*WiFi messed up and the original got deleted/lost while uploading to scheduled posts earlier today so I had to rewrite this the best I could from memory. Hoping it still comes across well since it is the finale of this mini series and sets up the vibe for the rest of wolf pack posts for summer!*
After almost and hour of searching, Scott, Theo, and Liam finally find an entrance to the old bunker that Warren was using. "Remember....Stiles couldn't find Derek so theres a good chance he's in here and under Warren's control. Be cautious and do what you need to for survival!" Scott whispers as the trio enters.
"Warren? WARREN!!" Scotts roar echoes as he enters the metal entrance to the bunker. Scott walks through until he sees open doors on the left and right leading to separate rooms . "Theo and Liam, you go right!" Scott orders before going left. "Well well well....the alpha has finally shown up!" Warren laughs, watching Scott walk slowly deep into the room, having hid beside the entrance and now bolting the door shut. "Shall we begin your fall from grace?"
"Fall from grace? I think whatever experiments you have been doing, replicating Liams knock out level farts and Theo's hypno farts has gotten to your head! This ends now! Give up whatever you are doing and leave Beacon Hills for good!" Scott says sternly as he watches Warren close off the exit, only an open square on the door with bars providing sight and audio of the outside world.
Warren throws his head back with a booming laugh, the sound bouncing off the reinforced concrete walls. "Leave? Scott, I'm just getting started. I've spent weeks perfecting this concoction. Liam's explosive potency mixed with Theo's psychological manipulation... it's the perfect weapon against your kind." He flexes his shoulders, his massive frame dwarfing the space as he struts toward Scott. "You think you're in control? You think that Alpha title means anything here?"
Warren stops just inches from Scott, staring at him with a cocky grin. The air in the bunker already feels heavy, thick with the chemical tang of the wolfsbane laced serums he's been brewing. "You're not here to bargain with me Scott. You're here to become my puppet." Without warning, Warren pivots, presenting his muscular backside toward the werewolf. His hips sway deliberately as he braces himself, the fabric of his athletic gear straining against his build.
"Time to take a deep breath, Alpha," Warren sneers, his muscles tensing. "This is going to change everything about how you see the world and how you see me." With a grunt of effort, he releases a concentrated, pressurized burst. The cloud that emerges is stinking and reeks of potent wolfsbane mixed with an overwhelming, musky stench that cuts through the air like a knife. "Inhale it! Let the serum work its magic on that stubborn brain of yours!"
Almost immediately Scott feels his mind start to struggle, his knees weaken, and his vision close in. Getting a grip on himself, his eyes glow a deep red as he kicks into alpha mode and tackles Warren to the ground. "It's going to take more than that to beat me Warren!"
Warren grunts as Scott's superior strength slams him into the concrete floor, but the athletic hunter doesn't show fear only predatory excitement. Even pinned beneath the Alpha's weight, Warren manages to twist his hips, forcing another wolfsbane laced cloud directly into Scott's face. "Oh, you think brute force matters?" Warren pants, his cocky smirk widening as he sees Scott's pupils dilate uncontrollably. "The serum doesn't care how hard you hit; it cares what you breathe."
Scott coughs violently, his claws digging into Warren's shoulders, but the wolfsbane is already burning through his supernatural defenses. The hybrid concoction hits his bloodstream like lightning, twisting his thoughts. The hypnotic properties of Theo's part of the serum begin to override his Alpha instincts, turning his anger into a confused, terrifying haze. The room spins as Scott's grip loosens, his breathing becoming shallow and desperate as he inhales more of the toxic, musky vapor.
"That's it... let the haze take over," Warren murmurs, using his superior muscular bulk to pin Scott's wrists against the floor. The Alpha's red eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a glassy, distant stare. The defiance drains from Scott's face as the conditioning takes hold. "Now Scott... tell me who owns you." Warren grins triumphantly, watching as the most powerful werewolf in Beacon Hills begins to break under the power of his enhanced scent.
....on the other side of the bunker
As Liam and Theo burst through the heavy steel door on the right, their muscles tensed for a fight. The corridor reeks of that same sickly sweet and musky scent of Warren's goons. "What's going " Liam starts, but the words die in his throat when a shadow emerges from the darkness of the alcove ahead.
Derek Hale steps into the dim light in his signature black muscle fit t-shirt, but something is horribly wrong. His usual brooding intensity has been replaced by a hollow, vacant expression. His eyes aren't glowing with anger or protection; they are wide, glassy, and fixed on nothing at all. His shoulders hang slack, and his movements are mechanical, almost puppet like.
"Derek?" Theo asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as his claws extend. "What did he do to you?" Without warning, Derek lunges. There is no hesitation in his strike, no supernatural warning just the raw, conditioned speed of a predator that has been reprogrammed. He crashes into Liam before the younger werewolf can react, pinning him against the concrete wall with terrifying precision.
"Get off him!" Theo snarls, moving to intervene, but Derek spins with unnatural fluidity, catching Theo off guard. Derek's strength feels different not fueled by rage, but by an eerie, mindless obedience. Derek throws Theo against the wall beside Liam. Slowly he raises his arms, revealing his hairy unwashed armpits with a purple tint of wolfsbane. Before the boys can react, Derek dashes forward and pins their faces between the cold wall and his pits, Theos face in the right one and Liams in the left one.
Derek inhales sharply as if drawing strength from his own hollow compliance, then deliberately presses his sweat soaked armpits deeper against their faces. The concentrated wolfsbane stench from Derek's skin is overwhelming. Theo struggles, his nose pressed against the coarse hair and toxic musk, but every desperate inhale only drags more of the wolfsbane into his lungs. Liam's claws scrape uselessly against Derek's forearms as his vision begins to blur, the chemical assault breaking down his supernatural resistance faster than any physical blow could. With each scrape, Derek forces more hair to grow until Liams entire face is enveloped in armpit hair.
"Resistance is pointless," Derek's voice comes out as a flat, monotone drone, devoid of any emotion. "Warren's will is absolute." The two betas slump against the wall, slowly lowering with their struggles weakening as the pure wolfsbane and sweat combo drains their energy.
"Li...Liam....remember that thing I told you never to do unless in an emergency? Well now it's an emergency!" Theo chokes on the wolfsbane tainted armpit funk of Derek. Liam gets the hint and slowly builds a fatal concentration of gas in his gut. While usually his enhanced farts could only weaken other people, as he built up his anger he could possibly knock people out cold.
Liam grinds his teeth, channeling every ounce of his rage and supernatural fury into his digestive system. His abdominal muscles coil like snakes as he forces the buildup downward. With a desperate, guttural snarl, he releases a thunderous, earth shaking fart that swiftly fills the small claustrophobic room. The force of the explosive fart sends a shockwave through the small corridor, the toxic air thick enough to taste.
The sheer potency of Liam's enhanced gas, supercharged by his anger, is enough to knock even Derek out cold. Unfortunately it also takes Liam out, the beta not strong enough to resist his own blackout farts. The only survivor is Theo who was smart enought to press his nose deep into Derek's pit, trading discomfort and humiliation for consciousness. With Derek neutralized and unable to attack, Theo goes to check up on Scott on the other side of the Bunker where the alpha has gained the upper hand.
Scott, gasping for air through the haze of Warren's initial attack, manages to seize control of his breathing. His wolf instincts flare, turning his panic into a desperate counterattack. "You think you can beat me like the others?" Scott snarls, his voice hoarse from inhaling the toxic fumes.
Seizing a moment of Warren's cockiness, Scott rolls beneath the athlete's massive frame, using his enhanced werewolf strength to flip the larger boy onto his back. Before Warren can react, Scott positions himself directly over Warren's head. With a guttural growl of defiance, Scott releases several rapid fire, concentrated bursts of gas directly into Warren's face. The potency of an Alpha's digestive system, fueled by adrenaline and rage, hits Warren with force.
Warren shakes, coughing violently as the overwhelming musk burns his nostrils and makes his head swim. "Fuck!... you... bastard!" Warren wheezes, his vision blurring as the concentrated stench overwhelms his senses, momentarily neutralizing the hypnotic advantage he held. The power dynamic shifts violently as the two muscular predators struggle for dominance in the toxic fog.
Outside the door, Theo now arrives and presses his face against the barred gap, his lungs still burning from Derek's armpit assault. His eyes widen as he witnesses the carnage through the narrow opening. He watches Scott pinning the cocky lacrosse player down, the two of them locked in a brutal, stinking battle of wills. Theo knows he can't intervene yet as his own strength is depleted from Derek's attack.
The momentary lapse in Warren's dominance leaves him vulnerable, gasping for breath as the Scott's counterattack takes hold. "This... isn't over..." Warren manages to choke out between coughs, but his usual cocky bravado is visibly cracking. Scott looms over him, chest heaving. "You wanted to play with supernatural forces, Warren? Well, now you're drowning in them."
With a snarl of pure Alpha fury, Scott positions himself directly over Warren's face, tearing away the fabric of his pants to expose his powerful, tan, hairy backside. "Let's see how you handle real Alpha power!" Scott roars. He braces his muscular thighs and unleashes a devastating, thunderous barrage of concentrated gas directly into Warren's nostrils. The force of the blast sends an almost visible cloud of musky vapor swirling around Warren's head, overwhelming the hunters remaining senses.
Warren's cocky smirk vanishes completely, replaced by a look of pure terror as his eyes roll back. The concentrated stench of the Alpha's fury crashes into his lungs. His body convulses beneath Scott's weight, his muscles spasming as the overwhelming odor short circuits his brain. "No... stop... I can't... breathe..." Warren chokes out, his voice breaking as he loses all sense of dominance.
Theo watches through the bars, horrified yet mesmerized by the raw display of supernatural dominance. The bunker fills with an atmosphere so thick with musk and pheromones that even watching through the gap feels suffocating. Scott doesn't relent, continuing to pin the massive lacrosse player down, using every ounce of his Alpha authority to reassert control through the weaponized stench. The power dynamic has completely inverted; the hunter has become the prey, drowning in the very essence of the wolf he tried to subjugate.
Just as it seems that Scott has ended Warren, the cunning hunter grasps a small vial of Kanima venom hidden under a close bench. Eyesight blocked by Scott's stinking ass, he is careful while opening it and pours just enough onto Scott's exposed thigh without risking it dripping onto his own body. Slowly Scort feels his body weaken and stiffen from the paralyzing venom. Warren starts laughing even while under the Alpha ass, quickly pushing the immobalised Scott off his face and flat onto the cold ground.
The paralysis spreads like ice through Scott's veins, locking his muscles in place just as the venom takes hold. His claws scrape helplessly against the concrete, unable to find grip as his body betrays him. "Look at you now, Alpha," Warren sneers, scrambling to his feet. His cocky demeanor returns with a vengeance, though he's still wheezing from the onslaught of Scott's assault. "One little drop of venom and your precious authority, your alpha farts, your strength, all means nothing."
Warren towers over the immobilized werewolf, a twisted grin spreading across his face. The lacrosse player's muscular frame dominates the space, casting a long shadow over Scott's helpless form. "You thought you could win by playing dirty? That's my game." He reaches down, grabbing Scott by the hair and forcing his head up. "But you forgot one thing: I'm stronger, I'm faster, and now, I'm the only one who can move."
Through the barred gap, Theo watches in silent horror. He can see the way Scott's eyes dart frantically, full of rage but trapped behind a frozen mask. Warren isn't finished; he wants to complete the ritual he started. He turns his back to Scott once more, deliberately positioning his massive frame above the paralyzed Alpha. "Since you like using your scent so much, let's see how you handle mine when you can't even turn away." With a cruel laugh, Warren prepares to deliver the final, hypnotic blow, ensuring Scott remains his subordinate forever. The frozen Alpha can only watch in horror as Warren's bare ass descends upon his face.
The muscular athlete lowers himself onto Scott's face, pressing his bare, powerful ass directly against the Alpha's nose and mouth. "Submit to your new master, Scott!" Warren roars, his cocky confidence returning tenfold as he feels the helplessness of the wolf beneath him. With a deliberate tensing of his glutes, Warren releases a devastatingly potent cloud of wolfsbane laced, hypnotic gas. This isn't just a fart for the two of them, it's a weaponized explosion of concentrated serum and musk designed to shatter Scott's remaining willpower.
The thick, toxic vapor floods Scott's lungs, bypassing his ability to turn away or fight back. The hypnotic properties of the Theo inspired concoction immediately begin to rewire Scott's brain, twisting his righteous fury into a foggy, syrupy haze of obedience. His eyes, once burning red with Alpha defiance, begin to glaze over, losing their spark as the chemical cocktail seeps into his nervous system.
Theo watches through the bars, his own breath shallow as he witnesses the complete subjugation of the pack leader. He sees Scott's jaw slacken as the hypnotic fumes take hold, his body going limp against the concrete. Warren's triumphant laughter echoes through the bunker as he realizes his plan has succeeded. The Alpha of Beacon Hills is no longer a protector; he is a puppet, waiting for the next command from the cocky lacrosse player who now holds his leash through the power of his intoxicating, venomous stench. With no tine to spare, Theo strains his arms to reach between the bars and unlock the bolt on the inside.
Theo's fingers scramble against the heavy bolt, his muscles screaming as he forces the mechanism to slide open. The door swings wide, and the toxic cloud rolls out like a living thing, thick with wolfsbane and musky pheromones. Theo doesn't hesitate; he knows Warren is still recovering from Scott's assault, his defenses lowered by the Alpha's own stinking retaliation.
Theo strides in, ignoring the dizzying haze that threatens to overwhelm him. He sees Warren straddling the paralyzed Scott, the athlete's cocky grin still plastered on his face. "You think you're the only one who can play god with a scent?" Theo snarls, stepping directly in front of Warren and pulling down his black shorts to unveil his ass. "You thought you could replicate my greatness? Lets see if you still think your serum can match my power!" A wet fart immediately rips through the small space between Theos bare hole and Warren's face. Without any hesitation Theos reaches back and grabs Warren's head to pull his nose deep into the farting ass. the feeling of the thick rough nose against his farting hole drives him into a feral pleasure, eyes lighting up yellow and boner growing by the second all while Warren was helpless and Scott was still huffing on farts.
"Warren....tell me....where is the dread doctor book you are using? And where is the rest of your serum from my blood?" Theo lets Warren pull his face out from his warm and pale ass cheeks. "In that locker over there...second drawer!" Warren replies, now in a hypnotic daze. Theo walks over and opens the drawer, taking on of the vials of serum and drinking it before returning to Warren's face and farting again. "You will leave Beacon Hills....you will never approach any of the pack again...and you will forget all about the supernatural! Tell Lord Theo you understand!" Theo gags Warren with another wet fart.
"I will leave Beacon Hills, I will never approach the pack again, and I will forget about the supernatural as you demand Lord Theo!" Warren groans, knowing he should fight, but unable to resist the strength of Theoâs natural hypno. "Now get out of here!" Theo slaps Warren's face, giving the packs most devious opponent essentially a free out. No real consequences, no humiliation.
Now it is just Theo and Scott. The weakened alpha, barely able to think, staring dazed up to Theo like a silent cry for help. Theo looking over his shoulder, debating whether he should help his friend and alpha, or give in to his more sinister ideas. A few weeks ago the answer was obvious. But after being able to let loose on the goon at Liams house reawakened a dark kinky side in him.
...back with Liam and Derek
"Ugh...fuck...that really REALLY stinks!" Derek groans, grabbing his banging head as he reawakens from Liams gas induced black out. The fart broke through Warren's weak hypnosis and brought Derek back to reality. "Uhm...Liam, sorry about.." "Its all good!" Liam says getting off the floor. The two get their heads straight and immediately go to help Scott and Theo against Warren.
"Theo? Scott?" Liam shouts, running into the room and immediately getting hit with a wall of the mixed farts and stinks. "Where's Warren? Did he do this?" Derek asks. The two come in to the sight of Scott being unconscious and Theo pulling a door in the far corner open. "Ye...yeah he unfortunately got Scott. But I hypnoed him into never coming back." Theo grunts as the heavy door finally opens to reveal a small utility room where Jackson has been for the last 2 weeks, Warren farming Kanima venom from him.
"Scott should be fine when he awakens tomorrow! I stopped Warren from getting a hypno command out! Derek you take Jackson here home with you, Liam and I can take Scott!" Theo says, taking a leadership role. No one questions him, Liam moving to help lift Scott's unconscious body off the floor and Derek calling Stiles to bring the jeep for him and Jackson. "Here's to never dealing with a hunter like that again!" Theo chuckles on the way out.
Later that night, after everyone had washed up and went to sleep after a long couple of weeks stressing, Theo sneaks out to go back to the bunker. With his flashlight in hand he searches, picking up any serum left behind and going to the locker again to grab the Dread Doctors book as he thinks back to farting on the weakened Scott earlier and putting him to sleep. Briefly flipping through the old damaged book he comes to a page Warren had marked in red. Theo looks in shock as he realizes is is a page dedicated to him.
"Subject : Theo Raeken : Chimera injected with experimental hypnosis compound enabling Subject to 'charm' people with flatulence. Base level allows for limited control of abilities. If Subject were to take on the role of Alpha, abilities may be enhanced to limitless capabilities. Continued exposure to subjects hypnosis over period of time can result in complete obedience and submission."
âHey, can you hold this step ladder while I fix this?â
You canât believe how lucky you are. The opportunity to get up close and personal with his giant, muscular butt, given to you without even asking. You walk up behind him and grab the sides of the step ladder, your face so close to his perfect ass that your nose is almost in his crack.
âHold on tight.â
You grip onto it like your life depends on it, not willing to let this opportunity go.
pffffft.
Your nose hair burns from the rancid gas that escaped from his ass. Itâs nasty! You instinctively lean your head back trying to escape the smell, your grip on the step ladder loosening ever so slightly.
âI said hold on tight!â
You tighten your grip again and lean back in towards his ass. He shifts his positioning on the step ladder so that he can reach further, then when he is stable he pushes his butt back, smothering your face in his cheeks. You canât believe that youâre getting even luckier.
âJust need to get in the right position to reach thisâŠâ
He pushes his butt back further, your face now even deeper between his cheeks and your arms at full stretch as you hold on desperately to the step ladder.
BRRRAAAAAAAP!
His foul gas blasts directly into your nose and down your throat. You can taste the whey from his protein shakes on your tongue. With your arms at full stretch thereâs no escape from your noxious prison.
âYeah Iâve been smashing my protein goals lately, but itâs just made me so gassy.â
FRRRRAAAAAAAAP!Â
He inflates your lungs with his rotten fart. You thrash your head fighting for fresh air, but itâs no use.
âYou wanted this ass so bad, well now youâre going to get every last bit of it. Ha!â
He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face so deep into his ass that youâre practically kissing his hole through his shorts.
"Get your nose nestled between these alpha cheeks man!" Scott rushes to pull down his grey boxers as you kneel beside the bed, lay down your head, and push your face towards his massive tan cheeks. You don't even need encouragement, working your nose in towards the heat of his stinking sticky hole while the hair tickled your skin. "SNIFF!" His word acts like a program as your nose works automatically to inhale the ripe fart that accompanied his command. "Thank you Master McCall!" You moan between his cheeks, getting a taste of the vile fart. Scott wiggles his cheeks with a stifled giggle in response to your words. "SNIFF!" Yet again you are on auto pilot as he orders you to sniff a wet ten second fart from his hole. It burns and stinks, but you don't move an inch. "Fuck thsoe stink! You love these don't you?" Scott taunts, reaching around and using his meaty hand on the back of your head to push you deeper. "Yes Master McCall! Your farts smell beautiful!" Your words flow out as you kneel there, completely flacid despite finding his farts hot and addictive. "SNIFF!" This time as you inhale the airy fart fueled by eggs and chicken, Scott rolls over to sit on your face until you pass out.
*An hour earlier*
"Please Theo I'm sorry, you are not a fart sniffing loser, I was just joking!" You protest weakly from beneath Theos ass. A massive fart roars out directly into your expose nose and you feel your mind weaken, almost blacking out for a few minutes. "You will text Scott McCall begging to sniff his farts. Everytime he says sniff you will do so and address him as Master McCall. Alpha farts will be your new addiction but will never get you hard!" Theo laughs magically as he rises off your face to see you immediately grab your phone and text Scott.
*A little caption for the winning option on the Wolf Pack community poll*
"Yes yes, I promise I will be home soon, I am leaving work now babe!" You hang up the phone and rush out of the office as soon as the clock hits 5. Today was the first spot of good weather in weeks so you had cycled to work and planned to cycle back. If only you weren't in such a rush. "Fuck...fuck!" You groan, getting off the pavement after hitting a hole and falling over. You bicycle ran on and scratched against a blue jeep with a customized number plate reading "6Stiles9". Still in a hurry home you get back on your bicycle and rush home since the owner wasn't around. Unfortunately you hadn't accounted for the owners boyfriend being a werewolf that happened to walk around the corner behind you as you set off again. Just as you approach your apartment you are snatched up by a tall, beefy, hairy beast of a man and injected with sedative.
....A few hours of facesitting torture later....
"What are you sorry for?" The older hunk from roars above. Even after hours of him training you to behave, you try moving your head to the side to escape the stinking ass but are restricted by his shoes at either side. "I'm sorry for scratching Stiles' Jeep!" You answer into his clothed crack. "Good pup!" He grunts and farts onto your nose. You might have been here an hour, but the stench of Derek's farts hadn't gotten any less. The sound of an evil laugh fills the bedroom as he feels you coughing on his fart, your legs twitching and pushing the duvet off the edge. Derek leans slightly off, barely half an inch to give you hope. "Nah I don't think so!" He laughs hysterically as he just lets his ass lower again, accompanied by another wet fart. "If I strip my underwear off, I want you to kiss my hole and thank Daddy Derek. Then maybe I'll let you leave you little shit! Thumbs up if you understand!" Moments later, you stop struggling on his lingering gas and put your thumb up.
The weight is removed from your face and fresh air rushed in to your gasping face. Yet you don't have long to recover as he quickly slips his waistband around his cheeks and sits on your face again. Its hairy, sweaty, and sticky. The stench is ten times worse than before so you decide to just suck up your disgust and kiss his hairy pucker. You feel it pulsing as you put your lips on it, almost teasing you with its movements. "What else must you do?" You hear from above as Derek lifts his hips a tiny amount. "Thank you Der....Daddy Derek!" You barely finish the sentence before his hole slams down onto your open mouth and unleashes its gasses down your throat. Your struggle is fast and futile, fists banging the matress as your feet tear at the sheets. All the while Derek simply gyrates his hips, cheeks smothering you as his hole rests on your nose.
Once your energy depletes, he lays out your future. "When you wake up tomorrow you will transfer $100 to the acount I am noting on your phone!" Derek punctuates his sentence with a wet fart, making you weakly flinch. Weirdly you feel his ass hair grow thicker and more bushy. "Then you are going to text me to set up your next fart sniffing session, my name is saved as Daddy Derek!" Once again, his sentence ends with a fart, this time airy and thick. Your body twitches ever so slightly and his ass hair grows again, this time it seeped through your closed lips and blocked your nostrils making it impossible to breathe. Your arms barely move as you panic at the situation. "Finally, you will do those two things each week until you have covered my boyfriend's paint bill which is around $2000!" This time he just lets the farts roll out repeated. The gas prolonged your torture and suffocation within the hairy hellscape of Daddy Derek's cheeks until you finally couldn't handle the lack of oxygen.
str8 dude rips a nasty one right in his buddyâs mask. now his str8 buddy is gonna be inhaling the stink of his manhood all day long! just classic dude bro stuff, fags wouldnât get it. this is what men do. this is how men bond.
I arrived on campus, my senior year of college, to check in to my dorm room. I know what youâre thinking, a dorm room your senior year? Well I had just transferred schools. For my senior year I could finally transfer from community college to my local state school! And while I didnât want to be away from my friends for my senior year I knew it was the right decision. It did make me nervous that a bunch of people I went to high school with went here but I figured Iâd keep to myself and avoid them if I ever saw any of them.Â
When I arrived at my dorm building and told the woman at check in my name she gave me a baffled look. âCharlie Hoover? Sorry love, youâre in the wrong spot. Says youâre living in apartment 2Hâ. This was startling to me. âUh sorry are you sure? I registered to live in a single in this dorm building months agoâÂ
The woman at the desk knitted her eyebrows and looked at the screen in front of her. âHmm that is odd. According to these records you were moved to apartment 2H just last night.â The woman put her index finger to her lips and then just shrugged it off. âOh well. Off ya go!â She smiled almost dismissively.Â
I hesitated and almost walked away, but thankfully Iâve been working in my confidence. âSorry uhm actually could you see about moving me back to my original room? I donât have any friends here and donât really want to live in an apartment with strangersâŠâÂ
The woman gave me a soft look and replied âI canât do that love, especially since all of the dorms are booked up. I suggest you find your apartment and then write a nice email to the housing department in a couple weeks once youâre settled in.â She smiled me away again and this time I went with the current.Â
Back in my car I was panicking as I typed my new apartment into maps. Why was I moved to an apartment, and last night too?Â
My car slowly meandered towards the back ends of campus where the upperclassmen apartments were. Driving through the parking lot I saw various students unpacking their cars with friends. Finally I arrived at row H where my apartment would be. And to my surprise most of the students unloading there were tall jocks. Was this the athletics block?Â
I gathered my two suitcases and my back pack and began to trek across the lot to the apartments, scanning them for 2H. Once I spotted it I approached and used my key to open the door.Â
Inside there was music bumping and the apartment smelled⊠well letâs just say it smelled lived in. I climbed the stairs dragging my bags along with me and once reaching the top I saw three guys. The first two were tall muscular jocks. One blonde and one with dark brown hair. They were intimidating in their own right but it was the third guy who caused me to lose my breath.Â
Standing across from me was my high school bully, Brogan Thorpe. Except now Brogan was massive. Iâve heard of the freshmen twenty but it looks like Brogan got a freshmen twenty, sophomore twenty, and junior twenty. Not only was Brogan chubbier in his face and body but he now had a full greasy beard.Â
Once Brogan spotted me a huge grin spread across his face and he shouted âthere he is! Man of the hour! The Fart Hoover!!âÂ
I was panicking again. I wanted to run but I had no where to go. How was this happening?! The two other guys laughed at me along with Brogan. I was in shock as Brogan walked across the room with purpose. Brogan gripped my neck with his big calloused hand and forcefully guided me away from the stairs and deeper into his den. Or I guess I should say our den.Â
âTrev, Greg, this is the famous Fart Hoover.â Brogan declared as he pushed me down on the couch and then sat down next to me. Trevor, the blonde, gave me a dopey smile and waved to me. While Greg narrowed his eyes at me sort of scaring me.Â
I spoke up for myself for the first time since entering. My voice like a mouse. âMy name is CharlieâŠâÂ
Brogan laughed at me again and then threw his giant arm over my shoulder. He pulled me in closer to him. I was overwhelmed by his BO. âNo need to be modest Hoover. The boys know all about your fart sucking passion. His real name is Fart Hooverâ. Brogan declared, emphasizing the world real.
My face burned crimson. How is this happening? âH-how i-is this happ-happeningâ i was shivering in fear.Â
âAwww buddy!â Brogan began to jab at my ribs. I winced and tried to pulled away but his arm over my shoulder held me close. âMy uncleâs the Dean. So when i found out you were transferring i had him move you in with us. Last minute too so you had no way to get out of it. And now youâre here all year and you get to be my full time Fart Hoover. More than you ever were in high schoolâ Brogan Trevor and Greg all laughedÂ
âWe had beans for breakfast for you Fart Hoover!â Trevor interjected with cheer. It was mortifying to hear some guy I just met already call me by my humiliating high school nickname.Â
In high school Brogan was considered the hottest most popular guy. But early in our freshmen year, at a party, Ashley Lieu one of the most popular girls in our grade said she thought i was more attractive than Brogan. I remember feeling confident for the first time ever in that moment but Brogan shut that down quickly.Â
âHim? Nah, no way. Whatâs your name?â Brogan asked me dismissively. âIâm Charlie Hooverâ I reached my hand out to Brogan which he ignored. âHoover?!â Brogan laughed and the rest of the group joined in with him. âHere i got something for you to vacuum up, Hooverâ. I was taken aback by his statement. Brogan stood up and pushed his butt right in my face ripping a loud long squeaker on my face. âCome on deep whiffs Fart Hoover!â Brogan didnât move off my face until i took deep inhales through my nose.Â
The guys in the group all laughed while the girls shouted things like âewwwâ. It was safe to say after that Ashley Lieu did not find me attractive anymore. That was also the last party i was invited to for all of high school. And from then on Brogan made it his mission to fart on my face whenever he could. All of high school i was known as the Fart Hoover. Brogan and all his buddies would pin me down in the l locker room or in the bathroom just to make me sniff ass. Sometimes theyâd corner me after school and make me sniff each of their butts and farts. The worst was when Brogan would âsneakâ me into his wrestling practices so him and some teammates could practice pins on me. It was disgusting, humiliating, and took me a long time to get overâŠ
Brogan ripped a brutal sounding wet monster of a fart on the couch next to me pulling me from my self induced flashback. âAwww Bro!â Trevor and Greg burst out laughing along with Brogan at the fart. I stared at Brogan in horror watching his scrunched up face shift to pleasure as he finished farting. And no sooner than finishing Broganâs arm slithered off my body and repossessed my neck. Brogan stood from the couch quickly and forced my face directly into the cushion he was just sitting on.Â
The stink overwhelmed me instantly. Oh my fuck. It smelled of stinky eggs. âDeep whiffs!!â Brogan shouted as he smeared my face into the warm cushion. I donât know if it was his body warmth or the fart but between the heat and the stink I felt like i was suffocating. Regardless, like i was on autopilot i began to sniff the fart with earnest. Sucking the cushion with passion.Â
Brogan, Trevor, and Greg cackled at my eager fart sniffing like they were animals. âOh my god Bro! You werenât kidding!â Trevor shouted and Greg added with disbelief âthatâs so disgusting dudeâÂ
I sniffed and i sniffed until I could it smell any more of Broganâs rotten egg fart. And shortly after i stopped sniffing Brogan released his hold on my neck.Â
Instead of standing I slipped down onto my knees and looked up at the three jocks in the room with me pathetically. Trevor was on me in a second. âFuck bro Iâm not waiting. Iâve clenching my cheeks all morning. Itâs aboutta smell goodâ. Trevor jokingly raised the octave of his voice as he said the word good. Trevor had his hand in my hair and yanked my face into his perky gym shorts covered butt.Â
Trevorâs butt smelled musky and sour. âOo that feels weirdâ he remarked at the feeling of my face being mustered in his butt crack. âLooks gay as fuckâ Greg said sounding disgusted.Â
With no warning a deep bassy fart bellowed out of Trevorâs butt and onto my face. Instinctively I began to whiff and whiff and whiff. Burning my sinuses with Trevorâs fart. I gagged but continued to sniff. The guys all laughed at the funny sounding fart and even more at my pathetic deep sniffing. âDamn you love this shit Fart Hoover. Just wait until after one of my hockey practicesâ Trevor remarked.Â
After Trevor let go of my hair and stepped away from me I couldnât even bring myself to look up. I was disgusted with myself. Iâd worked so hard the last three years. I was finally becoming a man but in a matter of seconds here I was again. Nothing a but a Fart Hoover.Â
âLetâs go Greg! You talk big all the time about how your farts are the worst. Prove it with Fart Hoover.â Brogan goaded Greg to take a turn with me.Â
Greg scowled. âYea my farts are the nastiest! But this is weird. I donât want some losers face in my buttâÂ
Brogan reached out and grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks between his gross fingers. Directing my gaze upwards towards Greg. âAww come on dude. Itâs not weird he has a face made for farting on!â
This made Greg laugh a little. âOkay, I guess I have to agree his face does look perfect for farts.âÂ
Brogan let go of my face. âThatâs the spirit!â
I didnât even want to start thinking about what it could possibly mean that my face looked perfect for getting farted on.Â
Greg approached me again wearing his darkened look. Eyes narrowed nose slightly scrunched. Looking at me like I was disgusting to him. âYou want farts, Hoover?â He said with an aggression. Nearly spitting on me.
I glanced at Brogan and he raised his eyebrows looking at me sternly. I knew what the right answered was. My voice shook.Â
âYes pleaseâÂ
Greg smirked and then turned around presenting his butt to me. Greg then pulled down the back of his sweatpants and boxers exposing his bare ass to my face. Gregâs butt cheeks were covered in thick black hair and long wiry hairs tangled out of the whole length of his butt crack. I gasped at the sight while Trevor and Brigham howled with laughter. âMight as well give him an authentic experience, buns outâ Greg shrugged.
âDude you were calling us gay a minute ago and now youâre letting the pussy touch your bare ass?!â Trevor teasedÂ
Greg turned mooning his friends. âFuck off, if your ass was half as hairy as mine youâd he using it to your advantage tooâ. Greg shook his butt at them and then turned back to my awaiting face.
The miasma of heat emanating from Gregâs butt had me feeling woozy. His hand gripped my hair and guided my face into his butt crack.  Gregâs butt crack was so hairy and so damp I felt sick. He rubbed my face around in there a bit too! Wiping his butt sweat all over me. And then he unleashed a guttural blast. It lasted so long and the sound was squishy and gross! I was struggling to break free of his grip and get my nose away from the stink but Greg wouldnât let me go. I gagged and cried. But more importantly I sniffed! I sniffed as hard as my nose would allow! I was the Fart Hoover! This is my purpose! No! Wait thatâs wrong! My name is Charlie!
Oh fuck I was gonna be sick. Gregâs butt and fart were disgusting and I couldnât stop sniffing!Â
Finally letting me go I slipped from Gregâs hairy butt. My face was wet. Be it sweat or butt slime. âSo gross dudeâ Greg remarked as he pulled his pants back up and walked away from me into the kitchen.Â
I felt so defiled. âAlright Hoover, follow me. Letâs get you unpacked in your bedroomâ. Surprisingly, Brogan grabbed both of my suitcases for me and carried them back towards my bedroom for me. I sheepishly followed behind him.Â
âSee ya in a few fart faceâ Trevor called behind me.Â
Arriving in my room Brogan had already begun to unpack my clothes for me. He did so carelessly. Mixing underwear with shirts and jeans with socks. Iâd have to reorganize later. Brogan glanced at me continuing to unpack my bags with a speed. âClose the door and make your bed.â He demanded. And I obeyed.Â
I hated letting him boss me around. I thought I was better than this and yetâŠ
I pulled my sheets from my bag and started making my bed. By the time I finished Brogan had also âunpackedâ the rest of my clothing. No quicker than I tucked in my last blanket Brogan had pinned me on my bed. His massive chubby body squishing me into the mattress with ease. Our faces were inches apart and he stared at me with that disgusting sadistic lust. Brogan leaned in slightly closer and then belched right into my face. It was wet and sounded horrible so close up. And the stench was rotten.Â
Our eyes remained locked and I whimpered at Brogan. He responded by lightly blowing his burp air into my face. And I sniffed! Oh fuck I sniffed so deeply. It smelled so nasty! I gagged under his body weight. How could someoneâs burp smell so badly!? Does he ever brush his teeth?!
Brogan chuckled at me. âGood Fart Hooverâ. Brogan then lifted himself off my body but pinned my wrists with his hands and slid his crotch directly over my face. Brogan then began to lightly hump and tea bag my face. His navy blue mesh gym shorts were so musky and provided little barrier. âIâve missed you Hooverâ Brogan said softly as he continued to thrust on my face. He then slid forward so his butt was on my face. âPlease, youâre so disgusting!â I cried beneath him.Â
âIâm disgusting?!â Brogan sounded offended. âNah I think youâve got us mixed up budâ And I heard a hot silent fart hiss from his cheeks. It burned so badly. The stench was of eggs hot boiled stinky eggs. I sniffed it all. I sniffed it all with a gusto. Brogan laughed at my inhales. âYouâre disgusting Hooverâ.Â
Brogan then readjusted himself so he was facing my feet. âCase in point. You missed me too huh?â Brogan said as he flicked my rock hard dick that was nearly sticking out of my khaki shorts. Thatâs rightâŠ. Thereâs a part of me Iâve been keeping secret.
After Brogan had first farted on me back in the day it turned into a regular thing. He farted on me so much, every day multiple times a day, that I started to find him and his farts arousing. I think it was a defense mechanism. Brogan had literally conditioned me to fall in love with his stinky ass and nasty farts. No matter how much I told myself I hated farts theyâd still turn me on.
And Brogan knew what he did to me too. When we were in public or with his friends his bullying was cruel but in private, just the two of us, he got erotic. There were times when heâd make me touch myself while forcing me to sniff his farts. A part of me even believed for a bit that Brogan liked me and farting on me in the same way I liked him. But that was all too good to be true right? Brogan had numerous girlfriends over the years. And yet even when he was in a relationship heâd send me snaps of himself farting with captions like âgo jerk off to this Hooverâ.Â
I spent my formative years obsessing and fearing Brogan. But after spending the last three years apart and getting some therapy I thought Iâd finally moved on from him and his farts. I hadnât even jerked off to anything fart related in over a year! I was so proud of myself for finally making a man of myself. All for it to crumble beneath Broganâs swampy ass.Â
A deep gurgly fart grumbled from Broganâs butt. It vibrated my entire face. âFuck, Hoover. Sniff that shitâ Brogan moaned and began to lightly bounce on my face. Iâd missed this so much. I inhaled with all my might which caused me to gag aggressively.Â
Brogan hopped off my face and the bed. Once standing he yanked his shorts and boxers down. I looked over at him, now just wearing his stained tank top. Broganâs massive thick hairy thighs and beefy butt in full view and I was in love again. But of more important note Broganâs dick was standing at full mast.Â
Brogan looked down at me and licked his lips and then began to rub his cock. âYouâre gonna sniff mine, Greg and Trevâs farts every day Hoover. Youâre going to suck them all up like the good Fart Hoover you are.â Brogan squeezed his dick and his eyes rolled back. âIâm going to make you eat my farts every day and youâre going to thank me for itâ. I couldnât believe Brogan was jerking off in front of me. Heâd never gone this far before.
I couldnât resist any longer, my hand slipped into my shorts and I began to rub my dick as well. Brogan continued. âIâm gonna fuck so many chicks on campus and afterwards youâll be here to sniff my sweaty ass and farts. Thatâs all youâre good for!âÂ
We were both jerking off with a ferocity now. Brogan is perfect. I love his chubby belly. i love how much he stinks. I love how mean he is to me. âAnd youâre not allowed to have sex Hoover. Not that you could get anyone in the first place. But you belong to me. My farts are your sexâÂ
This made me cum in my shorts. Brogan was right his farts are my sex and they always have been. Iâve never been with a girl or a guy. And despite trying to find new sexual interests this last year the truth Iâve always known is that nothing turns me on like farts, like Broganâs farts.Â
âYour farts are my sex!â I moaned out like a pathetic bitch. It was the loudest Iâd been since entering my new home. I seemed to surprise Brogan but excite him. His cock now slurping as he slid up and down it. And then he came. Shooting cum all over my bed. He continued to jerk himself off until his dick deflated. And then he wiped his slimy hand on one of my pillows.Â
Brogan leaned over my face, his balls grazing me until he settled his bare ass on my nose. His butt was sweaty and he slowly moved it around on my face. Almost like he was trying to pet my nose with his butt crack hair. âIâm happy youâre here Hoover.âÂ
I was mortified and disgusted with both myself and the state of Broganâs nasty butt which he was smearing on my face. But more importantly I couldnât have been happier.  And I was looking forward to however Brogan would humiliate me next!Â
DaveFarts - Episode 39 âSuck-in Streakâ [Episode List]
A buggy fighting game both Tim and Dave are really good at gets finally fixed, which promptly leads the duo to exhume old rivalries and challenge each other. Itâs been long since they last played so fiercely, but while Dave is still quite skilled, Tim got a bit rusty, leading to an almost embarrassing losing streak. To add salt to the injury, Timâs bro knows how to mess with him even furtherâŠ
Want to feel like Tim?
Click on the links in the story to hear the power of Dave's farts!
The amazing farts in this story were provided by the talented AceFlatulist.
POV: Tim
This is the last time Iâm working on Saturdays: the clients do not seem appreciate it at all. Itâs like they have no idea how much time my shit takes and I swear som- ok, never mind, Iâm home now, home sweet home, the one I can pay for (my share at least) thanks to those clients, even the ones I despise. I need a beer.
The moment I stepped in I was greeted by Dave with a silent nod; by the look of it, he too just finished todayâs chores (like buying groceries and shit) and came back mere minutes ago, as he was still wearing a bunch of casual clothes (a hoodie and a pair of loose, lowkey shabby-ish jeans) and distractingly holding the car-keys while looking for -you guessed it- a beer in our own beloved fridge. I didnât even need to acknowledge my presence even further as my bro simply handed me a can of our favorite nectar.
âThanks, man.â
He just replied with with wink, as he took a sip of his own beer, and walked towards our couch in the so-called living room. As my eyes followed him, I only then noticed that the console was ON, and our TV was displaying a familiar âfaceâ, so to speak. The big, stylish logo of a fighting game both me and Dave really enjoy, Nekken.
During College years and after that (like, nowdays), a concerning amount of people in our friend group, myself included obviously, would still get heated up about it, though probably not for the reason you may be thinking.
Yes, obviously some of us are more skilled than others, but the more âviolentâ discussions happened in regards of the gameâs balancing, which was admittedly absolutely terrible, and some things were literally broken, like hitboxes not working properly, i-frames which are not supposed to exist, and unnecessarily distracting jiggle physics (no wait, that oneâs a feature I believe, for some reason). Iâm not the most skilled player, but I do have a decent Win/Loss ratio against most of our buds, and part of the fun with this broken mess was taking advantage of those bugs and glitches, which became an unofficial mode of its own among players. Naturally, the competitive play (online, or e-sports) was over before it could even properly start, and after 7 years (which is like forever in this context) since its last update (which only fixed the alignment of some UI buttons, as if the developers were purposely messing with us), no sequel announcement, and relative radio silence from the tricksters who made it, the game has obviously been deader than dead, save for us aficionados who would occasionally still boot it up from time to time to kick each otherâs ass.
As messy as the game is, it is kind of nostalgic, though Iâm pretty sure the last time we played was when we went to a dinner at Adamâs place some months ago; a small competition erupted after Dana, of all people, brought the game up, and so we, the manly men of the manly gaming community, obviously had to be ridiculous about it and turn the oddly formal evening into a jungle of beer, competitive play, and broken combos (which Dana actually enjoyed wholeheartedly by the way, and even easily managed to win a couple of matches against the host himself).
I took another sip of beer and walked towards the back of the couch, eyes on the TV, and only when I got closer I noticed that something was different. The title looked⊠better? Did I clean my glasses too well or something? My glance turned to Dave, then back at the TV, then back at him again: my bro couldnât help but smirk.
âNo way.â I mouthed.
I took a closer look at the title screen, and the release date written at the bottom of the screen said 2026. What the fuck is going on. Is this a joke?
âBro.â I simply said. âDid they just shadow-dropâŠâ
âThey totally did.â Dave confirmed. âI already hate this.â he added, smiling widely.
âHow did I not know this.âÂ
âNo one did.â Dave explained. âThey made an announcement this morning, uploaded the remake on the stores, and then disappeared again.â he took another sip of beer and then said the most important part. âAnd itâs free for whoever bought the original game.â
I was flabbergasted. âThereâs no way they did this, they want us dead.âÂ
I scrambled to read the patch notes, though this is way more than that: this is an entirely new version of the game.
âWhenever youâre ready.â Dave promptly said, now handing me a gamepad.Â
Obviously, we had many loose ends to tie up, when it came to this mess of a game.
âStill not over the backwards kick of 2021 huh?â I teased him.Â
âAn illegal move even for your standardsâ he replied, sitting down on the couch. âEven for this broken game.â
I sat on my side of the couch, putting the beer on the small table in front of him, and admired the gameâs shiny new look for a few seconds.
âDonât hate the player, hate the game.â I said.
Dave laughed. âWinning once against me truly did wonders to your self-esteem.âÂ
I swear I wanted to shrug that obviously immature tease off, but I just couldnât.Â
âExcuse me?â yeah I got baited.
âItâs not like youâre big on win streaks against yours truly.â he explained, with a smirk.
âFuck off I kicked your ass so many times you almost begged me for more.âÂ
âYou won single rounds, not matches.â he explained. âIn the end, despite your illegal moves, the honourable player still won in the end.â
Dave rage-baiting is very basic, heâs aware of it, heâs just playing, but the way he says it⊠goddammit itâs very easy with me, isnât it? And that makes no sense even: he too takes advantage of the gameâs broken gimmicks.
I mean donât get me wrong, my friend is a very skilled player, probably the best in our friend group, but even Gods can bleed, he just needs to accept it.
âFine, Iâll bite.â I stated. âPick any character, any stage, and maybe Iâll show you mercy.â
Dave just remained silent; he adjusted his position, took his shoes off and put both his legs on the small table in front of us.
âMercy, you say?â
A deafening fart erupted, a quick, loud, startling thunder, 4 seconds long (short for his standards), almost tearing a hole through his jeans. đ
The tent I immediately pitched between my legs almost pierced through my own khaki pants instead. Fuckinâ teaser⊠this is gonna be one of those days, isnât it?
âââ
The gameâs announcer, a familiar deep voice yelling stuff like âRound 1â, welcomed us back into our petty tournament.
In spite of my broâs best efforts to⊠distract me, I still managed to focus on the game.
With unimpressive results, sadly.
Indeed, while I am winning single rounds, I still have to win a single match.
Iâm a bit rusty and, believe it or not, the fact that the game runs more smoothly now is actually messing with my timing. Dave said the same thing and admitted he was also being thrown off by Nekken working as intended for the first time ever; unfortunately, heâs much more skilled than I am, and got used to the new rhythm of the characters and their combo much faster than me.
It was 3-0: Dave was winning with relative ease at this point. The way his fingers danced across the gamepad was like the movements of a skilled guitarist. I have to wonder if heâs enjoying humiliating me like this but, knowing him, he probably is. He baited me good, I fell for it, and I'm getting exactly what I deserve.
"You good, bro?" Dave said, knowing full well he was using his annoying tone.
For a second, I feared it was one of those one-liners that precedes... well, you know what.Â
The last thing I need right now is another distraction.
Iâm not going down without a fight.
I just won a round: I can take home at least one victory.
A few trips, a few dodges. Daveâs healthbar is almost empty; this might be it. Block, punch, and...
And Iâm a kinky mess, because the loud blast that echoed in the room, easily surpassing the sounds of the game, effortlessly ripped by the bro sitting on the other side of the ouch, completely throw me off, putting an end to an already precarious display of skills.
Dave snorted at the fact that his distraction worked, and his âshortâ 6 seconds rip was followed by him finishing me off (in the game), winning another match. He then just turned to me, with a silly, annoying smile.
I took a deep breath to calm down, accidentally sniffing up the smell lingering in the room.
âAll that bitching about illegal moves and then thatâs the shit you pull off to win?â I said. âVery honourable.â
My bro laughed. âThatâs not an in-game move, it doesnât count.â
I adjusted my glasses, pinching my nose, trying to resist the urge to strangle my friend.
âLetâs just wrap this up. You won.â I admitted.
âAw come on.â Dave said. âIâm seeing Dana later, I got nothing to do until then.âÂ
âYou got your point, you won fairly⊠sort of.â I insisted. âIâll go get another beer no-â
"You're such a pain in the ass!â he mocked me. "Pick up that fucking gamepad and let me dominate you a little more."
"Bro!â I said, trying not to laugh. "I admit it, you're stronger. Clearly you bested me!â
âYou better start putting your head into the game, or elseâŠâ
"Or else what?" I dared to ask.
Dave took a deep breath of his own this time, and laughed a bit.
"Okay, if you... well, if we were both normal people, Iâd probably just say that if you don't pick up that gamepad, Iâm gonna fart in your face so hard itâs gonna melt your skin off. But since our situation is⊠very different..."
"Shut up.â I hissed.
âI mean, you know me, I believe much more in... positive reinforcement.â my bro did his best to not burst into laugher there. âPerhaps the only thing you need to win is just a bit of⊠motivationâŠâ
âI just texted Dana âSorry for your lossâ, âcause I think Iâm going to kill you, Dave.â
Obviously, Dave was just messing with me, teasing, playing around my kink, the best friend and worst bully you could ask for. Not the first time he tries to âbribeâ me with his incredible farting skills⊠and not the last time Iâm going to fall for it.
No, I canât let him have this.Â
I know that at this point heâs super chill (always has been), open-minded and⊠possibly morbidly amused by my gross kink, and given how good heâs at farting and how awkward I can get because of it, I canât really blame him. Hell, Iâm probably the luckiest kinky person in the world.
Still, I gotta strangle him later.
âOkayâŠâ I scoffed. I sat back down. âI too have nothing better to do⊠but Iâm not doing this because of⊠you know what.â
Dave leaned a bit, obviously to promptly fart in response to what I just said, but then stopped. âNah⊠saving it for later.â
Teasing bastard.
And weâre back into the game, back at trying to kick each otherâs ass.Â
I was doing better, and I hate the idea of Dave thinking that I was doing so because of my kinky thirst.
Then I remembered⊠he just doesnât care. Heâs the one pulling this fart shit even when itâs uncalled for, so I guess I should just relax. Yes, relax and get my ass kicked again, fuck off. He won again.
âLooks like Iâm a lost cause, bro.â I remarked, sarcastically, as Nekken reminded us whoâs in the lead.
âYeah I gotta say, you were much better at the buggy version of this shit.â he played along.Â
âI donât need any reinforcement, I just need to practice.â I explained.
âNah, positive reinforcement it isâŠâ Dave insisted, raising his right leg. âWith a just a bit of FOMO thrown into itâŠâ he said, turning to me with a smirk, and ripping a loud, meat-y rip, around 4 seconds long.
Fuck. So heâs going there.
This is what I missed out by losing.
Really? Weâve come to this.
The newest frontier of my friendâs kinky mind games just to mess with me.
My boner was greatly enjoying this though. Yeah, my boner, not me, obviously, duh.
âLetâs try again.âÂ
I let Dave start another match, we picked anther stage.
Impressive combos from both sides, special moves, punches, blocks, kicks, dodges.
Yet, as usual, I won a single round, but my friend still won the match overall.
I just canât seem to be consistent, itâs like Iâm losing focus, regardless of any⊠distraction.
Well, I lost again, time to hear what Daveâs ass has to say.
My friend however didnât fart: he did lean again, raising his right leg, but the sounds that came out from his denim, sagging ass were different. He wasnât farting this time, he was sucking air in. Fuck.
He just casually sat back normally again, as if he didnât just breathe air in from his anus, and started another match. Why didnât he fart? Why was he keeping it in?
I tried, really tried, to focus on the game, but my boner was taking the wheel. The gamepad in my hand was nothing compared to the good-old joystick between my legs.
Another match, another loss.
Yeah I was hard, hard to watch.
I could tell Dave was having fun though, and so was I donât get me wrong, and this kinky layer of embarrassment from me was greatly amusing to him, the teasing bastard.
Here he goes again, leg raised, more air loudly going in through his sagging jeans, effortlessly, more power to the the already huge fart he was brewing. Is he going to do a suck-in every time he wins? Whatâs his endgame? He isnât even addressing that heâs doing that, what the fuck is going on.
Now I was getting mad, for some reason.Â
Raging boner on a raging gamer, fittingly.
And rage obviously didnât help at all, because this was the first time I didnât even win a single round.
Dave didnât even remark on his easy win, save for his usual âturns to me with an annoying smirkâ face.Â
He did, however, suck more air in, loudly.
Heâs got mad farting skills, whether itâs natural or on command, but the idea of him being able to even keep all of that in, brewing a huge one on command while kicking my ass in a fighting game⊠I donât know, thereâs something to it that itâs doing something to my chest. Stereotypical manliness, maybe? Or something along those lines. Either way, getting distracted was the norm now, thereâs no way I could win a single match.
Two more times I lost, and two more suck-ins I heard. My bro would still occasionally make comments on the gameâs new graphics, while rightfully make fun of my questionable skills at blocking, but the constant, alongside me getting crushed, was him sucking air in every time I lost.
I know I should probably shut up, I should probably just accept the fact that heâs chill. If heâs doing something this weird itâs because he just doesnât care⊠but you know me, I have to be annoying. I donât want him to think that Iâm doing this on purpose you know, doing this just to hear him, well, fart.
âDave I swearâŠâ I stuttered. âIâm not losing on purpose.â
A big olâ PAUSE appeared on the screen, and Dave turned to me.
He looked⊠a bit more serious, his eyes studying my awkwardness.
âI know youâre not.â he then said. âYou just really really really suck.â he whispered.
I was⊠oddly relieved.
âAnd speaking of sucking!â Dave then yelled, now acknowledging a big loud suck-in. âOof, thatâs gonna leave a mark later.â he said, to me, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
I was sweating: the gamepad was barely slipping in my grip anymore, while Dave kept playing like his hands were one with the buttons. I'm distracted, I'm nervous... but it's just a damn game, in the end.Â
Positive reinforcement or whatever the hell that was, it's all teasing; it's Dave mocking me, messing with me, for better or worse. Weird mind games my best friend loves to play just to get a laugh at my clumsiness, but enough is enough.Â
Itâs not that deep.
I just, simply, purely, need to focus.
Stench still lingering aside, I took a deep breath, eyes on my character, eyes on the opponent, eyes on the hitboxes that finally make sense for once. 3, 2, 1.
Round 1. Dodge, block. Tactical trip, uppercut.
I go for a combo, Dave dodges it, counters.
I take the hit, I survive.
Flying kick, another trip, final uppercut.
First victory.
Dave chuckles, calling me a "dickhead."
I appreciate the good-natured insult.
Round 2. Backjump, and then I throw a blade-hat.
Dave takes damage, but pulls off an unexpected counter to my kick, taking out a lot of my HP. I don't let myself get played, I don't push it.
Tactical retreat, I take the opportunity to let him blow off steam, to study him.
I focus on blocking, but I know Iâm going to lose this one. Not a problem.
I let him win this Round.
Round 3, final round. The deciding round.
I start like before, throw my hat, predict the counter.
Trip, new combo, special move.
Dave doesn't even have time to use his own combo before I grab him, throwing him off the stage and triggering a violent, hilarious cutscene.
No backwards kicks this time, Dave.
You got served.
I won.
Finally, I won.
I took a deep breath, managed to punch Dave on the shoulder, and threw the gamepad on the small table in front of us.
âWell well wellâŠâ Dave said, still managing to sound annoying even when defeated. âFirst time you beat me without cheating, Iâm impressed!â.
I ignored the obvious jab at my 2021 move. âFirst time you didnât pull any weird-ass illegal move in a way or another.â
Dave snorted. âYou might want to take that back.â
As usual, heâs the one who has to have the last word... even if the concept of a "word" is debatable here. More than anything, I'd call it a "roarâ⊠a rear, you might say.
With a deft movement, my friend adjusted his position, leaning on his side, leg stretching up, now fully showing off his sagging jeans ass in my direction, a familiar view that could be described as some sort of âdenim wallâ. Behind that wall, an ass that was brewing a huge fart, result of a series of immense suck-ins prompted by me lacking gaming skills.
My bro managed to get his ass a bit closer to me and didnât even wait for me to say anything: he simply let his ass speak as if I wasnât even sitting there.
âRound⊠1!â Dave muttered, imitating the deep voice of the gameâs narrator. And a huge fart erupted out of his ass. Loud, long, juicy. đ
Thunderous as usual, powered by his suck-ins from before and yeah, probably his own built-in skills that we all know. As the fart kept being ripped, he stretched his leg even more to ease the blast out, a gimmick that only made the view even hotter for me. I was exhausted, but still fighting the urge to plant my face into that roaring ass.
After 14 seconds, the blast was over, but Dave didnât change pose.
âHowâs that for positive reinforcement?â he joked, we both laughed like idiots.
I almost didnât notice his arm reaching for my head, pulling me down, closer to his denim ass, as if it was, you know, the most normal thing to do in that situation. Sure, why not: you dominated me into the game, might as well do it on this couch as well, not gonna complain.
âRound⊠2!âÂ
I shouldâve seen this coming.
The moment my nose touched the rough, smelly, warm surface of my friendâs sagging jeans, very close to the spot where a pair of red underwear were visible, my entire face was blasted my another loud fart, strong enough to make my entire face shake. đ
Being on-command, the stench wasnât as terrible as you may imagine, but thereâs still ass and sweat involved, so trust me it wasnât pretty. The sound was hot, loud, chainsaw-like, and rocked my eardrums like Dave always knew how to do. Around 15 seconds, brutal and long like the previous one.
Before I could even say anything, insult him, or even just thank him like the awkward mess I am, Dave adjusted his position a bit more, this time wrapping both his legs around my head, trapping me into a denim gas chamber.
âRound⊠3!â
Oh come the fuck on.
Another blast, loud, dangerously meat-y, airy. Absolutely unbearable now. đ
This felt more natural than on-command, probably a mix of both, if thatâs even possible (and for Dave, it usually was). I could heard Dave snort a bit as he kept pushing it out, holding my head in its place, making sure none of his reinforcement got wasted. 12 seconds, 12 seconds of reinforcement down my throat basically, and he was done.
Just as his legs pulled me in, those same legs then pushed me on my side of the couch, far from his ass, but not immune to the smelly AOE of the farts I just got all over my face.
I didnât say anything, obviously, and just let Dave laugh at me as usual. Or with me.
âYeah you might be rightâŠâ he said, noticing the smell. âTotally counts as an illegal move.â
The teasing asshole laughed at my awkwardness, then reached for his phone and gamepad.
âWelp, I got dinner with Dana. Gonna take a shower.â he explained. âI need the bathroom⊠unless you need it first.â he mocked, purposely throwing his gamepad on the tent I was visibly pitching between my legs.
He snorted and left me there on the couch, alone dealing with my painful boner.
You gulped, wondering what had forced you into coming back again for another day of work. Honestly, you didn't think you even had a choice at this point. You'd tried to find a new job, but no where else was hiring, your dad wouldn't listen to your complaints and you were in desperate need of money (no matter how repugnant you thought the job was).
You took a deep breath and headed through the door. Thankfully, the opening reception area didn't smell awful as you kept expecting, although that somehow made you feel even more nervous.
"Good, you're here." You slowly and nervously looked over towards Mr Blake, sitting at his desk. You approached him nervously. "Well, at least you're on time today, let's see if you can-" He paused to lean to the side a bit, squinting slightly.
PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT!
"-ah, keep this up, and you may just get a promotion." He continued, after casually ripping a loud, muffled fart into his seat pillow, and leaning back down again. You stood there a little a ghast. Did he really have to do that, when talking so formally? Actually, you didn't want to focus on that, the less you were forced to think about these never ending fart machines, the better.
"Y-yes sir." You tried to be obedient at least, hoping to get through this as quickly as possible, despite the fact that yesterday felt like it lasted forever. After witnessing Mr Brown use the bathroom twice more that same day, you figured you nose could be ready for anything by that point.
"Good to see your optimism." He said with a cheeky wink at you. "Now, you're booked into a session with Mr Richards today. He's got some important work today and couldn't come down to collect you. His office is just up the stairs over there and too the right. His name is on his office door, you can't miss it." Mr Blake pointed to a set of stairs down the hallway. "Now hurry along. I've got some important work today and I-"
FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT
"-Need to focus on this appointment." Blake stated, leaning to the side, casually letting out another loud, muffled fart, again acting as if nothing had happened, and went back to his computer. You nodded and quickly hurried away, before the smell could seep out through the pillow under his large ass, and make its way to your nostrils.
As you were heading up the stairs, you tried not to focus on anything else around you, hoping that if you turned off your mind as much as you could and get through the day without choking on the noxious fumes wafting around the area. There were also some points where you tried to eye avoid contact with anyone else, in case they tried to steal you away for their own personal needs.
Eventually, you came across Mr Richard's office, and knocked, praying he would be out and you could make a hasty escape.
"Come in" You heard his cheery voice from inside. You sighed, realising it was ultimately useless but worth the hope, and headed in.
As you expected, the room reeked of the classic rotten egg miasma you really wished you hadn't become so associated with. And in pride of place, at the centre of the room, sat the big, bulky man himself, Mr Richards, typing away on his computer.
"Oh hey there, good to see you. I was wondering when you'd get here. My bum's so chatty this morning, and he has some bad breath." He smiled gleefully, as he leaned to the side.
PPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTT!
"Ahhh, see what I mean. I think it was the beans I had for breakfast, I had quite a few helpings, and now I'm paying for it." He giggled, as you gulped in horror from the rumbling bass and fresh wave of potency. You didn't know how he was exactly 'paying for it', when he didn't seem at all effected by his own bowel brew.
"Could you just sit down behind it and muffle them for me please? I need to focus on my work, but I just keep tooting, and it's a bit distracting. Thanks." You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now.
You crouched down behind him, your eyes widening in both terror and amazement as you stared at his large backside, almost bulging out of his white khakis (though you guess you shouldn't be too surprised, as pretty much all the workers looked like this). You try not to gag as the stink got stronger when closer to the source.
"Goodie, now don't worry. I think it should last about an hour or so, but breakfast does make my tooshie rather chatty. Actually, every meal does that to me, so who knows how long it'll go for." He said nonchalantly, shrugging to himself, which made you tremble. And then began the long morning of you pressed into Mr Richards musky, revolting ass, as he ripped fart after fart on you.
It was truly repugnant, reeking of beans, eggs, meat, and god knows what else. Your mind was too scrambled by the almost deafening noise of his flatulence to fully pay attention to your own thoughts. To make it worse, Mr Richards would occasionally make some kind of comment, either before or after letting it rip on you, whilst giggling like an immature school boy.
BBLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!
"Did someone leave the window open? It's really windy in here."
PPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT!
Oooh, did we get a new pet duck?"
"Oh, Incoming!"
FFFFFFFRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT!
"Bomb's away"
FFFFFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBBB!
BBBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTT!
"Oops, that one just slipped out... nah, only kidding. Hehehehe"
DDDDDDDDDLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAABBBBBBBBB!
"Wow, I sure am farty today."
PPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARPPPPPPPPP!
"Wow, sounds like you two are having a good chat down there."
Oh hey, pull my finger. Oh yeah, you can't reach. Don't worry, I'll do it, hgggnnn...."
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDD!
He just seemed to keep going, almost never running out. On top of that, his immature, childish "jokes", whilst he chuckled as if they were the funniest thing ever, made it so much more unbearable (as if the pungency wasn't bad enough). If it weren't for that aspect, you probably would've thought Mr Brown was worse, but the deliberate teasing was just adding so much more gas to the fire (pun intended?). You'd lost track of time, but you were pretty sure it had been at least over an hour by now.
"Ok, ok, I think it feels like my butt's finished now, so that means you can-"
FFFFFFVVVVVVOOOOOMMMMMM!
"Oh no, wait, I think that was the last one-"
PPPPPRRRRRWWWWWWBBBBB!
"Or maybe it was that one? Ok, I'll stop-"
BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDD
"Starting now-"
VVVVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP!
"Or maybe now-"
PPPPPPPVVVVVVVVOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB!
"Hmmm, my bum just keeps going, doesn't it? I guess I'll just keep going until it really stops. Sounds like a good plan to me." He settles down, rubbing his ass, burying your face further in as you whimpered, wondering what you'd ever done to deserve this.
Finally, after what felt like days, but was probably only a couple more hours (that you somehow hadn't passed out during), Mr Richards cut a fart that sounded and felt dangerously wet. After a few seconds, he stood up, finally giving you some air. Despite the room pretty much smelling almost the same, you would've taken it any day over the direct source.
"Uh oh, I think I need to poop." He said, in an innocent childish tone. You just starred, shocked that a grown man was acting like this. "Come on, let's go. I think you're gonna wanna see this, it feels like it's gonna be a record breaker (at least for this week, I think)." He dragged you with him towards the bathroom, with a happy spring in his step. You felt yourself shiver from what you were probably about to experience.
There was no way you were going to make it through even a month, a week, maybe even another day, before choking to death on the stink from at least one of these monsters.
Finally got another part of this out.
Apologies for the long break, I've been extremely busy with so much stuff, so I hope you're able to enjoy this and that it makes up for the long gap. :)
I've got a few more story ideas in mind, including a potential part 5 of this story, so look forward to those when I finally pull myself together and get them done in 2029.
It's not "Fart cam" referring to a camera. It's for 'Cameron'. He's been making his son take his farts for years. It started out as a one off silly prank, but it built up and now it's just a habit of there's. When he has to fart he calls out, "Fart Cam", and his son gets his face in position. It's easy to do since it's just the two of them; since the mom left over it and all women the dad has dated are so repulsed, it'll be just the two of them for a long time. Just the way they like it.
The only time I get the urge to watch streamers is when I see clips of them farting and burping on camera. I have to resist falling down the rabbit hole of binging on them just hoping to catch a fart đ¶
My brother loved to torture me. heâd always rub any source of stink on my face. I was 14 at the time and even though I had some muscle my brother, Mark was the god of jocks standing at a monster 6 foot 2 and covered in muscle at the age of 17
it was 2 weeks into the summer and I woke up to something on my face. I took a sniff and gagged it was then that i knew what it was.It was my brother. Pprrttbbt âooh sniff that up bitchâ mark said with enjoyment. He loved waking me up to his stink, whether that meant him farting, or just holding one of his dirty socks up to my nose.
Around the same time that week our parents had to leave for 2 weeks to visit family and of course they were leaving mark in charge.f***.
2 days after our parents left. as I walked to my room I walked into my brother wearing a pair of tightie whites which looked too small for him,â hey Bro, Iâm having a party tonight itâs gonna be fucking awesome, so stay in your room, k? Thatâs my first order, follow all of my orders and the next two weeks will be bearable, but donât do as I say and i can make it much differentâ
The day after his party was quiet, maybe my brother was being mature. I had spent the previous day in my room. I walked into the living room to find it in a complete state.âMark!!â i shouted. I heard thumping from his room and he came out, FUCKING NAKED.âwhat the f*** I was sleeping you shitâ. âfirst of all put some clothes on ffs and second look at this messâ mark scanned the room and laughed âoh it wonât be like this for long, cus your gonna clean itâ I was furious âam I f***â a dark smirk grew on his face âwell if you wonât clean then you can have another job thatâll last the 2 weeks, you can be my scent bitchâ I knew what this meant and tried to run even if I knew there was no point. He grabbed me and dragged me to his room âyou ainât getting away, I have a shit ton of morning thunderâ he threw me on his bed gave me a cocky smirk and sat BAREASS on my face. The smell was horrific. âhere it comes Broâ I felt his cheeks clench before releasing a Loud trumpet, BBRRAPTTTTTABT. He was over my mouth so I had no other choice than to sniff . It was a toxic, shitty smell and they kept coming. Pprrttbbt. oh that was a wet one bitch, Brrapptbbt. ooh bbbraptssth. mg nose was burning on the sulphuric compounds. ok i got stuff to do for now so Iâm gonna just knock ya out. I felt him bear down PPssshhhrttrrshurt. A sizzling sbd and I feel dizzy. nighty night Bro PRAPBBBTBPAARTSJHHHBRAPTshhhpb raptshhh. I faded while gagging.
I woke up not not remembering where I was until I looked around and found myself in my brothers room. It was then I remembered what had happened. I tried to get up but I was tied to his bed and to make matters worse he had put duct tape over my mouth so I was forced to smell the air still smelling like his farts. I donât know how long I waited until I heard the door âHey Bro, Iâm homeâ he walked in and laughed when he saw me âand guess what, Iâve been at the gym so Iâm nice and sweaty for you. I almost got kicked out because I refused to wear deodorant and was stinking the place out haha weâre gonna have funâ he laid down on top of me on his side with his elbow above me so u were forced into his greasy pit âooh f*** that reeks, sniff it upâ he rubbed his pit over my nose for what seemed like an eternity but was probably just 20 minutes âooh my other armpit feels left out, youâre going to have to make it up to himâ he rips the duct tape off your mouth but before you can scream he forces his armpit into your mouth âplease maagghrk staahpâ I gurgled into his pit âok I will stop but now those Buritos I had before coming home are acting upâ he gets up and lowers his shorts and underwear until you see his sweaty and hairy ass crack â NO MARK PLEAGHGHâ was all I got out before he sat his hole on my mouth âshut up bitch, or Iâll shit down your throatâ you stay silent after that âHere we goâ mark yells before squeezing a sbd that fires out of his ass and down my throat, I start gagging â ooh that one felt nastyâ I spent the next half hour getting blasted by every fart known to man. sbdâs, loud trumpeting blasts and once he even farted a wet one and i felt the ass juice hit the back of my throat. âok Iâm off to go fuel up and watch TV, when I come back I may even have a little treat for youâ he went to put his underwear on âwait what the f*** am I doing I donât need a wear underwear in the houseâ he holds the ass part to his back side and rips a fart that lasted like 14 seconds and grabs the duct tape âIâll give you these so you can keep my scent, hahaâ he then taped the ass part to my nose âlater bitchâ
Talk about hot, MFF has the largest library of male face farting videos, Visit our site for hundreds of male face farting videos for free! >Â https://malefacefarting.wixsite.com/site
Thestinkverse website is finally live!!! It links all my social pages together, provides a full commision form, and allows access to the Archive.
Due to how busy I have been lately the archive is not fully completed yet. Teen wolf, Dirty Desires, Dom Qoutes will all be completed before 2026. However I have managed to get through the following:
Rockwell High (Intros, series, and some short stories)
Shatterstone College (Some stories)
Kpop mega posts (All 4)
The Corporate Stink (Intros and 4 part series)
The archive and website will be regularly updated, multiple times a week when possible, to polish parts of it and update images for stories which I have not yet been able to recover.
*Note that it is best to view the Google docs in print layout but it is entirely up to you*
welcome @idkwhatthisaccountis - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
