So as promised here in my pinned post, I owe you all a vore story, and I finally took the time to write one out. It's a proper short, ~5400 words. There are dad x son elements, but the vore itself is between the dad and a hookup from Grindr while the son... participates in his own way.
If you like and feel like supporting me, buying some of my erotica, whether it's Connor's TF stories or Luca's incest stories, would be cool af. No pressure though. Okay, here it goes:
1
The first summer I hopped in my dad’s truck after a year of college passed, I spent the hours working up the courage to finally blurt out, “I’m gay.”
That buff, gruff contractor glanced over at me. He wore one of those smirks he pulled out any time he was about to drop one of the worst dad jokes ever concocted. But all he said was, “Guess the rumors are true.” Before my heart could sink or my mind could race over the possibilities, he said, “Apples really don’t fall far from the tree.” His beer gut rumbled. He scratched his chin. “You hungry?”
On his next birthday, he came out to everyone.
The third summer, the one after my junior year, he sits in his truck in a rainbow flag tank top. He’s no more flamboyant than he’d been before, but he’s taken to wearing pride stuff. “How else are the twinks going to know to hit on me?” he’d say to anyone who questioned his fashion.
“You expecting to run into a bunch of twinks today?” I ask as I buckle up.
“Figured you’d be friends with some,” Dad says. “I liked that Trevor. He looked pretty delicious. You hitting that?”
“We’re both bottoms,” I say.
Dad tuts. “That’s a shame.”
“He’s all yours if you want him.”
“Mm.” He grabs his bulge and shifts it around.
I look out the window as quickly as I can. Watching my old man get hard over one of my friends is not on my bucket list. “If we weren’t going on a trip, maybe I’d set you two up.” My nose scrunches. Those words taste gross.
Buildings whiz by in silence. Guess Dad felt as awkward as I did. Even after he came out, we didn’t talk much about it. He once asked me for help setting up his Grindr profile, and every now and then he would text with questions about gay culture, but that was it. It was weird, not that I wanted to talk to him about that shit. There’ll be plenty of time for it, though. We’re going on a road trip from Stonewall all the way down to Hamburger Mary’s and then back to my apartment. He wanted to make up for all the Pride Months he’s missed out on.
A few minutes pass, and Dad turns down the old man rock music. He clears his throat. “You ever swallow a guy?”
I frown and don’t look up from the word game on my phone. “Yeah, Dad, I’ve got a belly full of cum right now. I swallow all the time.”
He laughs. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I wasn’t being serious.”
“I know, Tanner.” Leather creaks as his grip tightens on the wheel. He shifts around in his seat. “I was asking if…” He buzzes his lips. “Fuck it. You ever digest anyone?”
He isn’t grinning. Shit. I have to give him credit. Normally when he’s joking, he can’t keep his face straight. “Don’t think I’ve ever even met a pred.” That probably isn’t true. 0.5% of the population are preds. I’d probably ran into one on the street before. I’d watched a vorno or two with friends.
“You never get hungry or anything?”
My brows rise. “For a whole person? No. Think I’d just hurt my jaw.”
“You don’t have to use your mouth.”
“What?”
“Some of those… types, uh, I don’t think they like the word preds. But some of those guys, they can use anything: mouth, ass, cock, even. Pits. Chest. Sure others can use more than that. You’ve never…? With any of them?”
“Could tell you about the time I almost got fisted, but that’s not really a father-son convo, is it?”
He laughs again. “It could be. But I get it.” He sniffed. “I was just… wondering, you know, how close the apple fell to the tree.”
Dad doesn’t look at me.
“That’s not very funny.”
“Nah. Not most of the time. I mean, I get a good chuckle when I fart out a last breath.” He chuckles. “Sorry. That’s dark.”
I squirm in the seat. “People just… let you do that?”
“Some.” He scratches his chest. “Tend not to think it through, but some want it. Some deserve it.” He clears his throat. Some sweat coats his forehead. “You’re the first person I’ve told in a long time. Well, that didn’t wind up inside me.”
“Right. Well. No worries there.” I try out a laugh. It doesn’t sound right. His stomach doesn’t look large enough to hold a whole person in there, but in those vornos, preds seemed to be a pretty stretchy sort. “Um. Thanks for telling me. Glad you, uh, could.” The truck feels smaller than normal. It’s old. The AC isn’t as strong as it should be. My shirt sticks to my chest. “Well, you’re still my dad. No change there.”
“Good.”
I can’t stop the words before they fall out. “What happens to the guys you eat?”
Dad lets out a long breath. “I always let ‘em out, Tanner. It’s just, you know, sometimes I let ‘em out as a pile of shit.”
“Ew.”
He laughs. “Yeah. It’s not pretty.”
A few more buildings pass, and then we’re on the highway. There’s not much traffic. We left at a weird time to avoid it all.
“What about the others?” I ask.
“What?”
“You said sometimes.” I turn the air up. The truck smells like sweat. My mouth is dry, and my head’s a bit light. Prickly. “So you, like, don’t digest all of them. How do you know which one is which?”
“We barely talk about sex but you want to know all about me churning guys, huh?” Dad taps the steering wheel. “Some guys, there’s not much choice. They just don’t last long. Nuts or gut claim ‘em too quick to let ‘em out. Others… I mean, anyone digests if you keep them tucked away long enough, but until then, you can always let ‘em out. And I don’t really have a checklist or anything. It’s more a feeling. Some guys are guys. Some guys are food. Food gets churned.”
“What’s it like?”
“Hot as fuck.” He laughs. “For me.” He slaps his gut. “Gets pretty heated in there, so I guess it’s hot for him too. They almost always jerk off.” Dad glances over at me. “That’s what you really wanted to know, right?”
“I don’t want to know if you get off to snuffing people, Dad.”
“Nah. You wanted to know if you’d get horny in here.” He winks, looks back at the road. His voice drops. “I could do it to you.”
My stomach clenches. I scoot away from him, not that there’s much room to do that in the truck. But fuck. My stupid fucking cock stirs in my shorts. “Do what? Shove me up your ass and get me to jerk off in you or… Or, you know, churn me.”
Dad hums. Then, “Or.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” I mumble.
“Scared you’ll ask to try it out?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You’re my son. I love you, Tanner. I don’t want to dump you into the sewers.” He reaches over and grabs my shoulder. “Trust me. Even if you’re begging for it, I won’t eat you.”
“I won’t beg.”
He laughs and lets go of me.
2
“You want to grab a slice somewhere? Think I saw a 99 cent pizza nearby,” Dad says after stepping out of the shower in our hotel room. A towel hangs around his waist. Steam clings to his hairy muscle gut; it dances over his fat nipples. The novelty ball cap he stuck on when we entered NYC, the one reading ‘Daddy’, is unfortunately accurate in a couple of ways.
I hit the mute for the TV. The episode of Family Guy quiets. “Sure. You going with or want me to grab one for you?”
He shakes his head. “I already ordered dinner.”
Rude. “I don’t get any?”
Dad holds up his phone. “You can’t. I got it off Grindr.”
My eyes drift down to his lips. He’s grinning. His canines are sharp. They always have been. Why is that? It’s not like preds chew their food. “So I should… wander around the city for a couple hours.” My throat is dry. Clearing it doesn’t help. “Really should have gotten two rooms.” The king-size bed seems to shrink as I grab my wallet off the dresser.
You don’t digest a full person in just a few hours, do you? The guy will still be gurgling away when we’re in bed. When…
I can just sleep on the couch. Duh.
“Well, have fun.”
“Hold on.” Dad grabs me. He stretches an arm out in front of us, grins at the camera, and snaps a pic. “Really captures your anxious chipmunk vibe.”
“I’m not a chipmunk.”
“Nope. You’re a daddy’s boy, and now the Grindr folks know it.” He slaps my back. “You’re too wound up. Figure telling the grid that I want to watch my boy get pumped might get your ass more filled than mine is going to be.”
“You don’t want to watch that.”
Dad shrugs as he walks over to the bed. “You’ve got no idea what I want. Now that I’m thinking about it, this red-headed twink is going to be a while. Go ahead and grab me a slice too while you’re out.”
3
I’m in the middle of shuffling through my clothes to figure out what exactly it it I want to wear out to the bars when there’s a knock on the hotel door.
“You mind getting that?” Dad asks. He’s not doing anything, just lounging on the bed in his tighty whities, but I am technically closer to the door, so it’s whatever.
A towering, ginger twink stands on the other side. He’s got a smattering of freckles that concentrate around his nose like some cartoon blush effect. The grin on his face exposes brighter teeth than I’ve ever seen, even on TV. They’re fucking blinding. “You look like a deer in headlights,” he says, staring down at me. “That’s cute.”
I clear my throat and step back. “Um, come in. I’m Tanner.”
“I’m George.”
“Phillip,” Dad calls out, though he doesn’t get up from the bed. “My boy’s real cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir,” George says as he walks in. He isn’t carrying anything with him. Must have his wallet and stuff in his pants. Would he even bring anything, though? Does he know he’s my dad’s dinner? If he came here to get churned, there’s no reason to bring anything with him. Maybe he doesn’t know. Fuck. That’s grim.
I close the door, and in doing so, I probably seal the guy’s fate.
“Handsome couple,” George says as he pulls off his shirt.
Dad winks at my look of confusion. “I’ve got good taste,” he says.
“You two ever do this before?” George reaches out. He almost touches my face, but doesn’t. His finger hovers over my nose. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you, Tanner?”
I nod.
How could I not be? I’ve never seen a pred get to work before.
“That’s cute,” George says. He takes a step closer. His cologne is nice. There’s a hint of vanilla in it. That’s the best scent. If I were a pred, would that smell make my stomach growl? Would I grab him and shove his face down my throat?
It doesn’t growl, though.
“Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable if I just watch at first,” George suggests. “Let your daddy ease you into it. That sound good?”
My jaw trembles.
No. That doesn’t sound good. Dad should just get this over with. Otherwise…
The bed creaks. Dad climbs out of it. His massive feet plod against the floor as he saunters over to us. He’s about the same height as George but his mass was enough for nearly three of the twink. “Smart idea,” he says. He grabs my chin. “Let daddy take care of you, Tanner.”
Our lips press together.
Oh fuck.
I’m kissing my old man.
And it isn’t a little peck, either. His thick tongue forces its way between my lips. His calloused hand wanders down my back until it grips my ass. Dad’s strong fingers knead my ass as his tongue explores my mouth. He tastes like pizza. I probably taste the same.
His stomach growls.
A shiver runs up my spine, and it shoots a moan out of my mouth.
Dad chuckles and pulls back. “Enjoying the show?” he asks George.
“Yeah.” The twink has tossed off the rest of his clothes. He stands there naked, hand slowly working the shaft that’s as long and skinny as the rest of him. The hair around his cock is a darker red than what’s on his head.
“Be a good boy,” Dad says. He lets go of my ass, grabs my shoulder, and pushes me down to my knees. “Help our new friend out with that while daddy gets a taste of his hot mouth.”
It’s weird to be kneeling in front of my old man while he’s tenting out his underwear. There’s a wet spot near the head of his cock. He and the twink are practically the same height. It’d be easy to kiss one dick and move right to the other.
My brows dance.
That was a fucked up thought. He’s my dad.
Warmth spills off his bulge though. A woodsy scent wafts from him, too. It mixes with George’s vanilla and dances around in my nostrils. Each breath makes my thundering heart calm down a little.
They kiss above me, shoulders pressed together. Dad has a possessive grip on George’s neck. George’s cock twitches every couple of seconds. The head is shiny with precum.
Better to suck him off than to keep thinking about the rest of it.
It’s a nice cock. It feels better against my tongue than it looks, honestly. George’s precum is sweet but not overly so. It doesn’t overwhelm the natural taste of a dick. It’s a shame it isn’t a little thicker. It’s at the exact girth that’s hard for me to get down my throat. A little more in either direction, and I wouldn’t wind up gagging on it almost immediately. Don’t ask. I don’t know why I’m built like that.
After a few tries, I stop attempting to deepthroat him. It just isn’t going to happen. I keep to the first couple of inches.
Dad moves a bit, and suddenly his bulge is pressed up against the side of my face as I suck George off. My cheek rubs against his shaft. The scent is a little stronger. The more I breathe it in, the more my thoughts stop racing. Or maybe it’s the cock sucking that’s doing it for me. Everyone is treating this as normal. If I freaked out, I’d be the weird one. Just go with it, Tanner. That’s what I keep telling myself until I no longer do.
At some point, Dad and George stop kissing. Dad steps back. He shoves down his underwear and climbs back onto the bed. His massive cock drapes over his right thigh. Is that natural, or did it only get that big from gulping down other men? Mine doesn’t look like that. Maybe my dick genes came from the other side of the family.
“He’s cock drunk,” George says. He bends over, shoves his hands under my pits, and pulls me up to my feet. His tongue traces the side of my neck. “You’re wearing too much.”
“Strip him,” Dad orders.
“Yes, sir,” George says.
Before I can think to do anything, George is pulling my shirt off. His fingers are soft. He rubs one over one of my nipples as he shoves my shorts and underwear down in one motion. He grabs my dick. I’m hard. When did that happen? “Shame you’re a bottom,” he whispers as he strokes me. “You’ve got a nice dick, Tanner.”
“Thank you,” I mutter.
Dad clears his throat. We look over at him. He’s got his hands tucked behind his head. “I need a good boy in each of my hairy fucking pits right now,” he says. His cock jumps. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Mm. Lucky you, having a daddy like that whenever you want,” George whispers. He lets go of me and climbs onto the bed. His small ass sways a bit as he crawls over to Dad’s left side. He nuzzles into Dad’s underarm.
“You just gonna stand there?” Dad asks.
“Dad, I—”
“Come here.”
Precum bubbles out my dick. My balls clench. Gooseflesh raises on my arms. I shouldn’t. But I nod. And I climb onto the bed.
“That’s a good boy,” Dad says as I get closer and closer. He licks his lips. “Get a real good taste of your old man, okay? Might just wake you up.”
Oh. He wants me to be a pred.
It must be lonely, being one of those. There aren’t many in the world, and most people talk about them like they’re these cruel monsters. Dad was in the closet for so long, and he’s a pred on top of that.
What a lonely life he must’ve had.
I don’t want to be what he is. I don’t want to snuff guys out in my gut. But… I don’t want my old man to feel alone anymore either. Maybe he’s right. Maybe if I take a dose of his pheromones or sweat or whatever he thinks is in his pits that’ll do the trick, I’ll be the one with a gut stretched out over George. And he’ll coach me through it all. And we’ll have each other.
I press my nose into the furry expanse of my dad’s underarm.
It’s the same scent as his bulge, but more concentrated. Static bounces around in my lungs. My brows and lips dance as I smell him. My toes curl. I moan, and my tongue stretches out. I lap at his skin. I don’t know why. But it’s right. It’s what he wants. What I want. I need it.
He tastes so fucking good. Smells good. A fuzziness fills my head.
Did I take a gummy earlier? I haven’t been drinking.
Fuck, he smells good.
Dad growls. “Good fucking boys,” he says. “Worshiping your god. Such good sons.”
I nuzzle against Dad’s side. My hard cock rubs against him. I could cum like this, tongue buried in his pit, humping him. His chest hair is soft against my palm. Why am I rubbing his chest? Dad’s cock is further down. If I reach for his dick, will it take hold of my hand? Will I go back down the dick that made me and get melted down into a load? From cum we’re born, to cum we shall return.
But when my fingers start their journey down, Dad says, “That’s enough. Sit up.”
George and I both obey. It doesn’t take any thought. It’s nice. It’s nice to obey.
My head is swimming.
Dad’s stomach growls. My hole pulses.
“I need a nice big meal for dinner,” Dad says. He grabs his gut and shakes it. “Which lucky boy is going to melt away in daddy’s belly tonight?”
“Me,” George and I say at the same time.
Dad chuckles. “Yeah? You both wanna feed me? Was wondering if my pred stink would work on you, Tanner. Guess coming out of my dick doesn’t protect you from the food chain.” Dad hummed. “I don’t know. I might only have room for one prey boy in there. How to choose…”
“I’m your son,” I say. I don’t know why I want it so bad, but I do. I need to be inside him. No, it’s not that. I need to be… melting inside him. I need to return to Dad’s body. It’s what I was born for. Screw college, careers, everything. None of it could ever be as important as giving Dad the nutrients from my body, my youth, my everything.
He lifts his legs up. A large hand tugs on my arm. “Straddle my chest,” he orders, and I oblige. He keeps pulling his legs back. I grab them on instinct, but he places a hand on my back and pushes me down until my nose hovers over his cock. “You’re a bottom, so you need to make sure my cock is nice and wet before I fuck you. George, you want at this daddy cunt? You get down there and eat me out. From here on, it’s a competition boys. Prove you want to be the one to please me.”
My chest flutters.
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. But I press my lips against my father’s balls. His musk leaks into my lungs, and the buzz in my veins gets stronger. My dick is crying out. It’s telling me that it won’t be satisfied unless I’m jerking off from within my old man.
If that means I have to throat the cock that made me, then so be it.
Dad crosses his legs around my chest as I lower my mouth on his shaft. He’s thicker than George. My jaw burns. My eyes water. But he’s somehow easier to take. It’s like each breath of his musk is a hit of poppers. My throat relaxes. Saliva spills out the corners of my mouth. And I swallow.
George buries his tongue between the spread, hairy cheeks. He massages them as his tongue darts in and around Dad’s hole. I watch him work with his eyes closed. The more he attacks Dad’s ass, the more a fire rages in my belly. I swirl my tongue around as best I can. I try to hum against Dad’s dick. I grind my cock against Dad’s chest like the sight might make him hornier and hungrier for me than George. I’ve got that advantage.
But it’s like George doesn’t even care that I’m there. He isn’t watching me. He doesn’t mind how my saliva leaks down over Dad’s ass and slips into his mouth. George isn’t trying to outdo me. He’s just trying to pleasure that hairy fucking hole.
And maybe that’s why he wins.
Dad’s legs tighten around me. He grunts. And with Dad’s cock halfway down my throat, I watch as George’s face sinks into Dad’s ass.
The twink makes a noise of semi-surprise. For a second, he pushes against Dad’s cheeks like he’s trying to pull himself back out. Either he gives up or it doesn’t work. The moment he relaxes, the rest of his head is hoovered up.
Dad’s cock pulses in my mouth. He moans. “Fuuuuck, baby,” he moans. “That’s a good fucking slut.”
A thick, hard bulge moves underneath me as George slowly inches his way inside my father’s hole. Once the shoulders slip past the muscular ring, the rest is pretty easy. George is moaning and whimpering.
“Don’t stop sucking, son,” Dad orders.
I don’t want to stop watching. I don’t want to suck him anymore. I want to tear myself off his cock, throw his legs off me, and yank George out of there. It isn’t fair. It should be me disappearing up Dad’s ass. I should be the one whose every movement makes Dad’s guts squelch and gurgle. I should be the bulge traveling up his intestines. I should be the one making him moan.
“Suck my fucking cock,” he says.
And I do as I’m told. I bob my head up and down my dad’s shaft as the twink travels up into that ravenous ass. His arms get pinned to his side. He doesn’t try to grasp at the sheets or anything. George humps the mattress as he’s turned into a meal. His moans are muffled by Dad’s body, but I can still hear them.
“It’s so warm in here,” he groans.
“It’ll get even warmer,” Dad says.
“I’m gonna cum!” George cries
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Dad says, but it’s not like George has much say in the matter.
As George’s waist disappears, he cries out. He squirms more as he unleashes his load. At least, I assume that’s what he’s doing. It’s not like I can see his dick. It’s enveloped by Dad’s ass.
“Dad’s gonna cum soon, Tanner. Swallow every drop like a good boy, okay?”
That’s when George’s legs start moving more. The bulge underneath me moves around more. When George speaks, he doesn’t sound as horny. “That was hot, but can you let me out now?”
“Mm. See, Tanner, here’s the thing about being a pred: A dose of brain melting musk tends to wear off when the other person cums.” Dad’s stomach growls.
With a heavy schlurp, more of George’s legs vanish. When they do, George bucks around some more. “Wrong way!” He tries to laugh it off.
“I’ll let you out,” Dad says. “Once I’m done churning you down into shit.”
“What? No!” George cries out. The bulge starts moving more.
Dad’s gut gets louder, and he gets even harder in my mouth. He pushes me further down on his cock with his legs. He bucks up into my mouth as George starts cursing and begging.
What’s his problem? He’s getting what he wants.
What I want.
I wouldn’t be such a bitch about it if I was the one about to get digested.
“Fuck yeah,” Dad moans. “I fucking love it when they freak out. The calm ones, those are the ones I have to let out because it gets boring. But the panicked ones. Fuck! They feel so good. God, Tanner. Here it comes. Here it fucking cums!”
Dad’s cock swells. A heavy shot slams into the back of my throat. I swallow on instinct, and I keep swallowing as rope after rope flies out. As Dad orgasms, his stomach clenches. His hole yanks George’s legs further inside. By the time Dad’s cock settles down, only George’s feet remain to be swallowed.
Somehow, I manage not to blast my own load all over Dad’s chest.
The legs wrapped around me ease up, and I pull off the dick that made me. “Are you really gonna do it?” I ask. “Churn him up?”
“He’s my dinner,” Dad says. “Would you vomit out that pizza you ate earlier just because it didn’t want to turn into shit? Fuck no. Why should George be any different?”
I roll off Dad. I crawl down the mattress, my head still swimming, my cock begging for release. I shift around until I’m face-to-face with Dad’s asshole, stretched out around George’s ankles. George’s toes clench.
“You want me to let him out?” Dad asks.
I should. I know that. I should grab his feet and pull George to freedom. “You’re not full, are you?” I ask.
Dad laughs. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking prey slut, Tanner. Desperate to become your old man’s dump, aren’t you?”
A whimper spilled out of my lips. “Yes, sir.”
Oh! If I grab George’s feet, then Dad won’t have a choice. When he gives that final swallow, my arms will go in. As long as I don’t let go of George, he’ll have to take us both or let us both go. And he already said George is food. George is getting digested. So if I can just…
As soon as I reach up for the twink’s twitching feet, Dad grunts. My fingers tap against the clenched hole.
He whistles. “Too slow.”
“That’s not fair,” I whine. I dive forward. My tongue laps at the hairy skin. The scent of Dad’s musk rolls through me once more. I shiver and grind against the mattress as I lap at his ass. That’s what George was doing when it opened up and took him. Surely, if I eat him out, he’ll open up. I’ll slip inside. I’ll get to be part of dinner.
I earned this. I was good. I swallowed his load. He has to swallow me. I need it.
Dad laughs. His legs lower until my tongue is just lapping at his taint, his low hanging balls spilling over my nose. “Too bad for you, Tanner. It’s not going to open up for you.”
I pull back. “Why not?”
“I told you on the drive: even if you beg for it, I’m not eating you. You’re my son.”
“That didn’t stop you from cumming in my mouth!”
Dad nods. He hums. “Hm. That’s a good point.” He pats his thrashing gut. “Listen.”
I pull myself up until my face rests against his stomach. George is crying in there. It’s gurgling. It’s hard to make out any words.
“Is that what you want?” Dad asks. “You want my gut to work you over? Bathe you in stomach acids until you break apart and get turned into gay boy soup? Nothing but nutrients for your old man. And then I’ll slurry you through my guts. You’ll get dried out and packed up into tight clumps. And I’ll shit you out in the morning. Is that what you want? You want to be my shit, son?”
I cry out. My cock spits out cum all over the mattress.
My eyes roll into the back of my head. I catch myself before I fall over.
Dad’s grinning at me. “You back to your senses?”
Cumming should chase away the pheromones. That’s what he said.
But…
I rub his gut. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”
“Of course, Tanner. Thanks for accepting it. And hey.”
I look up at him. There’s a dark, hungry look in his eyes. Dad grins with all his teeth. His stomach growls, and he clenches his gut until there’s a horrible, sickening crunch. “I promise that’s in your future, Tanner.”
Right then and there, I should have gathered my things and ran. But maybe the musk was still in my system, because I went right back down and started suckling on my dad’s dick, fingers prodding at his hole like he might eat me then and there.
4
I stir as the world bounces. I blink awake. My head is against Dad’s shoulder as he carries me into the bathroom in our hotel room, all those years of manual labor letting him casually carry a sleeping man around as if I weigh nothing at all. We’re both naked.
“Morning, sport,” he says. He turns around over the toilet and sits down. He hugs me tight against him. “Figured you should get the full picture.”
“I had a weird dream.”
“No, you didn’t. Last night I tanked a twink from Grindr and you were upset he was the one I digested instead of you. You begged me until I promised to eat you.”
I shudder. But I’m too tired to flail. Hell, I’m not strong enough to escape him anyway. Plus… he smells nice. I breathe him in. It calms me. “I’m not… breakfast, am I?”
“No. I just want you to know the whole process. You’ll have time to get used to it. Every room on the trip has a pred toilet for me, made sure of that.” A fart rumbles out of his ass. Dad laughs. “Smell that? That’ll be you in a few weeks.”
My nose wrinkles. I press my face harder against his chest like that’ll block out the rest of it. Water splashes. That must be… He’s finally letting George out.
“Are you going to reform him?” I ask. “I heard… some preds can do that.”
“I could. I do sometimes. But this is a vacation. Why the fuck would I go through all that trouble?”
More splashes. Another fart.
My fingers dig into Dad’s shoulders. “And when… if… you do that… to me? You’ll reform me, right?”
Dad hums. “Of course, buddy. If I eat you while we’re on the road, of course I’ll bring you back. Don’t want to go without my son on our father-son outing.” He lifts my hips and pushes his cock between my cheeks. He lines it up with my hole and shoves me down. I gasp, head shooting off his chest, nose immediately assaulted by the scents of disposal.
Once I quiet down some, he grabs me by the neck. He holds me there as he lets out more of George. A squirt of something – piss, maybe – fills my ass. When the latest release ceases, he grins and says, “But Tanner, I think we both knew the moment you told me you aren’t a pred was the moment you dropped out of college. At the end of this road trip, it’ll be you I’m flushing, baby boy. And I’m going to love every fucking moment of it.”
“You know what happens when you don’t get A’s and B’s”
“Dad… please. It’s my first C.”
“Your older brothers took this punishment like men. It’s a rite of passage for this family.”
You spent the entire night with your arms pinned by your dad’s tree trunk legs, your face buried in his sweaty hairy ass, sniffing his farts. Your older bros came in and busted out laughing. To your horror, your dad offered them a turn with the C-student cushion.
When chatting online it was so easy to get excited. I told this man that if we met I wanted him to force me to worship his big fleshy ass - that I craved the scent of a ripe, musky asshole. And when he asked, "Do you want to sniff my farts?", I immediately agreed and told him that I wanted to take his farts right up my nostrils.
We agreed to meet right away but he added that he had worked construction all day and that he had eaten a big Mexican meal with lots of beans and cheese. "My ass is ripe and my farts are going to be moist and smelly!" I told him that is exactly how I wanted him and he warned me, "Better make sure this is what you want because once I lock your head into my 'fart box', you'll be sniffing my ass all evening.
I was excited but at the same time scared. And when he first sat on my face, the smell of his ass was heavenly - I loved it. But once he started farting it was another matter - the smell was so strong that I thought I might throw up. My body shook and I tried to tell him that I had changed my mind but he just laughed and let rip an even bigger deeper sounding fart directly up my nostrils. "You asked for this pig and there's no turning back."
It was a very long session. Me sniffing farts as he watched tv all evening. And when he was ready for bed he finally got up and released me. He laughed and said again, "That's what you asked for pig!"
I felt disgusted with myself. How did I let this big fat man use my face like that? But on the way home, I couldn't stop thinking about his ass and the sound and smell of his farts... And as soon as I got home, I turned on my laptop and sent him a message asking, "Are you free tomorrow after work?"
Need to play twister with a group of gassy and sweaty men. I can just imagine squeezing into a tight place under a hairy armpit rank with sweat or another man’s bubble butt covered by his thin shorts. I’m shaking as I maneuver myself in place, knowing that if I lose those disgusting men will use me like toilet paper if I topple over. I can imagine the ass above me ripping a loud brassy fart, causing me to tear up and cough, the perpetrator laughing as he wiggles his ass tauntingly. As I reel in from the stink, my arms spasm and I fall on my stomach. Next thing I know the group of men have their shorts off and a smug grin on their faces, their asses squat over my face before they blast off.
James was cocky. He was the best wrestler at his gym and could defeat anyone who took him on. On day, he gets a challenge from someone called “The Atomic Bomb.”
“Ha! What a fucking loser. Who makes up a nickname? This isn’t WWE.” His friend, Nick, shook his head. “Nah man. He got that name after defeating an entire gym of guys in one night. It’s sick. When he beats you.. he uh… he drops atomic bombs on your face.”
James laughed. “That’s disgusting. This guy ain’t doing that to me.”
“Oh I think I am,” a rough, masculine voice said from behind James. It was his challenger, the Atomic Bomb, flanked by four other guys, probably wrestlers from his gym. “You must be the stink bomb.” James laughed at his own joke. “You ready to go, bitch?”
They went to the gym’s ring. “Before we begin,” started the challenger, “let’s make one thing clear.” He eyed James down hard. “When, not if, I win, I am going to sit on your face with my bare ass and fart. For as long as I want. This is your one chance to back out.”
James laughed hysterically. “Dude you’re a fucking freak. I’m gonna wreck you and make you smell MY ass.”
Nick rang the bell and the two squared off. For the first round, James seemed to be in control, really able to keep out of his opponent’s grasp. He was faster and could dodge the bigger man. However, this wouldn’t last.
When James started to get winded, his opponent revealed he’d been playing the young wrestler. With cat-like reflexes, the bigger man grappled James and pinned him in a matter of seconds.
Nick watched his gym’s best wrestler get taken down, and reluctantly counted him out. It was all over before James could even react. “Wha.. no! Fuck no! There’s no way.”
His challenger laughed, patting his gut. “You lost little man. You know what that means.”
“You… you’re not gonna do this to me. Fuck that!” James was grossed out and angry.
“Boys!” The Atomic Bomb’s posse jumped into the ring and quickly subdued the poor wrestler. “No! Let me go!”
Soon, Nick could only see the sweaty singlet on the mat and his best friend being held down by four men and a gigantic ass in his face. He turned to leave, knowing if he tried to save his friend he’d be next. The last thing he heard before he closed the door was a monstrous fart and James screaming what sounded like “nick please help me!” into the sweaty bear ass.
James was cocky. He was the best wrestler at his gym and could defeat anyone who took him on. On day, he gets a challenge from someone called “The Atomic Bomb.”
“Ha! What a fucking loser. Who makes up a nickname? This isn’t WWE.” His friend, Nick, shook his head. “Nah man. He got that name after defeating an entire gym of guys in one night. It’s sick. When he beats you.. he uh… he drops atomic bombs on your face.”
James laughed. “That’s disgusting. This guy ain’t doing that to me.”
“Oh I think I am,” a rough, masculine voice said from behind James. It was his challenger, the Atomic Bomb, flanked by four other guys, probably wrestlers from his gym. “You must be the stink bomb.” James laughed at his own joke. “You ready to go, bitch?”
They went to the gym’s ring. “Before we begin,” started the challenger, “let’s make one thing clear.” He eyed James down hard. “When, not if, I win, I am going to sit on your face with my bare ass and fart. For as long as I want. This is your one chance to back out.”
James laughed hysterically. “Dude you’re a fucking freak. I’m gonna wreck you and make you smell MY ass.”
Nick rang the bell and the two squared off. For the first round, James seemed to be in control, really able to keep out of his opponent’s grasp. He was faster and could dodge the bigger man. However, this wouldn’t last.
When James started to get winded, his opponent revealed he’d been playing the young wrestler. With cat-like reflexes, the bigger man grappled James and pinned him in a matter of seconds.
Nick watched his gym’s best wrestler get taken down, and reluctantly counted him out. It was all over before James could even react. “Wha.. no! Fuck no! There’s no way.”
His challenger laughed, patting his gut. “You lost little man. You know what that means.”
“You… you’re not gonna do this to me. Fuck that!” James was grossed out and angry.
“Boys!” The Atomic Bomb’s posse jumped into the ring and quickly subdued the poor wrestler. “No! Let me go!”
Soon, Nick could only see the sweaty singlet on the mat and his best friend being held down by four men and a gigantic ass in his face. He turned to leave, knowing if he tried to save his friend he’d be next. The last thing he heard before he closed the door was a monstrous fart and James screaming what sounded like “nick please help me!” into the sweaty bear ass.
This story is a fantasy ‘follow-on’ from the Dragonball Z episode ‘Smells like trouble’.
I limbered up in the fighter prep area, getting ready for my match. The underground Martial Arts tournament didn’t have the same prestige as the World Martial Arts tournament, but there was still some money to be made. A solid fighter could make a few thousand Zeni for each match, win or lose. It was a good gig and I was talented enough to win often enough to keep the bookies interested.
Occasionally, I’d find myself going up against competitors who had been eliminated from the WMA in a humiliating way, and were now relegated to trying to recoup their honor down here in the underground tournament. We derisively referred to these fighters as ‘washouts’, and they seldom lasted long. The shame they experience from their failures often leaves their spirits broken and their fighting skills suffer as a result.
Today, I was going to be fighting a Washout. He went by the name ‘Bacterian’ and I knew virtually nothing about him, except that he had been embarrassed by a child competitor called Krillin, who had defeated him and had him thrown out of the WMA. I had been fighting ‘Washouts’ for 5 years now, and I could generally easily defeat them by taking advantage of the Underground Tormanments lack of rules. Strikes to the groin and throat were permitted, and a couple of quick strikes to these vulnerable areas were usually enough to take down an unprepared washout.
The arena this evening was known as ‘The Basement’. It was a small, confined venue, just large enough for the 12’ by 12’ area for the fighters. The audience watched through cameras set into the stone walls, while the fighters entered from two heavy doors on the opposite ends of the cramped space. The venue was deep underground, and was not well ventilated, so it could get hot and stifling down there. But I had fought and trained in ‘The Basement’ on multiple occasions, so I was well prepared for its challenges, or so I thought.
I stepped into the elevator, which would take me down to The Basement, once the doors opened and I stepped out, there was no leaving the arena until one of the combatants was eliminated by being pushed or thrown over the boundaries of the 12’ square. There were no submissions or K.O. victories in the Underground, only crossing the boundary could end a fight. This allowed for greater levels of violence, and eliminated the need for a referee. The raw brutality of an underground fight was what drew the audience, and stimulated the betting.
The elevator ‘dinged’ and the doors slid open, I stepped into the room and walked forward towards the boundary of the arena. The lighting was carefully designed to keep both fighters in darkness until they entered the ring. I could see a dim outline on the other side of the room, Bacterian was clearly a large man, but he looked fat and slow, something I could easily take advantage of.
But what caught my attention more than my opponent was some kind of pungent smell down here. It was foul, but oddly familiar, I couldn’t recognize it though. Did they not clean down here properly after the last fight? The arena floor was spotless though, as were the walls, where could that smell be coming from?
I put the smell out of my mind and focused on preparing myself for the fight, I stepped over the boundary into the light. I was wearing just a pair of white trunks, with my wrestling boots, my lean body showed off for the cameras. At five foot seven and one hundred and eighty three pounds, I was proud of my physique. Then I finally got a look at my opponent…
He was massive, nearly seven feet tall and he must have weighed well over four hundred pounds. His skin was light brown and his dark black hair and beard were a mess of tangles and knots. He wore dark black trunks, with khaki armbands and boots. He was covered with hair, and while he was definitely fat, sporting a big, but solid, belly, his arms and legs were thick with muscle. His hands were massive, big enough to wrap his fingers around my entire head.
And now, standing only ten foot away from this massive beast of a man, I realized that the smell was coming from him! It was overwhelming, the strongest body odor I’d ever smelt. I winced from the stink, but didn’t let it show. He smiled and laughed at me, raising his powerful arms up as he did, ready to charge.
I tensed up my muscles as he came at me, and made ready to pull out the two trick shots that normally took down any washout. As he went to grab me, I threw a jab right at his throat, but his neck was so thick and short, I just glanced my fist off of his chin. I quickly followed up with my other planned attack, a swift kick to the groin.
Bacterian yelped as my foot connected, but I had completely misjudged his size in comparison to mine for a move like this. He fell forwards, crushing me under his massive bulk, pressing all of the air out of my lungs.. His belly pinned me to the ground, his weight so massive, I couldn’t escape. I gasped in a breath after being winded, and almost immediately regretted it.
His powerful musk filled my nose and mouth, and I started gagging immediately. It was like the B.O. of a whole unshowered wrestling team all at once. Bacterian, who had already recovered from my kick to his groin, laughed at my disgust.
“You wanna smell something really bad?” he sniggered at me, and shuffled his position on top of me so that we were face to face.
He lifted his arm and pushed his deep, dank pit right over my face. He was so huge, that I was engulfed in complete darkness, I felt his rancid sweat dripping onto my face. And the smell! Oh god, the smell. My eyes watered from his inhuman B.O. I squirmed and pushed, but I couldn’t move him off of me.
The stink started to make me dizzy, and my struggles weakened as I breathed in lungful after lungful of his sweaty stench. I felt some of his foul liquids trickle into my mouth as I screamed for escape from his nasty underarm.
Suddenly he got off of me, and I gasped as I was free of his crushing weight. Springing to his feet with surprising speed and agility, he stood straddled over me.I knew I should try and roll out and get back on my feet, but the stink of his armpit sweat all over my face made me woozy.
Suddenly his immense hands came down and clamped around my throat, lifting me up by my neck until my legs were dangling two foot off the floor. I scrabbled frantically as he squeezed, but my limbs weren’t long enough to reach him, so I pounded my fists on his forearms uselessly. He laughed again, a deep, demented chuckle that made me terrified.
“Awww. Little man needs a hug.” he sneered at me, and abruptly let go of me.
I fell through the air for a brief fraction of a second, before he caught me in a bearhug, pinning my arms to my sides and squeezing me into his sweaty chest. His massive biceps crushed me, making me yelp out in pain. My face was held inches from his and I felt his chest expand as he inhaled.
Then he unleashed a deep, long belch, his mouth open wide, and my senses were overloaded with a whole new, but equally foul, smell. His breath was unbearable, and the gas he was shooting at me, flecked with droplets of saliva, made me choke and gag. After several seconds, the monstrous burp ended, but he had achieved what he had wanted. Once again, I was dizzy and groggy, his stench was so strong, it acted like a tranquilizer.
He continued to bearhug me, crushing me so tight that I felt like my ribs were going to snap. Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, he hit me with another long belch, making me convulse in disgust. My face now wet from the droplets of spit, he relaxed his crushing grip on me and I slid down to the ground.
He caught me before I collapsed entirely, by grabbing the back of my head with his beefy hand, leaving me resting on my knees in front of him. I realized too late that he had my face right at his crotch height. Before I could react, he shoved my head right into the bulge at the front of his onyx colored trunks.
I felt his thick dick and balls pressing into my nose, and I held my breath for as long as I could, but I had so little stamina left now, I could only manage a couple of seconds. I inhaled the scent of his unwashed trunks, his repulsive dirty balls and his big throbbing cock. It was the worst smell yet, worse than his armpit or his belching. My arms flailed wildly, trying to push myself free of this smelly hell, but my strength was gone, sapped by his toxic odors.
He laughed again, that dark demented guffaw that was going to haunt my dreams.
“You like that smell, little man?” He was clearly enjoying my suffering, “I have something even better for you next.”
He pulled my head out of his crotch and threw me on the ground. I landed on my back and immediately started coughing, trying to get the stink out of my lungs. I saw his shadow pass over me, and screamed in panic as I saw his massive ass come crashing down on me. He landed square on my chest, squashing me and making me yell out as my bruised ribs took another battering.
He shuffled himself backwards, moving into a reverse schoolboy pin. I screamed in terror again as his massive, cloth-covered butt eclipsed my face. I tried to beg before I was lost under his mountain of flesh again.
“Please! No! Not …. Mmmppphhh!” My pleas for mercy were muffled as my face slid into his cavernous crack.
His ass was so huge it swallowed my head but I could still breathe, sucking in tainted air from the space around me. He wriggled around, making sure my head was in as deep as it could go. I felt my nose touch against his hole, even through the cloth of his trunks. (Which smelt foul and unwashed as well.) This was a whole new level of nasty, the sweat and grease from his butt seeped through the fabric and coated my face, the scent of his musk now amplified tens times over. I yelled and moaning into his crack, but my cries seemed to excite him, as he laughed again as he ground my head into his smelly ass.
“Get ready for a surprise!” He said to me, in a sinister voice.
I felt him strain above me, like he was pushing on his belly, and I felt his hole pucker around my nose. Had I been mentally capable at that moment I might have realized what he was doing, but the daze of his stink made me slow. I was totally unprepared for what happened next.
His hole opened up and a blast of hot, fetid air washed over my face, forcing its way into my nostrils, where it burned and seared the inside of me. I could feel it filling my mouth, making me gag and cough. I couldn’t believe that this nasty monster had just farted right on me, and his toxic gas was now the only air I had to breathe.
It was so heinous, so smelly, so disgusting that my body went limp, just totally overwhelmed and shut down by the funky assault of gas. I jerked and twitched under him, as the fart lingered around my face. He continued to grind his ass onto me, his sweat lubricating my face as it slid up and down in his crack.
“We’re going to be here for a long time.” he said from up above, followed by his now familiar laugh.
I panicked as I realized what he meant. Because of the underground rules, this fight wasn’t over until one of us crossed the boundary of the arena. And right now, we were both right in the middle. He had no intention of officially ‘winning’ until he had tortured me for as long as his twisted sadism wanted.
I screamed again, and weakly tried to push his ass off my face, but my efforts were rewarded with another long, slow fart. His toxic stench overpowering me again, I went limp and started to twitch as my smelly torture continued.
“Let’s get you really close to the stink, little man.” Bacterian laughed, as he reached behind himself, and grabbed the back of his trunks.
He lifted up off my face for a few seconds, and pulled his trunks down, revealing his huge, naked butt. The butt sweat dripped off of it and landed in my eyes, and I yelled for mercy again as my face was swallowed again, this time, with nothing between me and his hole.
“Mmmm… Yeah…” He groaned above me, clearly enjoying my cries into his ass, “We’re going to be here for a nice long time…”
Looks like you went straight to his thighs. You’re lucky— not everyone gets to get vored but such a champion ass pred. You’ll play a big role in enhancing his lower body strength, once you’ve been fully digested into muscle. This is your role now, and really always has been. All your life, all of your accomplishments, all of your goals and dreams, ultimately led to your true destiny of being knocked out by Brock’s protein farts and shoved face first into his sweaty ass, which opened wide to pull you all the way in and melt you down into fat and protein. You still live on, in this wrestler’s ass and legs. Be grateful.
Your uncles were cruel bastards. “Pick. Him or me?”
Panicked, you tried to reason with them. “C… Come on. You can’t do this. Jokes over, guys.”
They both belly laugh. “Family tradition, bud. Now pick or it’ll be your big brother, and you know he’d make this absolute hell.”
Whenever a man turned 18 in your family, the next Thanksgiving he’d be hauled off after the older guys got to digesting and, to put it frankly, he would be forced to smell what the meal did to his relative, and if the older guy was feeling particularly cruel, the poor kid would have to eat Thanksgiving all over again.
You sighed, accepting your fate. You chose the uncle on the right, knowing he was always the nicer one. He wouldn’t make you eat it… Right?
Oh boy, how wrong you were. This was a Thanksgiving you would never forget.
Santa sat by the fire in his favourite chair, about to start the second check of the Naughty or Nice list. A formality really, as mistakes were rare and with all the boys and girls being extra good for Christmas, the chance of slipping from Nice to Naughty was extremely low.
As he scrolled through it, he reached a particularly troubling duo. The twins; Bryan and Ryan Miller.
Bryan was the perfect little angel, all year round. His brother, Ryan, on the other hand was a terror. He made it his mission in life to be his brother's biggest bully. He would break his toys, steal his sweets and other acts of cruelty. He was particularly gross in his torture, one of his favourite acts was to take every opportunity to fart on him, especially if he could time it to be in Bryan's face.
Santa tutted, shaking his head. It appeared this year had been no different in the Miller household. Years of giving Bryan what he asked for in his letter, and leaving Ryan only coal had done nothing to teach the lesson. That good girls and boys get presents, and naughty children do not. It was as if for Ryan there was no greater gift than getting to bully his brother.
The boys stopped believing in Santa quite early; Ryan probably never truly believing and willing to assign the coal to his neglectful parents, their pathetic effort to try and change him. Bryan had believed, but as the abuse grew the magic of Christmas lost it's spark. Soon Santa had no power there anymore. Frustrated by his time honoured traditions limiting his influence, he kept an eye on the pair.
--------------------
Years passed and nothing changed as they became adults. Bryan remained good at heart despite the abuse, which only escalated as the pair grew older. But it had taken its toll, he was a lonely and timid man. Ryan stayed rotten to the core, becoming more sadistic as his antics went unchecked.
He used the same bullying tactics to get ahead at work, now he was a top manager. He'd even been able to hire a Personal Assistant, of which he gave the honour to Bryan. Since he had struggled to find work due his shyness, he'd been desperate for anything, which Ryan took full advantage of. Getting 40+ hours a week to fart on his brother, and being paid for it.
In the office on Christmas Eve, as the two readied to finish for the holiday, they were unaware how things were finally about the change.
"It's been great having you work for me this past year, feel like you've been a real asset"
Bbbrrrppp
Ryan let out a fart to emphasize the ass in asset.
A sniffing noise could be heard from under Ryan's desk.
"Do you like working for your brother?"
Bbbrrrrppppppp
*sniff* "Yes, I do, sir. Thank you again for the opportunity "
Ryan let out a final toot before standing up from his desk and releasing his brother who began to crawl out. Ryan reached down and pushed Bryan's face into the seat of his chair so he could enjoy the days scent.
"You're welcome. Now don't forget, even though the office is closed from Boxing Day through New Years, I expect you to come in. I've got some reports I'm behind on so I'll need you to do those for me".
"Of course, sir. I'm happy to do that" Bryan muffled in to the cushion.
"Good boy. Right, I'm off. Make sure you have the farts out of that chair before you go. I'll see you tomorrow at mom and dad's. Don't forget to bring my gifts for them".
"I won't, sir". Not lifting his face from the chair, Bryan called after his brother as he was heading for the door. "Erm, sir, I'm sorry to ask. But...I was told earlier this year I'd be getting a Christmas bonus. I haven't heard anything though"
Ryan smirked, unseen by his brother, and walked back to behind the desk where his downtrodden brother was still dutifully sniffing.
"Oh, hadn't you heard?! I'm sorry to say that the bonuses were cancelled this year. Despite all us managers arguing for them to honoured"
"Oh...I see... That's a shame, I really could have used the money. But, I'm sure you did everything you could".
"I really did, I would appreciate your gratitude for my efforts" and with that Ryan turned his ass to his brother. Bryan, taking the hint, leant forward and kissed his ass.
Pppprrrpppp
For the rest of the night Ryan had been laughing and smirking to himself every time he thought of that moment. His pathetic brother, face down in his chair, believing he'd fought for his bonus. Oh he'd fought alright, he argued that his assistant didnt deserve it, that he missed some key targets and so wasn't viable. Ryan was reminiscing fondly on that brilliant ploy of his as he fell asleep.
In the room there arose such a clatter that Ryan awoke with a start. The room was lit as if by dozens of candles, but none could be seen. But in the room there was a large man. Dressed in a luxurious red velvet suit, with white fur trim and gold buttons. On top of his head a hat of the same cloth. Ryan could see him from his bed, but nothing else, as he was unable to move. As he struggled and writhed, the man in the room just let out a chuckle.
"Oh, hohoho, you won't get out of that"
Ryan lifted his head as much as he could and caught sight of large ribbons wrapped around him, mummifying him.
"Little Ryan Miller, all grown up now. You were always a very naughty boy. You made your brother suffer as children and now as adults. I didn't help when you were young, and I have regretted that,l dearly, so I'm here now to right that wrong".
"Fuck you talking about, you crazy weirdo" Ryan screamed. Thrashing in his constraints. "Bryan, is that you? Is this some ridiculous attempt to stand up to me?"
The man stepped closer and Ryan could see it was not his brother in disguise. His white long beard was real. The man was old, though still fresh faced and rosy cheeked, but his eyes gave away his age. Windows to a tired, ancient soul.
"Noo, Ryan. It's me, Santa, and I'm here to teach you a very important lesson".
Santa moved to the side of the bed. "I thought a fitting punishment would be to give you a taste of your own medicine.
Santa stepped up on to the bed, Ryan caught sight of his large shiny black leather boots. As Santa stood over him, Ryan could see the bulk of the man. His gut stretching the coat. He watched as the man turned around, his trousers pulled tight across his large, fat ass, as if threatening to tear.
Ryan desperately struggled against the bindings as Santa lowered himself down. His ass fully engulfing Ryan's face. His cheeks pooled over the side of Ryan's head, on to the pillows.
Muffled cries came from beneath, Santa just wriggled his ass back and forth until the sound stopped. Lifting himself back up off his victim he looked behind him, Ryan had passed out.
The cold air woke Ryan, chilly wind biting at his nose. He opened his eyes, confused by what was happening. Had that been a dream? No it couldn't have been. He was clearly outside, looking up at the night's sky. He couldn't move still and worse now his head seemed to be in a box or something, he could turn slightly, but only enough before hitting the edge of the window he was looking through. His nose and mouth sticking out in to the air. Where the fuck was he, and where was the crazy man who thought he was Santa? Ryan thought.
Not long passed before he heard footsteps. Crunching of boots on snow.
Then the man's face reappeared, looking down at him.
"Oh good, you're awake now. We did quite a few towns while you were out, I was worried you'd miss out on too much of my punishment".
"LET ME OUT YOU PSYCHOPATH!"
"Now, now, Ryan. Name calling is very naughty behaviour. I told you, I'm here to teach you a lesson". He moved out of view for a second, he climbed up causing Ryan's prison to tilt under his weight.
Santa shuffled in to view again, once more his ass in Ryan's field of view.
"I had the elves work on a special sleigh for me. Which you're in now. This hole you're looking through is in the seat. I'm going to take you with me as I deliver presents. Your face is going to be the perfect cushion"
As Ryan started to cry for help, Santa sat down. His wide rear filling the sleigh seat, his cheeks parting to allow Ryan's nose into his crack. The material of his trousers was soft on Ryan's skin. The warmth was a welcome change from the cold air. But the stench was not.
Santa chuckled to himself, his plan finally being enacted. Sometimes you just had to punish the wicked, he'd learned that too late. He set the reindeers off and spoke calmly. His magic allowed Ryan to hear perfectly despite the whistling wind and the large ass covering his face.
"Shall we begin, Ryan. Don't bother answering, I can't hear you. I'm going to go down this special naughty list I made for you. It lists every misdeed you've done. For each one I read out I'm going to fart in your face. You like doing that to other people don't you, do you find it as funny when you're on the receiving end?"
Pffftt
"There's a taster for you".
The airy fart hit Ryan, he couldn't escape it.
"Now, I know what you're thinking. There's no way I can fart enough to cover everything on the list. Well good news, I'm about to be eating a lot of cookies, mince pies and all the other treats boys and girls leave out for me around the world. Oh and don't get me started on what all that milk does to me! Mrs Claus is going to be thrilled this year to not have to put up with all my gas. Now I have my little sniffer here to take it all" Santa wriggled his ass back and forth. The seat was built well; Santa's weight was held off enough that Ryan wouldn't pass out from suffocation, but it meant his nose would still bury deep. Deeper with each wriggle.
"Right, here we go, let's start with this recent one. You stole your brother's Christmas bonus! Oh naughty naughty"
Pppprrrbbbb
Ryan heard his crime read out and the echoing rip of the fart that followed. He was furious. But all he could think about was the odour. It smelt like boiled sprouts.
"That's it, breath it in, my farts are as rotten as your behaviour. I may be magical but my farts still stink, boy. Remember how you cancelled the office Christmas party so you could make up for the losses from your poor performance"
BBBBPPPTTTT
"This is for making Bryan work next week when he isn't being paid, again to cover your ass"
BBBBBBFFFFFTTTTT
Ryan didn't think he could take much more of this. He was desperate for fresh air, all he could smell was the pungent sweaty ass and then a sudden rush of foul stench, that hissed, boomed and ripped from the hole millimetres from his nose.
Suddenly cold air rushed and the darkness was replaced with pale light as Santa stood up to deliver his next present.
"Please" Ryan pleaded. "Please, no more"
"Oh, Ryan, you haven't learned your lesson yet, you just don't want to accept your punishment. Now shush". Magically a bauble gagged his mouth, preventing him saying anything more.
"I don't want you making noise and waking the children", and off Santa went to make the delivery.
Before long Ryan was back under the warmth of his ass. As they were now in a large town the stops were frequent, so he got more air breaks between farts. But Santa had chosen particularly heinous crimes of his to justify particularly bad farts. They started to smell like spoilt milk.
"Remember when you threw you brothers college acceptance letter in the bin and told him they rejected him, all so you didn't lose your punching bag"
Ppppprrrrrrrrbbbbbbbb
'"That time you slept with the girl he liked..
Bbbpptt
In his bed!"
Ppppbbbbfffttt
The night passed on. As Santa read his list he let fart after fart out on Ryan's face. The smell changed with each country's food offering, but it was always vile.
”You sold his puppy and told your parents he let it escape"
Bbbbrrrrbbppp
"In front of all his friends at your birthday party you made him eat cake you'd farted on"
Pppbbtt prrrrbbbb
"The next time he made a friend and invited him over, you stuffed the kids head in the toilet, and he never spoke to Bryan again!"
Pprrrrppp
The ball gag was aching Ryan's jaw. His nose was sore from being crushed up against the hole for so long as Santa had truly mastered wriggling it deep up in there.
His body ached from lying still in the small prison. He thought hard about each and every act Santa read out, trying to find an shred of remorse within himself. Maybe if he could convince Santa he was sorry he'd end this. But it just wasn't there. He was better than everyone. His brother was pathetic. He fucking loved having him as his bitch. Each fart Santa unleashed just made him angrier, and he started plotting what he'd do to Bryan when he was free.
More time passed, a blink of the eye for the world but hours for Santa and Ryan.
At the next and final stop, Santa sighed. Shuffled over he looked down at Ryan through the hole. His face sad.
"Oh Ryan, this isn't working is it. I know. I see you when you're sleeping and I know when you're awake. Do you think I can't tell what you're thinking" he showed Ryan the list he'd been reading off. "Every time you plan revenge on Bryan it appears on the list as a potential. I dont think this is going to work out the way I hoped".
Ryan did his best to try and hide the smug satisfaction he was feeling. At least this the old fat man knew he'd been beat, and would take him home.
"But I can't let you go. I didn't help Bryan before, but I can help him now. You've been a great sniffer for me tonight. I've not smelt any of those farts. Not holding them in means for the first time in decades I'm not feeling all bloated, makes it much easier to get down those chimneys. No, I'm sorry. But if I can't let you go for risk you'll hurt the innocent, you'll have to stay with me. My naughty little fart sniffer. Maybe in time poems will be written, songs sung and books wrote that tell the cautionary tale of what happens to the naughty children if they don't learn to be good before they grow up"
Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"You'll come to the North Pole with me now, I'll use my time magic to freeze you until the next Christmas, and we'll go again. Maybe one day you'll learn the lesson, I guess that's up to you".
With another sigh, Santa slid back over Ryan's face. Covering it one more time. Letting out the odd fart, only this time Santa didn't bother to read from his crime list, it wasn't needed now. He was just here to sniff farts.
Santa stopped projecting his voice to Ryan, leaving him to the rattling of the sleigh and constant echoing of his farts. Taking the reigns he urged on the reindeer.
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!...AND SNIFFER!"
Season 1: Dirtyaussiedom - One of my favs of all time and I think it's my most liked post
Season 2: Relentless Jake(Jakipz) - I'm never not gonna love Jake, and it was fun to create the idea of Jim hunting you through the house before using you.
Season 3: Major Bombardment (Major Bombs), Harness of Hell (Bryan Graham), Roped Relaxation (Rope Bound). Had to do top 3 for season 3, it was definitely the best season yet. @majorbombs was a treat to collab with and write for, Bryan Graham allowed me to go to town with his harness, and RopeBound helped me expand the bondage side of the blog.
It has been brought to my attention by a follower that my Wonho Mega post was stolen by an account on Twitter, which is promoting their $20 per month subscription using it. Not only did they not give credit, but they only posted 4/5 lines for free, saying the rest is EXCLUSIVELY on their website.
Upon seeing this I decided to DM them on Twitter, acting as though I was interested in the post to see if they'd shout out the blog, or take the credit for writing it. Not only did they not admit to taking it from my blog, but they even said it was written by a TEAM 😭😭
I rarely find it necessary to call out other accounts and creators. However, I would appreciate it if you could all report this account:) They have taken content from many other creators also.
I am also leaving my own tipjar link in this post for those who'd like to support me directly. Again, this is not necessary, and all my content is free. This is just a way to support me and get early teases for upcoming content on the schedule.
Support DualityFSD On Ko-fi. Ko-fi lets you support the people and causes you love with small donations
*Update: Huge thank you for getting me to 1750 Followers!! That's 250 new followers since the Summer Of Stink content started*
First of all, a big thanks to everyone for tuning in for my first ever 'Summer Of Stink'. I wanted this to be a fun period over summer where everyone could read, imagine, dream, and maybe even get off while enjoying their kinks in a variety of scenarios and stories. I hope it's been enjoyable for all of you as I've pumped out roughly 40 posts in the last 11 weeks. I've loved all the DMs and asks over the summer, and you are all free to DM or comment to discuss your favorites. Below is my current plans for content this year, after I take roughly a 3/4 week break from posting.
Teen Wolf: A gift from a god
The 'Teen Wolf: A gift from a god' storyline will take priority for writing over September and October as it began first. Currently, Scott is on a mission to take control of the others using his evil nogitsune enhancements. Derek, the only formidable opponent to Scott, has been captured and is locked in his basement, forced to sniff Liams paralysing farts (The medusa). The remainder of this storyline should be 4-6 parts as I follow the destruction of the pack and how Scott (Nogitsune Scott) uses and abuses all the boys with kinky dominance.
Rockwell High:
Rockwell High is in a break period after the popular 'Doms of Rockwell High' series that helped spur Minho and Paxton into new main characters for the next storyline. For now, my plan is for it to be focused on Coach O'Briens downfall and eventual departure from Rockwell High after he has a dominant storyline with many hot scenes. However, this may change by the time I get around to writing it. Mark and Carter are now at college, and instead of doing a fully fleshed out storyline, I'm think of doing stand-alone scenarios with a little story sprinkled in.
The Corporate Stink
'The Corporate Stink' will also be concluded in the coming months, with 3 more chapters planned. The reveal of who is trying to take down Kai and why he is connected to Coach O'Brien will be potentially mind-blowing. On top of that, i plan for some of my hottest domination techniques yet to be included as i fully utilize Kenji, Kai, and the rest of the inner circle. So far, Kai will for sure get more posts beyond this series, Kenji will stick around aswell, and Sergent Kim will be sprinkled in every so often.
Other content:
'Dom Qoutes' will return for a third season. This time around, I have secured three new doms to the cast, one of which is @majorbombs. Returning favorites include, Jake, aussiedom, nathanwyld, and others. This will fill a void in content as you all wait for series posts. I also have a collab in the early stages of planning with a fellow writer on here that im excited to write in the coming months. For now, this is all the other content I have planned.
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
amandla
ellievsbear
gummygunk
gracieabrams
