing into a coffin, or a book nook, or one of those Japanese hotel pod rooms with only a bed. I saw that the tubes were tied up and pointed toward the pillow. When I laid down on my back I could see the ends of the tubes pointing right at my face.

“And the last touch,” Jimmy surprised me by pulling an old seatbelt over my chest and clicking into the side. He tightened it before clicking a second seatbelt over my thighs.

“Ugh this is so stupid,” I said, “All this for a few farts?!” I tried to keep acting nonplussed but I was starting to feel nervous and claustrophobic. I didn’t realize that I’d be bound to the couch.

“Not a few, Will, we got all night.” And without warning he stretched a length of duct tape that he must have grabbed when I wasn’t looking and quickly strapped it over my mouth. I was too shocked to react at first, my eyes bulging and trying to move my mouth or speak. I started hyperventilating through my nose. He winked and then shut the panel. The others had been watching this all and were laughing at us. Laughing at me.

I rest my head back. How long would this game go on for? Jimmy said the loser would have to “sniff farts all through the game” but I didn’t know how far he was going to take this. I should have guessed it was going to be worse than I’d imagined.

He then appeared through the hole over my face looking down at me with his light blue eyes and asking “Ready for round 1?”

“MMPH?”

He twisted around and plopped back onto the cushion. It was dark inside the couch until I heard him fumble on the side and suddenly a few small LED lightbulbs went on, glowing against his jeans-covered ass. My makeshift bed was close enough to the cushions that I could already start to smell Jimmy’s musk through his denim.

“Some help for you to really appreciate your surroundings,” He laughed. I stared up at my friend’s ass and sighed. I’d have nothing else to look at for the next several hours except for his ass. And the asses of the others for when they’d no doubt switch places for.

The couch creaked with two others sitting on the other cushions. I heard Henry say “Can I rip now? I’ve been holding them in all day,”

“Of course. The inaugural blast. Make sure to press that button like I told you.”

What button?

Then the sound of Henry’s farting ass echoed through the tube and against the interior walls of the couch coffin.

PPTPRTPRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

The others laughed at the length and sound of the blast. I heard someone high five him. And a moment later, I heard more noise, the whirling of a fan. Air blew through the tube and across my face, carrying the fart stink with it. I immediately started gagging, my skin burning as the tape clung to my coughing mouth. It stunk pretty bad, like he was going to take a shit soon.

“Enjoy the fart fan?” Jimmy tried looking through the gap between his crotch and the cushion lining, “Made it so you don’t have to wait for their stink to reach you!”

The fart cloud wafted over my head and the stink wasn’t getting any weaker. I clenched my eyes shut. He’d built small fans into each tube so all they had to do was press a button on the couch to make the farts shoot out right up my nose.

“Hope you have fun in fart heaven, Will, the game’s about to start.” Jimmy said with a smile in his voice. I watched in horror as he pulled his jeans down, mooning me his smooth pale cheeks and ass crack, shaved taint, and showing me his pink asshole. Without any clothes, the ass that was only a few inches from my face began to stink up the air around me.

I buckled against the restraints that kept me on my back but couldn’t roll over. I heard another fart rip through one of the tubes before it was blasted into my face. This was going to be a long hell reeking of gassy assholes…

…

The first hour dragged on. I could hear my friends having fun above me commenting on the game, drinking their beer and burping, chatting about life, all as if I weren’t in the room. They only acknowledged me when one of them ripped a fart. If Jimmy had gas I’d watched his ass shuffle a bit and the disgusting sight of his asshole puckering and farting. see him try to peer down at me with an evil smirk, knowing that without any clothes to cover him, I could feel the gas puff right against my face. His farts were pretty gross, making me think he had helpings of broccoli with breakfast as well, along with feeling the heat against my skin. I was afraid I’d throw up into the duct tape and choke to death. When one of the other two farted they’d press the button to activate the fan inside the tube and their farts would be like a punch to the face. And because there were very few air holes around me, each fart hung stale in the air and the couch was getting more and more stuffy with body heat and lingering farts that had nowhere to go but up my nose.

My face was mere inches away from the source of Jimmy’s noxious fumes, and I could feel the vibrations of each fart as it ripped over my nose. I tried to hold his breath, but it was no use. With each passing minute, the stink became more unbearable, and my eyes began to water.

If the stink wasn’t going to kill me, the boredom would. I had nothing to do but lay there staring up at Jimmy’s naked ass to constantly remind me how much of a loser I was. I couldn’t hear what was going on in the game, only my friends’ reactions. And the sound of their assholes seemed to echo in the couch and amplified some to ear-piercing volume, making me flinch as if they were farting right into my ears. I was getting a headache from the stink.

From somewhere above a timer went off and Jimmy said, “Alright, switch places!”

He stood up, yanking his jeans back on in the process and giving me only a moment of fresh air as some of the fart cloud left through the cushion hole. My eyes squinted at the flood light above and I tried sucking through Henry’s latest gas bomb so I could get some sweet fresh air.

“Lord have mercy,” Jimmy fanned his nose, “You’re not doing a good job sucking down all our gas, Fart Sniffer.”

“MMPH!” I was getting more angry with Jimmy as time went on. This was really too much for a stupid bet on football teams.

But he walked away and I saw Ethan take his place. He looked down at me through the hole and said, “Sorry for what’s about to come out of my ass, bud,” before turning around and pulling his jeans down. He sat his hairy ass down over the seat with his ass hole at the center of my gaze. I’d seen Ethan’s naked ass before because one of his favorite jokes was to photo-bomb people while mooning behind their backs, but being this up close and personal really forced me to appreciate just how hairy his crack and gooch were. The same hair carried his musk from both his crack and balls. It felt hot against my face and the stink slowly took over my nose. I grimaced, hoping that somehow his farts would be “better” somehow than what I had to go through under Jimmy. They weren’t.

PPPPREPTPTRPTPRPTPPPPP

His puckered asshole let out a blast that defined my ears from bouncing off the walls. The heat made me gag before I could even react to the stench. It was beefy, probably from the chili and nachos I smelled earlier, only now at the end of its journey through Ethan’s guts. I coughed into my gagged mouth, listening to my friends laugh at the sound.

“Damn you really got reverb off that one!” I heard Carter say.

It didn’t take long for the other asses on the couch to start pumping out more farts. I winced with fear that at any moment someone would use the fan button to inject their fart up my nostrils. My eyes watered from the lingering stink that had been building up inside the couch.

Then Ethan said, “Oh no I got another big one, brace yourself Will,” And I watched his fingers come down to spread his cheeks wide. I stared in horror at his asshole puckering, shutting my eyes just before

PPPRPTPRTPRTPRPTPPPPPPPPPPP

I screamed into my gag. It was the same awful beefy cheesy funk from earlier, but hotter and louder and somehow thicker. My skull rattled from the sound and the pressure. They were dying of laughter above me. My eyes were stinking and I kept them shut as hard as I could. But I couldn’t pinch my nose or breathe in through my mouth. I had no choice but to gag with each breath.

…

Jimmy’s timer went off and Ethan stood up. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t sniff through the fart cloud and get any fresh air in before the next naked ass plopped down and started my next hour of stink hell. Carter was athletic and, like Jimmy, a blond boy who kept his ass shaved. The manscaping made it less gross to look at, but his pink asshole still stunk from such a short distance so it wasn’t that much of an improvement. The seatbelts keeping my body down were uncomfortably digging into my skin and my wrists ached from being tied up. I was glad to hear the halftime concert in the background, I hoped that meant I was at least halfway through this torture.

I heard some muttering over me, and then my heart dropped when the guys on the couch chanted “Three, two, ONE!”

All three asses farted at once, the echoing from the tubes amplified along with Carter’s bare asshole and pierced my ears. The gust from Carter’s ass hit like a punch and the blasts from both tube fans made me feel disoriented. I screamed again because the three farts mixed together into a vile cocktail of nachos, beans, curry…a horrible mix of all the night’s game foods washed down with beer formed an ungodly stink that had farted out all over my face at once. I thought I was going to die.

They were laughing and high fiving again, not caring how miserable I was. “Fuckin A dude, I don’t know if Will’s gonna make it out of there alive,”

Like with the earlier farts, the stink lingered. At first I thought it would feel like an eternity. Then I realized it would be for eternity for how little fresh air could get into the couch. I was feeling tired and dizzy, claustrophobic, and with a headache that was getting worse. I tried imagining if I’d won the bet and got to enjoy the game while waiting for my turn to fart bare assed in the loser’s face. If I’d known how bad it would be for the person in the couch, I wouldn’t have agreed to this. I don’t think any of them really thought much other than “that would suck”. I vowed that I’d challenge Jimmy to the same wager the next time the opportunity came up and make him have a taste and smell of his own evil mind.

Another fart tore through the pipe and the fan made it gust into my nose. I thought I was going to go crazy down there.

…

Hours passed, and my friends were still going strong. They were determined to make the most of this bet and were constantly trying to outdo each other with their farts. I felt like I was in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

The last hour of the game. One more hour and I’d be free. I kept thinking that to myself while staring at Henry’s hairy ass over me. He has more hair than Ethan did, thick black hair all over his cheeks and crack. As if I were looking up at a werewolf’s ass. He told me it was his Persian father that gave him this curse. And as stinky as it was, and how gross it was to look at the sweat matting the hair down in his crack, I was nervous that he hadn’t farted yet. I wasn’t sure how long it had been, at least five farts had echoed out of the tubes since he sat down.

Then I saw his asshole move a bit. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the next awful feeling and the ear shattering sounds. Instead, it was a quiet hiss of air.

Holy fuck did it reek. It was like he shoved deviled eggs up his ass hours ago. I thought I would puke through my gag. I’d been sweating and anxious for a while now, and this was sending me over the edge. I fought against the seatbelts hoping I could somehow will myself to break through the restraints. All that did was get Jimmy’s attention,

“Sounds like Will is really enjoying our gas tonight!”

I wanted to fucking kill him. Henry’s farts had gotten worse over the evening. The heat was making me feel nauseous and every single fart from earlier still lingered in the air, making it feel sickly humid and swampy. This had turned into the most disgusting experience I’d ever had in my life.

And another silent deadly fart seeped out over my face.

I tried screaming “I need a break!” but the tape had muffled it to a pathetic whimper. Tears were streaming out of my eyes. Another fan whirled on and shot an SBD from one of the other asses above me. I needed this hell to be over.

“Oh, oh SHIT!” I heard them making a fuss. Something happened in the game. Probably an epic play that I wouldn’t be able to talk about with any of my other friends or coworkers, because I was a loser who spent the superbowl being farted on instead of watching and having fun.

Then Jimmy said something that chilled me, “Uh, you’re not gonna like this Will, but it looks like they’re going into overtime.”

Fuck me. It wasn’t fair.

Henry’s ass let out an ugly sounding plop of a fart,

PPRPTRPTPPPP

I dry heaved into the duct tape.

…

Another shift brought Jimmy’s ass over me. This time all the foods he’d prepared had worked their way through his guts and made his gas much more potent than before. I’d sweat through my shirt, feeling almost delirious from the constant barrage of farts. The beans, curry, broccoli, the whole works had sent my friends’ asses into overdrive, the fans going off every few minutes to drown me in more farts. The air felt ten degrees hotter than it did when I first got in, a heat that only rose with each pump of gas.

The game went into double overtime. So far, the only Super Bowl to ever go into double overtime. The gods of fate really hated me that day. I could do nothing but stare at Jimmy’s pink asshole as I was falling into sensory overload with the sounds, stink, and hot sticky air. I still don’t know how I didn’t end up vomiting in my mouth that night.

Over and over I had to breathe in every type of fart. Silent and deadly, loud and obnoxious, short poots, long drawn out farts, several popping off in a row, all to the constant laughter of my friends that got more and more cruel as the night went on.

Double overtime.

Shutting my eyes didn’t keep me from suffering the stink, or hearing the sounds of their assholes, or feeling the hot air from the pipes or from Jimmy’s naked asshole, or from feeling the vibrations against my skin or the sweat on my face that had to be holding all the stink with it.

And Jimmy was over the moon. He showed off his farting talent by ripping one that felt like it lasted a whole minute, which got everyone to cheer. They were impressed while I had to take it point blank in my face, making my stomach churn.

The only Super Bowl in history to go into double overtime.

I had nothing to do but stare at Jimmy’s asshole and pray that it wouldn’t break that record.

…

“Alright, your time’s up Will.”

I felt like his voice was from somewhere far off. I didn’t even react when the back panel of the couch slid open until the gust of fresh air slapped me in the face. I sucked it into my nose, breathing “clean” air for the first time in hours.

“Dear god that reeks!” Jimmy cackled with delighted disgust. The others walked around just to get a quick whiff of a fraction of what I’d suffered all night, thick and concentrated.

“Jeezus,” I heard Henry join in, “That must have sucked dude I’m sorry,”

If I weren’t exhausted and still duct taped, I would have swore at him. Sucked was the lightest way to put it.

Jimmy helped me out of the belts that had left red marks in my skin and freed my hands. My wrists and back were sore. My headache pounded worse as he ripped the tape off my face making my skin sting.

“Ah well it was fun while it lasted. Not sure what to do with this couch now. Maybe we ought to bring this punishment back in the future.”

The others laughed nervously. None of them really wanted to get the full experience that I had.

…

That night I took a long shower before I went to bed. No matter how much I scrubbed, my face still felt dirty, and I couldn’t tell if I kept smelling their gas because so many fart particles had glued to the inside of my nostrils or that I was getting PTSD flashbacks and the memory of the stink wouldn’t go away.

I fell asleep thankful it was all over, and hoping I could get my revenge on Jimmy soon. But that night I dreamt I was back in the fart couch, staring at a dozen naked asses all sticking through holes along each side of me and letting out a symphony of farts. I kept screaming in the dream but no one came to save me. Instead I saw Jimmy’s evil smirk as he turned around, spread his cheeks, and made his pink asshole meet my nose and let a fart so loud it shook my skull and burned through the back of my throat and into my lungs.

I woke up with a jolt. It was just a nightmare. A horrible nightmare.

One that I would have every night for several weeks afterward. The Super Bowl was over, but I was still trapped in the fart couch.

[kipercrow]

would love to see Will get his revenge

Maybe a fart off?

[jay-andom-writing]

Bully's Rules - Part 1: Play Ball

(Image by tejas_renegade on X)

M4M - Fart fetish, facesitting, bully kink, fart humiliation, sports gear

All characters are 18+

A/N: Long time since I posted a story, been suffering writer's block for the longest time. This story came to me over the past month or so and I managed to finish the first part. Not sure how many parts it will be, but this is my story where I'm letting myself play a little more raunchy, since My New Boss is a bit slower paced. Speaking, hopefully the next story post will be My New Boss Part 4! Fingers crossed 🤞

Agreeing to let my high school bully be my roommate was the worst decision I ever made.

Jake had been such a bully to me all throughout middleschool and high school. We were the classic nerdy dork and jock bully combination. He played baseball so he was always fit, and he had a huge ass even back then.

I knew I was gay even back in middleschool, and as cliche as it sounds a part of me did have a crush on Jake, but only a small one and it was tempered by how much of a raging douche he was. In senior year of high school, Jake found out I was gay. I still hadn't come out publicly, but he didn't out me. Strangely, he stopped bullying me as much after that. Maybe he felt sorry for me, I don't know. After high school the two of us went to different colleges and I was happy to never see him again.

After college, I moved back to a town not far from my hometown for a job opportunity. I put out some feelers among friends seeing if anyone was in the area looking for a roommate. As fate would have it, after a couple weeks of dead ends, Jake reached out. Said he was looking for a roommate too, he already had an apartment picked out and everything. I was hesitant, remembering what a shithead he'd been. But it had been four years, and people change. I said yes. A week later I had signed the lease and moved in. That's where my trouble started.

Jake had changed a lot since high school, at least physically. He'd grown a couple inches, put on a good chunk of weight, and grown out a full beard. Immediately, when we reconnected the day I moved in, I felt my heart skip a beat. I may have thought I was crushing on him before, but it was nothing compared to this. Still, I tried to push that aside, telling myself that he was straight and I shouldn't get hung up. It didn't stop my eyes from wandering to his ass, even bigger than it was four years ago.

Most days living with Jake were fine. He was a good roommate, and other than ribbing me from time to time you wouldn't know the man had bullied me relentlessly for years. He was still cocky as hell; I hated to admit I found it attractive. But he did his half of the chores, respected my personal space, and the two of us even had a lot more in common than I expected. We got along well. The only big problem was when he would go out drinking with his old baseball buddies on the weekends. A lot of times they'd go to the batting cages, and he'd come home clearly drunk and soaked in sweat. Being drunk made Jake loud and even more cocky and brought out his bully streak. A few times, he had snuck up behind me sitting on the couch and stinkfaced me, his swampy bubble butt completely covering my face. He would also do other gross things like burp in my face or try to headlock me into his armpit. He never pushed it very far and he always laughed it off afterwards and apologized, but it was a taste of the bully I'd grown up with. And why did I get so hard whenever he acted this way?

Things escalated one Friday night. We had been living together for about six months by this point. Jake had been out longer than usual, but I was up late finishing some work that was due on Monday. I had just sat down on the couch to relax before bed when the door swung open. There was a loud *URRRRRP!* from Jake's direction, an echoing belch announcing his entrance. If that wasn't enough he also sarcastically shouted "Oh honey, I'm hoooome!" I rolled my eyes at him and laid down on the couch and went back to relaxing.

"What? No small talk for me? No 'how was your night with the boys'?" He said, trying to provoke a response

"It's late, Jake, I'm sure you can tell me all about hitting baseballs and drinking beer tomorrow."

"Wow, someone's a party pooper."

"I just had a long day," I replied. "Trying to relax a little before bed."

There was a pause. No quippy follow up. That immediately put me on edge. After about thirty seconds I cracked an eyelid to check on what Jake was doing. Only to see his bulbous butt cheeks clad in nothing but a pair of underwear with the word "Nastypig" emblazoned across the ass, looming over my face, just as he slammed his ass down.

Immediately my world went dark and it felt like my face was being wedged between two warm, damp sacks of sand. The fabric of Jake's underwear could barely count as a barrier between my skin and his thick cheeks, especially with just how soaked in sweat his butt had become over the evening. It was a hot night and I was only getting hotter as my roommate bully sat down on me with his full 300 lbs of bulk. The smell was just hell. Thick, salty, musky ass stank tainted every breath I took. I tried to force Jake off of me but he wouldn't budge an inch. Even my screams of protest were muffled by his meaty glutes.

"Calm down, bro," He said, laughing. He sounded just like he did back when he'd bully me in the locker room in high school. Arrogant and amused and cruel. "You said you were trying to relax, I figured I'd give you a lil' aroma therapy!"

My stomach dropped. I knew what he meant by "aroma therapy." He'd done it to me once at a sleepover when we were young. Knowing how much bigger he was now, and how deep inside his ass crack my nose was trapped, I tried to beg for mercy. I tried to plead "No!" but my words drowned in the thick buns pressing down on me.

I felt Jake tense, and heard him grunt.

BBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!

A ten second long jet of vile gas blasted up my nose and out to the rest of my face. I immediately gagged and bucked underneath Jake, trying to force him off before I puked, but he just laughed at me and kept me pinned under his ass.

"Why are you struggling so much, little buddy? Someone clearly needs to re-unnnfff-lax!"

As Jake let out that grunt--

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBBRRRRPPPPPTTTTT!

A nasty, wet bubbler rippled its way across my face. I felt my nostrils burning, and I let out another muffled scream. Jake was howling at this point, his cruel laughter only being drowned out by the thunderous bassy bombs coming from his ass.

BRRPPT!

BRRRRRRPPPT!

BRRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPPTTTTT!

Jake unloaded a barrage of farts all over my face. It couldn't have gone on longer than five minutes, but it felt like it would never end. He kept faking concern like "You feel better yet, little buddy?" while grinding his drenched ass hard against my nose. It brought me back to when Jake would bully me when we were kids. A churning mix of humiliation, disgust, shame, and excitement. Part of me felt sick. The other part couldn't ignore the growing erection I was getting.

After what felt like hours of torment under Jake's ass, I heard a dangerous gurggling come from somewhere deep in my bully's guts.

"Uh-oh, little buddy, sounds like you're in for the big one!"

The emphasis he put on that title made me immediately start bucking again, trying to force him off me before the apocalyptic fart could hit me.

I failed.

brbrbrbrrrrAAAAPPPPPPBBRAAAAAAAAPPPPPTTTBRAAAAAPPPPPTBRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSS!!!

It started as a tiny stream of air that smelled of pure shit. Then it grew in intensity, roaring out like a gale force wind and shaking my head like an earthquake. The smell somehow got worse, like rotten sewage being shoved up my nose again and again. And it kept going! Every time I thought he was done, Jake would tense and a new wave of horrendous gas would shoot out of him and hit me like a truck. I was sure I would throw up. I also had the hardest boner I'd ever had in my life.

When the big one finally ended, I heard Jake was laughing like a madman over me. He shook his ass on my face, wiping a bit more of his sweat off on me, before finally, mercifully, standing up.

"Haha, sorry man, I know I'm being an ass but I just had to," he reached down to help me up off the couch as he said it. I saw him glance at my crotch, a large tent still standing between my legs, and look back confused at me. Then a cocky grin slowly spread across his face. "Looks like you had more fun than I thought, dirty dog."

I felt my cheeks go flush and mumbled at him to piss off, getting up from the couch without taking his helping hand. He gave me a slap on the back, and suddenly we were back to being amicable roommates. Any hint of that bully nature was gone. I quickly made an excuse that it was late and I needed to shower the smell of his ass off of me before bed. Jake chuckled at that and we parted ways as he went sleep.

I stayed in the shower a long time that night. The warm water streaming down my body. My cock was still standing at attention. Why had I gotten turned on by Jake farting on me?

That night, standing in the shower, was the first time I came over Jake's farts. It wouldn't be the last.

[7kbuttcheeks2]

An Unworthy Omega

This was a short story paired with an image, but I won't be sharing pictures with stories anymore. Imagine a guy is spreading his ass cheeks in your face, flashing his pink hole.

...

The voice of Harrison, Fraternity President, echoed in my head; “If you aren’t the Alpha dog, the view stays the same. That is why you, pledge, have been chosen as our Omega. At the back of the wolf pack, you are not allowed to know us or be friends with us. We are your superior brothers, you know us by our tails, our furry cheeks, and our assholes”

In some old part of the frathouse basement they tied me into a chair behind a hole carved into the wall. The engineering majors here were creative. A long thick strap kept my head bound against the hole. I could only see forward at a slight angle down, fixed in place by the band. I was strapped in so I could not move my face in any direction. I couldn’t move my body. I had to sit there and wait for the next ass to enter my field of vision.

“Got a treat for you, Omega Faggot…” the voice was familiar. He was probably nice to me when I first signed up to rush the frat. Ever since, they have all been cruel to me. They never use my name. They only acknowledged me when they had gas, or they wanted the other brothers to take videos of me kissing their assholes.

He continued, “Cold brew with extra espresso is hitting hard. I could have let these beasts out into the toilet, but your face is closer, and I’m kinda bored.”

His ass appeared in front of me. I could smell it already, the nasty musk of an unshowered ass crack. At least he wasn’t as hairy as some of the others. The hairy ones were always more putrid than the guys who shaved. His fingers spread his cheeks taut, revealing his tight pink asshole. 

With disgust and shame, I realized that I recognized his asshole. The brothers made sure that it was impossible for me to see the face of the brothers whose asses were creeping toward me. I learned few of their names during that semester. As my time in this prison behind the wall goes on, it is becoming easier and easier to remember each individual asshole. If they ever let me into the frat, even if they change their attitudes for the better, their asses will still haunt my dreams. 

I winced but couldn’t shut my eyes. They punished me for shutting my eyes before. I don’t know how they can tell. A secret camera aimed at my face? I wouldn’t put it past them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were live streaming this.

I stared into the pink asshole as it clenched and started to push. Before I signed up for this fraternity, I’d never actually seen a farting asshole. Now it was the only thing that broke the monotony of staring at the basement wall and wood floor.

The fart tore out like a drill, and the heat and stench made me cough. Burnt coffee grounds, musty basement, a thick layer of sulfur. Fuck, he ate hard boiled eggs earlier. They’ve been doing that lately, some even enjoyed telling me that they don’t even like eating boiled eggs, but they will eat them anyway just to give me something to do. “Otherwise you’re worthless” they said. I gagged again and again.

“Hey I don’t hear sniffs.”

I fought my gag reflex and sniffed as hard as I could, as loud as I could, to please the brother. I needed to make them happy. Every day I would only be allowed out of the wall to go to class and spend an hour at the library to study. Outside of that schedule, I had to be here, in the wall, doing nothing but waiting to endure the next ass.

[Though even the library wasn’t really a break. I would get texts from unknown numbers to go to the “spot” they set up. Some out of the way shelves where I was commanded to go and kneel and wait. The books on the shelf at head level had been pushed aside so I could see through to the next aisle. I would have to rest my chin on the shelf and wait for the brother who texted me to come into the aisle and stick his ass through the gap in the shelf. I was thankful whenever they kept their clothes on (then again, is sucking a fart through jeans somehow better than being hit by the bare asshole?) but the seclusion tempted them to drop their pants.]

“Oh guess what?” He chuckled, “I got another one ready for ya.”

He backed up more, now the heat of his ass crack was coating my face. I winced and trembled as the asshole pushed out again.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRPRPRRRRT

It was too concentrated, too close…my gagging was loud, so strong it hurt my throat.

“Are you being ungrateful, Faggot?” He spat, “Should I tell President Harrison that you aren’t thankful for these gifts?”

“No I’m so sorry, please,” I trembled. The rancid fart stink was still clouding against my face. I couldn’t deal with another punishment. The last one left my ass and balls swollen and purple. Oh god I cannot experience that again. I took very deep sniffs, forcing myself to drink in the burning sulfur and force my mouth shut. 

“Thank you sir,” My eyes were welling in tears.

“That’s better.” He said, “I will allow you to kiss my asshole.”

They always worded it like that, as if forcing me to inhale their farts and to kiss their asses was them doing me a favor. Because I didn’t even deserve to kiss their superior asses, didn’t deserve to smell their farts.

I pursed my lips against his asshole. It was grimey. But I was used to the sensation of feeling asshole grime on my lips. I knew that I would be unable to smell anything but his asshole long after he’d left.

After the tenth kiss, he finally pulled away and his ass left my view. I was relieved that this little hell was over. But he didn’t leave yet. I stared at his shoes as he stood in front of me. 

“Ah you’re gonna love this,” He said. Then he brought his phone to my face. On the screen, an over the shoulder selfie with the face cropped out. The brother was in the bathroom, the back of his shirt soaked in sweat, and mooning his smooth ass cheeks in the mirror. I could see drops of sweat running down them.

“Your superior just finished his workout, and he says he’s felt his protein shake gurgling all afternoon. Says it might take a full 15 minutes before his tank is completely emptied.”

Then he walked away. I started to cry. I didn’t deserve to feel his ass sweat on my face. I should be thankful they let me enjoy their farts. 

As the Omega, I had to learn to appreciate their gas as if, at the back of the pack, the wind would always blow their ass stink toward me. 

[lucasviuassim]

[thefartingdom-deactivated201901]

One of the best parts about sleeping over at your friend’s house was his step dad. The guy was built and loved to horse around with the two of you. You constantly stared at his ass and fantasized endlessly about worshipping it. And one night, waking up to use the john downstairs, you happened to hear him pulling into the driveway. Panicking, you went to the living room and pretended to sleep on the couch, eventually drifting off. Until you woke with the sight and smell of his ass directly above you.

“Hey kid. Looks like you might finally get what you were hoping for since we’re finally alone-”

PFPFPrprPARpRrpRPprpptptpTPTPtptTttt

“Sniff it.”

Your moan was all the validation he needed.

[7kbuttcheeks]

Camping Trip

This story is completely fictional, is for 18+, and includes fetish and kink material, such as fart sniffing, ass worship, master/slave play, and manly musk. If any of this is an issue with you, do NOT continue. Otherwise, enjoy!

This is an old story that I wrote, inspired by a similar fetish one I read years ago. Again, I have to warn you guys; this is another gross look into my perverted mind, and if the idea of being forced to sniff farts grosses you out, don’t read this filth! But if this filth excites you, then do continue, my fellow stink pig.

...

~3.4 words

Guy makes a new friend at the gym and invites him to go camping. But this friend has his own agenda...

...

It was three in the afternoon; I sat in my grey seat at my grey desk under grey fluorescent lighting. I was tapping my pen against my grey desk. I even wore a grey shirt. But I was smiling.

It was the first Friday of May, and after 5 o’clock my vacation would begin. Every year I get 10 vacation days, and I make sure to save them up so I can use them all in spring. There’s a campsite I like to go to; no wifi, no neighbors, no stupid coworkers, no annoying parents, just me in the forest. I was staring at the clock at the corner of the screen. It took forever for the numbers to roll by.

Never mind, it won’t be just me this year. I have to bring Cliff along. I ran into Cliff one morning at the gym; he asked me to spot him while he did his bench presses. I didn’t like going to the gym, I’m the kind of guy who only goes so he could get away with eating junk food. But Cliff was one of those guys who lived at the gym. He was taller than me, and bigger than me; all muscle. He looked like the kind of guy who could squeeze your head just by flexing against you. He had short brown hair, stubble, and of course a much better body than I could ever dream of having. But for some reason, he started chatting with me a few weeks ago, and we accidentally became gym partners. He’s even been helping me bulk up a bit. I’m still kind of a wimp, but now I’m toned and can look in the mirror, easily imagining myself walking up to the hot girl at the bar.

But when I told him I was going away camping for two weeks, he insisted on coming along. Cliff’s a cool guy, don’t get me wrong, but these camping trips were always my thing; my alone time. I tried to be nice and talk him out of it, but he invited himself to come along anyway. Once he set his mind on something, it was happening, I’d slowly begin to learn. But he seems like a cool guy, and he’s great to hang out and work out with, so I didn’t want to hurt his feelings [Mom did say I’m too soft for my own good]. Sure, camping’s my thing, but maybe it’ll be fun to have a friend tag along. To dudes just hanging out, drinking beers, fishing…it’ll be fun.

…

I’d been driving upstate for an hour, Cliff was in the passenger seat. I could smell his pits’ BO from all the way over here. And I’m sure that I caught a faint whiff of his ball funk. After keeping my mouth shut for so long, and gagging though the past hour, I had to say something. “No offence, but man, you reek!”

“Today was my day off,” He shrugged, “So I spent more time working out.”

I grimaced, “You didn’t shower dude?”

“Haha, no, sorry” He lifted his arm and sniffed his pit, “Pew! Didn’t know I stunk this bad! I’ll haveta wash off in the lake.”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” I laughed. Today was his day off…? And he was taking the next two weeks off? “What do you do, exactly?” I realized I’d never asked.

I glanced over and saw a sly smirk across his face, “Specialty services.”

I guess he was just a private guy; keep things to himself. Maybe we’ll open up a bit to each other during these next two weeks.

He rustled open his backpack, “Mind if I eat in the car? I didn’t grab lunch.”

“No problem, I could stop somewhere for dinner,” I looked around, “There might be an oasis or something I could go to the drive through.”

“That’s alright,” He pulled out a sandwich, “I got food.” He opened the bag and the queasy smell of eggs hit me.

“Ugh, what is that?!” I coughed.

“Egg salad.” He laughed, “Tastes great, it’s good for me. But it gives me the worst gas.” He kept laughing.

“Gross,” I laughed too, but he seemed to be cackling, and for longer than I could fake it. Laughing this hard at a fart joke? How old is this guy?

“Sorry dude, hope you don’t mind I’ll be pretty gassy later.”

“We’ve each got our own tents.” My smile faded a bit. I hoped he wouldn’t be this annoying when we got to the camp.

It was getting late, and I saw a gas station marked up ahead.

“Hey, speaking of gas, I need to fill the tank real quick.” I got off the highway and pulled into the station. The place seemed empty. I pulled up to a pump near the street so I could get back on the road quickly. I got out the car and walked over to the pump. I saw Cliff was looking for something in his bag. He lowered the window, “Hey dude, do you mind picking up a dozen fiber one bars? I’ll pay you back.”

I shrugged, “Sure.” I walked across the lot and into the station, grabbed the bars, paid the cashier, and walked back out. I got to the car and opened the door to push the gas cap lever, but Cliff wasn’t in his seat.

I stood up and looked around, but couldn’t see him. Did he go to the bathroom? “Cliff?” I called out.

Everything went black. I felt some kind of sheet go over my head and torso. Before I could react, I was pushed forward against the car and I hit my head hard. The pain shot through my skull and I lost my train of thought. I felt my arms get tied behind my back. My survival instincts kicked in and I started thrashing, but then I felt a swift kick against the back of my knee. The pain was so great my leg collapsed under me. Before I hit the ground, I felt a sharp pinch in my neck, like a bug bite. Then I felt my limbs go limp. I was picked up and dragged. My head was hurting like crazy, and I couldn’t move my arms, and I felt myself being stuffed into the trunk of my car. I was getting dizzy. Oh fuck, what’s happening to me?!

…

“Wakey wakey, faggot!” I heard Cliff’s voice spit down at me. I opened my eyes, which felt as dry as my throat. Cliff?! What the fuck was going on? I couldn’t speak, and I realized I couldn’t move. My arms were bound behind me, and my legs were also tied up. I couldn’t turn my head to see where I was.

“What the FUCK is going on?!” My voice cracked.

His nostrils were flaring and he brought his arm up in a fist. I winced and let out a small moan. He started laughing with an evil grin.

“P-Please,” I was ashamed to cry but I couldn’t help myself, “Please don’t hurt me!”

He stood up. From this angle, he looked like a giant. And I noticed that he only wore his muscle shirt from earlier. Otherwise, he was naked: no pants, no underwear, just his large cock and balls hanging freely in my line of vision. In his hand he held a dirty sock and a roll of duck tape.

“I know you want this cock real bad,” He grabbed it, “All the faggots do, but none of them get it. You don’t deserve to taste a real man’s meat.”

What the fuck is going on? I’m not even gay, what the fuck?!

Before I could say anything, I felt him give a quick stiff kick straight to my balls. I screamed out from the blinding pain, and while my mouth was open, he stuffed the sock into it. I started gagging on the taste; pure foot sweat, but I couldn’t spit it out before sticking a strip of tape on me. I could only breath through my nose.

“You can’t see yourself right now,” He had his hands on his hips, “but I’ve made a nice little set up for you. You’re tied down in my special recliner; your body’s sticking out under the front, and your face is just poking through the hole in the seat.”

What? I’m tied up in a chair? What the fuck is going on?! My head was spinning from the pain.

Then, he turned around. His giant ass was facing me, the top cut off by the bottom of his shirt. Like I said, he was a gym rat, and his butt cheeks were like two giant globes. They were covered in brown hair, which got thicker and thicker near the crack. I could smell his disgusting unwashed sweat from here…locker room ass…with a faint ball sweat lingering in the background.

It seemed to get bigger. My eyes widened; he was about to sit on my face! I was crying out; my voice muffled by the sock, but then his cheeks spread apart and I saw the thick jungle of ass crack hair that swirled around his puckered pink hole. He rested down on my face. Everything went dark.

The smell was abhorrent. Thick, hot, ass funk was all I could smell. And I felt him move around a bit until the tip of my nose was poking up the ring of his asshole. I was gagging, from the ass sweat that was sticky onto my face, from the taste of the old sock…I started to sweat from his body’s heat and the heat of this place. Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?!

“You wouldn’t believe how happy I was,” His voice boomed above me, “When I heard you were going camping near these parts. See, I come up here all the time.” He leaned back and somehow I felt my face dig deeper into his ass crack. I started screaming as loud as I could, even though my mouth was taped shut.

Then, he screamed, “SCREAM ALL YOU WANT, FAGGOT!!!” My heart jumped, he continued, his voice lowered a bit, “Because we are in the MIDDLE of NOWHERE!!! And NO ONE is going to look for you for the next TWO WEEKS!!!”

I felt tears come to my eyes again. The stench of his ass was burning my nose, and I could barely breath. There was no air down here; only ass fumes.

He continued, “Earlier, you asked me what I did for a living? This is what I do. Faggots pay to worship me. Some wanna lick my pits, some wanna drink my piss, some want me to step on them…fuck some just wanna serve me grapes. Like Julius Fucking Caesar. Think of all the faggots that wish they could serve a real man like me. Making them pay for these privileges is my way of helping out the community. But all of them, my favorite part, pay me to sit on their pathetic faces. I could tell you were one of them moment I saw you. I don’t care if you think you’re not a faggot, but you are. I can easily tell a faggot in denial. Don’t worry; I’m here to help you realize your true place in life. For the next two weeks, you’ll get to enjoy being stuffed nose first up my ass.”

This can’t be happening to me! This was too disgusting!! I tried to fight against my restraints, or at least move my face out of his ass crack, but I was completely trapped.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I heard him turn the TV on, “In my cabin, you’ll be spending all of your time in my ass. Think of it like…I’m the king, and you’re my throne. Sure, you think you hate it now, but I know for a fact that by the end of this week, you’ll be begging me to fart down your throat while you make out with my asshole. Begging me. All the faggots I find end up doing that.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This guy was a psychopath and a rapist. I didn’t care how much he hurt me; there was no way I would stoop so low that I would to something as humiliating as that.

“Speaking of farts; I get gassy a lot. And my farts smell god-awful. And I’m sick of smelling them. The only reason I even talk to faggots like you is because I know that your kind would give anything to smell them for me. So, that’s gonna your job this weekend: you are gonna sniff up every single fart I rip. And you better do a good job, because I do NOT wanna even get a hint of my own gas. Don’t make me warn you more than once, faggot.”

Without warning, he grunted and I felt his naked asshole press against the tip of my nose, and a giant eggy fart erupted out of it,

PPPPPPPPPPRPRPRPRRRRPRPRPRRRTRTRTRRT

It was the worst smell I’ve ever smelt in my life. It smelt like a carton of rotten eggs was stuffed up a dead skunk’s ass. It was so hot and thick in my nose. I was coughing and gagging and ready to throw up, trying to hold it down. God, I could die under here!

“what did I JUST say, faggot?” He yelled, “Sniff it! Sniff the whole thing!!!”

I was so afraid he’d crush my balls again, I did what he asked me. I sniffed up all of the fart. It took ten sniffs of the disgusting gas to breath it all in, and even then, the scent still lingered. I could barely breathe with my face smashed up in his ass crack.

“That’s better,” His voice was cheery, “My ass’ll be your new home. Every night, I’ll watch my shows while you suck up my farts. When I go to sleep, you’ll sleep with your face buried in my ass. I got a harness online to keep your face there, so you won’t roll over. I’ll wake you up in the mornings by letting out my morning farts. The pantry and fridge are full of egg salad and canned baked beans. My favorite foods. I’ll be ripping so much ass, you’re little fag nose won’t get enough of it.”

I heard his intestines grumble above me, and I started screaming again. This couldn’t be happening to me. This felt like a nightmare.

He ignored my screams, “After the first few days, I’ll have you lick all of the sweat off my ass cheeks and crack. This place doesn’t have a shower, so I’ll be using your tongue to clean me off. After that, I’ll let you kiss my ass cheeks and hole. Finally, during the last week, I’ll let you make out with my asshole. And I’ll be farting up your nose and down your throat. And by then, I’ll stop using toilet paper. Your tongue will be my new toilet paper. Because let’s face it; you’re useless when you aren’t snorting farts and cleaning my shitty asshole.”

I started crying again. This was pure insanity. I couldn’t even think clearly because of that last fart, and everything he was telling me was beyond belief. This guy’s been planning this evil torture for weeks…and there was no way I could call for help. I was going to be stuck in his ass…two weeks?!

“Here comes another one; get ready faggot” With another grunt, a giant fart exploded into my poor nose. I fought against the urge to get again, and this time I sniffed it up as quickly as I could. It burned my nostrils. I felt him shake with laughter above me,

“See? You’re getting the hang of it already! Fags are quick learners, after all.”

This was going to be the worst two weeks of my life. I wouldn’t stand for it. Once he let me go, I would go to the police and have him arrested. And the second I get the chance, I’ll fight him off and make a run for it. I don’t care that he’s bigger than me, I have ot try. I’ll sniff his farts for now, but I will NOT kiss his ass, I will NOT “make out” with his ass hole, I will NOT clean his disgusting ass with my tongue, and I will NEVER, NEVER beg for his farts!

…

One month later.

…

It was three in the afternoon; I sat in my grey seat at my grey desk under grey fluorescent lighting. I was tapping my pen against my grey desk. I even wore a grey shirt. But I was smiling.

It was Friday. The email gave me the address to go to at 10 pm that night.

After the office closed, I stopped into 7-11 to pick up an egg salad sandwich. Then I sat in my apartment, the TV on but I wasn’t watching it. My eyes were bouncing from the TV screen to the clock, wishing the hours would tick by faster.

I got to the apartment building at 10 pm. The email told me to wait outside the door of 307; no knocking, just wait.

I stood there, staring at my watch, tapping my toes. I was breathing heavily, licking my lips. My mouth was dry.

The door opened and a little blond faggot stepped out. He glanced at me, for a second, then immediately dropped his eyes to the floor. Sir Clifford was standing at the door, he said, “See you next week, Faggot Number 16” The blonde faggot walked down the hall in a rush, his head down.

“Egg salad! My favorite!” Sir Clifford took it from my hands. He gestured me to follow him into his apartment building. “Thanks Faggot Number 17.” My heart was beating fast and I smiled.

“I live to serve you, Sir Clifford.”

He smirked at me, his godlike figure standing next to the counter, “Why did you get me egg salad, Faggot Number 17?”

My voice was shaky, “Because it makes you fart, sir.”

“And why do you want me to fart?”

“Because it’s my job to sniff up all of your farts, sir” I could feel my faggot prick grow hard in my jeans, “And…I was hoping…you would,”

“Speak up, faggot.”

“…I was hoping you would let me make out with your asshole, sir.” I gulped. He stared down at me, a smirk growing on his face. I added, ‘P-Please Sir?”

Sir Clifford laughed at me. He took the sandwich out of the package and wolfed it down. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he said,

“Like I wrote in the email, our sessions cost $100. Show me you have that money, faggot.”

I pulled out five 20s from my pocket and held it out to him.

“Tell me exactly what you’re doing faggot.”

“I’m paying you to fart up my nose, and hopefully into my open mouth.”

He snatched the bills from my hand, “That’s what I like to hear,” His smile was beautiful.

He turned around and pulled his pants down, “I’m going to sit down and watch a movie, using you as a chair, but first I want you to thank my asshole for accepting you into my line of faggots.”

He spread his beautiful, god like ass cheeks apart, and his hole looked back at me. His globes were covered in manly hair. I imagined the scent, I imagined the sweat. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to him, stuffing my fag snout into his asshole. I kissed it, deeply, and said, “Thank you, Sir Clifford’s asshole, for letting me worship you. I know you don’t need me because you have 16 other faggots who kiss you and sniff your farts and clean you. I know I’m worthless and below you, but thank you for giving me the chance to worship you with the others. Please fart in my mouth, Sir Clifford’s asshole, it’s what I’ve been looking forward to all week!”

I made out with Sir Cliff’s asshole while he farted down my throat.

[buttsmasher]

Office Vanover - Part 4

Previous Parts: [1] [2] [3]

Word Count: 3971

Tags: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Unwilling Victim, Open Mouth Farting, Naked Mouth Fart, F Slur Usage, Eproctophilia, Gay Victim, Straight(ish) Farter, Dubious-Consent, Musky Dom, Mean Dom, (Minor) Ball Torture, Physical Threats

March 25 - 6:07 PM

I'm in my kitchen, stirring my linguini when I hear a knock on the door. For the briefest moment, I thought it was Brandon, but something about the knock seemed, hesitant. No way it could be Brandon. A few seconds pass and another round of knocking, this time a little more sure of themselves. I turn the burner off, wipe my hands on my towel, before heading towards the front door.

When I open the door, there's a slender woman with her hand raised as she's about to knock again. "Oh." She says to me in a confused tone. "I-I must have the wrong place."

"No worries." I respond and begin to close the door. She's about to turn to leave, but she stops herself.

"Do you know Brandon?"

"Vanover?"

"Yeah!" She sounds almost surprised and she bites her cheek, "I saw this address in his phone GPS and I didn't recognize it. And it's always when I'm at the gym or with my girl friends."

This is when the situation fully hits me. This is the Mrs. Vanover.

"Oh. Brandon and I work together." I'm not lying. "He's been staying on top of my workout routine and what not." Okay now I'm lying.

"Oh really? He never said anything to me." I can't pretend to imagine what she's thinking, but I know what I'm thinking and I'm panicking.

"Ye-yeah, I'm getting back into the swing of things. And I mean, you know Brandon, he's like hella built. So I had to ask him for some pointers." I ignore that sense of guilt in my stomach.

"Okay, well." She throws her hair over her shoulder. "Seeing you, I know he's not cheating. He doesn't swing that way, no offense."

"None taken?"

"I'll get out of your hair." She adjusts her purse back onto her shoulder. I don't watch as she leaves, just close the door and have a few seconds to myself to freak out.

Are things going too far? Maybe I should really stop Brandon from coming over here. I hate the idea of helping Brandon cheat on his wife, but, is he really cheating? I mean, he's literally forcing me to eat his ass and farts. And he doesn't really let me blow him.

I don't end up making a decision today.

March 26 -

"Did you tell my wife that I'm your personal trainer?" I look up and see Sgt. Vanover in my doorway.

"I-Not in those words." He looks annoyed. "She showed up at my door. What did you expect me to tell her?" His eyes narrow and he closes my office door.

"Well, if you used your head, you wouldn't have said anything." Okay, yeah, he's not in a good mood.

"Would you rather I tell her what you do? How you make me worship your ass?" He doesn't drop the glare but I see his shoulders slump. "What even is this dude." I break eye contact. "I'm not a home wrecker." I don't say anyone in particular.

"Nothing about what we're doing is cheating. I have no emotional attachment to you."

"Ouch."

"You're nothing more than a replaceable faggot." That stung.

"Then replace me." I flippantly say fed up with this situation. "I'm not living with the guilt of knowing that I'm helping you sneak around your wife."

"We'll see how long that lasts. You're so obsessed with me, you won't make it a week without my ass."

"Keep telling yourself that asshole." He'll be eating his words. "Get out." I point at the door. "If you need technical assistance, you may call me. Other than that, leave me alone."

He gives me a final glare down, but he leaves my office without any issue.

March 28 - 7:00 PM

I'm watching some stupid YouTube video when I hear my phone buzz. Just a notification that a number I don't have saved sent me a video attachment. I press the notification, where a security footage video of the Police Gym has been saved. It's a video of Brandon doing barbell squats, clearly zoomed in on his ass every time he squats.

Look, his ass may be responsible for destroying my sense of smell lately, but it's still an amazing ass. And if my dick takes interest, that's no ones business. I still have two pairs of musky boxers that belong to Brandon, and I use that to my advantage.

While watching the prick do a squat, I'd take a large inhale of his boxers. The musk overwhelms my brain and it isn't long before I have my tongue out and stroking my dong like a crazed gooner. Fuck, the way his ass hugs those gym shorts should be illegal. Stroke, sniff, stroke, sniff, stroke, sniff, over and over again. It doesn't take much, before I'm shooting my load across myself and the floor.

Maybe this will be harder than I thought?

March 29 - 8:00 PM

Brandon didn't show up this weekend. Which, I can't be mad because I did tell him to replace me. I don't know, I thought maybe he would show up anyway.

I don't worry about it too much. I just put that gym video back on, on repeat this time, and crank my hog for a good piece of the night.

March 30 - 6:28 AM

I arrive to the Police Department before my shift. I'm not sure what I'm doing or feeling, but my feet are moving on their own. If it's a normal day, Brandon should already be down at the gym doing his workout. I get to the open door and, as I thought, Brandon was there. He's wearing some thin gym shorts that don't leave much to the imagination.

Not even here for 30 seconds and I'm already staring at his ass as he squats. He catches my eye when he looks up to the mirror. He gives me the shittiest grin I've ever seen and I'm immediately annoyed. I'm about to turn back around and leave when he racks the barbell.

"Well, well, well, the fag couldn't stay away." I roll my eyes as he saunters his way to me. Yeah, those gym shorts, are not shy at all. Brandon's meaty bulge is on full display and there's so much saliva in my mouth. "What do you want?" He crosses his arms.

"I got the security footage." I say, doing my best to sound unimpressed, but Brandon doesn't seem to follow. "You know, of you working out?"

"What?" At that, I pull out my phone and show him the video. He watches it for a bit, and I see him starting to get angry. "What the hell." He grabs my phone from my hand and starts tapping.

"Whoa wait." I try to grab my phone back but he moves away as he grabs his phone.

"Fucking asshole." He's staring at his phone.

"You figure out who sent it."

"Hanford." I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course it was that asshole.

"Oh." I say still trying to act unimpressed. "Well, thanks for the fun weekend." I give Brandon a wink and I'm about to leave but he grabs the back of my shirt, and I almost trip over myself.

"You don't get to have fun at my expense." He said with the most genuine anger I've seen from him.

"I-" I don't get to finish the sentence, as he pulls me towards the locker room. "Wait-wait-wait." I say as we get closer, but he's not paying attention.

"My wife had to put up with my gas all weekend, and you were fagging out watching me workout. You're lucky I don't beat your ass." He flings me into the locker room, and as I'm turning around he slams the door shut and locks it. "Knees. Now." He says through gritted teeth.

"No," I cross my arms. "Let me leave or I'm going to HR." This doesn't even phase him. Instead, he grabs my midsection and wrestles me down onto the ground. With his height and weight advantage, there's no way I'm overpowering him. He has me pinned down, my face trapped inside the crack of his gym shorts while my head is pressed against the concrete floor.

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His hands are holding my knees down as he bombs my face.

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There's no mercy coming from Brandon's ass. These have to be the worst smelling farts he's fed me because I'm immediately struggling to breathe.

"Fuck you, you dumb fucking faggot." He flicks my balls forcing me to gasp for air.

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"You should be fucking thanking me. And all you do is fucking bitch."

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"Stop!" My scream is muffled by his ass.

"Shut the fuck up!" He flicks my balls again.

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"You're going to take every single one of my farts." He lifts and slams his ass down onto my face for emphasis. "And you better fucking say thank you."

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There's no way in hell I'm thanking him for this torture. But there's no way I'm getting out of this, easily anyways.

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"Say it!"

"Fuck you!"

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"Say it, faggot!" He yells.

"FUCK. YOU." I respond back.

In my horror, he grabs my balls with his right hand. "Say it, or I'm crushing them." He already has them in an uncomfortable grip and he slightly squeezes showing his intent.

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A few seconds go by and I feel the pressure get tighter. "Fu-fu-fuck! Fine, fuck! Thank you!"

"Not good enough." He squeezes and I let out a startled yelp as pain starts radiating throughout my body.

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He rips another long fart, this time straight into my mouth. "Say it." My whole body bucks against him as the pressure against my balls start again.

"Fuck, okay okay! Fuck! Thank you, fuck! Sir thank you for farting on my face." I rush to get out and the pressure around my balls release.

"Good faggot. Your place is in my ass." He grinds his ass down on me. "Don't fucking forget it."

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"Thank you sir!" I say through the tears free flowing. My whole body is feeling wrecked, and all I can smell and taste is ass.

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"Fuuck." I hear Brandon moan.

"Thank you sir!"

"Fuck you." He responds back while grunting.

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"Th-Thank you!" I'm struggling to breathe. There's no ignoring it now, I need to breathe actual oxygen.

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"Air." I gasp but Brandon doesn't respond. "Please."

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"Where are my thank yous faggot?" I don't have the energy to keep going. I feel my arm fall limp next to me as I'm being crushed by Brandon's weight. "Yo!" He swats my leg, but my brain is fried. All I can smell and feel is Brandon's rancid gas destroying me. My head is spinning when Brandon finally gets off me.

It takes a few moments, and a few smacks from Brandon and I'm back. "Fuck." Is what I manage to say.

"I didn't even take my shorts off. You're pretty pathetic. I'm surprised you can even call yourself a man." He adjusts the sizable bulge in his shorts.

"Fuck off." I give him a middle finger as I get back to my feet. "Go to hell." I go to leave the locker room, but I'm wobbly on my feet and I end up tripping over myself. To my surprise though, Brandon catches me and helps me back onto my feet.

"I'll meet you there faggot." He gives my ass a hard slap. "Let me make things clear again for you. I am the man here. If I want you on your knees begging for my ass, then you better beg the hardest you ever have." He grabs the front of my shirt. "And don't fucking talk to my wife again."

I stand in silence as I listen to the words over and over in my head. Instead of responding, I limp over to the exit, loudly unlatch the door and throw it open. "Whatever." Is the last thing I say, before heading to my car and leaving.

I end up calling sick for the day.

March 30 - 1:44 PM

I've showered twice and brushed my teeth probably 10 times. The taste and smell of Brandon is still lingering on me. It's to the point I was researching online to try and find a way to get rid of the smell, but the only thing I'm finding is using tomato juice for Stunk sprays. Maybe I should just fill the tub with tomato juice and submerge myself.

I don't get to ponder the thought for long when there's a loud knock on my door. No doubt Brandon, based on the pattern of knock. I ignore him and go to my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I pop in my Beats and start blasting music to drown out the knocking.

I'm startled however when my bedroom door is thrown open. There's two seconds of me and Brandon staring at each other. "How the fuck?!" I yell at him pulling out my ear buds.

"Standard issue lock pick set." He shows the metal bits in his hands. "Stop being a pussy." He closes the door, but doesn't come any closer.

"I'm not being a pussy." I throw myself off the bed and I get into Brandon's space. "You're an ass, and I'm trying to limit my time around assholes." I poke him in the chest for emphasis, but he just looks annoyed. It doesn't help that he has a weight and height advantage over me.

"Are you done?"

"Fuck you Brandon. I'm not done." I poke his chest again, this time though he grabs my hand tightly. "Let go."

"Are you going to keep jabbing me?"

"If it's necessary." I use the other hand to jab him.

"You're a fucking baby. Grow up."

"Grow up?! What are you on?! You're the one who shows up unannounced. And to what? Sit and fart on my face? What the fuck is your problem?" He's just watching me unamused as I rant. "Who the fuck even does shit like that. It's disgusting, and I'm tired of playing like it's not. Your ass is disgusting, and frankly the amount of gas you have at any given time should worry a doctor."

"God, can you just shut up." He says as he glances at his watch. "You are so annoying." He pushes me, and I go stumbling back towards my bed. I manage to catch my balance before fully falling onto my bed, but as I'm adjusting, he pushes me again and I fully fall onto my bed. I hear his belt unclick and then the telltale sign of his pants and gear hitting the ground.

I go to roll off the bed away from Brandon, but he grabs my shirt. I attempt to twist out of the shirt and slip out, making a dash to the bedroom door. I don't make it though, Brandon grabs my midsection and ends up slamming me back onto the bed. From there we are wrestling around, but with Brandon's height and weight advantage, I end up getting pinned against the bed.

He's sitting on my chest and holding my arms to my side, both of us panting. "Please." I know there is no mercy in Brandon.

"Shut up." Brandon makes a show of taking off his uniform shirt and then the tee shirt underneath. He runs his hands down his body and my eyes track the movement to his groin, where he adjusts his bulge. He puts a hand on my shoulder before lifting his weight off me. I entertain the idea of trying to run or buck again, but he plops down on my face, his black underwear blocking out my view.

He still smells musky, but not as bad as his usual.

"I don't think you understand faggot. This is your role, as my personal throne and fart sniffer. Your job is to filter out my gas and thank me for my godly farts. Anything past that isn't my business." He grunts and lets out a nasty 10 second fart.

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"Breathe it in faggot." He leans forward and then back making my nose poke into his smelly crack over and over again.

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"Breathe faggot!" I hear the anger in his voice, and it's enough to convince me to take an inhale of the toxic fumes. Immediately, the stench burns my nose and is making me gag and cough while still being trapped in his ass. "Good boy. Here we go, sniff in 5-4-3-2-1." I time my inhale with the disgusting barrage of gas that hits my nose.

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It honestly feels like my nose hairs are being singed off as the gas makes it's way into my lungs. "I should be hearing thank yous." He says as he's grinding his crack along my nose and face.

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"Fuuck." Brandon moans and he slaps my leg. "Say it bitch."

"Fuck you Brandon." I say in between coughs.

"Your funeral." It feels like his whole body shrugs. "You're not getting any mercy from me." Not like he was showing me any in the first place. I feel him moving to release the next round of farts on me, when he flicks my crotch. I yell out, and he uses that time to really press his ass down against my face.

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Two loud and long farts forced down my throat. The taste is unbearable, and immediately I feel myself convulsing and bile trying to leave my stomach. But it doesn't make it anywhere and I'm forced to swallow down another fart with the bile. "Fuck, that must've sucked."

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Airy after airy fart keeps getting blown down my throat, making sure the only thing I'm tasting is his guts. "Fuck those are rough." He grinds his hips on my face. "I know you're loving this faggot." He gives my side a pat.

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I wish I could throw up on him to show that I'm in fact not loving this. But right now I'm just trying to focus on surviving this encounter.

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"Holy fuck." Brandon sounds out of breath as I breathe in the volley of farts. "Good luck taking those." My arms are feeling weak, but I manage to give him the middle finger. "Oh no, fuck you my friend." He lifts himself off me and pulls his boxers underneath his bare ass. "You haven't had nothing yet." As his ass starts to lower on my face again, I try to twist away, but his fat ass plops down on my face directly. I keep trying to twist and kick, but my face is stuck underneath his weight. "Seriously? Where do you think you're going?"

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I'm always so unprepared for how much worse his farts smell when there isn't a layer of fabric in my face. My nose pokes into his unclothed hole and he's blowing gas straight down my nose.

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There's nothing I can do, I'm trapped, and all I can smell is Brandon's musk and farts. It's hot and sweaty and I'm trapped in Brandon's ass.

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Fuck the smell is so fucking bad, I can't fucking breathe. The world is spinning around me and I feel like I'm falling, and my body bucks against Brandon.

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He uses his weight to hold me down and force more farts up my nose. At this point, I don't think it matters anymore though. All I can smell, taste, and feel is Brandon's gas. Everything in my body feels like it's straining and I'm struggling to breathe.

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I unwillingly breathe in the bombs, but it doesn't bring any relief. Brandon is shaking his ass and making my head bounce between his ass cheeks when the thought that he may kill me with his gas hits me. I can feel myself vibrating at the same time I'm losing feeling in my feet.

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"Why aren't you sniffing my godly farts!?" Brandon yells as he flicks my crotch again. I convulse, but immediately after I feel my body go limp against the bed.

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"Fuck. You." I still manage. He lifts up and for a moment, I think I'm saved, but then he slams back down hard.

"Fuck you faggot. This is all you're good for. Just a fart cushion for a GOD." He's grinding his crack against my nose again, and I swear I can feel him flexing his arms above me.

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"Fucking sniff or I'm ripping your balls off." I start inhaling before he even farts.

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"Fuck yes. Breathe that shit in, let it fry that little faggot brain of yours." I gag against his naked ass, but let the smell radiate throughout my body. "Breathe." Again I inhale.

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30 seconds of pure alpha gas is forced into my nostrils and that's where everything goes black. I feel like I'm floating in space and everything is miles away. I still hear Brandon's farts ringing out from his hole, but, it doesn't feel like I'm here anymore.

The smell is still hitting me, over and over again, but it doesn't seem as bad as before. My limbs eventually fall limp to my sides and I'm out.

When I wake up the few minutes later, I'm extremely groggy. Brandon is naked standing next to the bed and quickly masturbating his thick dong. I go to sit up, but his hand forces me back down and before I can complain, he's straddling my chest. He sits down and slaps his cock on my face over and over. "Good for nothing faggot." His cock slaps my face three more times before he starts stroking again. "Can't even handle my gas. Fucking pathetic ass faggot." He roughly grabs my chin and starts to shoot his load over my face. He ends up shooting several loads onto my face, likely not leaving a surface free of cum.

After he finishes shooting his large load, he grabs his clothing off the floor and starts putting them back on. I actually manage to sit up this time and the room is spinning. My head is pounding and everything feels sticky or gross. I make eye contact with Brandon, he gives me a shit eating grin and flexes in front me. "You're welcome. You've just been blessed by a god."

"More like the devil."

"Let's be clear here. You're my faggot." Brandon says as he buttons his shirt. "I take what I want. You give what I want." Yes the words he just said are kind of fucked up. But he did just say, I'm his faggot. And I don't know why, but that makes my heart skip.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you, faggot." He responds back, as he readjusts his bulge into his pants and clips his belt back on. "Next time I get here, you better be on your knees waiting for me." I watch as Brandon leaves my room and listen for the apartment door to open and shut.

Almost as soon as the door is shut, I'm in the bathroom assessing the damage. I'm red and splotchy, but it's mostly just cum all over my face. I ignore the thought in my head to just eat it, and wash my face and brush my teeth probably 5 times in a row.

When I get back to my bed, there's a text from an unknown number waiting. "6:30 AM, Police Gym Locker Room. You better be on your knees when I get there. -B"

Well, looks like I have plans for tomorrow.

[anonbubbles-deactivated20190829]

My New Stepfather Part 2

Sorry for the long hiatus. Hope people remember what happened in part one and enjoy part two even more.

Brian reached over my face to untie my bound hands from the bed board, pressing his damp armpits onto my face in the process. I lied there defenselessly staring up into the dark hairy stink as I slowly felt the binds on my wrists loosen. I was being freed, though in reality I was actually only being moved from one cage to the next. In the first cage I was a boy tied to a bed while his stepfather ripped ass all over his face. In the new cage I’m going to see a boy with no choice but to wrestle his buff stepfather who to which I will inevitably lose to.

Brian placed his other armpit right onto my stink covered face as he began to untie my other arm. His moist blond hairs ticked my nose forcing me to scrunch my face and inhale more of my stepfather’s stench.

After finishing my second arm Brian lifted his pit off my face. We made eye contact only for Brian to deviously smirk and wink at me cockily. As Brain began to unite my legs my mind wandered again. Brian had said that he still had more gas but he put on the singlet to wrestle so that means he wants to wrestle but he still has plans to fart on me again. Oh god why does he still want to fart on me? Hasn’t this been torture enough?? Involuntarily I began to gag as I remembered the stench and pure raunch of Brian’s gas.

“HA HA HA you excited to wrestle your Daddy and suck up some more gas son?!” Brian said as he finished my second leg and rose off the bed. I stared up at him in fear and slowly began to slide off the bed. Once standing I was at eye level with Brian’s pecs. I knew that he was a big guy but only now did he seem so massive to me. The dominance he exerted and the control that he demanded over me made me feel dwarfed in comparison to him. In only a matter of hours my stepfather had gone from a simple figure in my life that I usually ignored to my master… my owner… my Daddy as he so gleefully called himself. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes anymore. Brian had completely degraded me and I had no choice but to continue on with his sadistic humiliation. If I tried to fight or run he would easily stop me, punish me, and even worse extend our trip. There is no way out he has me right where he wants me and I can’t do anything about it.

Brian laughed louder than before “ HA HA YEAAAA boi I know you’re ready!” With that, Brian walked a few paces back in the room and sort of half squatted himself down into a wrestlers pose. Ugh this guy was a wrestling champion back when he was in high school and here I am not even knowing the first clue about wrestling. There was no way I could win and the huge evil smirk on his face just proved that he knew it too.

“You ready my boy?” Brian questioned, in an amped up excited voice. I “Mrphhheddd” an answer while shaking my head and then went to remove the tape from my mouth to give him an actual answer. Before I could even get my hand halfway up to my face though Brian was already on me. His entire body wrapped around mine and we both fell to the floor. He had my face pressed into the soft carpeted floor of the bedroom with my right arm twisted behind my back. As I struggled in pain my stepfathers hot heavy breath spoke into my ear “OHHH ho ho Ho noooo son you gotta keep my dirty jock strap in your mouth! It’s got a lot more marinating to do in there before you’ve fully cleaned it. So you enjoy it now boy!” I moaned in displeasure knowing that his disgusting sweat pouch would remain trapped in my mouth.

Brian laughed as he readjusted himself so that I was now pinned beneath him. He pinned both of my arms above my head on the floor with his arms and stared me right in the eyes. There was a glimmer of pure joy in them as he began to slowly drip a long stream of saliva down towards my face. I struggled furiously as my stepfathers saliva made it’s way down to my face, though thankfully right before it hit he slurped it all back up. Brian exploded with laughter “ You should have seen the look in your eyes! Is that what you look like when I’m giving you my farts?! Nooooo, it can’t be! Cause I know that you LOOOOooooOoOOOooooOoovvvveeeee Daddy’s gas.”

Almost ceremoniously after Brian finished stating how much I loved his gas his stomach began to gurgle and he rose up off me. Rapidly, Brian twisted my entire body and rolled me so that I was trapped between his crossed legs. My face was pressed into his damp singlet clad ass as his thighs squished my neck. I knew this was it, as much as I tried to calm myself down I couldn’t , I knew that it was about to begin again. I tried everything I could to escape my stepfathers giant bubble butt but I couldn’t there was no way out of this.

“Love you son. Probably almost more than you love Daddy’s farts!” And with that Brian erupted. A gaseous beast was unleashed on my face. The monstrous stink invaded my nostrils immediately bringing tears to my eyes. The fart went on for what felt like hours , vibrating my entire face against my disgusting stepfathers butt crack. I could hear Brian laughing as I suffered so intensely. He didn’t just love farting on my face. He didn’t just love that I hated it so much. He loved doing it, he loved my disgust and suffering, he loved acting like I loved every ounce of his stink and using his dominance to force me to endure it.

“How’s that smell son! Take deep breaths! Remember this is for you!” Brian shouted as another fart found its way out of his butthole and right into my nostrils. Once again the stench burned, but I inhaled. I inhaled as deeply as my body would allow me to. I knew I had to please him. I couldn’t stay here more than a week, it still was only our first day here and I was completely destroyed. I don’t know how I am going to survive this whole week there is no way I could survive more than tha-

My thoughts were interrupted as Brian crossed his thighs tighter completely squishing my neck and forcing my face deeper into his ass. I heard him groan with relief from above me and than I was slapped in the face again with a gurgling wet fart. I felt the thin layer of the singlet that separated my face from his cavernous butt crack grow damper. I couldn’t tell if it was wet from the amount of sweat he had accumulated between his cheeks or if it was his ass juices slowly seeping there way into my pores forever marking me with the stench of my Stepfather’s butt crack. Either way the smell was only grower more poisonous.

Brian began to monologue above me while continuing to unleash terror onto my face.

“Ya know Cole I think you and I have a pretty special father son bond going on here”

A long hiss came streaming out of Brian’s butt filling my entire body with the rank stench of rotten eggs.

“I mean what other Daddy do you know would be so accepting of his sons peculiar fetish?”

A loud quick duck quack sounding fart bursted onto my face, Brian twisting his hip to let it out.

“I have been so kind and loving to you. Really helping you get what you love.”

Another sonic boom fart popped out of him hitting me square in the face.

“I really am the best Daddy in the whole entire world aren’t I?”

Brian genuinely sounded like he was happy with himself. It was crazy it was almost like a part of him had actually convinced himself that I loved his farts. I knew that he knew it wasn’t true, but I think it was just more satisfying for him to fart on an unwilling victim and add an extra layer to the torture by pretending like this was what his victim actually wanted. That he was being so kind and helping me.

I felt his muscular legs uncoiling themselves from around my body, his Python like thighs released my neck and I immediately pushed myself out of Brian’s butt. I Inhaled the fresh air rapidly. Catching my breath through my two small nostril holes as quickly as I could. Brian stilly laying down on the floor bubble butt up cocked his neck around and looked at me with a frat boy like smile. “You’re welcome Son.”

Brian began to stand his massive globes jiggling in his singlet as he stood. I remained on the floor panting on my hands and knees. I was mortified, sick to my stomach but I knew we couldn’t be done.

“Alright son, we should hit the hay I got a big day for us planned tomorrow and it’s almost midnight”. Midnight?! What?! How long have we been doing this?? How long has he been farting on my face?

Brian grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet. I tried to Yelp in pain but I was still muffled by his sweaty jock. Once I was fully up Brian spoke again. “Okay so you’ll sleep with Daddy while we’re here just cause I need to make sure you don’t misbehave son. Get into your pjs and then meet me in the master bedroom.” With that, Brian strode confidently out of his childhood bedroom his cheeks bouncing as he exited. I stood there for a moment paralyzed in fear but then immediately burst into action. I shuffled through the back I brought and quickly changed into my pajamas. As I was moving and changing I had almost an out of body experience. Watching myself quickly comply with what my sadistic disgusting stepfather demanded I was horrified. Why was I not trying to escape or call my mother. Why wasn’t I at least taking my time before returning to the ultimate torture.

He broke me… I could see it. He completely owned me and I knew that there was no way of escaping my fart torture, the only thing I could do was be a good son and hopefully not get punished. If I inhaled every fart, if I did everything he demanded the faster this could all end and we could go home. Suddenly I snapped back to my body early falling down from the whiplash. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks…what if this doesn’t end when we go back home? What if he always finds a way? What if I’m just Daddy’s little fart boy for the rest of my life?!

From down the hall he called “Colllleeeee, Daddy is waiting for you!”

I slowly shuffled down the hall and stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom. Brian stood in front of the mirror in only a lose pair of grey boxers flexing and posing for himself. He noticed me out of the corner of his eye and greeted me with a shit eating grin and a massive belch. He slowly brought his lips to an O shape and blew his burp at me in such a “bro-ly” way. I entered the room faintly smelling his burp and other forms of stink all around me. Brian shocked me out of nowhere when he ripped the duct tape off of my mouth aggressively. I shouted out in pain and his old never washed jock strap fell from my mouth onto the floor with a splat. The once crusty dirty stained pouch was now completely soaked with my saliva . Brian looked down at his balled up jock strap and began to nod his head slowly with approval. “Nice job son! You got that shit pretty damn clean!” He seemed excited at my so called “cleaning”.

Brian picked up the jock strap with his toes and threw it up in the air. He caught it easily and then walked over to a dresser and put it in a drawer. As he turned back towards me he scrunched his face and gave me a chill look “we’ll let it air dry… Anyways sorry to take that away from you, but I just needed to talk to you before we went to bed. I was thinking that tonight and maybe every night you could sleep completely under the covers. This way my ass and farts can give you some nice TLC allllll nighhhhtttt looooonnggg”

I was horrified but this time I wasn’t defenseless I had my voice my words. I had a chance to get out of this but I needed to be smart I needed to be carful. I took a beat to collect my thoughts and tried my best to get out of this week long Dutch oven proposal.

“Oh..” My voice cracked.

“Thank you so much for thinking of me Daddy, but I think I would rather just sleep above the covers. Don’t want to just take your gas for granted because I’ll be sleeping ha ha” I tried my best to sound as happy and chill as possible but I knew as soon as I finished speaking I didn’t impress Brian. His face grew dark and stern, and he spoke with a slight touch of anger.

“Oh yea you’re probably right Cole. Though maybe we should just extend our trip for a couple more weeks so you really learn to not take Daddy’s gas for granted.”

Oh my god he was pure evil. There was no way to beat him.

“I’m so sorry Daddy no I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I would rather sleep under the covers right by your farting butt every night this week!” I couldn’t believe the words spilling out of my mouth.

Brian chuckled slightly “Beg me to give you a Dutch oven every night.” He spoke so charmingly but his words were far from charming.

I wanted to cry. There was no way in hell I wanted to spend every night getting a Dutch oven from my stepfather but that was my only option. So, just like farts being released out of Brian’s butt and up my nose the words released from my lips.

“Please Daddy! Please give me a Dutch oven every night on our trip! I want get to smell your farts all night! Please fart on me while you sleep! Please trap me in a fart bubble under the covers! Please!”

The words just poured out of me and Brian laughed. He laughed the hardest I’ve ever seen him laugh. He had tears in his eyes and he just couldn’t stop. He laughed at how dumb and pathetic I sounded. He laughed at all of the gross nights he just forced me to beg to endure. Finally once he was just down to some quiet giggles while catching his breath and wiping his eyes he spoke again.

“Alright Coley boy, time to get some sleep” he said with a giant grin on his face as pulled down the covers on one side of the bed exposing the my resting place for the night. I slowly climbed into the bed and laid on my side in almost a fetal pose waiting for my stepfather’s boxer covered butt to present itself to me.

“Wait right there son!” Brian said as he quickly jogged out of the room. I sat up a bit a listened intently as I heard him rummaging around in a room down the hall. What new and disgusting torture could he be cooking up now. Brian jogged back into the room smiling wide. He had two things in his hand, but before I had the chance to react he kept onto the bed punching in me playfully. He laughed as he stretched a pair of his underwear above my face. “Sorry, had to get these out of my suitcase. Wore these to the gym every single day last week and I brought them here special for you”

Small pleas began to escape my mouth but faster than I could form a sentence Brian began stuffing the white briefs into my mouth. Once again I tasted his sweat and stink, but unlike his jockstrap which had no cloth that covered his butt these underwear had definitely been up close and personal with Brian’s ass, trust me I could tell. He continued shoving the dirty underwear into my mouth until they were completely in. My cheeks were bulged out like a hamsters trying to contain Brian’s nasty briefs . I began to gag trying to get them out of my mouth but just as quickly as he had shoved the underwear in my mouth Brian had tapped my mouth shut.

Brian smiled down at me and slapped my hamster like cheeks lightly. “Lookin good there bud aren’t ya hahaha!” He looked so blissfully happy and I could only imagine how I looked in comparison. Mouth stuffed with dirty underwear, cheeks bulging, my face probably all red and sweaty from being stuffed into his ass cheeks over and over again. I bet I looked pathetic but Brian just kept smiling down at me gleefully happy at how pathetic he had made me look. I desperately wanted to run as he slightly moved up off me and lied down right next to me. His butt right next to my head that if I were to just look to the left-

Brian once again interrupted my thoughts by grabbing a fistful if my hair and shoving me face first into his boxer clad ass. My nose shot right into his ass cheeks due to how silky and loose the boxers were. My nose was assaulted by his ass stink as the covers cascaded over me sealing me in my fart bubble for at least the next eight hours. Brian released my hair from his grip and spoke “don’t let me catch you moving around to much tonight. I want you in my ass cheeks all night boy. So don’t move and have sweet dreams son, maybe tomorrow you’ll finally get to meet my bare cheeks HAHAHA”

My stomach turned at his final statement but it was about to turn a whole lot more as Brian began to fart and fart and fart all night long.

[anonbubbles-deactivated20190829]

Camping with Dad

I was trapped. The toxic air grew damp around me and still he would not let me escape. . . . My father had always been an outdoors type of guy. He loved to camp and fish and hike. He was the most masculine man I’d ever known, probably that anyone’s ever known. Oh and he knew it absolutely. My dad loved to display his dominance over any other male around him. The thing about my dad and I is that we’re not that close. I never enjoyed his manly outdoor activities and that seemed to disappoint him enough. The most time we ever spent together was whenever he felt like torturing me. He would find me wherever I was and inflict that days choice of punishment. Often times he just liked to wrestle me down and hold me in a few humiliating pins. Head scissor with my face firmly pressed into his damp gym shorts clad ass. Headlocks where he ensure I got a face full of sweaty armpit. The list goes on and on, I guess all I’m trying to say is that essentially my father and i’s relationship was just me being his bitch boy. So that’s exactly why I was so cautious when he announced to our family that he and I would be leaving together on a camping trip for two weeks for my 19th birthday. My step- mother who at this point cared more about her next vacation just nodded along as she continued typing on her laptop and making a phone call at the same time. My step brother Noah who was home from his third year of college on break perked up at the prospect of a camping trip but my father told him that he can come next time, this trip was going to be a special trip for just me and my father.

Flash forward to the day of the camping trip and my dad was pretty quiet. He was silent the entire drive up to the site and now that we’re here he sent me off to get fire wood so he could build our tent alone. I was already dying to go home by the time I brought the fire wood back. It was so humid out and the mosquitoes just wouldn’t stop biting. My dad had put our tent up but it was a little odd looking. First off the thing looked like a miniature tent I didn’t see how he expected us to fit in there comfortably. And secondly it didn’t have the usual zippers that most tents do, it had a little plastic door on the side that my dad had to use a special card to unlock. These kind of weird camping gadgets were pretty normal for my dad though. All throughout dinner my dad remained pretty quiet. I didn’t have much to say either though so I stayed pretty focused on my food. My dad pack a shit ton of canned beans, Brussels sprouts, chili, and hot dogs, and that’s it. He knows that I really don’t care for most of those foods either. Happy birthday to me right? I fished eating first and went to go pee. Once I returned my dad had another entire plate of food a didn’t show any signs of stopping. He looked up at me and then over to our tent. I filled his eyes and saw the door was now open. He stood up quickly and began guiding me to the tent. “Get in there now” he said sternly, kind of scaring me a bit. He shoved me through the plastic door and sealed it behind me. What kind of stupid tent let’s you lock anyone in? Unfortunately I wasn’t alone in the tent, confined in the small space with me were my dads running sneakers and disgusting wet socks. About a half hour passed and I began to get hot in the tent. I remember dozing off and then waking up to take my shirt and jeans off. I stripped to my boxers and glanced through the fabric of the tent. I could see the silhouette of my father still eating food next to the camp fire. I let out a frustrated sigh and found a comfortable position in the tent. I accidentally found myself face to face with one of my dads drenched socks but I’ve been there before so it wasn’t anything more that a minor annoyance. I couldn’t tell you how much time had passed but eventually I woke to pressure on my face. It was wet and hairy…oh my god the stench, it was worse than anything I had ever endured. I knew that was it was. My fathers bare ass was spread across my face. And on top of all of that he began to rip fart after fart on my burning nostrils. I fought for him to release me but he held me down tightly. He let out a manly laugh as he smeared his hairy swampy bubble butt up and down my face. I remember crying out for air only for a massive wet fart to shoot me right between the eyes. Ugh I was at his complete mercy. “Beg me for more.” That’s all that he said as he rose up from my face ever so slightly. I stared up at my fathers rugged smirking face. “Beg me for more” I remember barely getting the words out of my mouth and then he slammed his billowing cheeks back down on my now sweat smeared face. Fart after fart wrecked havoc on my poor soul and all my father was doing was laughing. Enjoying the complete humiliation of his son. Basking in the fact that he is a man and his son is his fart bitch. Finally my dad spoke again all the while releasing a soft quiet stream of gas on to my face. It was warm and I could feel it blowing on me. The stench was much like dirty man and I began to gag. “Inhale boy and I’ll get off your face!” I let out a small whimper not wanting to inhale any of his gas willingly. “I said inhale! Or else your face’ll be married to my sweaty crack tonight!” Immediately following his statement I began to inhale through my nose to the best of my ability. My willing nose was now bombarded my my fathers hot humid heavy farts. He one was again smeared his ass back on my face. The two squishing together with sweat and hair as the met. All the while my father saying something along the lines of “Ahh ya that’s right boy. No farts wasted. Suck em up sissy” I willingly inhaled my dads gas for a bit until finally he rose up off me and released me from my stink prison. He still stood above me and skilled down at me as I Vaughn’s and began to wipe my face. God It was incredibly hot. I can still feel the sweat on my face and my fathers hairy ass. My palms slid on the fabric of the tent as I tried to get up. My dad climbed around me and began to lay down. “Best get comfy. We’re sealed in for the night.” He punctuated that sentence with a massive fart. I watched as his cheeks jiggled to allow his gassy monster escape only for the smell to immediately find my nose. I audibly gagged at the unexpected extra supply of gas slamming into my nostrils. “HAHA. Got a good snout on ya boy!” My dad exclaimed giving me a wink. The smell within the tent was atrocious. Oh god I can still smell it. Every fart he released had nowhere to go. All that has stayed trapped in there with us. I begged for mercy. I offered him everything I owned. Anything just for him to stop this. All my dad did was laugh in my face wrestle me down so that his body cooled around mine and we were face to face. He began to talk to me real close allowing his shitty breath the suffocate me. “Ask me to stop one more time and I will strap your face in my ass for the rest of the trip.” I immediately stopped my whining and tried to sleep. My father fell asleep soon after that but his farts did not. Most kids have dads who snore, but my dad releases onslaughts of swampy farts all night instead. All night…all night for me to suffer with. All night until he was ready to take me on a hike with my face strapped into his ass first thing in the morning.

[anonbubbles-deactivated20190829]

My New Stepfather Part 2

Sorry for the long hiatus. Hope people remember what happened in part one and enjoy part two even more.

Brian reached over my face to untie my bound hands from the bed board, pressing his damp armpits onto my face in the process. I lied there defenselessly staring up into the dark hairy stink as I slowly felt the binds on my wrists loosen. I was being freed, though in reality I was actually only being moved from one cage to the next. In the first cage I was a boy tied to a bed while his stepfather ripped ass all over his face. In the new cage I’m going to see a boy with no choice but to wrestle his buff stepfather who to which I will inevitably lose to.

Brian placed his other armpit right onto my stink covered face as he began to untie my other arm. His moist blond hairs ticked my nose forcing me to scrunch my face and inhale more of my stepfather’s stench.

After finishing my second arm Brian lifted his pit off my face. We made eye contact only for Brian to deviously smirk and wink at me cockily. As Brain began to unite my legs my mind wandered again. Brian had said that he still had more gas but he put on the singlet to wrestle so that means he wants to wrestle but he still has plans to fart on me again. Oh god why does he still want to fart on me? Hasn’t this been torture enough?? Involuntarily I began to gag as I remembered the stench and pure raunch of Brian’s gas.

“HA HA HA you excited to wrestle your Daddy and suck up some more gas son?!” Brian said as he finished my second leg and rose off the bed. I stared up at him in fear and slowly began to slide off the bed. Once standing I was at eye level with Brian’s pecs. I knew that he was a big guy but only now did he seem so massive to me. The dominance he exerted and the control that he demanded over me made me feel dwarfed in comparison to him. In only a matter of hours my stepfather had gone from a simple figure in my life that I usually ignored to my master… my owner… my Daddy as he so gleefully called himself. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes anymore. Brian had completely degraded me and I had no choice but to continue on with his sadistic humiliation. If I tried to fight or run he would easily stop me, punish me, and even worse extend our trip. There is no way out he has me right where he wants me and I can’t do anything about it.

Brian laughed louder than before “ HA HA YEAAAA boi I know you’re ready!” With that, Brian walked a few paces back in the room and sort of half squatted himself down into a wrestlers pose. Ugh this guy was a wrestling champion back when he was in high school and here I am not even knowing the first clue about wrestling. There was no way I could win and the huge evil smirk on his face just proved that he knew it too.

“You ready my boy?” Brian questioned, in an amped up excited voice. I “Mrphhheddd” an answer while shaking my head and then went to remove the tape from my mouth to give him an actual answer. Before I could even get my hand halfway up to my face though Brian was already on me. His entire body wrapped around mine and we both fell to the floor. He had my face pressed into the soft carpeted floor of the bedroom with my right arm twisted behind my back. As I struggled in pain my stepfathers hot heavy breath spoke into my ear “OHHH ho ho Ho noooo son you gotta keep my dirty jock strap in your mouth! It’s got a lot more marinating to do in there before you’ve fully cleaned it. So you enjoy it now boy!” I moaned in displeasure knowing that his disgusting sweat pouch would remain trapped in my mouth.

Brian laughed as he readjusted himself so that I was now pinned beneath him. He pinned both of my arms above my head on the floor with his arms and stared me right in the eyes. There was a glimmer of pure joy in them as he began to slowly drip a long stream of saliva down towards my face. I struggled furiously as my stepfathers saliva made it’s way down to my face, though thankfully right before it hit he slurped it all back up. Brian exploded with laughter “ You should have seen the look in your eyes! Is that what you look like when I’m giving you my farts?! Nooooo, it can’t be! Cause I know that you LOOOOooooOoOOOooooOoovvvveeeee Daddy’s gas.”

Almost ceremoniously after Brian finished stating how much I loved his gas his stomach began to gurgle and he rose up off me. Rapidly, Brian twisted my entire body and rolled me so that I was trapped between his crossed legs. My face was pressed into his damp singlet clad ass as his thighs squished my neck. I knew this was it, as much as I tried to calm myself down I couldn’t , I knew that it was about to begin again. I tried everything I could to escape my stepfathers giant bubble butt but I couldn’t there was no way out of this.

“Love you son. Probably almost more than you love Daddy’s farts!” And with that Brian erupted. A gaseous beast was unleashed on my face. The monstrous stink invaded my nostrils immediately bringing tears to my eyes. The fart went on for what felt like hours , vibrating my entire face against my disgusting stepfathers butt crack. I could hear Brian laughing as I suffered so intensely. He didn’t just love farting on my face. He didn’t just love that I hated it so much. He loved doing it, he loved my disgust and suffering, he loved acting like I loved every ounce of his stink and using his dominance to force me to endure it.

“How’s that smell son! Take deep breaths! Remember this is for you!” Brian shouted as another fart found its way out of his butthole and right into my nostrils. Once again the stench burned, but I inhaled. I inhaled as deeply as my body would allow me to. I knew I had to please him. I couldn’t stay here more than a week, it still was only our first day here and I was completely destroyed. I don’t know how I am going to survive this whole week there is no way I could survive more than tha-

My thoughts were interrupted as Brian crossed his thighs tighter completely squishing my neck and forcing my face deeper into his ass. I heard him groan with relief from above me and than I was slapped in the face again with a gurgling wet fart. I felt the thin layer of the singlet that separated my face from his cavernous butt crack grow damper. I couldn’t tell if it was wet from the amount of sweat he had accumulated between his cheeks or if it was his ass juices slowly seeping there way into my pores forever marking me with the stench of my Stepfather’s butt crack. Either way the smell was only grower more poisonous.

Brian began to monologue above me while continuing to unleash terror onto my face.

“Ya know Cole I think you and I have a pretty special father son bond going on here”

A long hiss came streaming out of Brian’s butt filling my entire body with the rank stench of rotten eggs.

“I mean what other Daddy do you know would be so accepting of his sons peculiar fetish?”

A loud quick duck quack sounding fart bursted onto my face, Brian twisting his hip to let it out.

“I have been so kind and loving to you. Really helping you get what you love.”

Another sonic boom fart popped out of him hitting me square in the face.

“I really am the best Daddy in the whole entire world aren’t I?”

Brian genuinely sounded like he was happy with himself. It was crazy it was almost like a part of him had actually convinced himself that I loved his farts. I knew that he knew it wasn’t true, but I think it was just more satisfying for him to fart on an unwilling victim and add an extra layer to the torture by pretending like this was what his victim actually wanted. That he was being so kind and helping me.

I felt his muscular legs uncoiling themselves from around my body, his Python like thighs released my neck and I immediately pushed myself out of Brian’s butt. I Inhaled the fresh air rapidly. Catching my breath through my two small nostril holes as quickly as I could. Brian stilly laying down on the floor bubble butt up cocked his neck around and looked at me with a frat boy like smile. “You’re welcome Son.”

Brian began to stand his massive globes jiggling in his singlet as he stood. I remained on the floor panting on my hands and knees. I was mortified, sick to my stomach but I knew we couldn’t be done.

“Alright son, we should hit the hay I got a big day for us planned tomorrow and it’s almost midnight”. Midnight?! What?! How long have we been doing this?? How long has he been farting on my face?

Brian grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet. I tried to Yelp in pain but I was still muffled by his sweaty jock. Once I was fully up Brian spoke again. “Okay so you’ll sleep with Daddy while we’re here just cause I need to make sure you don’t misbehave son. Get into your pjs and then meet me in the master bedroom.” With that, Brian strode confidently out of his childhood bedroom his cheeks bouncing as he exited. I stood there for a moment paralyzed in fear but then immediately burst into action. I shuffled through the back I brought and quickly changed into my pajamas. As I was moving and changing I had almost an out of body experience. Watching myself quickly comply with what my sadistic disgusting stepfather demanded I was horrified. Why was I not trying to escape or call my mother. Why wasn’t I at least taking my time before returning to the ultimate torture.

He broke me… I could see it. He completely owned me and I knew that there was no way of escaping my fart torture, the only thing I could do was be a good son and hopefully not get punished. If I inhaled every fart, if I did everything he demanded the faster this could all end and we could go home. Suddenly I snapped back to my body early falling down from the whiplash. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks…what if this doesn’t end when we go back home? What if he always finds a way? What if I’m just Daddy’s little fart boy for the rest of my life?!

From down the hall he called “Colllleeeee, Daddy is waiting for you!”

I slowly shuffled down the hall and stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom. Brian stood in front of the mirror in only a lose pair of grey boxers flexing and posing for himself. He noticed me out of the corner of his eye and greeted me with a shit eating grin and a massive belch. He slowly brought his lips to an O shape and blew his burp at me in such a “bro-ly” way. I entered the room faintly smelling his burp and other forms of stink all around me. Brian shocked me out of nowhere when he ripped the duct tape off of my mouth aggressively. I shouted out in pain and his old never washed jock strap fell from my mouth onto the floor with a splat. The once crusty dirty stained pouch was now completely soaked with my saliva . Brian looked down at his balled up jock strap and began to nod his head slowly with approval. “Nice job son! You got that shit pretty damn clean!” He seemed excited at my so called “cleaning”.

Brian picked up the jock strap with his toes and threw it up in the air. He caught it easily and then walked over to a dresser and put it in a drawer. As he turned back towards me he scrunched his face and gave me a chill look “we’ll let it air dry… Anyways sorry to take that away from you, but I just needed to talk to you before we went to bed. I was thinking that tonight and maybe every night you could sleep completely under the covers. This way my ass and farts can give you some nice TLC allllll nighhhhtttt looooonnggg”

I was horrified but this time I wasn’t defenseless I had my voice my words. I had a chance to get out of this but I needed to be smart I needed to be carful. I took a beat to collect my thoughts and tried my best to get out of this week long Dutch oven proposal.

“Oh..” My voice cracked.

“Thank you so much for thinking of me Daddy, but I think I would rather just sleep above the covers. Don’t want to just take your gas for granted because I’ll be sleeping ha ha” I tried my best to sound as happy and chill as possible but I knew as soon as I finished speaking I didn’t impress Brian. His face grew dark and stern, and he spoke with a slight touch of anger.

“Oh yea you’re probably right Cole. Though maybe we should just extend our trip for a couple more weeks so you really learn to not take Daddy’s gas for granted.”

Oh my god he was pure evil. There was no way to beat him.

“I’m so sorry Daddy no I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I would rather sleep under the covers right by your farting butt every night this week!” I couldn’t believe the words spilling out of my mouth.

Brian chuckled slightly “Beg me to give you a Dutch oven every night.” He spoke so charmingly but his words were far from charming.

I wanted to cry. There was no way in hell I wanted to spend every night getting a Dutch oven from my stepfather but that was my only option. So, just like farts being released out of Brian’s butt and up my nose the words released from my lips.

“Please Daddy! Please give me a Dutch oven every night on our trip! I want get to smell your farts all night! Please fart on me while you sleep! Please trap me in a fart bubble under the covers! Please!”

The words just poured out of me and Brian laughed. He laughed the hardest I’ve ever seen him laugh. He had tears in his eyes and he just couldn’t stop. He laughed at how dumb and pathetic I sounded. He laughed at all of the gross nights he just forced me to beg to endure. Finally once he was just down to some quiet giggles while catching his breath and wiping his eyes he spoke again.

“Alright Coley boy, time to get some sleep” he said with a giant grin on his face as pulled down the covers on one side of the bed exposing the my resting place for the night. I slowly climbed into the bed and laid on my side in almost a fetal pose waiting for my stepfather’s boxer covered butt to present itself to me.

“Wait right there son!” Brian said as he quickly jogged out of the room. I sat up a bit a listened intently as I heard him rummaging around in a room down the hall. What new and disgusting torture could he be cooking up now. Brian jogged back into the room smiling wide. He had two things in his hand, but before I had the chance to react he kept onto the bed punching in me playfully. He laughed as he stretched a pair of his underwear above my face. “Sorry, had to get these out of my suitcase. Wore these to the gym every single day last week and I brought them here special for you”

Small pleas began to escape my mouth but faster than I could form a sentence Brian began stuffing the white briefs into my mouth. Once again I tasted his sweat and stink, but unlike his jockstrap which had no cloth that covered his butt these underwear had definitely been up close and personal with Brian’s ass, trust me I could tell. He continued shoving the dirty underwear into my mouth until they were completely in. My cheeks were bulged out like a hamsters trying to contain Brian’s nasty briefs . I began to gag trying to get them out of my mouth but just as quickly as he had shoved the underwear in my mouth Brian had tapped my mouth shut.

Brian smiled down at me and slapped my hamster like cheeks lightly. “Lookin good there bud aren’t ya hahaha!” He looked so blissfully happy and I could only imagine how I looked in comparison. Mouth stuffed with dirty underwear, cheeks bulging, my face probably all red and sweaty from being stuffed into his ass cheeks over and over again. I bet I looked pathetic but Brian just kept smiling down at me gleefully happy at how pathetic he had made me look. I desperately wanted to run as he slightly moved up off me and lied down right next to me. His butt right next to my head that if I were to just look to the left-

Brian once again interrupted my thoughts by grabbing a fistful if my hair and shoving me face first into his boxer clad ass. My nose shot right into his ass cheeks due to how silky and loose the boxers were. My nose was assaulted by his ass stink as the covers cascaded over me sealing me in my fart bubble for at least the next eight hours. Brian released my hair from his grip and spoke “don’t let me catch you moving around to much tonight. I want you in my ass cheeks all night boy. So don’t move and have sweet dreams son, maybe tomorrow you’ll finally get to meet my bare cheeks HAHAHA”

My stomach turned at his final statement but it was about to turn a whole lot more as Brian began to fart and fart and fart all night long.

[anonbubbles-deactivated20190829]

Robert

Thanks to whoever sent this in!

Robert and I were never really close. He knew who I was and I knew who he was, but we both had some preconceived notions about one another. I always thought he was an asshole, and guess what? I was right. As for what Robert thought about me… He wasn’t right, but he gave me no choice but to admit that he was.

We were partners for an English project so I went to his house and we worked on it. After an hour he told me he’d be right back, but he was gone for over fifteen minutes, and I was starting to get worried. I wandered through his big house. No one was home but us so it was sort of creepy. I called out his name “Robert? Are you there?” I heard the feint sound of music up the stairs so I followed it. When I got to the source the door was open a crack. I pushed the door open and was surprised to find Robert standing there in nothing but his jock strap(he plays baseball) I was greeted to the sight of his bubble butt covered in blond hairs. “Whoa there Johnny boy, I knew you were obsessed with me” Robert stated arrogantly “What? Sorry I didn’t mean to walk in on you, you were just gone a while” I replied awkwardly Robert laughed and said “no man don’t worry I understand, I’ve noticed how much you love me, and you’re in luck, I’m down to let you be my slave” I was taken aback “what are you talking about?” Robert approached me “i can tell how much you want my round ass on your face, and how desperately you want to inhale my musky stink” as he said that Robert lifted his large arms behind his head exposing his blonde armpits to my face. Their stench filled my nostrils immediately. He smelled like pure man and he was proud of it. I wrinkled my nose at the smell. He stunk “Come on, I’ll give you what you want” Robert forcefully pulled my face into his bare pit. The smell was overpowering. I tried to pull out but he was too strong. He just kept using my face to rub his rank pits like I was his deodorant. Finally he let me out, but before I had a chance to react. He shoved me to the floor. I struggled as Robert pounced on me and began to tie me up. Before I knew my arms and legs were bound. I was at his mercy. “FUCK OFF ROBERT LET ME GO” I screamed “Ugh stop yelling, you should be thanking me for finally letting you be my stink slave” He said cockily “I don’t want to be you-MRRGHPHH” Mid sentence Robert shoved a black jockstrap into my mouth. It tasted like his ball sweat. It was pure disgust and raunch, he was evil. “Like that? that’s my game jockstrap you’re tasting. Hope you enjoy” he exclaimed with pride. After saying that Robert rose up and repositioned himself so his but was right above my defenseless face. “Here she comes slave!” Robert stated aggressively Robert slowly lowered himself to the point where his ass was spread wide right above my face. I was forced to stare up into his messy shitty hairy butt crack. The light blond hairs tickled my nose, and the stink was enough to to make me throw up. He must’ve noticed that his but hairs were tickling me because he began to sway back and forth using his butt hairs to tickle me. “Like that bitch? Too bad your still untrained, otherwise I’d take your gag out and let you lick my butt hair, I know how much you’d enjoy that” He must’ve be psychotic Robert then straddled my neck. His disgusting butt hovered right over my mouth “I know you’re tapped up, but give me some kisses, here I’ll give you one” “PHLLRRRPHHHBBRRTT” Robert blew a massive fart right onto my mouth “Aww HA HA HA that was sick man, I can’t believe you actually like this shit” I don’t know where Robert got the idea that I enjoyed his stink. I was in hell. Robert then began to slide up my face. Back and forth back and forth, using my whole face as a means to wipe his crack. “Ahhhh man, I think I’ll start using your face instead of toilet paper” Robert said pleased The idea of that made my stomach turn. Him wiping his semi clean ass on my face was enough to make me puke, a fresh shitty assed Robert would kill me. Robert paused over my nose and “SHLLRTTTSSTTTSSS” The smell was pure sewage the fumes gurgled out and sizzled up my nostrils “OOOH boy, that was nasty. HA I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun together” with that Roberts ass exploded. Releasing a plume of gas that I could never escape. I was his stink slave.

[smotherem4good]

Fuccckkk that made me hard…

[gatzilksis]

Charlie's Bet Pt. 2

WARNING: INCLUDES FACE SITTING AND FARTS. DON’T LIKE OR AREN’T A LEGAL ADULT?: DON’T READ!

I unlocked the door to my house and came inside. Charlie came in behind me. I didn’t bother looking around or yelling; I knew no one was home. The only time I ever saw my parents was the weekend, and that was somewhat of a rarity as well.

Charlie walked past me and farted, leaving his trail of stink behind. He laughed. “You just got crop dusted!” Charlie then flopped down on my dad’s big recliner in the living room. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “Get me somethin’ to eat, will ya?”

I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking at all the leftovers. “Leftover spaghetti good?”

“Sure,” he yelled. “Got anything else to go with it?”

“There’s two pork chops, some peas, and mashed potatoes,” I answered.

“Warm it all up,” said Charlie.

So that’s what I did. I came in and put all the food on the table beside the chair with a fork, spoon, and knife. I knew for a fact that Charlie could make all this food disappear; I’d seen him eat a lot more in one sitting.

“Thank you,” said Charlie. He beckoned for me to come closer, then pointed at his ass. I bent closer to his rump. Charlie pushed my head against it and ripped a long, wet one. I was coughing when he let me go. He tore into his food like an animal while I sat down on the couch. I tried to focus on the TV, but the way Charlie ate was so gross that I couldn’t look away. Eventually, he leaned and farted, then smiled. “Come sniff that, then give me something to drink.”

I came over to the chair and bent down, hesitating and then inhaling the shitty air. It was worse than his farts on the bus and the other one I’d just smelled! Charlie laughed at the disgusted face I made. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a half-drank 3-liter of Root Beer out of the fridge. I handed it to Charlie without a glass. He screwed off the lid and tipped back the huge bottle, gulping it down. I heard his stomach bubble and expected him to burp, but then it bubbled again, the opposite way. Charlie grinned at me. “Saving ‘em up so you can get a good blasting later. Just as soon as I’m done with this food.”

Oh, God. This bet was going to ruin my life.

Charlie finally finished eating. He’d scraped every dish clean. I got up and carried his dishes to the kitchen sink, running some water over them.

I went back to the living room to find Charlie untying his shoes. “It’s too hot in here.”

He slid off the shoes, and the smell of sweaty socks filled the air. Charlie pulled his socks off and touched his feet. “Damn, that’s a lot of sweat.”

Charlie then pulled his shirt off, revealing his chubby, virtually hairless form. He threw his shirt onto the couch and sighed. “Much better. Go lay down on the couch, Johnny. Get ready for the farts.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” I asked him. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know. That’s why I wanna do this.” Charlie chuckled. I lay down on the couch with my head flat against a cushion. Charlie suddenly dangled his sweaty socks over my face. I flinched. “What are you doing?!”

“Put these in your mouth,” said Charlie. “I want you to breathe it all in through your nose.”

“You’re disgusting!” I yelled.

Before I could make a move, Charlie grabbed both of my arms with one hand and sat on them. He forced the wet socks into my mouth. Oh God. The taste was worse than I’d imagined, like old cheese and grease and salt.

Charlie stood up and put a hand over my mouth. “Don’t make me force you to do something again.”

He turned around and began descending, his ass hovering over my face. It got closer and closer, then he sat down with his full weight, and I couldn’t see a thing.

The smell was like a hundred stale, rotten farts. I tried not to breathe through my nose, but I had no choice. What was the last time he’d washed these pants? What was the last time he’d washed his ass?

My nose hurt under his 260 pounds, and the TV sounded muffled. Charlie picked up his ass and then dropped it again, smushing my nose. I knew he making sure my nose was adjacent to his hole. He was disgusting.

His pants suddenly warmed against my nose, and I was breathing in a thick, fresh fart. I immediately felt sick, coughing into his ass. Charlie wiggled on top of me. “Damn, John. You’re terrible at this. Even Maddox doesn’t cough on the first one.”

Maddox was Charlie’s little brother. He was in the seventh grade, and Charlie loved to torture him with his farts. Poor kid. Now I knew what he went through.

My face vibrated with the force of another fart, this one a long ripper. I heard Charlie sigh above me. All I could smell was this new fart, stronger than the last one. I started wiggling under Charlie’s ass, desperately trying to get free. Charlie leaned forward a bit, so he wasn’t on my nose anymore. He held down my legs. “Stop squirming, jerk. I won fair and square.”

His ass still loomed in my face, the hole poised to blast more gas up my nose at any moment. I sighed in relief when Charlie stood up.

I looked to the side and breathed clean air (well, as clean as it could be with bits of Charlie’s farts hanging in it). Charlie grinned at me. “Don’t get too excited. We’re far from being done for the day.”

I looked at him questioningly. Charlie kept smiling evilly as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He pushed them down, revealing a pair of tighty-whitey’s. My eyes widened. I shook my head and screamed “no” through his sweaty socks.

“Oh, yeah,” said my almost-naked friend. I could see that the underwear were tinted yellow. Why did he never wash his clothes?

I went to get up, but Charlie quickly sat down on my chest. I struggled to breathe. Charlie repositioned himself so he was kneeling over my face, a sweaty, smelly foot to either side of my face. All I could see was his yellowed underwear, covering his fat ass. I yelled out, but it was muffled from the stupid socks that were still shoved into my mouth.

Charlie met his ass to my face and immediately let out a raging six-second fart. Two shorter farts followed, then my friend’s ass leaked more hot, silent gas.

It was a lot of farts at once, so I choked on the potent air once more, coughing. My eyes were watering, my stomach turned, and my nose actually hurt from smelling it.

“Sniff it up, John,” said Charlie.

“No way,” I mumbled past the socks into his ass.

Another fart exploded from the ass. I wanted to cry.

“Sniff!” Charlie yelled.

I still didn’t. Charlie sighed in frustration. “Damn it, John. If you don’t sniff my fucking farts, I’ll do this with nothing on. Completely. Nude. Trust me when I say you don’t want that.”

Another rush of hot, stinky air flowed out. I took a whiff and immediately coughed again. The air continued to escape his ass. How did he fart like this? There had to be something wrong with his digestive system.

“Good. Keep sniffing. It’s still going.” Charlie laughed, proud of himself.

I took little sniffs of his ass as the silent fart finally stopped. It had to be some sort of record.

“Sniff it deeper!” yelled Charlie. “I wanna hear it!”

Another loud fart, and I took on one big whiff. I immediately regretted it, wanting to throw up. The smell was so bad. He’d really outdone himself this time.

Charlie stood up again. He removed the socks from my mouth, and I took deep breaths. The air might have been laced with farts, but at least there was some oxygen.

Charlie smiled. “That was good for your first time. We’ll try it bare-assed later.”

“No!” I yelled.

“Yes!” Charlie yelled back.

I stood up, but Charlie pushed me back down. I sat there, and Charlie sat at the other end of the couch. He put his feet up beside him and turned so he was sitting sideways. Charlie pointed to his ass. “Come here.”

I regretfully lay my head down and scooted it closer to Charlie’s smelly ass. He looked down at me, pleased. “Good. This way, you’re never too far from the farts.”

I heard more air rush out, and the terrible stench met my nose once more. He sighed as I began to die inside, dreading the bare-assed farting he told me would happen later.

[gayfarthumiliation-deactivated2]

PJ looked above him and all he could see was ass. A hairy ass. A swampy ass. And it was covered in stinking black fabric. How on earth had he ended up here he thought to himself?

It had all started innocently enough when he set off on his road trip a couple of months ago. He had saved some money, filled his car with fuel and was really looking forward to his trip, he needed some time away to rest.

Cut to now, he had just run out of fuel, in the middle of nowhere and he had no money left. At all. He was so annoyed at himself for letting himself get into this situation. Normally he was so careful. He couldn’t even get any signal on his phone. Could this get any worse. There was only one thing for him to do, and that was walk to see if he could find any help.

He had walked about a mile along the deserted road, when he came across a house, set slightly back from the road, with a large driveway. It looked nice, and PJ guessed that he would be able to get help there. So he knocked on the door. He would later realise that, this would turn out to be mistake number one.

A tall man in his mid 30’s answered the door, he was well built with a head of thick brown hair. “Can I help you?” The man asked, looking PJ up and down. PJ felt slightly intimidated, the man was taller and broader than him, and had a deep masculine voice.

“Hey, Emm, I’m PJ, my van ran out of fuel about a mile up the road, and I have no phone signal to call for help, and I was wondering if maybe I could, possibly use your phone please?” PJ blurted out quickly, nervous of the man looking him up and down suspiciously.

The mans expression changed when he heard PJ’s story, his scowl had turned into more of a grin. This made PJ relax a little. “Haha, happens to the best of us buddy, and it’s worse out here because nobody ever travels these roads, why don’t you come on in, i’m Kent.”

The man stepped to the side and allowed PJ to walk through the door. As he walked by he noticed a strong odour of B.O coming from the guy, but he was far too polite to say anything. Plus, the guy was dressed in a t-shirt and old shorts, so maybe he’d been working out or something.

PJ entered the room and it looked like a bit of a batchelor pad to him. There was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and a leather recliner off to the side of the room.

“So where is the phone?” He asked, looking around for any signs of one. Kent laughed and looked smugly at PJ. “Oh, you didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?” Instantly PJ thought he shouldn’t have stepped into the house, as Kent shut the door behind him.

“Look man..” PJ started, trying to back away, looking frantically for a way to escape the room. “I don’t have any money.”

“Who said I want your money man?” Kent laughed, he continued on. “Relax, I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to hang out, play some games, have some company for a while.”

PJ should have felt calmer listening to that. But he didn’t, Kent was saying the right things but he still did sound slightly threatening. But PJ would play along if it could save him from the wilderness outside. “Ok, cool... so Kent, what do you want to do?” He asked.

“Well...” Kent grinned, he had PJ exactly where he wanted him. “I like to bet, and play cards... so how about we make a few bets, play a few rounds and see what happens?” Kent sat down in the recliner and pulled some playing cards out from a drawer.

PJ, at this point was still standing in the middle of the room and Kent nodded to him to sit on the adjacent sofa. He did. “I don’t really have anything to bet...” PJ started. Kent cut him off “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Alright then.”

“Great, I’ll shuffle these cards, we can play red or black, for every card I turn over that you guess the colour of correctly, you win, for every one you don’t I do. Deal?”

“Deal. So, what do you want to bet?”

Kent grinned. Jackpot. “Well how about, if you guess this one right I’ll give you a few litres of fuel from my garage?”

PJ’s eyes lit up, that could be the solution to his problems. Instantly his eyes lit up. Kent noticed. “But if you get it wrong you have to give me all of your clothes.”

PJ was shocked. He wasn’t into any sort of weird stuff. He didn’t really want to agree to that. Kent sat silently, staring him down. PJ considered his options, slowly realising that it was this or waiting for a long time on a deserted country road with hardly any supplies. Plus he had more clothes when he got to the car. “Deal, and I think it’ll be red.”

Kent grinned and flipped the card. It was black. PJ considered running for the door, but decided against it, he’d just end up back at square one.

“Woohoo, get them off loser boy.” Kent grinned, as a red faced and embarrassed PJ stood and removed his clothes slowly. “Hand then over.” PJ handed his clothes to Kent and sat back down feeling the cold leather against his skin. Kent then put his clothes inside a cupboard next to the chair. PJ had nowhere to run now, he had to play along.

“Care to go again?” Kent laughed, sizing up the skinny naked man in his living room. PJ just nodded, but he was starting to get annoyed at this prick taking advantage of him. Who does that to someone when they’re clearly having bad luck?

Kent was in his element. He loved having guys around to bully and torment, and it didn’t happen often seen as he lived int he middle of nowhere. He would make the most of this opportunity. “So, round two, guess correctly and I’ll give you 10 seconds of phone time, guess incorrectly and you have to lie on the floor and suck my toes, deal?”

“20 seconds?” PJ tried to bargain, knowing that he would never be able to do what he needed to in 10.

“5 now.” Kent grinned. “And you can only use the phone when you have at least 30 seconds.”

“Fuck man. Please.” PJ pleaded, looking at Kent who just stared him down. Kent knew that he just had to wait. PJ finally broke. “Fine, deal, red again.” He said grumpily.

The card this time was red. PJ was happy with that, he cheered. Kent knew that to keep the game going PJ needed some wins, so he wasn’t upset. He suggested they bet the same again on the next card. PJ agreed, but he wasn’t so lucky this time.

“Doooown you get toe sucker!” Kent gloated, kicking off his shoes and removing his socks. Immediately a stench like old cheese and sewage filled the room. Kent’s feet were sweat soaked, and frankly totally disgusting. PJ gagged as he lowered himself to the floor, he had to lay on his stomach as Kent kept his feet flat on the floor. “I love a good toe sucking so take your time, and really enjoy what I’ve created. You might have to suck extra hard sometimes to get the harder bits of toe jam off.” Kent laughed.

There was nothing else for it PJ thought. He sighed and started sucking. He gagged. His eyes watered. He almost had to pull away when Kent started wiggling his toes in his mouth. He was sure he had swallowed something unsavoury. But he just needed to get to the end, he was determined to beat this guy now. Kent tapped him on the head and said “Enough for now. Let’s go again.” PJ sat up on the floor.

Kent and PJ made two more bets, PJ won the first and had managed to get 15 seconds of phone time. Kent won the second, and had made PJ put on a tiny pink thong and lick his hairy, hairy armpits. PJ had spent a good 10 minutes licking and sucking Kent’s salty pits, and was worried he would never manage to get the ingrained stench off his face. He needed this to go faster. He wanted to get out of this house of horror fast.

“I want to make a bigger bet.” He announced. “What has to happen for me to get 30 seconds of phone time, AND, my clothes back, AND, the fuel from the garage?” He made eye contact with a still grinning Kent who couldn’t have predicted how well this would go.

“Well...” Kent pretended to consider this, he brought his hand to his face and scratched his chin. “How about this, we don’t play cards for this one. We wrestle. First guy to pin the other for 5 seconds wins.”

PJ considerd the offer. This was interesting. Kent was clearly bigger than him, but PJ reckoned he was bout 10 years younger, and could possibly be quicker and more agile than him. He had to take the chance, right? “Ok, I agree to that.”

Kent’s eyes lit up. Jackpot. He laughed. “Ok, since you’ve agreed to that we need to see what I get if I win. Has to be bigger than what I’ve got so far.” PJ’s face fell, but only slightly, he would win, but he was still nervous to hear what this guy wanted. Kent thought for 30 seconds. “Ok, if I win you stay here for 24 whole hours as my complete, and total bitch. I say jump, you say how high. You do whatever I ask you as long as it’s not illegal and won’t injure you. You serve me and degrade yourself totally until your time is up. Yes?”

PJ really has to consider this. That was a lot. But on the other hand if he won he’d be outta here. He just needed to be confident. Believe in himself. “Deal.” He said to Kent, who rubbed his hands together in delight.

Both men now stood at either end of the room. Kent had stripped to a tight pair of black briefs, which stunk of man smells. PJ stood in a pink thong, his hairless ass cheeks starting to feel the cold.

Kent shouted go and the both ran at one another. PJ at first felt good, he had Kent’s shoulders in a good grip and was trying to push him down to his knees. However quickly Kent wrapped his leg around PJs which sent him tumbling to the floor with Kent on top of him. They rolled around the floor a bit, however it was clear that Kent had the upper hand. He managed to pin PJ, his face above his, looking down as the hope left his eyes. Eyes which were looking up at the delighted face of his new evil overlord.

“Stay still, that’s your first order. If you understand say, yes master.” Kent said, looking at the red faced guy lying below him.

PJ was devastated. He felt himself tearing up from embarrassment. He was just going to have to try and get through this. Through gritted teeth he replied, “yes master.”

Kent grinned smugly, and stood above PJ. He placed a foot either side of his head on the floor. “Fantastic bitchboy. Your 24 hours are starting now, and task one is a great one. Fart smelling.” PJ groaned. This was going to be torture. Kent grinned. This was going to be heaven. “I’ll squat on your face, give you the honour of releasing a fart on it, and then you will kiss my ass as a thank you. We’ll repeat this process till there’s no air left in me. Say yes master if you understand.”

“Yes master.”

Kent laughed. Result. A bitch for him to use. Let’s go. He squatted. Wriggling his ass on PJ’s face to ensure that there was a nose right in his crack. PJ had closed his eyes and just felt two squishy globes descend over his face. They literally smelled of shit. He coughed because the smell was so bad. Like old cabbage, eggs and death. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse.

PPPPPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT

A loud fart blasted onto PJ’s nose as he heard Kent let out a sigh of relief above him. He puckered his lips and kissed the awful fabric that was draped over his face as he heard Kent gloat above him, saying, “Yeah, that’s what I thought bitch.”

Kent stood back up and PJ was relieved at the fresher air getting to his face. This didn’t last long as within seconds his gigantic ass descended again.

PPPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTPPFFFTTTRR

An even louder fart than before blasted out this time. And to make matters worse it stunk even more. PJ once again pursed his lips together and kissed. Kent made another derogatory comment and stood up again.

The third time Kent lowered his ass the fart was silent, but that didn’t make it any less deadly. In fact PJ would have said it was worse, and as Kent stood up he felt really light headed.

Kent continued this torment a few more times, repeating the same process. PJ just lay there and endured it.

“Ok, now for the grand finale bitch.” Kent boomed above PJ. He lowered his boxers revealing his bare, hairy, swampy, stinking, gigantic ass. PJ’s eyes widened in terror, but it was too late. The ass came crashing down onto his face. He could feel the hairs on his cheeks, and the smell was so intense his nostrils were burning.

“Beg me to fart.” Was all Kent said, grinning, laughing, smug. PJ was underneath him, glad he couldn’t see his tears. This was rock bottom. Just get through it.

“Please fart.”

“Needs to be better than that slut monkey.”

“Please fart on my face.”

“Better bimbo.”

“Please master fart on my face, I love to eat your yummy gas.”

“We’ll need to work on that, but it’ll do for now.”

PPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTPTPTFFFF

Kent released the largest, most obnoxious, smelliest fart yer onto PJ’s face. PJ gagged. Kent grinned. Then PJ kissed a bare asshole. This was a new low.

One thing was for sure, PJ would never be making bets again.

Thanks to the person who submitted the photo to inspire this piece of writing. It was fun. :)

[fartinmynose3425-deactivated201]

The Counselor

Lately school had gotten to be too much for you, so you decided you’d set up an appointment with your counselor. You walked into the office, and were immediately in awe. You could see the outline of you counselor’s biceps through his dress shirt, as he was typing on the computer. You’d never met your counselor before, which you were currently regretting. “Hello, It’s great to meet you, I love meeting my students!” He said enthusiastically. “Yeah, thanks for meeting with me.” You reply. He got up to put some papers in his cabinet. When he got out of his chair, and stood up, you saw it. He had the smoothest, roundest, and cutest butt ever. Yeah, you were definitely regretting not meeting with your counselor before now. “So what seems to be the problem, bud?” He said. “I’ve just been so stressed about getting into a good college, and I can’t stop thinking about how I can raise my GPA.” “Mmhmm, I get it, sometimes you just need a break. What is your current GPA?” He asked. “I don’t know, let me check.” You pull out your MacBook from your backpack, and go to your grades, you check and it says your GPA is a 4.1. “It’s a 4.1” you say, feeling silly for stressing about it. “May I see it?” “Sure” You hand over your laptop. He looks at it thoroughly,me even starts scrolling, which you find odd, considering all your grade information was on one page…. He hands you the laptop back, and you close it and put it in your backpack. “Honestly, I think you just need to take it easier on yourself, you’re doing exceptionally well academically, there’s no need to stress.” He says reassuringly. “Yeah you’re right, I just want the best future for myself.” “Do you know what a career you want to pursue?” “Yeah, probably a lawyer, or a politician.” You say, showing off a bit of confidence. “Really, I could think of a career better suit for you!“He says. “And what would that be?” “A full-time fart sniffer!” “Excuse me?” You start to sweat profusely, is it possible he knows of your fart fetish? But how would he know, you’d only just met him? “Check the open tabs in your browser….” He says while chuckling. You frantically grab out you MacBook, and type in the password. It unlocks and the browser is already open. The tab with your grades is still open, but so are 2 others. Another tab contains Netflix, but the other one contains your Tumblr account “Fart_Sniffer719”. You must have overlooked the other tabs when you handed your laptop over. You are mortified. “Listen kid, you do you, in fact I could help you… relieve some stress!” You hear a low audible fart from under the counsellors desk. He just laughs. “Please don’t tell anyone about this!” “Don’t worry kid, this is confidential” “Thank you.” He gets up, and closes the blinds. “Now about me helping you relieve some stress, I’m fucking full of some powerful farts, and I need to let them go NOW! I could let you sniff them, or they could go to waste. What do you say kid?” “Get that ass over here!” You say excitedly. “Pants, or no pants?” “No pants!” you say, practically drooling. He unzips his dress pants, pulls them down, along with his underwear. Oh my god, his ass was even better outside of those pants. “Get over here kid, I’m gonna need you to place your nostril right over my asshole, so it muffles the sound.” Immediately you get out there and do it, and then it happens…. PSHDJKFKKFJKTLFLGLFLFFKKFKFLFLFLFLCLLLLCLLCL You pull away and your eyes are watering, it’s so rancid, yet so delightful. Is this actually happening? “Oh kid, I need you to put it back over my asshole, I’m gonna explode!” As soon as you do he lets loose- PDOLDLRBSHPHRSBPRHSBPHRSBSPBHPRSBSPHPSHRPHSRB At this point you’re coughing up green clouds. “How much more you got left?” “Oh baby, I’ve barely started.” “Well let’s continue then!” You plant your face back in his ass, and he starts again. “If you were my student,” PHDNFBCDJCMMCMMCMCKCKCKLFKCKKCDKDKFKCKKCPHRBS “you’d have an A+,” PHRBSBPHRTSPBRTPHSRBSTPHRSBTPHRBSRTBHRBST “in my class!” The farting lasted for the rest of the period. “What class do you have next, I’ll write you a pass.” “P.E.” “Good, you definitely need a shower.” He winked at you. You would definitely start making trips to the counselor’s office on a weekly basis now…

[theweirdooo5]

The Bill

(A story of mine, I also posted this on my new deviantart account: NeverGiving_Up.  I might continue it if you guys like it.)

Jeremy went to a restaurant one day. It was very warm outside and Jeremy felt like chilling a little, enjoying a nice meal. Jeremy liked his food and he was happy that he had some time for himself.

Jeremys work was pretty stressfull, so he didnt have a lot of these “pretty nice” moments. Even the people in the restaurant were nice. They werent loud, annoying, no they were also pretty relaxed.

When Jeremy finished his meal he felt kinda thirsty and so he ordered something to drink. He drank his drink that he ordered and asked for the bill. The waiter brought it and when Jeremy went to take his wallet out he noticed something.

He couldnt find it. He didnt know where it is until he realized that he forgot it on his desk in his bedroom. He was panicking a little. What will he do now? “Is there a problem Sir?” asked the waiter. “I..It seems like, I..I forgot my wallet at home.”

The waiter didnt look very happy about it. “Yeah, of cours you did.” The waiter seemed like he didnt believe it a bit. “Look, we can not let you leave without paying since you are here alone, but I have an idea how you could pay it off.”, said the waiter and took Jeremy with him.

They came into the kitchen and the waiter told the chef about the situation since the manager wasnt there at the moment. “Dont worry about it just leave him here.” said the cook with a smirk on his face.

“So, w..what do I need to do? Wash the dishes, cook, clean?”, “Kneel down!”, answered the cook. “What!?” ,looked Jeremy surprised. Did this guy wanted a blowjob or something other? Jeremy did as he was told since he was the one that needed to pay the bill.

“I think I ate something bad this morning and my stomach is acting up, I dont want to make others smell my gas so you will pay your bill by working as my fart-slave for a day.”, said the cook as he leaned backwards a little tiyng Jeremies had behind him with his apron.

Jeremy wanted to say something but his face was stuck in the cooks ass.

PFPFPRPPRPRPRPRPRPPFPPFPPPFPRPPRPPRPRPFPRPPPPPPPDPPPPTPPPPPP!!!!!!!

“Finally I can reliese these bad boys!”, said the cook with a warm smile on his face. Jeremy was feeling very disgusted and humilliated. This was the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

RPPRPRPFPFPFPRPRPPRPRRPRPRPPDDPPPFPFPRPRPPPFPRP!!!!

Another fart hit Jeremies face. The smell of sewege and spoiled milk hit Jeremies nose immidiatelly. He wanted to vomit at the spot, but he couldnt. The cook just prepared other meals that the other guests had ordered.

These were just the first few minutes of this hellish torture. Jeremy didnt even want to know what the rest will be like. He couldnt even think straight since he couldnt only think about the cooks gas.

SHSHSHSHSHHHHSHSHSHSH!!!

A silent, hushing fart came out of the cooks ass and went right in Jeremies nostrills. The smell was horrible. The cook really had some bad stomach problems. Jeremy just wanted this to be over.

Then the cook bend over to get something from the lowest drawer. Jeremies face sank even deeper into the cooks ass. Jeremies nose was squeezed between the cooks fat buttcheeks. The other cooks didnt very mind that Jeremy was sufforing like that, they were happpy that they didnt have to smell the cooks horrible gas.

PFPPFPRPFPRP!!!!

A small, but loud and putrid fart was reliesed. Jeremy was not very happy. Every new breath was a sufforing. “Hehe”, giggled the cook devilish. Jeremy hated this. He hated how damn evil this man was, to create this kind of thing just because he forgot his wallet. Jeremy regret it.

Jeremy then just realized how hot it was in the room. The cooks ass was super sweaty. He could feel the sweat now, even through the cooks pants. It was a strange feeling.

Jeremies knees also started to hurt a bit since he was kneeling behind the cook for some time now, and he even had to “crawl” behind the cook every time the cook moved. It was very emberressing, like he was some kind of toy or a puppy.

Then he heard the door open. “Good morning guys”, said the voice. “Hey boss!” said the cook. “What do you have there Patrick?”, asked the man the cook. “Oh this, he is my little personal fart-sniffer.”,answered the cook. “Oh well mind if I borrow him for some time?”, “No, not at all”, said the cook and the manager took Jeremy with him….

To be continued….

[fartsmellafiction]

The Bodybuilders' Debate

(18+ mlm fart fiction)

Happy Holiday Season everyone! <3

I was sitting on a bench in the locker room of a gym, packing my things. I had just worked out and I was ready to go home. As I zipped my backpack shut, a man walked up to me. He was hairy, covered in sweat stains, and built like a god. His clothes were tight against his body, barely holding his muscles in. The bench shook as he plopped down next to me.

"Hey man, I'm Jackson. You seem like a good champ. Can you help my buddy and I settle a debate?" he asked. I wasn't that interested in being someone's mediator, but this man was smoking hot. Interacting with him felt like a gift, and I wanted it to keep on giving.

I agreed, but he placed his hand on my shoulder and looked concerned. "It's not gonna be fun. Here, I'll give you 50 bucks for what you'll have to deal with."

He handed me a 50 dollar bill. What could be so bad that he felt like he had to pay me first? Whatever it was, my curiosity was too high to stop now.

"Sure, dude. What is it?"

He stood and turned, walking away. At first I didn't move because I was so taken aback by how massive his ass was. It was huge. It was the biggest ass I'd ever seen. I shook my head and stood up - if I didn't follow him now, I'd lose him. I followed him to a private corner far from anyone else in the room.

Another man stood there. He was slightly slimmer than Jackson, but otherwise had all the same qualities. He was massive, ripped, and beautiful.

"This guy'll judge for us, Aiden," Jackson said.

Aiden looked at me, puzzled. "He's really up for that?"

"I haven't told him yet."

Aiden sighed and shook his head. "Listen, dude, turn back now if you want. You don't want to be in the middle of this."

I certainly did want to be in the middle of these two. Anywhere, anytime. "Tell me what it is," I said.

Jackson turned to me. "This bozo is claiming his farts are manlier than mine. We need someone to let us rip some in their face and smell them to tell us which ones are more manly. You up for that?"

I was shocked. That sounded disgusting. I almost said no, but I noticed another feeling rising up in me. Arousal. No, it couldn't be. Why would I be turned on by that? Then again, this would give me the chance to stick my face right into those godlike asses of theirs.

"Sounds great. Let's start."

They both looked shocked, but they just laughed and pulled out a small scorecard and a pencil. Aiden handed it to me.

"We'll go three rounds, and you'll rank us in three separate categories: power, loudness, and smell. Rank each out of ten, the highest being the most powerful, loud, and stinky vs the lowest being the weakest, quietest, and best smelling. Ok?"

I nodded, writing their names and the categories down on the card. I laid down on my back on one of the benches, resting one of my legs up so they wouldn't see my boner.

Jackson stood above me. "Ready dude?" I nodded. His ass dropped down and engulfed my face. I was so far in, even my ears were completely covered by his ass.

BBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmppppTTTT

The fart ripped out of his ass and assaulted my face. My instincts told me to hold my breath, but I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and nearly vomited on the spot. What the hell did he eat?! My erection grew as I took another whiff of the rotten stench. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his ass against me before tapping his side, letting him know to lift up.

After a moment of fresh air, I turned and grabbed the score card.

Power: 7/10

Loudness: 7/10

Smell: 9/10

Jackson read the score card and groaned. "Two sevens? I gotta step up my game. Let me go grab a soda."

He disappeared around the corner. Aiden got into position above me.

"You good down there?"

"Yup. Drop it on me."

Aiden was much less gentle with his descent. His ass smashed down on my face, shoving my head so far up his ass I could feel his hole just below the tip of my nose. A fart roared from it instantly.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRrrrrNNNNNNNNNNTTTTAAAARRRmmmppppptttttssssssssssssssssssss...

His fart vibrated my head so hard I nearly tapped out from the shock. I took a deep breath. Jesus Christ! The rotten egg smell stinged in my lungs, causing me to cough right up his ass. He began to stand back up, but I grabbed his thighs and kept him down. I took another breath and really marinated in it. I could feel a bit of precum trikling down my dick. I couldn't hide my love of this for long. I tapped his side, and he stood up.

Jackson was already back, sipping on his drink. He had brought one for Aiden too, as well as some packets of trail mix. Aiden sat down and began to eat as I scribbled down numbers on my scorecard.

Power: 9/10

Loudness: 9/10

Smell: 9/10

Jackson moaned again as Aiden pumped his fist in the air.

"I told you bro! I can fart way manlier than you!"

"We still have two rounds to go! I'm gonna catch up, just you wait."

Jackson stood above me again. Without even asking, he plopped down on my face. The familiar scent of his last fart still clung to the fabric of his shorts. He lifted his leg and grunted.

PPPPPPPRRRRRRRmmmmmmmmmNNNNIIIIIIPPPPPRRRRRtt

The fart wasn't very loud, but it nearly shook my skull out of my head with its outward force. I breathed in the musky stench and immediately recognized the smell of a bean burrito. I huffed it in, enjoying every second of it. After a few minutes went by, I realized I was taking too long and tapped on Jackson's side. He raised up.

"Damn, you spent a while on that one. It must've been so weak you couldn't hardly smell it."

Power: 10/10

Loudness: 6/10

Smell: 8/10

When Jackson saw the six, I genuinely thought he was going to punch me in the face. "Six?! SIX?! How can I be doing so bad?!"

Aiden howled, smacking his knee as he rocked back and forth laughing. Jackson started gorging on his food, powering up. Aiden stood above me and sat down, more softly this time.

BBBBBBbbbbbrrrrrrttttt

Even I was disappointed by the fart. It was almost nothing compared to before. I smelled it for a minute or so, but it wasn't anything impressive. I stopped focusing on it just so I could think about Aiden's ass right on my face. If he wasn't wearing shorts, I might've started licking his hole. I tapped him and he sat down next to Jackson.

"I already know that one sucked. It just wasn't right," he said.

Power: 5/10

Loudness: 6/10

Smell: 4/10

Aiden slouched against the lockers and pouted. Jackson grinned, nodding as if this was to be expected.

An idea popped into my head. An opportunity.

"Maybe for the final round, you both should go bare ass. Just so I can get a stronger sense of the scent."

At this point, the situation was so bizarre, neither man thought twice about how suspicious my request was. They nodded in agreement and Jackson moved above me. His shorts and underwear dropped.

I finally got a look at his ass in all its naked glory. It was bulbous and hairy, glistening with sweat from his workout. My mouth watered at the sight of it. I could also see his dick and balls, hanging loose above my head. He lowered down onto my face, his balls slapping against my forehead.

He grunted, but nothing was coming out. He leaned to every side, lifted his legs in every direction, but nothing changed. Aiden laughed, thinking his victory was in the bag.

Jackson raised up and turned the other way, lowering back down so that now his balls laid against the bottom of my lip. He scooted around, wiping my face with his hairy ass. I enjoyed every second of it. I realized my dick was fully erect and prayed they couldn't see the precum through my shorts. He shook his ass some more until a rumble sounded from above.

"That's it. That's the one. Get ready, dude, cause I'm about to blow your fuckin face off."

BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSsssss-rrrrrrAAAAAANNNNNNPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTrrrrrrrrr-bbbBBBBBRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtttttt!

The fart was the loudest, proudest, most powerful fart I'd ever heard in my life. It was like he was a rocket ship and his ass was his engine. I was shocked that he didn't lift straight off the ground. The fart has so much power it literally unhinged my jaw and blew my mouth open. It filled my mouth, throat, and nostrils, making its way to my lungs. I tried to inhale but didn't even need to - it had already filled my body completely. There were so many different tastes and smells, I couldn't even begin to describe it. It was like an entire feast of farts had just been shoved down my throat. I continued to sniff it furiously, rubbing the sides of Jackson's ass as I took in as much as I could. It was heaven. Cum shot out of my dick with such a force, it flew out of my shorts and splattered across Aiden's face. Jackson stood up, but my face came with him. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and shoved my face in deeper, licking his hole. I tongued it so hard I could hear him moaning above me. He sat back down slowly and leaned back, fully allowing me to do what I wanted. Aiden was shocked, but as he put the pieces together, he silently lowered down to my shorts and undid the zipper. He took my dick in his mouth and began cleaning the cum off. As he sucked me off, cum filled his mouth and I moaned into Jackson's ass. He farted again, though it wasn't nearly as powerful. I reached up and started rubbing Jackson's dick. We all sat there, doing what we were doing, until we all came. Aiden flopped down onto the floor as Jackson rose and sat back down on the bench. We all breathed heavily.

"Holy shit man," Jackson said, "I don't know what came over me. I was so freaked out at first, but it felt so good."

Aiden looked at me. "You gotta do me next man. Screw the debate. That looked amazing."

I nodded, but first I grabbed the scorecard and wrote Jackson's newest score down.

Power: 10/10

Loudness: 10/10

Smell: 10/10

Aiden smirked, walking over me and dropped his shorts. Jackson sat on my chest and lowered himself so he could suck me off like Aiden had. Aiden sat on my face and stuck his now-hard dick into Jackson's ass. Jackson began sucked me off as Aiden started humping Jackson, wiping my face with his ass as he moved. New farts shot out every time he moved. I sniffed up every single one.

PPPPPRRRrrrtt

BBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTT

BBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAMMMMPPPPTTT

PPPPRRRRRRRRRRrrrruuuuummmmmm

TTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssss

BBBBBRRRRRRRRrrrrrrmmmmm-PPPRRRRRTTT

and finally, a bubbly BBBLLBLBLLBLBLLBLLBLBLBRRRRRPP

The final, wet fart soaked my face as I shoved my tongue up Aiden's hole. I rimmed him, following his hole with my tongue as he rocked back and forth. I could hear as his dick went in and out of Jackson. Jackson moaned as he went up and down on my dick, sucking up all the precum as it flowed out. We went on with this for nearly 15 minutes before we all came.

Everyone laid flat on the ground. We breathed heavily, but I could tell the other two still held their breath a bit. Their farts had stunk up the air so much it probably counted as a toxic biohazard. I breathed it in happily.

"We should do this again sometime," Aiden said. He grabbed my phone out of my bag and put his number in my contacts. He passed it to Jackson, who did the same. Jackson put us all in a group chat called "Gym Buds" and dropped the phone back into my bag.

"So, who won?" Aiden asked. I laughed, thinking about the insane request that led us all here.

I grabbed the scorecard, lifted it up in the air so they both could see, and ripped it in half.

[gassywill-deactivated20250127]

(Pt 2) The Gassy Master - Jakes Friend Ben

I woke up in a daze, I tried to look around but I couldn’t see anything just the roof. I still felt the sleeping bag as I moved around and I definitely still had the gas mask on. The smell of farts still lingered.

My mouth was so dry with his socks, the taste still very much in my mouth. The horrible taste mixed with the left over gas didn’t help.

I heard the door open, and Jake say “this is it” a male voice I didn’t recognise said “holy fuck, you’ve secured him well” I struggled a bit to see if I could find out who this person was but it was at this point I realised I was strapped down now. That was new.

Jake leant over me and looked down, his cute face smiled with a cheeky grin as he said “I have got you a new friend, his name is Ben he can fart on command and burp on command. Your in for a treat, I’m off out for the day I will be back later” I screamed and squirmed as true smiling Jake moved away from me.

Ben soon showed his face, he towered over me. He was wearing an adidas tracksuit, with white stains around the crotch, my eyes locked onto that bulge. He said “I see you’ve noticed my cum stains, I always cum when I torture slaves”. My eyes widened, what was going to happen to me.

Ben grabbed the tube to the gas mask, un screwing it. This was good maybe he would taker me out of it.

He screwed something back on, I couldn’t tell what it was at first until he showed me two tubes. It was then I realised he had fitted some sort of splitter to attach two tubes. I shaked and moaned. He sat over my chest looking down at me.

He showed me inserting one tube into his tracksuit, the smell immediately hit me. It was rancid. The smell of his ass plus the cum was absolutely toxic. Nothing I had taken before. Where the fuck had Jake found this stinky man.

The other tube he kept a hold of. I then heard him gasping for air, thinking to myself that will teach him. He then placed the tube next to his mouth and let out the loudest burp ever. The whole mask vibrated with the power of it, then the smell hit me. Fuck. It was rancid, I have no idea what he had eaten but it was absolutely toxic. The small was unimaginable. I saw him laugh as he sat over me. Then my cock vibrated, he was sat right on it.

The fart wasn’t too loud, but had a lot of power behind it. The smell again, was toxic. The raw eggy stench filled the mask as he continued to burp down one of the tubes and rip silent but deadly farts down the other end.

Each fart vibrated by dick more and more, each more toxic than the last. They weren’t loud, just powerful and toxic. How would I survive. I moved and thrashed as much as I could, however there was no stopping him.

I was close to cumming, this wasn’t good. This would have been the second time I had came in this toxic sleeping bag. Luckily before I climaxed he got off me. Laying down next to me, he turned the TV on and ignored me. He watched TV for around 2 hours. Gassing down the tube when he needed too.

The other tube that he frequently used for burps was also used for another purpose. He had his trainers, that he would put the tube into, these mixed with the taste of Jakes gag was not good. The smell was just toxic, they clearly hadn’t been washed in years.

I endured this torture for around 3-4 hours in total, even with him watching TV. I didn’t realise how bad this was going to be when Jake got back. I heard the door open, Jake belched loudly as he entered the room saying “guess who’s back” Ben farted one more time, and belched down the gas mask saying to Jake “he’s been a good slave, i have kept him entertained”

Jake laughed, he then ripped the gas mask off me, meaning i could finally move my head slightly, i looked around and Jake was at the door, with a cute twink gagged and bound nest to him… what was this? What was he going to do with him?

[gassywill-deactivated20250127]

(Pt 1) The Gassy Master - Meet Up

/ Story based a little on truth and what me and Jake actually get up too, but might make this a series - includes farts, burps, cum \

I didn’t know what to expect, I met the guy online. Jake was his name, he was cute and very kinky and he had a fart fetish which I kinda liked the idea of as it sounded pretty controlling and a fitting punishment for me. I hadn’t really done much with guys, I am not really into the usual stuff like anal, I just wanted to be controlled by someone, however I didn’t quite know what that would look like.

That’s when I found him, I was on Tinder and as I was swiping through then this brown haired guy smiled out of the screen at me. He was cute, and way out of my league. I scrolled down the see his profile:

“Looking for my next victim, think you can handle being used for hours on end? Swipe right.”

I did just that. I waited, and waited then about a week later we matched and he messaged me:

“Hey bitch, so you think you could take it?”

I was in shock, having never done anything like this is hesitantly replied, “yes” he snapped back with “yes, what?” I didn’t quite know what he meant, he then replied again saying “you should say yes master” I agreed, as I typed messages back and forth by dick throbbed.

We eventually decided to meet, on Saturday. It was Friday. To say I was scared was a MASSIVE understatement.

I walked into his apartment with my overnight bag, being optimistic I had packed for a night. He lead me into his room, Jake’s massive ass bouncing up and down as he walked around. It’s at this point to mention he was even hotter in person, like just cute. I would not have expected him to be like what he was.

The bed was in the centre of his room, on the bed was a very thick sleeping bag to the side of it were leather handcuffs and then a gas mask. This made me more nervous, sure he told me what he was gonna do to me, but I didn’t really believe it. Until now.

He looked at me and said “you sure about this” I replied quietly with “yes” he looked at me, anger building in his face he ran towards me and thew me against the wall, pinning my neck with his muscly arm. He said “what?” I didn’t know what he meant. He went in to kiss me, as I closed my eyes and opened my mouth slightly I felt him belch right down my throat “wtf” I said, he looked at me and went “wtf master you mean” keeping a strong tight hold.

He held my head and belched towards my nose once more, this smelling even more awful. He looked right into my eyes and said “call me master, or I will publish you harder” I nodded to agree.

Wasn’t going to make that mistake again. With the taste and smell of his disgusting burp still lingering he gestured over to the bed, saying the words “strip for me”. I took off my clothes and waited for my next instructions.

He came over and attached the leather handcuffs to my hands and feet, I wasn’t free anymore. He dragged me over to the bed, and told me to get into the sleeping bag. It was quite cosy being honest, felt nice against the skin but stank of rotten eggs and weeks old dry cum.

He slowly zipped up the bag, with a little laugh as he did it. He looked down and said “right bitch, it’s time for me to unload this gas I’ve been holding in” I was a bit scared and asked by master if we could wait a few minutes before starting.

Instead of doing that, he took his socks off, they were meant to be white I think, but the whole bottom was brown. I could smell them from here. He told me to open wide, after what happened with the burp I didn’t was to refuse.

I opened my mouth and he stuffed his sock in, fuck. It tasted bad. So bad, I can’t even begin to scribe the taste it was just rotten. I tried spitting it out, but he held my mouth shut. He grabbed some gaffa tape and bound my mouth shut.

I was now silent, not able to protest the stinky torture I was about to endure. He reached over me and grabbed the gas mask, as I shook my head in protest thinking he would listen the grin on his face grew.

Had he done this before? He must of. But he was so excited for it to happen, I was beginning to regret what I had agreed too. I was secured, no escape in a thick sleeping bag, gagged with his dirty sock and now having a gas mask fitted to my face.

I could see out the eye holes of the mast, my view was mostly restricted. I felt him sit next to me, I looked up and could see him, he looked like he was towering over me, he was still hot even after all this.

I felt him attach a tube to the bottom of the gas mask, as I breathed the smell was ok. Then all of a sudden the smell and feel of the air changed, the air was warm and smelt a little eggy. I thought, this is it, I think I can handle this.

He looked down and said “ready bitch boy?” I then realised that smell was just his ass, not a fart. Shook my head, he smiled and let out a massive bubbly fart down the tube, I heard the sound of it, then the smell hit me in waves.

It was TOXIC, absolutely vile. I had no choice to inhale it, my mouth full of his disgusting socks. I screamed, muffled by his socks and forced to breath in his deadly air, the eye holes started to condensate making it very difficult to see anything.

I tried to move but I was stuck, then he ripped another vile fart down the tube, this time was even worse than last time. This is the moment I felt his hand go down to my dick. Through the sleeping bag he touched my dick rubbing it, making me harder and harder.

He was basically wanking me off to his deadly gas, but he was very good at this. It felt so good, but the smell was so bad. He ripped even more farts, each louder and stinkier than the last. It was gross, I was screaming my dick getting harder and harder as he used it, until… I came. It felt amazing although that was short lived as a massive SBD ripped down the tube all I could do was smell it, I didn’t hear it coming. Just the toxic wave of air made it so much worse. It was this moment I passed out cold.

Who want’s part two? Comment below.