HornyNastyWriting

The histories featured are of homosexual nature and nasty fetish. All characters are fictional and 18+, any similarities to reality are a mere coincidence. Predominant Fetishes focus on humiliation and degradation (because that's what really gets me going) with a focus on Nasty things like: Farting (Epoctrophila), Sweat, Urination and Scat. Irregular upload frequency.

[hornyraunchstories]

Maybe Jake could convince his friends his brother is into being used as a toilet too? Or Tyler could just do it to him without telling the other two?

I’ll think about it, I meant to do that one as a standalone but perhaps I’ll do a snippet on it. I’m kinda surprised by how well received it was tbh.

[hornyraunchstories]

I really enjoyed your story "A lesson in Humility" and was thinking that if you were open to prompts I would love to see a story similar where someone is turned into a toilet/toilets pov and it's a toilet that gets used and clogged but it's in a super busy place so people just continue to use it until it's overflowing with piss and shit. Person after person continuing to use it no matter how high the pile is getting or how gross the mess is would be such a great read!

I’ve been thinking about doing another object transformation story, perhaps as a urinal and eventually go the “please don’t shit on the urinals” way.

However, another thing that’s been striking my fancy in the back burner of my mind is the “common sense” alteration or “perception hypnosis”. Like, let’s say, someone uses mass hypnosis to make everyone believe that Human Toilets are a normal thing (a normal reasonable punishment for example) or to make everyone perceive a person as a normal toilet. But in both cases only the victim in question remains aware of it but forced to play along in one way or another.

It’s just a concept for now, but perhaps once I have the setup figured out I’ll try writing a story. I accept ideas.

[hornyraunchstories]

I’m so envious, and also I so really want to write a TV show/Entertainment setting 😩. But I really don’t know what to make it about.

[hornyraunchstories]

Gassy Movie Night

Alex is forced to spend a movie marathon night with his older brother Jake and his two friends. However, Jake lies and tells them he has a fart fetish, and from there all unfolds

…..

The dim glow of the TV screen flickered across the cluttered bedroom that Jake and his younger brother Alex shared in their family's old house. Posters of rock bands and video game characters peeled at the edges on the walls, and the air smelled faintly of stale pizza from earlier. 

It was a lazy Friday night, and Jake, his older brother had invited his buddies Mike and Tyler over for a movie marathon. The two of them shared a room, with two separate beds.

However, Jake had pressured him onto giving up his bed, placing the two of them together so he and his bros could all sit together.

The three of them sprawled across the two mattresses that the brothers used, reclined against the headboard Jake was claiming the center spot as usual, Mike and Tyler squeezed in on either side, passing around a bowl of nachos loaded with extra cheese and beans.

Alex had been roped into joining them. He sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed on a sleeping bag, trying to focus on the movie they were watching. It was some sort of comedy.

Jake paused the movie midway through, right after a fart joke scene passed across the screen, a mischievous glint in his eye as he turned to his friends. 

"Guys, hold up. You gotta hear this about my little bro here." Mike and Tyler leaned in, curiously. Jake continued, "So, Alex has this secret fart fetish. Total weirdo thing, but please don’t kink shame him. I discovered it last month bed, you remember how gassy I got after taco Tuesday?” They both nodded remembering, fuck Jake was nasty.

“Well, let one rip to his bed, and when I looked to see him coughing and gagging, I see the kid jacking off like no tomorrow.."

Mike burst out laughing, nearly spilling the nachos. "No way, dude! You farts are noxious."

 Tyler nodded, chuckling as he interjected."It makes sense though, think about it, it explains why he's always hanging around when we eat junk food, and why he doesn’t complain even though we reek of sweat after practice."

Truthfully he did mind, but Jake had him threatened not to complain.

Alex's face flushed crimson. "That's a lie! Jake, you're full of crap. I hate that stuff, who could even get off on that! Stop making stuff up!"

Jake just shook his head, feigning concern. "Nah, bro, it's cool. We're all friends here. No need to deny it."

Mike and Tyler exchanged looks and piled on, their voices dripping with sympathy. "Yeah, Alex, don't sweat it. Your fetish is a bit out there, but we support you."

The mood shifted as Jake rubbed his stomach, glancing at the empty chip bag. "Speaking of, that bean dip is hitting me hard. We're all getting gassy from this movie night grub, and it always stinks up the room when we hang out. But hey, this could be perfect, we can give Alex a real good experience. Turn it into something interesting for him, right? Kill two birds: he gets his fix, and we don't have to air out the whole place later."

Mike had a light bulb moment. "Totally dude, It's like we're doing him a favor. He gets a nice hard on and we can just let it rip comfortably."

Tyler joined in, following the trend "Yeah, dude, embrace it. I actually been holding it a bit, and it’s not comfortable to try to dissimulate. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone and we’ll make sure you enjoy every bit."

Before Alex could bolt, the three of them pounced. Jake grabbed his arms, Mike pinned his legs, and Tyler rummaged in the closet for some old jump ropes they'd used for wrestling matches. 

"Hold still, little bro," Jake said, holding him down and Mike looped the rope around Alex's wrists and tied them up before positioning him horizontally across the top of the bed. "It’s okay to be ashamed, but you’re gonna have a great time, and hey, you'll help us out too, by the end of it we’ll all have something else we share."

Alex squirmed and protested. "Let me go! This is messed up, I don’t like farts, you idiots!" But they ignored him, Tyler securing his ankles next. He tugged futilely at the bonds, his heart pounding with humiliation.

The guys didn't waste time taking turns, they instead all piled in at once, treating Alex's tied body like a shared cushion or unwilling lounge chair. 

"Relax," Jake said sitting on top of him, taking the first pick he chose to sit at the head, letting his heavy ass settle over Alex’s face, as he moved his ass from side to side trying to find a comfortable position. Alex felt the soft fabric of his brother’s sport shorts scrapping against his face, already able to smell the sweating ass as he almost scratched his buttock on him with his movements. He wasn’t that worn either, as seated there gave Jake a bit of an itch, finally settling in a spot that had Alex’s nose scrunched comfortably right against his crack so he only needed to jerk his hips a little to get a nice scratch, his left cheek resting against his mouth and chin and his right cheek covering most of his eyes.

Mike was the lightest of the bunch, and he stretched across the middle, his ass resting firm over Alex's stomach and ribs. He liked the feeling of Alex’s chest going up and down as well as feeling him squirm, plus it was the most even seat of his body.

Tyler anchored at the bottom sitting over Alex’s hips, however he didn’t let Alex’s dick slide between his own cleft instead crushing it under his right cheek. He was more of a secret sadist and wanted to crush Alex’s dick under his weight before testing if farting over Alex’s dick would give him a hard on. He figured the little fart masochist would enjoy a play such as that, and lamented not being able to sit at the face to fart down his throat.

They pulled the heavy comforter over their laps and hips, sealing Alex's body and trapping him in the dim, stuffy darkness under the blankets. "Time for a Dutch oven special. It's okay, bro, you can stop faking it. We all know you love smelling our stinky farts." 

The combined pressure pinned him down like a human mattress, their legs grinding subtly as they settled in to watch the screen, the blanket turning the space into a sweltering sauna just from the body heat and sweat the young men produced. 

He gasped for air, but every breath pulled in the thickening warmth and ass smell of his brother, he tried to squirm but all the others needed to do was pin him down more harshly under their weight. 

The heat built fast, like a sealed oven preheating, sweat beading on Alex's forehead and trickling down his temples as the guys shifted for comfort. However, he also could feel them passing around snacks, as their stomachs gurgled and vibrations passed into him through the contact on their skin.

To his surprise, it was Mike the one who first let out a fart. Silently and without saying nothing, he just felt as what seemed as the most level headed of the trio leaned a bit, raising his ass as he let out a scorching hot silent but deadly.

Alex felt as the fumes exhausted the boy’s body and slid across his belly, almost like a hot liquid, before dispersing in the air under the blanket.

However that didn’t meant the fart had gone away, and as the air felt a bit warmed than before, Alex felt himself jerk under his brother’s ass as the foul smell hit him. It smelled like hot sewage, and he really wondered what could a guy eat to have their farts smell like that.

Jake felt him jerk and raised an eyebrow over the blanket, looking to the two other guys. He had felt the blanket becoming a bit warmer just now.

“Who beat me to the first fart dudes?” He asked.

“I think it was Mike” Said Tyler. “I still don’t let it rip”

“Wha-? Me? Of course no”. 

“Dude, there’s only three of us here”

“Okay, it was me”.

“Fuck” Said Tyler. “It must’ve been a deadly one I could feel him squirm dude”.

“Haha, sorry, I had chili to eat and it hasn’t settled down that well”

“Nah bro, don’t sweat it” Jake said “You just let it rip under the blanket and we have no problem, Alex likes them stinkier anyways.”

And as if to demonstrate, he pressed down his weight, pushing out a rumbling fart that he had felt brewing for a while already.

The sound was a wet, guttural roar that vibrated through Alex’s skull, the force of it pushing his brother’s heavy cheek deeper into his face. It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical assault of pressure and heat that blasted directly into Alex’s nostrils. For a second, the world disappeared, an earthquake shook his head and all his senses were replaced entirely by the concentrated, sulfurous essence of Jake’s digestive system. The scent was thick and humid, tasting of old protein and processed cheese, clinging to the lining of Alex’s nose like a physical film. He tried to turn his head, but the sheer weight of Jake’s backside acted like a fleshy seal, forcing him to inhale to the last remnants of the blast.

Jake let out a satisfied sigh, shifting his weight to grind his backside against Alex’s cheeks. "Oh man, that one had some real kick to it," he chuckled, his voice muffled but triumphant above the blanket. He could feel Alex shuddering beneath him, the struggling breathing only serving to pull more of the stagnant, foul air deeper into his lungs. "Look at him, he's practically vibrating. I think he's finally admitting he loves this."

Not to be outdone, Tyler shifted his position at the bottom. He leaned forward, lifting his hips just enough to create a small pocket of space between his skin and Alex’s groin before slamming back down. The result was a sharp, staccato series of pops— machine-gun farts that ripped through the fabric of his shorts. 

Each little burst was hot and pungent, vibrating against Alex’s cock and balls, which along with the crushing made them hurt and vibrate as if receiving a quick punch with a vibrating wand. The fart smelled of the heavy bean dip they had gorged on as well as chocolate protein shakes. Because Tyler was perched right over Alex’s pelvis, the fumes didn't just linger; they drifted upward like a snake over his body, swirling in the sweltering heat of the blanket-tunnel and mixing with the lingering scent of Jake’s blast.

Tyler groaned in relief, his muscles relaxing as he felt the pressure leave his gut. "Damn, my stomach. Thanks for the assist, Alex. You're like a human air freshener, just absorbing everything we throw at you," he joked, his tone dripping with a playful cruelty. He deliberately pressed his backside harder against Alex’s hips, feeling the boy's desperate attempts to squirm away from the invisible cloud of gas that now saturated the space beneath the comforter.

Alex was sweating as the atmosphere under the blanket now thick, humid, and smelling like a locker room in the middle of July. 

Jake looked over at Mike, who was currently the most silent of the group. 

"Hey, Mike, you've been too quiet. We know you've still got some of that chili working its way through. Give us a real show, man. Give the little guy something to really wake up for," Jake commanded, a smirk evident in his voice.

Mike chuckled, shifting his torso. so he could lean back and put more pressure on Alex’s chest. He took a deep breath, bracing himself. "Alright, alright. I've been holding back a big one, but if the boss says let it rip, who am I to argue?"

Alex felt Mike’s stomach gurgle against his ribs, a low, rolling vibration that signaled something significant was coming. He tried to hold his breath, closing his eyes tight, but there was nowhere to hide. He was the foundation for their comfort, the living mattress for their leisure.

Mike shifted his hips, angling himself perfectly. He didn't go for a silent one this time. He scooted over a bit to fart on Alex’s stomach with everything he had, and a thunderous ripping fart that echoed loudly under the blankets, the sound vibrating through Alex, making the distinctive sound.

As the sound faded, the silence that followed was filled only by the sound of the three older boys laughing. "Holy shit, Mike! That sounded like a landslide!" Jake roared, leaning down to press his cheek even harder against Alex’s face. "Did you feel that, Alex? That was a real powerhouse. Bet you're loving every second of this 'torture,' aren't you?"

Under the blanket, Alex couldn't answer. He was gasping for air in a pocket of foul, recycled gas, his face flushed and his mind swirling. Despite his protests, the overwhelming sensory overload and the sheer absurdity of the situation were starting to blur his thoughts.

The night continued like that without a hitch. At least on the trio’s side. They released their gas at their leisure, transforming the zone under the blanket into a chamber gas from their guts. 

It wasn’t for nothing that it was called a Dutch Oven.

At some point however, as they changed into the second movie of the same franchise Tyler asked.

“Hey, Jake, could you exchange with me please? I really want to give it a go there”.

Jake thought about it a bit before responding.

“I don’t know man, I could use a change of scenery since the head is a bit hard, but i don’t want to sit so near my brother’s dick y’know?” He paused “Hey Mike, would you exchange with Ty? Then we all move over one”.

“Sure why not” said Mike shrugging.

Tyler grin’s spread his face in half.

They lifted themselves up from their places briefly. Alex finally got a chance to breathe as a little fresh air inevitably entered the comforter and the weight was released. The guys grumbled about the fart smell leaking a bit.

However the rest was short lived, as they once again all settled into their new positions, Alex had missed his opportunity.

"Now, where was I?" Tyler chuckled, now nested above Alex’s face, his voice echoing slightly above the blanket. 

Tyler didn’t just settle into the spot, he decided to finally do what he had wanted. He took a deep breath, bracing his core and reached down beneath the heavy fold of the comforter and, with a quick, practiced motion, tugged his own athletic shorts down past his hips. The sudden rush of cool air against his own skin was fleeting, quickly replaced by the searing heat of the trapped space.

He didn’t tell the others; he simply shifted his weight, sliding his bare cheeks directly onto Alex’s face. The sensation was immediate and visceral, the raw, warm skin of Tyler’s backside pressed firmly against Alex’s lips and nose, creating a fleshy, airtight seal that left no room for error.

For a few seconds, there was a deceptive silence. Alex felt the shift and instinctively tried to part his lips to gasp for air, but he found only the smooth, oppressive weight of Tyler’s bare glutes, small curly and oily hair tickling his lips. 

He felt a surge of panic as he realized the "breather" he had hoped for during the swap had been a trap. Tyler, feeling the wetness of Alex’s frantic breathing against his skin, smirked. He knew he was struggling, but he also knew that the most effective and satisfying way (for him)  to do this deliver his charge was to ensure Alex’s mouth was wide open.

"He's still fighting it, Jake," Tyler murmured, his voice vibrating through the blanket. "He's keeping his mouth shut. I can't get a good seal for the blast."

Jake, who was now lounging comfortably in the middle said "Hold on, let me help him open up for you,"  Then without a warning, shifted his position and suddenly heaved his hips upward, using his momentum to slam his weight down onto Alex’s chest. The impact was sudden and jarring, a heavy thud that knocked the remaining air right out of Alex’s lungs. The sudden pressure forced Alex’s mouth to fly open in a reflexive, silent gasp for oxygen.

In that exact moment of vulnerability, Tyler seized the opportunity. He didn't just let it go; he braced himself, lifting his hips just a fraction of an inch to create a pressurized pocket, and then slammed back down, positioning his hole perfectly between Alex’s parted lips, and timing the impact perfectly with a massive, guttural eruption of gas. The fart wasn't just a sound; it was a concentrated, high-pressure jet of sulfur and heat that blasted directly into Alex’s open mouth. It was a violent, humid intrusion, tasting of the bean dip and the deep hellish rot of Tyler’s gut. 

Not only that, but he felt as a slimy coat spared though his mouth, making him gag violently.

“Ups” was all Tyler said to that. He had pushed a bit too hard and ended up with a wet fart. Well, those things happen.

Alex’s on the other hand has his eyes flew wide open behind the curtain of skin and fabric as the foul cloud filled his oral cavity, flooding his throat and forcing him to swallow the essence of the blast. 

He tried to cough, but the action only served to draw the smog deeper into his lungs. The smell was different from Jake’s, sharper, more acidic, like old eggs left in a hot car. It was a sensory overload that made his head spin, the sheer intensity of the smell mixing with the suffocating heat of the blanket.

"What the fuck did you eat man!" Mike roared, laughing as he felt Alex’s body convulse beneath him. The little quicks had shaken him and made him spill some chips.

“Holy fuck, why he didn’t react to mine that way, dude, you’re rotten inside ” Said Jake, unaware Tyler had slid done his shorts and done it bareback.

He didn't pull away; instead, he began to grind his backside into Alex's face, rubbing the lingering remnants of the gas into the boy's skin. "Did you taste that, Alex? That was a special delivery just for you. I bet you can still feel it hitting the back of your throat, can't you?"

Mike, perched at the bottom, started laughing so hard he nearly slid off the bed. "God, I can smell it from here! That was a fucking biohazard! I swear man you need to eat more vegetables or something." He shifted his weight, feeling the way Alex was shivering in a mixture of shock and sensory overload. 

“Wait, I think I have another one in the chamber”

“Dude dude! Wait let me join you!” Said Jake. “You too Mike, c’mon”

“Okok”

The trio counted down

“1…

…2

…3”

The three farted at the same time, and the blanket inflated under the onslaught. Alex, unable to stand anymore abuse, trembled a bit and passed out. Tyler felt it first and quickly dragged his shorts up before notifying. The guys assumed he had enjoyed it too much as they mistook the trembling for an orgasm, and Jake didn’t correct them on the fart fetish thing, but ultimately let him out as he slept.

However, they were eager to make this a routine, as it was a very effective and enjoyable way to deal with their gas.

[hornyraunchstories]

Did you ever read the stories on deviantart by the user therealnerd? His account isn’t there anymore but he had some of the best swirlie stories ever

don’t know him, right now I’m mourning the loss of bluedinosaur77 which also is @7kbuttcheeks2, but he had so many stories there that he doesn’t have anywhere else to :(

[hornyraunchstories]

I have this particular fetish regarding farts and stink where the person who is forcing me to smell them insists that I like their stink. No matter how much it actually disgusts me they just laugh it off saying stuff like “stop pretending. We both know you love my farts” Forcing me into scenarios where I’m gagging on their stench and they tell me they’ll let me go if I admit that I like the smell. And then usually once I do that they ignore their end of the bargain and say something like “well if you like it that much here’s some more!”

I’m not sure why I like this sort of dynamic so much, maybe it’s like an added layer of humiliation. How do you feel about that sort of dynamic? And what’s your favorite dynamic?

I do like that, the added sort of humiliation and the misunderstanding or apparent misunderstanding and ultimately disregard of the attempts to clear the air make it funny and hot. I like that sort of I guess “foreplay” or added thing.

I think my favorite dynamic is someone who thinks they’re forced to do something. Like not actually physically tied up, but convinced or socially/circumstancially forced to do something. Like in a bet, or like a frat hazing, maybe blackmail or maybe even by a contract or something similar. Just so the victim is like “I have to do this because there’s no other option…” or “a bet’s a bet”. Especially if there’s other observers to sort of peer pressure.

I just think it makes it like an active participant even with the unwillingness to actually do it.

Actually I think I have full draft for you somewhere on my docs, since I think you already asked this once, let me look it up.

[hornyraunchstories]

Story idea, a group of dudes go camping and take theire “multipurpose” fag with them, he will be used for all theire needs, during the day as a cumdump, urinal, toilet, ashray/spitoon, ect. And at night he spends trapped in a sleepingbag huffing one of the bross asses

I think I’ll do this but on the concept of the “gross frat”. I already some of it written.

[hornyraunchstories]

Hi, I was wondering if you will ever post the porta potty story? Not trying to rush you, I just really like the idea and would love to read it

Yes, um the thing is… I sorta wrote it halfway and then came up blank (really, I have quite a few of those already). So… I’ll probably upload it at some point once I regain interest, once I do some tune ups. I actually already wrote the full draft of another petition simple petition but because I thought it was a little repetitive I’ve also been holding onto it.

Currently, I’ve been toying with another half draft I have which is a spin-off of one of WritingGross Stories.

As well as some other concepts. Since I do this as a hobby and a way to vent I loose track of things (I did say irregular uploads though). Tbh people, I probably write more when I feel a little pent up or stressed out and take it out on the characters lol. Or when I’m simply horny. But you’d be surprised the number of incomplete drafts.

[hornyraunchstories]

Gassy Game

I’m pretty sure this was a petition but I may have accidentally deleted it. Anyway, it’s slightly repetitive but here it is. The prompt was something along the lines of “What if someone desperate to fit in their family offers themselves to judge a fart contest but even starting they regret it and in comparison to his dad farts the others are flowers”.

Michael walked down to the kitchen for a quick bite. His Uncle, Father and Brother were watching football together in the living room. He would’ve joined, but he didn’t really understand the game that much altogether.

Plus, they were really close to each other. Not like he had a bad relationship with them or something, but they bonded in some… unique ways.

“Oh man! That’s nasty!” Says his father as he punches his uncle's arms playfully.

“C’mon unc! Not so close to the snacks!” His brother similarly pinches his nose, wearing a smile on his face as he fans the stench away with his other hand.

“You’re just envious I am better than you! Hahaha!”

“Fuck you! We already had that discussion!”

“Yeah! There’s no way to truly know!”

“Then let’s compete again!” Said his uncle. “We’ve been fueling up all afternoon, surely you’re not chicken!”

“Ha! You bet I am not” Said his father “Bring it on Tommy, I’ll make you regret it”

“Calm down you two fossils, how are we even gonna do a contest even? It’s not like anyone is willing to be the judge or something”. Said Lucas, his older brother. “I sure as hell won’t be it”

That’s when an Idea sparked in Michael’s mind. It was a bad idea, truly. But he wanted to be part of the group. And he was stupidly impulsive.

So before he could catch himself he said.

“I can do it!” He paused nervously as the trio turned around “be the judge, I mean”

“Great then!” Said uncle Thomas “I’ve been waiting for so long and now you two won’t be able to cheat against me!”

“Hahaha” laughed his father heartily. “Come here then! And remember later you asked for it!” He said.

With that said, the three men scooted over, making a place for him at the end of the couch.

Once he was sitting there, his brother Lucas turned towards him,

“Are you sure about it bro? It’s gonna be rank”. He said.

Michael started getting nervous, however, he finally steeled himself to continue. If he backed away now, he’d look ridiculous plus everyone would be disappointed.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great then!” Interjected his uncle again. “We’ll do it like this; until the game ends you can stay there then actually, watch it with us if you want, and we’ll just position ourselves in front of you when we feel a fart brewing so you can sniff it up. At the end you just need to tell us who’s farts gave you the worst experience”

“Good thinking, if we do that we’ll avoid stinking the place and the snacks” said his father with little regard to his sons possible plead, and more relieved that the house wouldn’t end up smelling of stale farts again.

Michael sat on the couch, heart pounding as the three men turned toward him with matching grins. Lucas moved first, stepping right in front of his younger brother with a nervous smirk.

It wasn’t the first time he participated on one of the contests, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t take glee on it. Sure, he felt a little weird that it was his brother who’d play the judge, they’d usually just didn’t have a judge, or got an unfortunate, often drunk fool who didn’t know what he was getting on,  or one of them if lost a bet. 

But also… he had already been there done that.

Thankfully not recently.

It wasn’t until he could manage to make both of them cough a little with one of his farts, and started taunting them saying they wanted him to judge because they were scared of him.

Obviously it was bullshit, but hey it worked!

He didn’t actually think Michael realized what he had gone into.

Anyway, he’d live and learn.

But for now he’d have fun. It’s much more enjoyable being on the fun part of the event, he thought as his face slipped into an evil grin.

"Alright, judge," Lucas said, turning his back, bending his knees a little and spreading his stance. "Please put yourself into position"

Michael swallowed little at the sight of his brother’s sport shorts clad ass. They were thin and sweaty, and it was clear he hadn’t taken a bath yet ever since he went to the gym before the game started.

Still, he approached, having just a bit before his ass. Or that was the case before his father reached pushing him into the sweaty fabric. With practiced ease, he dragged his face across his brother’s ass as he positioned his nose on top of his hole.

“Now take deep breaths through your nose” said his uncle. Michael listened, and breathed in the stale stench of his brothers unwashed shorts, it smelled like sweat and ass.

He continued breathing like that for a small while, not feeling anything.

Feeling that, Lucas did not give any warning.

Michael only felt his hole twitch one moment, and the next.

PRrrtpppt

Lucas let out a short, sharp fart that hit Michael square in the face. The blast was hot and wet, burning his nostrils and crawling carrying a thick, sour stench that made Michael's eyes water instantly. It clung to his nostrils, sharp like spoiled eggs mixed with something meatier.

Michael coughed up, already regretting his decision.

"Fuck, that's nasty," His dad muttered, having caught a whiff that escaped and waving a hand in front of his nose.

Lucas laughed and then grunted as he pushed back a little closer. He ripped another one, longer this time, the sound wet and bubbling. The smell grew heavier, filling Michael's lungs with each breath. His stomach twisted and he felt lightheaded. This was worse than he expected, and they were just getting started.

Uncle Thomas stepped up next, shoving Lucas aside. "My turn. Watch how it's done." He bent forward, cheeks spreading against his jeans, and unleashed a long, rolling fart that vibrated through the fabric. The odor was deeper, more rotten, like old cabbage left in the sun. It layered over Lucas's stench, making the air thick and humid.

Michael gagged repeatedly and tried to back off, but the firm hand of his brother had replaced the one of his uncle and held him firmly against the denim, scraping his nose against the rough fabric.

"I’m not finished yet," Uncle Thomas grinned, already lining up for another, and Michael was pushed back inside. He let loose a second blast, hotter and louder, the force making Michael think he’d burn a hole through the denim. The smell hit harder, sour and meaty, sticking to Michael's hair and clothes.

His father pushed forward last, unbuckling his belt with a laugh. "Save the best for last."  His father unbuckled with a laugh and lowered just the ass part of his boxers, they hung mid cheek revealing just a bit of a hairy crack, and in the area of that cleft between the cheeks there was a stain marked by a sweat mark, a favor from the hot weather and excitement the game had brought.

He already could feel the heat and smell radiate onto his skin.

His father backed straight into Michael’s face, the damp, heavy fabric of his boxers pressing firmly against Michael's nose and lips. The smell was an immediate, suffocating wall of musk; thick, salty, and fermented.

He felt the muscle in his father's cheek twitch, a warning sign that sent a jolt of pure panic through his chest. Then, a deep, guttural rumble vibrated through the fabric, and a massive, wet-sounding blast tore through the cloth.

It wasn't just a smell; it was an almost physical assault. A violation of his senses. The gas was scorching, saturated with the scent of old underwear and rotting sulfur, hitting Michael’s nostrils like a thick, invisible sludge.

It sent him retching, and he tried to back away. However, his uncles iron grip pushed him deeper as he struggled.

“Damn” he heard his brother mutter distantly.

He tried to hold his breath, but the sheer force of the blast seemed to push the stench deeper into his sinuses. 

He felt his stomach flip, a wave of genuine nausea washing over him as he realized the air he was breathing was almost entirely composed of his father's concentrated waste. *What have I done?* he thought, his eyes streaming as he gagged against the damp fabric, feeling the heat of the gas linger on his skin long after the sound had stopped.

As the air slowly cleared, his father stepped away, looking satisfied as he fall back on the couch.

The three men looked at Michael, who was trembling and gasping for fresh air, his face flushed a deep red.

“Look at you! You’re practically beet red and trembling hahaha,” Lucas joked, leaning over to pat Michael’s shoulder.

"It seems self evident that I beat you both once again, hahaha! Michael cannot even respond after me!" Said his father.

His uncle made a face. “Tch, I didn't fuel up properly, if I knew we where gonna play I’d have eaten a better breakfast!” He complained before turning his attention towards Michael in a conspiratorial manner. “Anyways, You did a hell of a job, nephew. You’ve got a real stomach for this. You wanted to hang out with us, didn’t you? So, why stop now? If you just stay right there, we can all just vent into you. You know how this affects the men in the family. That way the living room stays fresh and the snacks don't get contaminated.”

"Great idea" Said his father "Are you in? What about making it my prize eh"

Michale wanted to say no, but his insecure part of himself won again under the pressure and he muttered.

"Sure I guess, the game’s already halfway done anyway isn't it?"

His brother silently mouthed `your funeral`.

….

[7kbuttcheeks2]

Grizzly Bear

This was a really old story, one I thought I lost way back from the first tumblr purge. People have been asking for it lately and I found out I did have a copy;

...

Growing up as the youngest of five brothers meant my life was a living hell. My parents were always working, so that meant my oldest brother Jackson was in charge. Since I was the youngest, I was always the punching bag for their pranks.

Sometimes my brother Aiden would dump his dirty laundry over me. The worst was that he had taken one of his dirty socks, stuffed it into my mouth, and tied the other sock around my mouth so I couldn’t spit it out. He did this after handcuffing me to a chair with dad’s spare handcuffs [he was a cop] and then he’d drop a pair of dirty boxers over my face, making sure the part that was over his ass would line up with my nose, and leave me there for an hour.

Sometimes my brother Liam loved giving me wedgies. I’d be lying on my stomach on the carpet, watching cartoons, and suddenly I’d feel my underwear yank up, squeezing my crotch and burning my ass crack. I’d scream as my whole body was lifted off the ground by the back of my underwear, Ethan cackling over me like an evil god.

Oliver would love to hit me when I’d least expect it. Most often I’d walk out of the bathroom in the morning and his fist would swing out of nowhere to hit my arm or my gut. The gut was the worst, those would make me double over. Sometimes he’d swing around from behind a corner and let his hand at full force slap my butt. That always stung. 

But worst of all was Jackson, and the hierarchy of gas. The “hierarchy” was a term he made up. Basically, you were allowed to burp and fart on any brother younger than you. So he got to share his gas with all of us. In order of oldest to youngest, it was him, Aiden, Liam, Oliver, and then me. That meant that I was always going to be a target for a gassy mouth or butt, and I couldn’t burp or fart back at any of them. Oliver loves to tell me that he’s so glad I was born, because when he was the youngest, he would get the worst of Jackson’s ass blasts. 

It was normal for me to be woken up in bed with one of their butts pointed in my face. The second I’d realized what I was looking at, I’d hear the fart sputtering at me, and I would jump back, saying “ew” and moaning, trying to get away from the stink cloud that would hit me no matter what. It was normal for me to be laying on the ground watching TV and suddenly feel weight against the back of my head, and then hear and feel a fart vibrating into my hair. Aiden likes to call that “shampoot”.

Jackson was above all, the worst. He’s free to fart on whoever he wants, but most often he’ll only burp at the others. We’d be having lunch, he’d burp and blow it at one of their faces. We’d laugh, they’d groan in disgust. But he seemed to save nearly all of his gas for me personally.

Once, when I was really young, I was playing around on my bed. The bed frame had a crevice in the middle that was just big enough for me to squeeze through, and so I would pretend I was a criminal escaping prison. While I was playing, I’d twisted at an awkward angle and got my chest stuck in the frame. My head and upper half was laying on the bed, my arms and legs were sticking out from the end. I started freaking out, crying for help. Jackson rushed in, “What’s up little buddy? You ok?” All of my brothers had dark hair, but Jackson was the oldest and the hairiest. His chest, arms, and legs were coated in black hair.

“I’m stuck, help me out!”

I saw the evil grin cross his face, “Sure thing bro. Gimme a sec, I want to unwind.”

He didn’t pronounce it as “unwind,” but rather “un-wind”, like deflating. My eyes widened, I kept saying “NO, no no no no!!” But it was too late. He had picked up my blanket, dropped it over my head, and then looking up, I saw his lower half stick under the blanket, his shorts covered butt pointed at my face. 

PRPTRPTRPTP

He farted over and over. My arms and legs flailed from the end of the bed. I screamed, he laughed, he watched TV while I was stuck in the Dutch oven.

That’s the kind of brother Jackson was. He loved making me suffer through his farts.

The best/worst example of this was whenever we played Grizzly Bear. I remember the first time I played that game well.

“Hey Noah,” I was sitting on the couch when I heard Jackson say my name. I turned my head and saw him and the rest of my brothers standing over me, their arms folded. “We’re gonna play Grizzly Bear. And you’re it.”

Grizzly Bear was a game of his invention, that he started playing with Aiden when it was just the two of them. Then they both played against Liam. And then Oliver. And now they play it against me.

It was basically hide and seek. Jackson was the “grizzly bear”, and the youngest brother was always “it”. Whoever was “it” had to hide, and if he could stay hidden for ten minutes, he wins. If he’s found…

Well, the reason it’s called Grizzly Bear is because Jackson was the hairiest of us all. He’s always been hairy. And being the top tier farter in the hierarchy of gas, he loves to point out how hairy his ass is. 

“It’s almost 3. You have to hide for fifteen minutes.” He explained to me, my head tilted, like a curious dog, “and if we can’t find you by 3:15, then you win.”

Liam cut in, “But none of us have ever won this game. So don’t expect it.”

Jackson continued, “If we find you, then the Grizzly Bear gets to sit on you.”

And when I didn’t understand, he turned around and pulled his pants down. His ass was covered in a furry crop of black hair, “If we find you, your face becomes the Grizzly Bear’s seat.”

In a panic, I jumped up and ran off to hide. I heard my brothers laugh behind me while Jackson counted down from 100 out loud.

100 seconds to hide. I hated Jackson’s farts. They always smelled so bad. To think that he would hold me down and sit his bare butt on my face...no, I didn’t want that to happen. I needed to find the best hiding spot possible. 

The thing about this game was that, even though it technically only needs Jackson and the youngest brother, all of the brothers older than the youngest would help Jackson look. So when it was just Jackson, Aiden, and Liam, Aiden would help Jackson look. With each new brother, the former youngest would become a member of the Grizzly Bear search party. That meant that I had to hide from all four of my older brothers. I was playing the most difficult version of the game: a little kid trying to outsmart his four oldest brothers who would be looking all over the house for fifteen minutes. My heart was racing. There was no way I could stay hidden for fifteen minutes from all of them. But I needed to try: I didn’t want to become Jackson’s seat.

I remember hiding in my dad’s closet, behind his suit jackets. I thought it was the best place, since none of us were allowed in there. I couldn’t count how often Oliver called me a goodie two shoes. None of them would expect me to hide in the forbidden bedroom of our parents.

The minutes went by. I heard my brothers call my name, laugh, shuffle around the house, moving around furniture, opening doors, footsteps everywhere. My heart was pounding and my ears were burning red. I had no idea how to check how long I’d been hiding, and how many more minutes I had. I was afraid that if they didn’t find me, they’d play a new round anyway. I gasped when the thought came; the thought that no matter what, sooner or later, Jackson WOULD sit on my face with his naked butt. Only a matter of time. I started to cry out of anxiety.

I sat in the darkness of my dad’s closet, hugging my knees, waiting for the inevitable. Minutes passed, I kept hearing my brothers searching around the house. The’d cleared through the ground floor, and I heard two of them walking around the upstairs floor. They’re probably going through all the rooms. They were going to find me eventually.

Dread was hanging in my stomach. Dreading the stink. How gross would it feel? I’d never felt Jackson’s naked butt against me...what would a naked fart against my face feel like? How bad would the smell be? I was trembling. 

I jumped when the door to my parents room opened. I heard Aiden, “Oh Noah...the Grizzly is getting tired and wants to pop a squat.” I held my breath. I could barely see Aiden’s shadow pass the closet door. I think he fell to his knees and was looking under the bed, “And he tells me he had a lot of nachos this afternoon, and he’s got a literal buttload of nacho farts to feed you.”

The thought made me want to puke.

His shadow covered the crack in the door. I kept my hand over my mouth and nose. My heart was skipping beats.

“Noah, are you in there?” He laughed. I didn’t move. “It’s only been ten minutes. If you’re in here that means you’re about to get one hell of a stink face.”

I clenched my eyes shut. I couldn’t avoid it anymore. The closet door swung open. In a last minute panic, I jumped to my feet to sprint past him. I don’t know what my plan was, maybe I thought I could run to my bedroom and lock the door. But he was too fast. He grabbed my arm. I started screaming, trying to fight him off, but he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up.

“FOUND HIM!!!” He shouted, carrying me out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

“NO, PLEASE DON’T,” I couldn’t help but cry.

“We’ve all had to suffer through this, Noah,” Aiden laughed, “Quit being a baby and take your punishment like a man.”

I gulped. Jackson came up the stairs from the basement, an evil grin on his face. He let out a little roar, “The Grizzly wins again!”

We were all back in the living room. Aiden, Liam, and Oliver had brought me to the ground, lying on my back, my head resting on a pillow. Liam and Oliver held my limbs down, so even if I tried to wrestle away, I knew I would be able to get up. Aiden had his hands on either side of my head, so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. I had no choice but to watch as Jackson stepped his feet on either side of my head. He was patting his stomach, “Oh, Noah, I think I picked the worst time to have you play this game. You have no idea how badly my guts have been grumbling this afternoon.”

I whimpered. He took a deep breath, a satisfied sigh, and then pulled his shorts down. Above me, his giant butt cheeks, covered in black hair, slowly lowered to my face. I scrunched up, cringing, watching his cheeks naturally separate and I got a glimpse of his butt hole through the thick hair in his crack. Then, his hands came to each cheek and spread them wider. Now, I was staring directly at his gaping butthole. The smell was foul, as bad as butt sweat always is. He hovered a few inches over my face. I held my breath, my cheeks puffed up, spitting out, shaking. My brothers were all laughing around me.

“Any last words?” He asked, looking down at me between his legs.

“...how long?” Was all I could get out. My voice cracked.

“That’s the best part: until you DIE”

He sat full weight onto my face before I could react. Immediately I started shaking around, trying to get my arms and legs free of my brother’s grasps. But there was no way to escape. I still held my breath, but Jackson squirmed a bit and grinded his hairy butt into my face, his hairs were tickling the inside of my nose and without sniffing I could still smell his butt funk. I tried twisting my neck to free my face from stink hell, but Aiden was holding on tight. I felt his hole pucker up against my nose,

PRTPRTPRPTRPTRPTPPPPP

My brothers cheered, probably thinking of all the times they had to live through what I was experiencing, glad that they would never have Jackson fart directly up their noses ever again. And yes, even though I didn’t sniff, he had farted into my nostrils and that had forced the stink into my lungs. I coughed and gagged, gasping for air but the only air I could get was coming from his butt. 

PRTPRTPRPPPP

I was getting dizzy. The stink was so bad sure, but I kept gasping and sucking in his farts. I needed air, I was literally choking to death on his farts. I could hear them all laughing, I felt Jackson shake and scrub his ass into my face. It was like the worst face massage anyone could ask for. He shifted and I felt his hole press against my lips. I didn’t realize that was where my lips were until I felt him push again,

PRTPRTPRPTRPTRPTRPTR

The fart had broke my lips open and shot down over my tongue and into my throat. I gagged violently, accidentally swallowing his fart. I was so dizzy, so sick to my stomach, so humiliated listening to my brothers laugh like hyenas. 

“I think he’s fading away,” I heard Oliver say. And he was right. I was starting to see stars. The hands that held me down moved off of me, but even though they were free, I could barely move them. I tried to bring my arms up to push him off, but I was so dizzy from the farts that my hands only weakly grabbed onto his thighs.

“Aw, I think he’s falling asleep,” Jackson shifted once more and his hole had closed around the tip of my nose. The smell was unbareable.

“Nighty night, fart face.”

RPTRPTRPTRPTRPTRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPP

Sucking in his fart as a last attempt to breathe, I’d passed out. Everything went black.

…

Jackson said that the first time he’d ever played Grizzly Bear, when he stink-faced Aiden into unconsciousness, he actually freaked out and thought he’d killed him. When he realized that he had the power to knock kids out with just his ass fumes, he became an evil monster.

And so my childhood, up through my teen years, were full of this game. College aged Jackson had no problem saying “Who’s up for a game of Grizzly Bear?” He was on the school’s wrestling team, so even if I said no, he would fight me down and straddle my face anyway. I had to try hiding at least. 

But that’s where something major happened.

First, I realized I was gay. But second...I realized that I actually enjoyed being the victim of the Grizzly Bear game.

The first dozen times I would tremble in fear, dread being knocked out by Jackson’s farts. But the more often we played, the more I accepted my fate as the eternal fart sniffer, and the more that I was actually welcoming it. I’d gotten used to how his butt smelled. I’d become almost like a connoisseur of my older brother’s farts, like fine wine, I would sniff them and see how different foods had effected his gastronomical tract.

I had fallen in love with his asshole.

That’s why, even in high school, I would hide in a basic hiding spot; under a bed, in a closet, behind a couch, and when I was found, I would fight back and scream, but that was all for show. I’d giggle and moan in disgust, mock fear, but it was actually in excitement. My brothers would hold me down. I’d shift to hide my boner as best as I possibly could. Did any of them notice my hard ons? They had to have noticed. They all must have known that somehow, I’d turned into a fart sniffing faggot, and they probably thought they were doing me a favor by forcing me to play this childhood game.

I’d stare up in anticipation as my oldest brother’s beefy, hairy wrestler ass came over me, spread open, and rested over my face. I loved his stink. I loved his ass hair. I loved his ass hole. I loved snorting up his farts, until I was put to sleep.

To this day I jerk off to the memories of Jackson farting up my nose. He’s too old for that stuff now, even though we laugh about it. I’m able to recreate the rush by meeting up with other men on fart-fetish forums, telling them my stories, and telling them I’d love to play Grizzly Bear with them some time. I’d even driven across state lines so I could play Grizzly Bear with my online friends. We’d make sure to play two rounds, so each of us could be the Bear, and the sniffer.

My brother had turned me into a fart sniffing faggot. I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to thank him. 

[hornyraunchstories]

Jackson Brunk had a problem, he may have been the most popular guy in school but that didn’t mean he could get everything he wanted. Jackson had a kink and one that any rational girl would scoff at. Jackson was obsessed with the idea of getting a blumpkin. For those not familiar a blumpkin is when someone gets a blowjob while they’re taking a dump.

Jackson’s pretty sure he decoupled this preference because the toilet was nearly the only place he could jackoff growing up. Sharing his room with his brothers left little room for privacy. And so Jackson became accustomed to jerking off while he took a dump. That soon turned into imagining his latest crushes blowing him while he pooped. 

Problem was Jackson was an athletic guy. Lots of protein meant massive long stinky shits. Not the kind any girl would want to be around especially with their mouth full, meaning they had to sniff it all. Jackson was afraid to tell any of his girlfriends about his kink. Though he finally worked up the nerve with his ex Kayla. To say she was not interested would be an understatement. She was disgusted. And much to Jackson’s dismay she told all of her friends who told their friends and soon the whole school knew. Kayla broke up with him and despite Jackson being the most handsome guy around he was convinced no one would ever give him a blumpkin.

Miles Marlow had a problem, the only openly gay guy in his school left him as an outcast. No guys wanted to associate with him at risk of being perceived as gay and the girls weren’t much nicer. Miles longed for the day when he’d actually be able to be intimate with another guy. All he wanted was to suck a dick. Is that so much to ask for? 

When word first spread about Jackson Brunk Miles was confused. He hadn’t heard of blumpkin before, but after looking it up the idea disgusted him. Despite that Miles still couldn’t look at Jackson much differently. Miles still had a massive crush on the jock. In fact, knowing Jackson had a sexual part of himself that was also sneered at by their peers made Miles feel closer to Jackson. 

It was nearly 10pm on a Friday night, a few weeks since Miles had heard about Jackson’s kink and Miles was home alone.  He was scrolling on Instagram and playing with his dick. Miles saw Jackson had posted a story. Miles opened story it was a simple selfie with a song. Miles stared at the picture for a while. He was so attracted to Jackson so much so that a twisted thought crossed his mind. 

Before having time to fully think things through Miles was typing a dm to Jackson. 

“Hi Jackson. I’m really sorry to bother you. This is so weird and I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. I know you’re not gay. And I would never tell anyone anything but I feel like we could help each other. I have always wanted to suck a dick especially the dick of someone as perfect as you. And I’ve heard the rumors at school. If you’re ever looking for someone to give you a blumpkin it would be my honor” 

Miles held his breath and sent send. He stared at his screen with his heartbeat in his ears. Then the message changed from sent to read. But then nothing. Miles cheeks went flush. He was angry at himself for sending the message. Jackson was probably sending a screenshot of Miles mortifying message to everyone. 

The following Monday at school to Miles surprise nothing was different. He’d expected jeers and insults but instead the same ignoral of his existence. The butterflies that were festering in his stomach all weekend finally settled. 

The end of the school day Miles was leaving his last class when he felt a hand roughly yank his shirt from behind. Miles was pulled around the corner into a bathroom. Turning to see who’d dragged him there Miles was shocked to see Jackson. Jackson’s cheeks were flush and he looked sweaty. 

“You had a lot of nerve sending me that message fag!” Jackson spat. “I’m so sorry Jackson! I was just desperate and lonely. I never should’ve sent it! I’m sorry!” 

Jackson shoved Miles against the wall again and scoffed. “You’re fucking pathetic.” Miles was cowering but then the energy in the bathroom shifted. Jackson grabbed his massive bulge in his sweats and looked at Miles darkly. 

“You gonna suck my fat cock while I take a dump, sissy boy?” Miles was shocked and couldn’t speak. “Answer me pussy” Jackson continued to fondle himself and Miles could see Jackson grow. 

“Yes please Jackson. Please let me suck your cock!” Miles couldn’t believe this was happening. Jackson then led miles into the middle stall. He yanked his pants down and sat in the toilet like a throne. Jackson was sliding his hand up and down his massive penis staring at Miles. 

Miles fell to his knees and crawled forward. The musk of Jackson’s crotch was dense. “I’ve been holding my shit in since last night pussy boy. You’re gonna smell all of it while you suck my dick!” 

Jackson forced Miles down on his dick. Poor Miles was gagging from the size alone but he’d soon be gagging from much more. 

Jackson moaned in pleasure as Miles was sucking he began to poop. His shit first came out with an explosion of a fart. It was wet and gurgly. Miles attempted to pull away but Jackson gripped his hair tightly and did not let him up. Jackson continued to force Miles up and down his cock while he destroyed the toilet beneath him. 

Miles gagged as the stink filled the stall. Jackson could almost laugh at how bad it smelt but he was so turned on he couldn’t stop moaning. Before Jackson could even finish his dump he was cumming down Miles throat. “Fuck!” He exclaimed with pleasure.

Jackson had never experienced something so hot, and he wasn’t done yet. Jackson continued to hold Miles in place forcing poor Miles to keep Jackson’s deflating dick in his mouth while Jackson finished pooping. Miles continued to gag on the intense stench. Once he was finished Jackson released Miles from his grip and stood up turning his ass to Miles face. “Wipe me clean.” 

Without even debating Miles wrapped his hand in toilet paper and wiped his crush’s nasty ass. Jackson walked out of the bathroom having never felt so confident or satisfied before. 

Despite being so disgusted with himself and the entire experience Miles dick was like a diamond in his pants. 

From then on blumpkins became routine them. Jackson would message Miles whenever wherever simple and effective message “gotta take a dump” “locker room now”. And Miles always reported to duty. Jackson even took to changing his diet to make his shit stink even worse than it did already. He loved making Miles gag on more than just his dick. 

While Miles struggled to endure Jackson’s shit at first something in him slowly changed. Maybe it was because his only sexual experiences had been giving Jackson blumpkins but Miles started exclusively jerking off to all things nasty. He imagined Jackson making him lick his ass clean post dump instead of wiping. 

One Saturday afternoon Miles received a message from Jackson. “Me and the boys got breakfast burritos earlier and I’m bursting. It’s gonna be nasty. Meet me at the Sullivan park porta potty.” 

They’d never done it in a porta potty before but Miles practically ran the entire way to the park. When Miles arrived Jackson was standing outside the basketball courts. He was in gym shorts and a tank top and looked very sweaty. 

Jackson saw Miles approaching and headed straight for the porta potty. Once Miles followed him in Jackson was already sitting a playing with his dick. Miles kneeled on the sticky porta potty floor and went to lean in but then hesitated. Not interested in waiting Jackson’s hand found its usual place in Miles hair. “Jackson! Wait! Sorry could you hold on!” Miles found his words. 

“What the fuck fag come on I gotta poop!” Jackson did have to shit but he wasn’t that desperate. He just liked to wield his influence over Miles. 

“Sorry it’s just. Um I was wondering if you could uh … give me a swirlie after you finish.” Miles and Jackson both couldn’t believe the words that left Miles mouth. “The fuck?!” Jackson was shocked. This whole time he’d thought Miles was only putting up with his shit and stink to get his ‘man-cock’ but this changed things. 

“You nasty fuck. You actually like my shit?” Jackson wanted to look mad but he was grinning. Miles wasn’t sure how to feel. “No I don’t sir but I can’t help it. I like that you like it or rather that you like making me deal with it. I want you to be nastier to me. I’m so lucky you let me suck your cock that no matter how gross or mean you are I will still want it.” 

Jackson’s smile had slowly dropped, while Miles spoke, morphing into a mix of shock and disbelief. Once Miles had finished speaking Jackson’s broke out into a genuine laugh. Jackson couldn’t believe what was happening. Everything he ever wanted right when he was just starting to think he’d never find it. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together loser” 

Miles grinned and went to lean in again “thank you” he mumbled. “No problem” Jackson responded though he was mostly speaking to himself. And as he started to suck Jackson’s cock he thought the same thing to himself. Yeah, no problem. 

Here I leave you a great story one of my followers send to me! Thank you mysterious person! — btw, I’ll be back from my absence soon, so don’t worry too much about my disappearance haha.

[hornyraunchstories]

Porta Potty Suggestions

I’m writing the story of the Porta Potty (since it’s pretty obvious is gonna win), and I have to say, I’m pretty lost on where else to put the porta potty so I want suggestions to see if something sounds good.

For now I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be placed on Construction Site for one, but I want at least two more places and I’ve been wondering what may be good. Maybe a Public Park, or Concert? Or a Race event?

[hornyraunchstories]

Would the frat ever lend a pledge to an alumni brother on the police force?

Of course, in fact is one of the traditional ways to renew bonds, and often it can work similarly to a bribe. Many who graduate from the frat often go into their lives with a desire they cannot quite fulfill satisfactorily always, and some will, in exchange of favors or donations request to have a Pledge that they can use for a time, or they may join one of the frats events.

This sometimes is disguised as Internships or Volunteer Work (in the case of the police), and sometimes it can be a not so bad deal for the pledges, since many of the Alumni that do this have powerful positions and would be willing to help them start their careers once they become full brothers. After all, no matter what someone might’ve done in their time as a pledge, what matters is if they’re brothers or not.

[hornyraunchstories]

Is Jordie ever going to be freed from his brothers ass?

Oh yeah of course, I decided not to write it but he actually got freed the next day’s morning with a very reddened face. The glue had always come from a practical pranks company and was supposed to wear off with time, but one reason they went out of business was faulty products.

[hornyraunchstories]

I want to hear more about the fraternity. Why would getting assigned to Brett be worse than Brandon?

How did a pledge get assigned to being a toilet for the entire fraternity?

For the first question, that’s because although many frat members workout, Brett is an actual serious 6’2 ft tall bodybuilder. He not only weighs around 240 lbs (around 108 kgs) when he’s off season at the frat. But since like many bodybuilders he’s almost always on a bulk, he can eat more than up to 5000 calories per day, which he divides between three big meals and two smaller ones along the day— and he has a very good diet, with plenty of proteins and plenty of fiber. — As you can imagine, this means that when Brett needs to use the toilet, he really uses it for real, and he uses it at least three times a day, after every big meal. This makes him the kind of guy that could clog a regular toilet, so you can imagine the average pledge can’t easily handle him. But that’s not all, since an assigned pledge (Toilet or otherwise) is basically treated as a servant for the brother they’re serving and is considered an affront to authority and sometimes punishable to reject their petitions, Brett likes taking advantage of the system to make his pledges cook his meals for him liberating a lot of his time and saving him money. At the same time, this does mean the pledges end up cooking the same meals that Brett later will feed to them once he has finished digesting them, adding a sort of additional layer of humiliation.

He couldn’t go to the GrossOlympics because he was out on a competition, and perhaps the only mercy with him is that he’s one of the few members of the frat that takes his hygiene more seriously due to how much he works out. He also often has more than one pledge serving him—which lightens the load— although some unfortunate fellows have served him singularly.

As for what could a pledge do to land him on the position of a Toilet for the entire frat? Well, this is usually reserved as punishment for some of the “serious” offenses, like having snitched some secret to an outsider or another frat. Or trying to steal back or delete your motivation material (the blackmail). Also, you could have found yourself in the way of a Jason on a particularly foul or sadist mood, and the President of the fraternity decided to take out his frustration on some unfortunate pledge. This can also happen to full brothers sometimes if the offense is large enough, although it’s extremely rare.

That said, there are some events and contests where pledges are being made to serve as sort of public toilets for the frat or even for some guests (specially if there’s no one punished to occupy the position) but that’s usually a temporal thing for the duration of whatever they’re doing— often decided by some contest.— Meanwhile, punished people have to serve any brother they might come across who asks, at any time they might want, for an extended duration of time.

Snippet of Lore: People in the world are way more okay with abuses of authority and shows of power, which comes from a societal acceptance of corruption power imbalances. While the Gross Frat takes this one step further with his members, the authorities turn a blind eye thanks to powerful alumni of the frat who hold positions of political and economical power. Some of them even being part of the college leadership or the police force.

[hornyraunchstories]

I have quite a few experiences with my older brother that informed my fetish. It’s sorta surreal on the one hand cause I’ve definitely had more fetish related experiences growing up and not even seeking them out than I’ve had fully grown and actively looking for a big brother bully surrogate but it’s also really strange.

he’d fart on me a lot. Trap me in the bathroom after he pooped and stunk it up. Once even having his friends hold the door shut with me trapped inside with him as he took a dump. I was begging them to let me out and they all just laughed. Lots of video game bets where he’d even give me head starts and I’d still lose

One of the most memorable experiences was one summer he had his best friends over and they were drinking and playing Dare or drink. And I really wanted to play with them but I wasn’t 21 yet so my brother said I couldn’t. But then one of his friends suggested that instead of giving me a dare and if I didn’t do it I had to drink the version of the game I had to play was would you rather and they would give me two options and I had to do one of them regardless. That quickly turned into “would you rather let me or your brother fart on your face” “would you rather sniff my armpit or get a swirlie” a constant flow of gross options and they kept trying to push my limits. And probably any normal guy would’ve stopped playing after a few rounds but I didn’t want to stop and let them torture me for hours. Loogies, stinky socks, butt kissing, wedgies. It was a fun night that I think back on very often

Thank you for sharing your experiences, that does sound very hot. And I think the people in here will agree. Also, it seems you liked my fictionalization of your previous comment. Would you mind if I used your experiences as inspiration or reference for other short stories with Evan and Arnold? Perhaps like a little mini-series in between the larger works.

I really liked the setting and I am all for the Drink and Dare for a story, and in truth I had already imagined a few scenarios myself, of different degrees of fetish (One of which is Soggy Biscuit one that I’ve wanted to write for a while), but since it could be said that they’re “inspired” by your experience I won’t do it unless you agree to.

[hornyraunchstories]

my older brother once made me lick our toilet after I lost a bet to him. I had to lick the seat the rim under the sit and then the actual bowl. He was narrating to me the whole time too about how he took a massive shit just a few hours ago

That’s so hot! And I want all the details! Oh man, Sometimes reality truly surpasses fiction! And I really do love the betting trope and the Bully Oldee Brother. If you could feel comfortable sharing more of your experience, or if there were any other similar bets or anything, I’d love to know.

Now, if I had to write a stories under this premise, I’d love to think there might’ve been other bets along the way, and clearly the Older brother felt at least some degree of satisfaction from the humiliation, so I think it’d go almost like this… …..

The house stood quiet under the weekend sun, parents gone for the long haul, leaving just the two brothers to their own devices. Arnold, the older one by two years, lounged in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, a sly grin tugging at his lips. Evan, was slighter in build, knelt on the cold tile floor, his face pale as he stared at the toilet. The two were used to betting between them, he knew he shouldn’t with how Arnold loved to see how far he could push him whenever he lost, but he had thought he could win that stupid a video game wager. Clearly, he was wrong.

"You lost fair and square, little bro," Arnold said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying himself with mirth. "Rules are rules, the loser has to do whatever the winner wants, and I want you to lick the toilet clean"

Evan's stomach twisted. The toilet seat was up, revealing the porcelain bowl beneath, but even from here, he could see the sprinkle of yellow droplets on the white plastic rim. Piss stains, fresh and dried, dotted the surface. He hesitated, trembling a bit as he approached.

Evan leaned in, his nose inches from the seat. It felt oddly warm against his tongue as he pressed the first tentative lick. 

“It’s warm” he murmured with disgust, but not so quietly for it to go unnoticed.

Arnold leaned in a bit, smirking. "Oh yeah, heads up, I just took a massive shit in there."

The taste hit him like a slap, acidic, sharp like pure urine, with a faint salty undertone from the sweat that lingered in the creases. He gagged, but Alex's hand rested on his shoulder, firm but amused.

"Ha, getting that first taste? Keep at it, I didn’t have the best aim so my piss is all over there from after the dump. I really wanted to try sinking it with my stream but it was so massive, thankfully it flushed”.

Evan forced himself to continue, trying to ignore his brother:s taunt as his tongue continued dragging across the smooth texture of the seat. The dried bits flaked slightly, mixing with the wet spots that burst with that bitter tang. Saliva mixed with the residue, reactivating the old piss as he lapped at it, circling the seat, feeling the residual warmth seep into his mouth. Arnold watched with a satisfied nod, clearly enjoying the show.

"Not bad, Evan. You're a natural at this cleaning gig. "

Evan pulled back for a breath, wiping his mouth, but Arnold nudged him forward with a grin. A few short minutes dragged on until the seat gleamed wet from his efforts, though the taste lingered, coating his throat.

"Alright, next round," Arnold said, flipping the seat down with a clunk, his tone light. "The rim under there. Make it quick, but thorough."

Evan's face hovered over the underside now, closer to the bowl's open maw. The smell intensified immediately— a heavier waft of urine rising from below, mingled with something way worse— He licked at the ceramic rim, the flavor much like the seat but colder. Remnant urine zapping his taste buds with acidity. It was quicker, since there weren’t any apparent stains and it took maybe a dozen strokes of his tongue, but the proximity to the bowl made his eyes water. The stench clawed at his nostrils, and he tried to push it away by exhaling through his nostrils.

Arnold crossed his arms, chuckling softly. "Sniffing the aftermath already? That's from my epic shit, it seems it left a few streaks for ya. This'll be fun."

Evan finished the rim, his mouth numb, the salty bite fading into a dull ache. He sat back on his heels, pleading with his eyes, but Arnold just raised an eyebrow with a smirk, looking not the least moved.

"Nanana, no backing now, bro. The bowl, lick it clean. Really get those stains with your tongue. Bet's a bet."

The bowl loomed, it had remained unwashed for days, and he himself had contributed along with his brother in how its porcelain was dulled by a film of grime and worse. Brownish smears clung to the walls and waterline, remnants of Arnold’s recent evacuation, and a deep acrid smell wafted from the bottom. The smell was terrible, a pungent mix of feces, stale piss, and mildew that hadn't seen a brush in weeks. Up this close, he had nausea before even touching it, the odor filling his lungs like a toxic fog.

"Go for it," Arnold encouraged with a smirk, leaning closer. "Tongue out, you clean up my mess. The faster you get on with it the better” 

Evan dipped his head into the bowl, tongue extended, and made contact with the cool porcelain just below the rim. It didn’t taste any special, really bad but not particularly worse than the rim and seat, although the smell and fact that it was colder and his hair almost touched the water had the psychological impact of a truck.

It wasn’t until he approached one of the smears that the taste exploded, bitter, putrid, fecal, with chunks of dried matter that his saliva reactivated filling his mouth with an indescribably repulsive taste. He retched, but pressed on, lapping at the stains as Arnold made sure he didn’t get up. They were stubborn, requiring broad strokes to scrape them away, his saliva turning the brown to a muddy paste that he had to swallow down.

Arnold watched intently, a grin spreading. "Right on those streaks , that's the big turd I dropped, see if you can taste the hamburgers from last night! You really liked them, do you still like them now? They’re specially seasoned."

Evan's reluctance grew with each lick, his body shaking as he worked lower, circling the bowl's curve. The smell intensified, waves of rotten egg and decay assaulting him. When he slowed, hesitating at a particularly dark smear, Arnold’s foot pressed down on the back of his head, not hard, but enough to push him in with a laugh. Water sloshed near his nose, but he couldn't pull away.

"Almost done, you really got in there good. But there’s really only one way to finish this don’t you think? Now hold your breath" Evan quickly realized his intentions and quickly obeyed without any other options as Arnold pulled the lever, flushing the toilet as he stepped on Evan’s scalp, giving him a swirly.

As the toilet finished flushing, Arnold eased off, still chuckling, and stepped back.

Evan stood up, gathering his breath as he glared at his brother. Putting up a brave face he really wasn’t feeling that much.

“No more bets! That’s really the worse thing I’ve ever done”

“Oh, you think so?”

In response, Arnold fished out his phone and shoved the screen toward Evan. There it was a video of Evan licking the toilet, and Arnold scrolled to show him a number of photos of him licking the seat and the rim, and even one of Arnold stepping on him as he flushed the toilet.

“I think this really is just the beginning, little bro”