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GrossOlympics (Part 1/2)

{ A frat has an interesting tradition for which they need a judge. Fortunately Nick, the brother of one of the frat members is available for the position, as he wants to join the frat but missed the official deadline for pledging. }

— The story ended quite long, so I chopped it in two parts, and will post the second once I finish editing it. —

hornyraunchstories

A sticky Situation (Extra)

{ Jordie Remains stuck to his brother’s Tyler’s ass, but Tyler too has needs, and he one of those is that he really needs to use the Toilet } ………

7kbuttcheeks2

The Human Chair

Warning; LONG (~8.5K words) and not including a "keep reading" link in case this blog goes down some day :/

An old story of mine that's floating around here on tumblr already but hosted on one of my blogs that got deleted, here it is again in case & to find it easier;

John was sitting at his armchair in his living room, thinking for a long while. Would it work well? He thought it would. He looked up at the clock and saw the time. It was a quarter to 3. If the guy who emailed him was serious about this, he would be getting off the train at 3:15. John got up, grabbed his coat, and left his house.

The train pulled into the station. People got out. John sat in his car, waiting for the guy who had reached out to him. He stepped off the train, just as he said he would. He was short, a scrawny nerdy looking guy with blond hair and glasses, not too shabby an outfit. Sweater over a shirt and khakis. He was probably a tech guy. He was scanning the parking lot for John’s car, and when he saw it, he paused. Maybe he was second guessing? Whatever nerves had caused him to pause, he dropped them and walked toward John’s car, a slight tremble in his steps. In that moment, John felt the urge to fart. He held it in. John’s cock was hard in his pants.

“Ben?” He rolled down the window.

“Yeah, John?” He gulped.

“Come in.”

He got into the car and buckled his seatbelt, “Thanks for picking me up,”

“Yeah of course. Besides, no offense, but I don’t give my address out to people who might flake.” He turned out of the parking lot, “You still want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Ben was smiling wide. He thought John looked even hotter in person; rugged black hair and scruff, a strong physique…he had seen naked pictures and knew he was hairy under those clothes.

“Good. Do you want lunch or anything?” John gave out a little laugh, “Will probably be your last good meal for a while,”

“No it’s ok, I ate before I got on the train,” Ben was shaking now. John grimaced. He didn’t want to bring this stranger to his house if he started having doubts and backing out. But there was not much he could do. In the email, he was clear that Ben was allowed to say no at any point before they start. After they started, Ben would have no choice. That part turned Ben on, he’d said.

They reached his house. It was an ordinary single story house. It didn’t stand out from the others in the neighborhood. It had a chimney, but John didn’t use the fireplace for years.

“You know, I’m still surprised that you found my ad,” John said as they got out of the car. “I thought that site would have taken it down by now.”

“Nope, it’s, uh, still up.” Ben had gone quiet in the car. John could tell he was nervous. Once they got into the house, Ben asked “Ok so, where is it?”

John smiled again. Maybe the nerves were because of excitement. “Follow me.”

He brought him into the living room. It was relatively small. His armchair was against one wall. The couch was against the other. Three large windows looked into the back yard. Across from the armchair was the TV. John gestured toward the armchair, “Here it is, just like I told you.”

Ben was trembling a lot now, and he looked at the chair, his eyes glued to the seat. “It really works the way you said, in the email?” His voice was faint.

“Yep. I’ll go over just to be clear,” With a grunt, he pulled the chair away from the wall. Ben couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It was exactly as it was in the pictures. The same pictures he had been jerking off to for the past week.

It was a large square hole in the wall. John had explained that it was where the fireplace used to be, but he didn’t want to pay extra for gas so he had it removed. Instead of patching up the wall, he left the hole. He’d also done a lot of DIY. He expanded the back of the wall, which took some space out of his bedroom closet but he didn’t mind that. He built a small drain that went down into the house’s sewage pipes. Just above that was a long board with wheels, what resembles a hospital gurnee. There were straps around it. There was also a hole in the middle of the board.

“Alright,” John sighed, his arms on his waist, “So…to recap. You’ll lay down here. I’ll strap your arms, ankles, legs, and chest in so you can’t move. You’ll be naked and your ass will go in that hole. I’ll put a funnel system around your dick and under your ass. That way, you don’t have to come out for the restroom or anything, you can just go into that hole. Kind of gross but it takes care of that problem at least.”

Ben gulped, “Ok,”

“You’ll be completely strapped and so, won’t move around. Then, I”ll put the chair over you. As I showed you,” He gestured toward the back of the chair, the bottom of it was hollowed out, “I fixed this old armchair up so that the cushion has a rim-chair built into it. When I put the chair back in place, I will turn the knobs on the gurnee and it will lift you up so that your face is at the seat level. See?” He unveiled the top of the seat, which looked like a normal cushion at first but turned out to be a thin fabric hiding the rim-chair. “Your face will be in that hole. And…uh, yeah that’s it. I’ll sit on your face as long as I want.”

Ben’s heart was pounding. John continued, “This fabric is in case I have friends over. Which I will, tomorrow night. I invited some buddies to come watch the game. Don’t worry, none of them will be sitting in this seat. Your face belongs to my ass only,” He smiled wide, “Just as I said in my emails, when you are my chair, you have no rights. You cannot say you want out at any time. If I need to fart, I’m farting up your nose. If I want my hole licked, I’ll sit on you naked and that will be your only cue. The only time you matter is when I ask if you are hungry or thirsty, and I’ll give you food and water. Otherwise, you don’t give me instructions. I’m not interested in conversation, because I don’t talk to chairs. If you are uncomfortable and want me to loosen the straps, too bad. If you’re sick of my farts, too bad. As we agreed, you belong to me for the next 48 hours. There are no safe words. If you want out now, I’ll take you back home. But the minute I put you in the wall is the minute you belong to me. If at any point in the next 48 hours you want to stop, and go home…too bad. My ass is your home until the weekend’s over. Do you understand?”

Ben’s face was white. He’d been jerking off to this kind of fantasy for so long, and when he found John’s ad online, he couldn’t contain his excitement. But now that he was in the house, he was terrified. It was too real for him. What if he hated it? What if in the very first minute he hates it after all? He’d never done something like this before. He’d never actually been smothered under a man’s ass, he’d never sniffed farts, never done anything kinky like this. If it turns out he doesn’t like it…he’ll be stuck as a human chair for two days.

“Do you understand?” John was deliberate.

“Yes sir,” Ben gulped, “I…I’m sorry this is just so hardcore…I’ve heard of people doing these things but I haven’t really done BDSM stuff with anyone,”

“Do you want to call it quits?” John asked again. “I won’t be mad.” That wasn’t entirely true. He would be annoyed and disappointed if the only person who responded to his ad decided to say no at the literal last minute. He’d been dying to try out his new toy for months. But he was still a good guy. He wouldn’t pressure anyone into doing it. In the emails, Ben seemed very excited. Maybe he was more in love with the idea of being a human chair than actually doing it. John would cut him slack since he has never dipped into bondage play before.

And Ben was nervous. He stared at the hole for a long time. The silence was more awkward with each passing second. Finally he took a deep breath, “No, I…I’m ready.”

“Ok. Take off your clothes.”

Ben stripped. As he undressed, his face was flushed. John seemed like a nice guy over their email conversation. But how could he put so much trust in a stranger on the internet? The only solace that Ben had was knowing that in these last few moments before they started, he was in complete control. At any second he could say “Nope” and go back home. But that window of time was getting smaller and smaller. John had pulled the gurnee out from the hole in the wall. There were seven straps. Two for each ankle, two for each wrist, one for his thighs, one for his chest, and one for the neck. There was a little padded indent at the front where his head would rest, two little rounded poles came up on either side. He didn’t know what they were for.

“Alright, if you are ready, lay down on your back.”

Ben stood in the living room naked. His cock had gone hard and was throbbing. He knew that once he was strapped in, he wouldn’t be able to touch himself at all for the whole weekend. That was part of the fun.

“And I’ll take your glasses for you,” He said. Ben took them off and handed them over. John asked, “can you see at all without these?”

“A little,” he shrugged, blinking, “I can’t see far away.”

“Ok. Not that it matters, you won’t be looking at anything but my asshole.” He picked up Ben’s clothes and put them on the table.

Ben sat down on the gurnee and got into position. Laying down, his ass was over the hole. When he had to go, he would just relieve himself into the tube that John would set up. That was the worst part, to him in the moment, thinking how disgusting and unhygienic it was. But he wouldn't have another choice. John had suggested wearing an adult diaper, but that sounded even worse.

Ben tightened the straps around his ankles. Then he tightened the strap over his thighs. Then, around his wrists. Ben’s heart was beating too fast. He tried to control his breathing. John tightened the strap over his chest. Almost as a reflex, Ben jerked his body a bit but he couldn’t move at all. Delicately, John guided Ben’s head down on the padding, and carefully wrapped the strap around his neck and tightened it just enough to keep him from moving his head up. Ben gulped, he felt the strap. He could still breathe fine at least. John moved over to fit a large tube over Ben’s dick, and pointed the other end of it down the hole in the gurnee between Ben’s legs. He set up a similar tube under Ben’s ass. Then, John turned some knob near Ben’s head, and the two poles on either side came together and pressed into his temples just above his ears. They weren’t tight, but they were set in place so Ben couldn’t turn his face to the side. He was completely immobile.

“Alright. This is your last chance,” John stood over him, his crotch was at the level of Ben’s face. From here, Ben saw John at a glorious angle. He looked so tall, buff, powerful, a dominant man. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

Ben nodded as much as the poles and straps allowed him to, “Yes sir. I…I need to be your chair. It’s my destiny” Ben’s cock was throbbing against his belly.

John smiled widely. His crotch was bulging. He had been horny since they started talking online. “You have no idea how much I’m going to love this. This has been my fantasy for years but I couldn’t find guys who were into it. You’ll be my first chair. You should be honored.”

Ben gulped, his face was burning red, “I…I’m very honored sir. I hope I serve you well.”

“You only have three jobs once you’re in there,” John said, “First, sniff all of my farts. I don’t want to smell a single one. Second, eat out my asshole whenever I’m naked. Third, don’t talk unless you are asking for food and water.”

“…ok,” Ben’s voice had gone weak. He was starting to feel dread now. Excited and horny, but also dreading if he’d made the wrong choice. But it was too late to say anything. He had to go through with it. As he said, this weekend is his destiny now.

It was settled. John slowly pushed the gurnee into the old fireplace, lining it up right. He had sealed off the chimney long ago, so it wouldn’t be cold in there. Ben’s body was completely hidden in the wall. Only his head and shoulders were sticking out, held down on the gurnee. Using his feet, John kicked down the wheel stops so that the gurnee couldn’t move if Ben shook around. John then pushed the chair back in place against the wall. Then, he got on his knees and stuck his hand under the chair. He found another knob and twisted it a few times to lift the gurnee up. As promised, Ben’s nose peaked through the hole in the seat. John stood up, and saw through the built-in rim seat, Ben’s face was the only part of him exposed. John grabbed the fabric from earlier and reminded him, “This is only to cover you for when my friends are here tomorrow. Don’t worry, they won’t see you. But it is thin enough that my ass will mold over your face and you will still get to smell everything.”

“Um, John,” Ben was shivering, “can we…or, ok, wait, pause, can we just do this for maybe half an hour at first, just to test it so I can see what it’s like before we do the full two days,”

John burst out laughing. It sounded evil in the moment. Ben’s face went white this time, the same dread creeped back. John said “I just told you minutes ago that don’t have conversations with chairs. No normal person speaks to a chair. But since you’re new to this I’ll let it slide. Your time for negotiation is over. If you wanted to only do half an hour, you should have said so in the email. But nooo…you’re pathetic little dick was throbbing when I said 48 hours. Remember you told me that? Throbbing. You loved the time we picked. So I’m sticking with it. It is,” he looked at the clock, “4pm Friday. Meaning that you will be here until 4pm Sunday afternoon. And now I’m done talking to you.” He sighed. Ben was whimpering. He was afraid he’d made a terrible mistake.

“I have been holding this fart in since I picked you up from the train,” John smiled again, “And you’re going to vacuum suck it out of my jeans.” he turned around. His ass looked huge from this angle, and he slowly lowered it over Ben’s face. The cushion supported his butt cheeks, and lightly spread them in his pants. They molded over Ben’s face. John shifted around until he felt the tip of Ben’s nose wedge up against his asshole. Now John was shaking. His cock was hard. He gripped the armrests of the chair and pushed.

PPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The fart came out much louder than he thought it would be. It vibrated deep into the chair. He burst out laughing. He felt Ben cry out into his ass, and he heard the gurnee wheels squeak. He was buckling around down there, making the gurnee shake a bit, but John knew it wouldn’t move. And he knew that there was nothing Ben could do to get his face out from his ass. The straps and post made it so he had no choice but to keep his head up, and if John wanted to fart directly into his nostrils, he could. And definitely would.

“Again, I’ll be nice since you’re new to this,” John cleared his throat, “You can’t be making any noise down there. The next 24 hours will be great practice for you to suck in my farts without freaking out and screaming.”

He felt Ben settle down, and felt him sniff and cough into his ass cheeks. John said, “Ok and also you really need to not cough or gag or anything. Anyway, now we can start for real.”

And with that, John stopped talking. Because why would he talk to a chair? He flipped on the TV and watched an old sitcom rerun. He felt a silent but deadly fart seep out and warm his butt. He shivered in delight, feeling extra comfortable in his new chair. If anyone else lived in the house with him, walking by they would just see John sitting in his favorite chair watching TV, and not think twice.

…

The next couple hours were uneventful. The sun set and it got dark in the house quick. John had some lights on and was still watching the show. At one point he got up to grab a bag of chips. As he stood up, he heard his chair coughing and sucking in fresh air. John laughed. In the kitchen he poured some chips into a bowl. Then he walked right back to the living room and sat down. Obedient so far. He didn’t have that much gas. Just a few short, quiet farts whispered out of his ass. They must have stunk pretty badly because each time, he felt muffled coughing against his butt cheeks, and heard the gurnee shake a bit. John had a huge smile on his face, and he was hard the whole time.

At around 7pm he turned off the TV, got up, and went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Nothing special. Leftover beef tacos. Even though it wasn’t healthy for him, he heated it up with a heaping handful of pre-shredded cheese. His grin was so wide. He’d mentioned in earlier emails that he was lactose intolerant, and that he would purposefully eat dairy so that he had more frequent and more foul smelling gas. In Ben’s reply, he said “my cock is drooling at the thought”. So, why not stick to his word? He’ll feel gross for the rest of the night, but at least John wouldn’t have to smell any of his own farts. He quietly ate his tacos in the kitchen, texting his friends about what beer he should get for the party tomorrow.

Closer to 8pm, he came back to the living room. He wanted so badly to look down at his chair again, but part of the fun was not acknowledging Ben as a person. He had to treat the chair like he would treat any other chair; with apathy, and disinterest. He sat back down, shifting a bit and feeling his cheeks separate so that Ben’s face wedged into his ass again. He puckered his hole to make sure that it was right over his nose.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have put cheese in those tacos” he pretended he was talking to himself, “My ass is gonna be ripping up a storm tonight.”

He sat back and turned the TV on again. This time he watched the next episode of his favorite cop drama.

His guts gurgled. His dick got hard. He knew that his chair had heard the gurgling too. John could feel his face scrunch up, embracing for impact. He grunted,

PRPRRRRRT

A wet sounding fart sputtered out of his ass. John sighed. He felt the chair sniff, and then it made a violent gagging noise. Again, he felt the chair shake a little as Ben’s body jerked as a reflex. John held back laughter. His own lactose farts made him feel queasy. He couldn’t imagine how unbearable they had to be injected right up the nose. He looked at the clock. Only 45 more hours to go.

At 9pm he got up, and to his surprise, the chair spoke,

“John can we do a time out,”

“Huh?” He looked around, pretending that he was alone, “That’s funny, I could have sworn I heard someone speak even though there’s no other human in the house,”

“John I’m serious,” the chair pleaded, “Your farts stink really fucking bad, I need a break,”

John grit his teeth, and said, “Ok, quicktime out. Yeah, of course they stink. They’re farts. Not rose perfume. Second, you don’t get breaks, remember? You are my chair.”

“Yeah,” Ben’s voice was faint, defeated. They’d already talked about this at length over email, but it wasn’t until that moment that Ben had internalized the reality of it.

“Now, I’ve been way too nice to you so far,” John continued, “So if you speak without permission again, I’m not going to be nice. Ok?”

The chair didn’t say anything.

“Good chair.” John nodded. “You hungry?”

“Yes sir.”

John went into the kitchen to make food. Ben stared up at the ceiling, his whole body trembling. This was really happening. He couldn’t stand John’s noxious farts. Each one made him feel sick to his stomach. But he had no choice. Just as he promised, he was completely at the mercy of John’s ass. In the dark hole in the wall, a pearl of precum dripped out of Ben’s cock.

John came back with bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. The smell of tacos when John got up earlier had made his stomach growl, and he wished he would have gotten more food than this. But he couldn’t complain. John had to spoon feed him the soup, and he tore the sandwich into small bites to drop into his mouth. Didn’t want to get the rest of the chair dirty. He then let Ben gulp down a glass of water.

Without asking if he was satisfied, John sat right back down in the chair. He had a devilish smile on his face, because he had been holding in more gas since he got up.

PRRPTRTTTTTTTTT

The fart sounded like it came from deep in his bowls. Again, he felt the chair jerking around under him. He continued to watch TV.

Close to 10pm, John turned the TV off and got up. He went into the bathroom, got undressed, and turned on the shower. He stood outside, waiting for the water to get hot. His body was covered in black hair, especially on his arms, legs, and ass cheeks. He got into the shower and started to shampoo his hair. He rinsed, put in some conditioner, and lathered his hands in body wash. He kept his ass sticking out of the shower curtain. He didn’t want a single drop of water to touch it. Why wash your ass in the shower when you had a chair with a built in asshole cleaner? Out of curiosity, he did two things. First, he brought his ass back into the shower, still away from the water, and ripped a fart. It echoed off the tiles. He sniffed the air. It was like old cheese in rotting egg salad. The stink actually made him gag. He started laughing. That was what he would be feeding his chair for the next few days. His cock was hard, but he decided to wait to take care of it.

The second thing he did, after he dried himself off, was to rub his index finger in his ass crack, then bring it up to his nose to smell. Not atrocious, but not…good. It’s a man’s ass at the end of the day, of course it wouldn’t smell good. Again he shivered. He washed his hands, then he brushed his teeth. He went into his room, still naked, and grabbed a blanket. Then he walked back to the living room.

His cock had gone down a bit, but it was at half mast when he reached the chair. Briefly, he looked into Ben’s eyes, before turning around and sitting down. Now he felt the skin of his face wedge into his ass crack. Luckily he didn’t have to repeat the rule about nudity, because the chair remembered to start licking. John draped the blanket over himself, and opened a book he had left on the table.

For the next few hours, John was in ecstasy. It was so warm and comfortable. He loved the feeling of being fresh out of the shower, comfy and naked in a blanket, curled up with a good book, and feeling a hot moist tongue work his asshole. It was hard for him to focus on the book, because, despite how much he wanted to dehumanize and ignore him, Ben was the only thing on John’s mind. He thought that at any moment, he could easily fart into his mouth. But it was still day one, John thought he’d give him a bit more time to get used to these arrangements before he pushed the boundaries. The devil on his shoulder was excited. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow, when he would get to hear his chair gagging on the fart he’ll rip down its throat.

As the hours passed, the tongue was moving slower and slower. There were a few minutes where it stopped completely. John would clear his throat, and a moment later it would start back up again. He looked at the clock. It was nearing 1am.

8 hours had passed. Another 40 to go. John wished he could just fall asleep in his chair, and force Ben to endure his night farts. His dick was hard at the idea of him being fast asleep, and his unconscious body letting out a disgusting fart right up Ben’s nose. So badly, he wanted to sleep on top of Ben, keeping Ben from sleeping and forcing him to be conscious with his putrid asshole over his nose. But unfortunately, John couldn’t fall asleep in a chair. He had to lay down. So, he put the bookmark in his book, set it aside, tossed the blanket off of him, and got up to go to bed. He stood up a bit, his ass hovering just over the chair. Instead of saying goodnight, he grabbed his ass cheeks, spread them, and pushed,

PPRRPRPRPRRRRRR

Yet another obnoxiously disgusting fart burst out of his ass. This time, he got to hear the chair’s coughing and gagging without being muffled. He didn’t turn to look. He turned off the light and left the room.

In bed, John had lotioned his cock and was masturbating to the memories of the day. He was kicking himself for not modifying the couch instead. If he’d modified the couch, then he could have the option to sleep with his ass over Ben’s face. Ribbons of cum draped his body. He wiped it off with a rag and fell asleep.

…

At 7am, John’s alarm went off. He yawned, stretched, refreshed for a new day. He got out of bed and threw on tight athletic underwear that helped him breathe down there, grey jogging shorts, and a tight purple running shirt. He put on black socks, and his running shoes.

Walking through the house, he passed the living room on the way to the kitchen. His chair was silent. He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, grabbed his iPod, and left his house.

Even though it was a cool morning, he sweat a lot during his run. He jogged three miles every morning. His stomach wasn’t feeling good. Still upset from the cheese the night before. But that was a problem for his chair to deal with.

It was closer to 8am when he got back to the house, his back, armpits, crotch, feet, and ass were all sweating. He finished his water and came into the house, where he took off his shoes, and, with a smirk, dropped his jogging shorts. His underwear had dark patches of sweat around his ass crack and crotch. He walked straight to the living room, ready to relax in his chair.

Briefly looking at the face in the hole, he noticed bags under his eyes. He thought about asking Ben if he slept well, but remembered that it would be weird for a guy to talk to a chair. Ben hadn’t slept well at all. He never was able to sleep on his back, and hours of the straps digging into his skin made him itchy, and the inability to move made him claustrophobic. He briefly slept for a few minutes at a time, dozing off then waking up again, unable to fall into a deep sleep.

John twisted around and sat on the chair. His tight underwear held in the moisture of his ass crack sweat up against the nose. John leaned forward, scrolling through social media on his phone. He slowly let out a thick and silent fart. It made his swamp ass heat up, and again he heard and felt retching under him. John’s cock tightened.

After a half an hour of aimlessly looking at sensationalized news, John got up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He scrambled some eggs and put them in an english muffin sandwich, each with a slice of ham and muenster cheese. He figured the combination of eggs and cheese would make a wonderful cocktail of gas for his chair to enjoy later.

He went to the living room and asked, “Hungry?”

“Yes sir,” the chair’s voice croaked, sounding depressed.

John went back to the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back with some buttered toast, a cup of greek yogurt, and a banana cut in slices. Feeding was the only time he treated Ben like a person. John looked down at him with a kind smile.

After giving him a glass of water to drink, the chair said, “…I’m sorry John but I feel so stiff. Can you let me out?”

John’s smile disappeared.

“Just five minutes and I’ll get right back in,” the voice was shrill, “Please, I gotta stretch man, this hurts,”

John didn’t say anything. He set the glass down, stood up, and left the room. Ben’s eyes frantically shifted, but he shouldn’t move his head to see anything beyond the ceiling. He heard John’s footsteps come back, and then, to Ben’s surprise, he felt the gurnee lower. He was going to let him out!

“Thank you so much sir,” he smiled, “I promise I won’t complain again for the rest of the weekend,”

John moved the chair out of the way. But instead of pulling the gurnee out of the wall, he stood over Ben and twisted his ear. Ben cried out in pain, his face scrunching up and his mouth wide open. Just what John wanted. John quickly shoved something into Ben’s mouth, and quickly wrapped a strap around the back of his head, keeping it secure around his mouth. Ben couldn’t see it, but he could feel it prying his lips open. He couldn’t close his mouth if he wanted to. He moaned out, frantic. What was going on?

John ignored his cries, and he brought the chair back over him. Then, he reset the gurnee to lift him back up to seat level. Just like before, except this time his mouth was being held open with a spider gag.

The chair continued to moan in fear as John went into the kitchen and pulled out a half pint of chocolate milk. He chugged half of it, then carried it into the living room. He stood over the chair so it could see clearly what he was holding. It’s eyes were wide with fear. It moaned out, unable to make words but the pattern was clear, “No, no, no, no,”

“I told you I would stop being nice if you didn’t keep silent,” John closed his eyes, setting the milk jug down. “Now, you must be punished.”

He turned around, peeled his underwear off his sweaty ass cheeks, pulled them apart, and sat down on the chair.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The chair screamed up John’s ass. John smirked. That had to taste bad. It would take another hour for the milk to do havoc on his system, so he would just have to wait until the real punishment started. John turned on the TV and relaxed.

…

At 11:30, John finally stood up. He looked down at Ben’s face, which was wet with tears, and his eyes were burning red. Despite how horrible the past three hours had been for him, he at least managed to swallow every single fart.

Without speaking, John lowered the gurnee, moved the chair, and then removed the spider gag. The chair didn’t speak. Just like a good chair should act. He then put everything back in place.

John hoped that Ben finally understood what ‘you have no rights” means, and "you belong to me for the next 48 hours”. He looked at the clock and did a quick calculation. 20 hours in, only 28 more to go.

He went into his bedroom and changed into jeans and a plain sweater. Grabbed his coat, wallet, and keys, then left the house. He drove to the grocery store. It was busy around lunch time. He picked up snacks for tonight’s game. Buffalo chicken wings with blue cheese dipping sauce. Nachos. Mozzarella sticks. John grimaced. The milk he drank earlier was making him feel bloated and queasy. As bad as he felt, at least he didn’t have to experience dozens of his lactose farts directly on his tongue. He shuddered at the thought. Even so, he felt reluctant to get all of these cheese products. He shrugged. He always took one for the team. If his friends were over, he’d treat them to all kinds of unhealthy cheese covered snacks. And again, it isn’t as if any of them would have to smell his farts. That was the chair’s job.

He bought a case of generic beer. Then, he decided for himself to grab a six pack of stouts. These heavy dark beers made his ass bloated at night. Since it’s day two, he should bring out the big guns and make full use of his fart-vacuuming chair.

When he got back home, it was a little after 1pm. While he was gone, Ben managed to doze off a bit, only from exhaustion. And boredom. The worst part of this weekend so far was the incredible boredom he felt.

John put everything away, and he left the wings in the oven on low heat. He came back with lunch for the chair. Just a ham sandwich. As he fed the chair, he said out loud, “My friends will be coming around four. I’ve been feeling so bloated and gassy today. Thankfully my new chair will take care of that. I’ll let them out silently, and it will silently vacuum up my farts so no one has to smell them.

The chair let out a whimper.

…

By the time his friends came, John had changed into sweatpants and a loose comfortable sweatshirt. Matt and Hugo gave him bro hugs, and they all walked toward the living room. From their view, the chair was plain as ever, a normal looking seat, unremarkable and not worth looking at twice. John had already set up the nachos. They all grabbed beers, John opted for his bottle of stout. He sat down in his chair and relaxed, taking a deep swig of the bottle. The three of them chatted about work, Hugo vented about his girlfriend, they watched the game and talked about stats, they munched on nachos, they made dirty jokes. John felt his stomach cramp a bit, and so he carefully let out a silent stream of gas. It felt very hot, and it warmed up his butt and the seat of the chair. The heat went away quickly at least. The chair was working. John smiled.

Later, he got up to bring in the wings. As he got up, he smoothed out the sides of the chair to fix any suspicious indentations. For a split second, the seat seemed to be in the shape of a human face. But neither of the friends noticed, because, well, why would anyone pay attention to a chair? In the kitchen, John pulled the wings out of the oven. His stomach still felt sick. The milk from earlier was still bothering him, plus the new addition of nacho cheese. The beer wasn’t helping, and if he dipped fried chicken wings into a cheese sauce…He closed his eyes. It would be very hard for him to hide his gas. But he had to be a good host.

The night went on, and the more drunk they got, the louder they got. They laughed, they cheered. John was so comfortable in his seat. He slowly let out what felt like the hundreth fart of the night. Again, he felt his ass warm up. And again, he felt the slightest nudge underneath him.

“Dude should you be eating all this cheese?” Hugo asked.

Matt laughed, “Oh yeah, doesn’t this shit give you like mad farts and stuff,”

“Hah, yeah,” John shrugged, “To be honest I’ve been farting into my chair ever since I sat down.”

They all started laughing. He went on, “Seriously, it isn’t even like a bunch of farts, for the past hour it’s been one long stream of gas. I’m still letting it out.”

Hugo was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t worry, my chair’s been absorbing it all,”

…

After the game ended, they sat in the living room, chatting some more. Finally, it was nearing 10pm, and they decided to head out. “You wanna come out to Nico’s with us?” Their favorite bar.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve been exhausted I think I’ll just watch some TV then head to bed.” And he genuinely was feeling sick to his stomach.

He saw them out. Then he returned to the living room and stretched. He saw that he forgot to adjust the fabric the last time he got up, and so the indentation of a face was clear on the seat. John was surprised that none of them had noticed. His dick was getting hard. He walked over to the chair and took the fabric off. Ben took a gasp of air.

“Thirsty?”

“Yes sir,” he coughed.

He went to get a glass of water. He wanted to congratulate Ben on a job well done. Five hours worth of farts went completely unnoticed because of him. But it would be strange to thank a chair for doing something it’s supposed to do anyway. And it isn’t as if a chair would feel something like pride in being a fart absorber.

After giving Ben some water, John sat back down. His eyelids were heavy. He watched the TV some more. He realized he was falling asleep. He got up, went to the fridge, and pulled out the fourth bottle of the night. Not a whole lot, but enough to make his body feel heavy. He got an idea. He was trembling with excitement, but he couldn’t think about it too much or the plan wouldn’t work. He opened a drawer and took out a roll of duct tape. Back in the living room, he set the bottle on the table next to his chair. Then he pulled out a strip of duct tape, and used it to cover the mouth in the chair. Then, he turned around, and slowly lowered the back of his sweatpants. His hairy ass hung out of his pants, and he slowly sat down on the chair, adjusting so that his hole was over the nose as usual. He yawned. He drank the beer and watched the TV, lowering the volume. After another hour, without trying he fell asleep.

…

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that Ben realized, with horror, what had happened. That John had fallen asleep with his disgusting unwashed asshole against his nose. Without being able to open his mouth, he had to breathe through his nose, which meant he had to take in his stink with each breath. The weight over him made it difficult to breath as it was.

When he first farted, Ben thought that John was awake. The fart made his eyes burn, and he gagged against the duct tape. Then he realized that John was completely asleep, and that he just farted in his sleep. They were soft, but thick and hot and swampy. The combination of lactose, beer, and deep fried foods, made the stink beyond atrocious. Another fart seeped out of John’s ass. Ben gripped the sides of the board, and wiggled his feet, and tried shifting his body around. There had to be some way to turn his head to the side so he didn’t have to suffer it. But everything had been planned out too well. There was no escape. The asshole was providing him his only air, and so it was the only thing keeping him alive through the night.

…

At 7am the next morning, the alarm in John’s room went off. He could hear it from the living room. He had a bit of a headache, and his mouth was dry. He saw the TV was still on, low volume. The morning news. He drifted in and out of sleep for a bit.

Almost half an hour later, he opened his eyes again. He felt sweaty. Uncomfortably sweaty. It was warm in this room, and the sweat clothes were really making him sweat. He knew his hairy ass was coated in sweat, and the face pressed up in his ass crack also felt uncomfortably hot. John smiled. He couldn’t imagine how horrible the night had to have been for his chair. He grunted and let out a beastly morning fart.

PPPPTPRPTRPTRPTRPTRPTPPSSSS

Yep. Definitely a beer fart. He felt shifting underneath him. Good, his chair survived the night. He stayed there for a bit so the chair could absorb the gas.

He stood up, peeling his cheeks off the face, and yanked the duct tape off. The chair cried out in pain, and then started gasping. John ignored the noise and walked to his room, his ass still hanging out, red marks from where it had been rubbing skin all night.

He took off his clothes, went into the bathroom, and took another shower. Again, he kept his ass out of the curtain. He thought it must have looked funny from an outsider perspective; a man taking a shower with his ass sticking out.

Usually he went for a run, but he wasn’t feeling good. His stomach was still a wreck from the night before. Only 7 more hours of fun. He didn’t put on a shirt, but he did put on a pair of basketball shorts.

He went back to the kitchen and made a bowl of oatmeal. He fed the chair without speaking to it. The chair didn’t say anything, it greedily ate the oatmeal off the spoon. Even though John knew it would make him feel worse, he poured himself a bowl of cereal with milk. He brought his cereal into the living room and ate it while watching the news from his chair. His stomach hurt in the next half hour.

SSSPPPPPPPRPRPRRPRPRPRR

The fart was painful, and sounded ugly. John cringed and held his stomach. He wanted to take one of his emergency gas pain relief pills, but that would probably stop his gas for the rest of the day. He only had 6.5 hours of fun left with his chair, and he wanted to make it happy. So he bore the pain, and pushed out the next fart.

PPRRTTRTRTRTRPTPRTPRTPRTPRTPRPTRPTPRTP

The chair was working overtime to suck in these farts. John was surprised he still felt and heard gagging underneath him. You’d think after so much time, the chair would get used to it by then.

A wicked thought came to John’s mind. He’d had it before when he first messaged Ben, but he didn’t take it seriously. But he thought, what if he just decided to keep his new chair, and ignore any previous arrangements. Of course the thought was just a fantasy, he couldn’t actually do that to Ben. But it made his balls tighten.

…

He didn’t do much the next couple hours. As usual, he watched TV, and unleashed his upset-stomach farts into the seat of the chair. He couldn’t imagined what they must have smelt like. And thanks to the chair, he would have no idea.

At lunch, he just had a sandwich. He fed the same type of sandwich to the chair, and gave it water. Then, he sat back down. He watched reruns. He yawned. It was pretty boring to just sit in a chair all day, but he wanted the chair’s last hours to be full of farts and ass stink.

The clock eventually struck 3:30pm. Only 30 more minutes. The chair had done a fantastic job today. Unlike yesterday with all of its shaking around and moaning and speaking, the chair was completely quiet, and barely moved. It didn’t matter how loud or long or rank the farts were, the chair silently took them in. Again, as John’s heart was pounding, he pulled his pants down and sat back on the chair with his bare ass. He felt the tongue wiggle up his hole immediately. He started to jerk off, his throbbing cock large in his hand. His balls felt swollen. He knew he was going to cum soon, so he had to make it count.

He tried imagining what it was like for his chair the past two days. How endless the assault of farts must have been for its nose. How uncomfortable its body had to be in the straps. How it had no way of knowing the passage of time, and could only see, feel, and smell the ass that was resting on it. How bad his ass stunk from the farts and from not washing. And how the chair licked his asshole without protest.

He felt a fart and ripped it onto the tongue and into its mouth.

PRRRR

The tongue recoiled for a moment, then kept going.

John came. His asshole clenched over the tongue that was rimming him.

He settled down, his heart beating, and feeling light headed, as the tongue kept probing his asshole. The clock read 4pm, but he spent a few minutes relaxing in the afterglow.

“Alright then,” John sighed in disappointment, “Time’s up.”

He stood up. Ben let out a sigh of relief. John lowered the gurnee, and moved the chair out of the way. Then, he pulled the gurnee halfway out. He undid the hoses and tubes around Ben’s privates. Then he pulled the gurnee out. Ben looked pale, limp, and miserable. Especially in his eyes, there was such misery and exhaustion. His cock was rock hard.

“I don’t normally do this to guys,” John said, “But you deserve a reward for being such a good chair,”

He dropped his pants, and straddled Ben, lowering his asshole over his face, smothering him. As he sat on Ben, he watched as his body buckled around. John grabbed Ben’s rock hard cock, bent over, and took it into his mouth.

Ben had been rock hard for so long, that he felt his dick was sensitive enough to go off at the slightest friction. At least, that’s what he thought would happen, if he had any physical stimulation while he was down there. It only took him a minute to erupt cum into John’s mouth. He moaned into John’s ass.

Then, John stood up and undid the straps. Slowly, Ben moved his joints around. When John got to the headboard and undid the strap and posts, Ben cracked his neck loudly. Like a sloth, he tried sitting up, his full body was fatigued. Red lines from where the straps were raced across his skin.

“Well…how was it?” John smiled.

“That was fucking horrible,” Ben muttered.

“Oh,” John frowned, “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you hoped it would be.”

“Fuck off, where’s your bathroom, I need to shower.”

…

John drove him to the train station that evening. In the car, just before Ben left, he said “Well, even though you didn’t like it, thanks for helping me live out this fantasy.”

“Whatever,” Ben’s voice was low. He got out of the car and headed for the train.

…

On the train ride, Ben looked depressed. He thought through everything he’d experienced. How badly John’s farts stink. How uncomfortable it was to be strapped down. How humiliating and disgusting it was to relieve himself in a hole in the wall. His full body was exhausted and stiff with pain from laying on the board for so long. And John didn’t even have the decency to let him stretch once. He remembered how boring it was to just lay there quietly, passively taking farts to the face, and then staring up at the ceiling when he was away. He had constant headaches from exhaustion and the pressure of John’s body. He felt underfed and cranky from the small bland meals John made for him. And worst of all, he was constantly nauseous when John farted into his nose. His throat hurt from so much coughing and gagging. And when the farts were very bad, he would jerk around and the straps dug more into his skin, making it burn.

He’d turned down going with his friends to a bar that weekend for this. He’d chosen to spend two days of his life like this. He felt so dirty and pathetic. And embarrassed. He had been so excited to try out bondage, and his fart fetish, only to hate both in the end.

That night, he was laying in bed, and he thought about John’s ass, how bad it stunk, how gross it felt sweating on his face, how the hairs clung to his nose and made it itch.

Despite how much he’d hated the experience, his cock was rock hard. And cocks usually don’t lie.

He called John.

“Hello?”

“Hey John, it’s me. Ben.”

“Oh…hey. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I loved it so much.”

“Really? You sounded so mad after I let you out,”

“Yeah but…” Ben couldn’t explain, “I can’t stop thinking about your asshole.”

“Oh well I’m flattered, haha,”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?”

On the other end of the line, Ben heard John laughing.

str8brostink

A Faggot’s Purpose

This story is set in an alternate universe in which upon reaching the age of 18, in all boys schools, the boys are separated from the fags. The boys begin their journey into manhood. They are taught about faggots and how to use them to maximize their own masculinity. The straight boys are taught that the primary purpose of a faggots existence is to inhale straight men’s farts. Faggots are fake men; sissies, homos, and queers. They are beneath straight men and are to be used only to serve the straight man. Heterosexual men are taught that farting in a faggots face is a way to boost testosterone and to assert masculine dominance. Besides that, straight guys have come to use faggots for entertainment purposes as well, such as having a fart sniffer for a farting contest on a boys night out. All straight men can agree that no matter how progressive society gets on LGBT issues, there’s nothing funnier and more masculine than a straight man blasting a faggots nostrils with a rippling fart. While the straight guys are being taught how to properly dominate faggots with their stink and farts, the faggots will be taught how to be effective fart slaves by a merciless headmaster known only as Alpha. Alpha is a hyper-masculine heterosexual man with homophobic tendencies and bad gas, a former pro-athlete who is notorious for his fart-based bullying.

The protagonist of this story is James. He is an 18 year old faggot who is, unbeknownst to him, about to begin his fart-sniffing orientation.

As James arrives to his all-boys school, he is swiftly whisked off to the basement of the school and thrown into a large empty room with all the other faggots in the school. The only noticeable feature about the room is that there are multiple air vents in every corner of the room. James and the other faggots were locked in this room by two male security guards. The male security guards order James and the others to get on their hands and knees and wait for their new headmaster to arrive. The only information they were given was that their lives were about to change forever and that the headmaster will arrive shortly to explain everything. James and the others pace around anxiously as they await to see what is about to happen to them. Suddenly the door to the room bursts open, and a very large man dressed formally enters the room. Immediately he is emanating an aura of dominance, masculinity, and intimidation. He is absolutely shredded, with his large muscles nearly popping out of his buttoned up dress shirt, which is tucked into a pair of black dress pants. James can’t help but notice the size of his ass. It’s the biggest ass he’s ever seen, his two round ass cheeks barely contained by his pants. Two muscular security guards follow behind the intimidating man. The ridiculously buff man scans the room, observing all of the fragile feminine young men on their hands and knees before him. James and all the others wait anxiously for the man to speak.

“Alright faggots!”” The man’s deep booming voice startles James as he jumps. “Let’s make one thing clear right off the bat” the intimidating man address to the classroom full of faggots before him “You exist only to serve MEN, as in red blooded pussy-loving, STRAIGHT MEN, you are FAGGOTS not men. That means you’ll be sniffing our farts and burps, used as a rag for our sweaty armpits and asscracks, and overall doing whatever the fuck we tell you to do” James’ jaw drops at the man’s blatant display of homophobia and the insane things he is saying. This can’t be happening.

“You may be shocked to hear this, but this school is funded by the government and they believe that keeping fags like you all in line and teaching you your place in society is necessary for maintaining social order. Do not try to resist. This is your biological purpose on this earth. My job here is to whip you faggots into proper shape to become effective fart slaves. You will address me only as Alpha. And you will obey me.”

James is shell shocked. He looks around the room to see everyone else has a similar expression on their face. He notices one boy raise his hand. “This is insane!! You can’t do this!!” The brave faggot protests. Alpha begins approaching the faggot without responding.

The faggot continues blabbing it’s mouth, “We have rights you know! LGBT rights are acknowledged around th-“ The faggot’s annoying preaching is cut short when Alpha large masculine hand grapples the faggots entire head. He swivels his hips slightly, pointing his ass towards the faggot’s face and cocked his leg in preparation. mercilessly, the queer’s face is shoved directly into his huge muscled straight-man butt. Alpha doesn’t hold back as he drills a short but potent “wet n’ bubbly” directly into the homo’s nostrils. “That’s what I think about your LXQRT rights” Alpha says mockingly as he looks down at the faggots face squirming in his putrid smelling ass, his thin muscle-less arms pathetically flailing and trying to fight back to no avail. Alpha releases the faggot from his ass, it dry heaves. “And that was with pants on” Alpha chuckles and grins with pride at the faggot gagging from the stench unleashed straight up his nose. “Speak when spoken too, faggot!” Alpha yells at the teary-eyed homo. Alpha was chosen as instructor for this crucial process due to his renowned noxious farts and strong masculine energy capable of dominating multiple faggots at a time.

“Let this be a lesson to the rest of you worthless faggots!” Alpha addresses the room of fart-sniffers. “Know your place or there will be punishments” Alpha continues while walking down the aisle of faggots on all fours, leaving them at eye-level with Alpha’s thick masculine ass, the faggots could smell his ass-musk as he walked by them, leaving a few “presents” for the queers as he walked by. Usually silent but deadly so the faggots behind him would gag and sometimes fall as he walked past them. “Any questions?” Alpha asks the class. A twiggy fag to the right of Alpha raises its hand, Alpha quickly points his ass in the defenceless queer’s face and blasts an obnoxiously loud fart that blows the faggots hair back. “Great” Alpha concludes, not bothering to look back at the faggot he just ass-blasted to see if it was okay as he walks to the front of the classroom.

“Each of you will be assigned a heterosexual to serve, later this week, your heterosexual superiors will arrive to try you out, blast a few farts up your pathetic noses and see which faggots they prefer...then a decision is made by the council and you are to serve your heterosexual superior until further notice.” Tears begin to well up in James’ eyes as he realizes this is legit and there’s nothing he can do about it. Alpha and all of his security guards dwarf James and all the others in size, they could easily overpower every faggot in the room and do god knows what to them. “You will remain in this room for the next several hours as we prepare your sleeping situation.” Alpha informs the devastated queers on the knees in front of him. “Guards! Open up the vents” Alpha turns around and begins to exit the room. His enormous ass jiggling slightly with each step. The security guards move to the corners of the room and open up the vents and quickly step back and exit the room immediately. James notices a very faint greenish/brownish haze seeping out of the vents. James’ nose has a few seconds of peace before it hits him. An extremely strong stench hits James like a truck. James and the other faggots almost immediately realize what’s happening. Their heterosexual peer’s farts are being ventilated through an air system into the sealed room containing the faggots. James and other faggots gag on the repulsive eggy stench penetrating their sinuses, as they are forced to inhale nothing but rank straight boy ass fumes. Their eyes well up as they all begin to cough and panic, banging on the door to no avail. This process is done to prepare the faggots for what is to come and to acclimatize them into their inevitable futures, also just for shits and gigs, nothing like watching faggots squirm and squeal as their noses are pounded with straight dude farts.

After hours marinating in the stink, the security guards enter the room again in gas masks. They head straight to the vents and close them, then removing their masks now that it’s safe for them. James and the others are so weak from inhaling straight boy gas for hours that they have no energy to resist or fight back. One of the security guards addresses the queers, “alright faggots, we’ve graciously set up your sleeping areas, we will now be escorting you there, don’t bother fighting back, you’re all to weak compared to us anyways.” The security guards aggressively herd up the faggots and escort them out of the stench-filled room and towards where they will be sleeping for the foreseeable future. As the security guards escort them they shameless blow farts into their faces, it’s completely normal to them.

The room they’re sleeping in is filled with bunk beds, and large speakers in each corner of the room. James notices each bed has a gas mask next to it with a tube that connects to the ceiling. One of the security guard explains what the mask is for. “Alright faggots, you’re gonna be wearing these masks all night while you sleep, and what is being pumped through those tubes you ask? A constant stream of straight dude gas.” The guard laughs gleefully. “Our goal is to have you inhale as much heterosexual gas as you possibly can during your time here. These masks will be secured to your face so that you cannot remove them. Each mask corresponds to one of your heterosexual superiors, you can see whose farts you’ll be inhaling on the label of the mask. The speakers in the corner will be playing an audio recording of Alpha proving you queers with some psychological conditioning. Now let’s get you fags in bed.”

The guards guide each queer to their respective bed. James is roughly grabbed by the back of his neck and shoved into his bed. James looks at his gas mask and notices his label says “ETHAN.” James knows who Ethan is. He was an immature homophobic bully in James’ class, he loved to pick on James in the most childish ways. The guard aggressively straps the mask on to James face. “Enjoy, faggot” the guard whispers in James’ ear. Immediately James’ sinuses are flooded with a cheesy stench, james can tell exactly what Ethan ate today...a egg sandwich for breakfast...beans for lunch...and cabbage rolls for dinner, he must’ve known James had his mask tonight, he’s farting like a beast. The overhead speakers turn on for their nightly psychological conditioning. The faggots drift off to sleep to the sound of verbal degradation. “This is where you belong, faggot” James listens to the overhead announcements as Ethan’s farts continue to wreck havoc on James’ nostrils. “Youre nothing but a worthless fart-sniffer” One of Ethan’s farts is particularly potent and burns James’s nostril hair and eyelashes with its reek of rotten eggs and spoiled milk. James groans in humiliation, he can just imagine Ethan,laughing at him now as he gags of his straight-boy gas.

story92746

Bro

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

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

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

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

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

fartcushion

Would love to see a mini follow up to your sleepwalking uncle caption. I’m imagining an “unintentional” dutch oven…

A follow on from this caption

Finally it's the last night of my uncle staying with us. This hell of breathing in his nightly emissions, that follow his sleep walking ritual of raiding the fridge of the food that upsets his stomach, will come to an end. I've had to keep the window open through the day to air out the room enough to sleep in it come the night, and the bedding has needed to be washed almost daily from his rotten gas stench that's clung to it. My pillowcase in particular, it's almost as if he's been coming in and sitting on the pillow and farting while I'm asleep, though I push that thought out of my mind as surely I'd have known if he was regularly farting in my face while I slept. There was only that one time, when I woke up, so unless while asleep he learned to be more stealthy it's impossible.

As I go to bed that night I'm excited that it's almost over, but a little apprehensive. My mom cooked a huge farewell meal. I'm bloated and stuffed from it myself, and my uncle ate more than twice as much as me. I dread to think what it'll be doing to his stomach. But try not to think about it and go to sleep. Drifting off to the peaceful thought of a better smelling tomorrow.

I'm woken by a bright light. Standing in my open bedroom door, hall light illuminating from behind his bulky frame, my uncle stood. I quietly slide a little down and pull the quilt over my head. I'll wait out his farts protected from the smell beneath the cover.

I can hear him step in to the room. The shuffle of his feet on the carpet. But no farts erupt. Silence. Then light blinds me again as my quilt is lifted up. From my position I can only see my uncles big, hairy, belly and his tattered old underwear stretched tight. He lifts his leg and at first I thought he was going to start farting, the quilt held up to expose me, but then he crouched down and got in to the bed. Without me being there on the bed for him to see he must have confused it for his room and thought it was his bed. With it up against the wall I had little room, to avoid being sat on I backed up as far as I could go, which pinned the quilt between me and the wall. Before I had chance to move and free myself he was sat in the bed, his thick legs pressing me more against the wall, his arms on top weighing me down. Almost pressing me down.

Trapped under the quilt I waited. Hoping he'd get up again. But instead he began to fart. Under the covers a foot from his ass I was hit by the smell. His wet lactose farts, sulphurous eggy farts, eye watering farts. They erupted from his ass and the temperature around me went up several degrees. I couldn't breathe anything but his gas. No matter which way I tried to move I was blocked, held or pushed. The only way I could potentially go was to climb over my uncle. I went to climb over him, but as I got half way there his arm moved and I was forced face down between his open legs. I couldn't see anything in the pitch black, but I could feel his bulge against my cheek. His sweaty balls. My nose was an inch from his ass and I could smell the farts on the sheets and his underwear.

PPPPPRRRRRBBBB

PPPPRRRBBBBPPPTTR

BBBPPPTTT

As the three farts hit me I pulled myself back violently, wanting to get away as quick as possible. Pressed back up against the wall as much as I could, I inhaled the shit filled air. My uncle began to roll. In the darkness I could see nothing, but from the movement I knew his ass was coming round my way. I could smell it. It must have been just in front of me, I could feel the warm air emanating from it, the smell of stale farts and ass sweat. Another fart blew at my face. Before I could even react another movement and the ass was pressed back, straight on my face. Stuck now between the wall and my uncles ass.

The barrage of farts continued and no matter what I did I couldn't get free. I daren't not cry out as I'd have to open my mouth! But I hammed against him with my fists despite the warnings I'd been told of waking a sleepwalker, but it was to no avail. Fart after fart rippled across my face, the smell burning my nose hair as my lungs burned trying to find oxygen. I could feel the temperature getting unbearably hot. I was dehydrating from this dutch oven of my sleeping uncles making.

I don't know how long I was there pressed in to his ass, breathing in his farts. After around the thirtieth I think I passed out. The next thing I new I was waking up, under the quilt still, but no uncle. It was morning. The only sign he'd been there and it wasn't a horrible nightmare was the lingering smell that surrounded me. Feeling sick I threw the cover off me and fled my room.

At the breakfast table my uncle was sat there talking to my parents. He was dressed, and his bags packed next to him, ready to go. When I walked in he saw me and smiled.

"Morning! I was just telling your folks what an amazing night sleep I had last night. I feel so refreshed, I guess I must not have sleep walked at all last night. Probably the stress finally being over for me now I can move in to my own place again! Tell you what, once I'm all set up you'll have to come visit me there. It only has the one bed for now, but you don't mind sharing with your uncle for a night, do you?"

theepitomeofbeautifulreloaded

fartcushion

My uncle was staying with us for a couple of weeks. We got on fine during the day, the problem is at night he sleep walks. He will get up, go to the fridge to get some snacks and a drink, then head back to bed.

That would all be fine if he weren't lactose intolerant; but asleep he drinks glasses of milk and bites mouthful of cheese from the block. Also when sleep walking he gets disoriented and comes in to my room after instead of his own.

He'll stumble in, groaning in his discomfort, stomach gurgling. Then unload the most toxic farts in my room before heading off again. Last night he even squatted down beside my bed, I woke just in time to get a face full of it. Really wish my mouth hadn't been open in surprise!

He's always so apologetic the next morning when I confront him. Weird thing is, when I asked my dad about his brother sleep walking he didn't know what I was talking about.

guywhowatches

A Bubbling time

You sighed, leaning back into the large tub. This field trip wasn't exactly going how you'd wanted. You'd been trying your hardest to get the attention of at least get one of the good looking guys, but to no avail. Still, at least you had the room to yourself right now. Though you couldn't be asked to switch on the bubbles, cause you disliked them and found it distracting. So you just sat there in the clear, hot water.

"Oh, you're in here?" You jumped and looked behind you, to see Brad standing there, in nothing but his swimming trunks and flipflops. He looked a little annoyed, but you were too distracted by his perfect body physique. "You gonna be in here long?" He asked, sounding impatient.

You stuttered a little. You didn't want to leave as you finally had the chance to be in contact with not only one of the hot guys, but literally the hottest one of them all. However, he did look a little frustrated. But then you realised that perhaps you could wear him down and get chatting with him, and probably make a move on him, if you got lucky enough. So, you decided to stand your ground.

gayguygas

Smell of the stepson

This is a long story.

lifewithdavefarts

DaveFarts - Episode 36 “Numbers” [Episode List] Dave baits Tim into playing a silly game just to showoff his farting skills.

POV: Tim

Welp, I’m tech-savvy enough to know how to fix a damn TV, but I’m also wise enough to admit defeat.

While we were on vacation a storm hit our town and apparently -as Dave jokingly said- Zeus held a grudge against our small house, so much so that, according to our neighbours, it got struck at least 6 times by lightning in the span of a few minutes.

And people say those never strike twice in the same place.

I guess we were lucky we didn’t come back only to find a pile of ashes and rubble.

Truth to be told, there was no actual damage, save for the TV as you may have guessed.

It’s been more than a week (a very busy week, work-wise) since we came back and, save for occasional important sport events and gaming, we’re actually not big TV guys, so it took us a while to notice that the thing was pretty much dead.

For a moment Dave feared that the unlucky victim was the PlayStation, so much so that he screamed my name in genuine terror, promptly making me rush downstairs as his tone was the one of a man fighting for his life.

You think this is the part where I metaphorically roll my eyes at my wAcKy RoMmAte’s shenanigans, but no, I agree with him.

After a long day, especially after so many busy days, one only wants to relax by getting angry at a particularly challenging interactive toy, and as a gamer myself I totally feel my roommate’s pain.

tparker48

Request for anonymous

How did an evening party turn into this? The night started off with an invitation to a party in a corner of the city. ‘Where your best wares’ Mando found posters advertising, scattering across buildings to city hall. Tykone was stoked about attending the event, even if it was well above their league. From what was a moment of joy quickly soured, as the smell of dried iron wrangled his nose.

His eyes fluttered through the grainy bag over his head, a black abyss staring back at him. Palms gripped his shoulders as he flung against a solid surface, and the stuffy bag yanked away. He found himself inside a square room, A single light bulb illuminating its glow over the cemented walls.

Next to him, another figure was tied to the chair, bucking at their restraints.

“Get this damn bag off of me!” they muffled beneath their bag.

From the shadows a palm grabbed the back of the bag. As it yanked away, it revealed the chiseled mug of his colleague, Tykone.

“Fucking finally!” Tykone said, coughing up dust.

“Tykone? The heck is going on.” Mando asked.

“How the hell should I know? I don’t-” A palm pounced from the shadows, punching his chest. “Ahh!”

“Quiet!” Another voice said.

Heavy steps circled them, the darkness clouding the room. As they came to a stop, a palm reached for the lamp, a robust man coming into the light. His tuxedo bulked against the contour of his frame, hairs sprouting from his sleeves like vines. He struck Tykone again, before continuing to stalk them.

“You dipshits picked a bad night to steal from the mistress.” The man dusted his knuckles on his suit. He reached for the edge of the lamp, pointing the bulb at them. “Where's the diamond you stole?”

“Diamond? We didn't steal any-”

He barely blinked as the man’s fist stretched out, and the weight of his arm crashed against his stomach. His inside tightened as he hunched in his seat, his lungs grasping strings of his breath.

“Don't play coy with us, we saw you two walking around the party. We’ve been watching you since you entered the apartment. And goofy here,” the man pointed a finger at Tykone. “Was seen in the restricted sanction.

“Tykone,” Mando said, sweat dripping from his face. “You said you were heading to the restroom.”

“Don’t believe this asshat for one second, Of course I went to the restroom.” Tykone said. “ Probably saw me from the bathroom in there. What did you wanna watch me whizz, Big man?”

Crinkling pops erupted from the man’s knuckles, his fingers arching into his palm. As he approached Tykone, the metal door behind him swung open. The sound of clicking brought silence to the room, as a woman stepped inside. Her suit hugged her body like a second layer of skin, golden necklaces swinging across her chest.

She came into the light, the man’s cold stare replaced with worry. “M-madam Liset!”

He received no response, his words reflecting from her shades. She walked deeper into the room, observing Mando and Tykone.

“Was wondering why it was so quiet down here.” She finally spoke. “So these two are the reason my gem is missing.”

With shaken hands, the man bowed his head. “Apologies mistress, but these little shits have told nothing about your diamond. just a moment and-”

She raised a palm, the man's words sealing behind his lips. She brought a cigar that lazily hung in her hand to her lips, its charcoaled end illuminating a crimson orange. She approached Tykone and Mando, her shadow splitting between.

“One of you is fucked.” she began, puffing a cloud of smoke over their heads. “The question is, which one is it?”

“Neither!” Tykone said. “You grubbers have been hounding us all night, and we already told ya, we ain't got no damn diamond.”

Madam Liset adjusted her shades. Her eyes pierced past the dark lenses like a cat’s eyes, unamused, cold. “You got quite the mouth on you.”

“Yeah? And what's it to ya, toots?”

“P-pay no mind to his manner’s, madam!” Mando said, “He just has an asshole tone. He doesn't-”

“Silent!” She said, her brow twisting like snakes.

With a heavy swallow, Mando lowered his head.

“What? You gonna let this girl trample over you like some rose petals? Grow a spine!”

“My dear, I haven't even started with a step. But if you want to be trampled...” from her coat pocket she brought out a round bell, ringing it in the air.

Silence stirred between them for a moment, before another set of steps came from the door. Palms the size of giant pizza plates cracked the wood, the lamp lopping on the shoulder of a burly man as the door vanished behind him.

“Mistress ring bell?” The man said.

“Ah, Terrance, there you are.” She said over her shoulder. She pointed at Tykone and Mando, who looked at the monstrous man. “I found you some playmates to have fun with.”

The man peered over Madam Liset’s shoulder and towards them. From what was a plain stare now lit with curiosity. Playmates, something about that phrase Mando doubted anything good would come from it.

“Me get to play?” Terrance scratched his chin. “but small men so frail!”

“They're tougher than they look.” She assured, pointing a finger at Tykone. “That one over there especially.”

“tougher than look?” He took another glance. “hehe, nice.”

Madam Liset gestured to the guard behind them. Mando lost track of him as he passed his shoulder, the sound of ropes unraveling before their holds relinquished themselves from his colleague. Kicking the ropes away, Tykone stood, rubbing the striped marks along his wrist.

“All that talk just to send your lap dog to do your bidding.” Tykone said. “What’s wrong toots? afraid to do it yourself?”

“Tussling with the ravel is beneath me.” She said coldly. “Buffoons especially.”

“Bufoon, huh? All show you buffon!”

Tykone charged, aiming for Madam Liset. As he hurled a punch, a muscular arm flung from her side like a tendril, a hairy palm gripping his own. Mando barely blinked before the man moved, his arm stretching the dark corner of the room like a phantom.

“Small man fight me, not mistress.” Terrance said, hoisting Tykone from his feet like a doll. hurling a fist toward the towering man as it found its mark on his stomach.

With an amused puff, Terrance gripped Tykone’s neck, hurling him across the room as the steel chair he once sat in crumbled beneath him.

“Small man fly like rock.” Terrance bellowed, dusting the lint from his suit. “Love flying lesson, yes?”

Tykone staggered to his feet, holding his side. “You cocky..”

He advanced again towards Tykone, hammering into Terrance's frame. Soft grunts escaped from Terrance, but his crooked smile never faltered. Every blow that Tykone struck rippled from his suit, as if he were punching a wall. Tykone aimed his fist higher, but Terrance caught them mid swing.

“Tickles.” He merely said, belly bumping Tykone as he tumbled to the floor.

“You’re..not gonna make a fool out of me!” Tykone said.

“Tykone!” Mando said. “Maybe we should think this through!”

“And let this man use us like toys? To hell with that.” Sluggishly, Tykone stood, wiping the dirt and sweat from his eyes. “If he wants to play, it’ll be over my dead body.”

“Tykone, wait!”

Mando could only watch as his colleague charged forward, raising his fist against Terrance. His fist barely grazed his shoulder, before Terrance delivered his into Tykone’s stomach, and he crumbled to the floor. From his restraints, a part of him was glad to still be bound in his chair, but the other half, it cried to his colleague as Terrance's hand gripped his shirt.

For several minutes he watched Tykone be thrown around the room, dustbunnies fleeing from his back like wasps inside a nest. Every stricken blow, he could see there marks taking its toll. Tykone’s strikes became slow, his breath heavy as his own legs couldn’t take a step. As he was pinned beneath the man’s forearm, it all but signaled Mando's concerns. Tykone had no strength left.

“Enough toying with your plaything’s, Terrance!” Madam Liset hissed, her fingers choking her cigar. “I want my info on where my diamond is.”

“Aww, but was just getting warmed up.”

With a squeeze he hurled Tykone to the feet of his mistress, before returning to her side. With a shaken, Tykone attempted to get to his feet, but was pinned beneath the mistress's boot.

“Still feeling tough after that ringer?” Madam Liset said.

Tykone looked up, his face as swollen as a plum. “Eat..shit!”

She let out a groan. She raised a foot overhead, stepping on his back. “ You pieces of dirt are testing my patience.”

Mando watched from his restraints, the heel of her boot grinding at his colleague. He winced as his groans echoed from the walls, dry, tired. He couldn’t bare to watch it. He wriggled in his restraints to loosen then, their coils sending burns into his arms and chest.

“We don’t know where your diamond is! I swear!” He yelled.

“Bullshit!” She stomped again, Tykone rolling across the floor. “ You know damn well where it is! And If I have to get my hands dirty to make you talk, I’ll..”

In that moment she paused, looking to Tykone who writhed beneath her step. Mando held his breath, anticipating her final word, but nothing came out, she only stared. But why? He followed her gaze to a spot between his colleague’s legs.

From his torn trousers, at the apex of his glutes, a round lump cushioned between his mounds, a light twinkle shining from the lamp.

Madam Liset stepped upon his waist. “Well well, what have we here?”

“It’s nothing!” Tykone yelled.

“Bullshit.” She said, stepping off his back. “Terrance.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Terrance loomed over Tykone like a cloud, taking one of his legs in hand as he held him mid air. With an open palm. The sound of tearing leather streaked across the room like a broken record, shreds of materials shedding to the floor, and more of Tykone hide was revealed. With one final gripped, Terrance ripped the underwear away, holding it in the air.

Between the teeth of his fingers was the protruding bulge. As his fingers unfurled, the fabric slithered from the object to reveal a glassy surface, unveiling a diamond.

Madam Liset pulled her shades off. “Speak of the devil.”

Mando gazed upon the shining gem between the man’s hands, and towards Tykone. He had the diamond the whole time? In his underwear of ass of all places. He watched silently as Ykone clamored to his feet, collecting the shredded fabric to cover his crotch.

“I-I don’t know how that got there!” He said.

“No use denying it now.” Madam Liset said. “Bet you should’ve thought of that before you used my diamond like a plug.”

She rose the bell to her side, the mountainous man behind her eyeing it like a cat waiting for its dinner.

“Terrance,” She said briefly, shaking the bell in her hand. “Snack time.”

It was like a switch turned on in the man’s head, as a crooked smile creeped upon his face. His palms seized themselves around Tykone’s legs, reeling him against his body. His Colleague flailed to deter him, but he could barely move as he was flipped upside down, ensnared in a bear hug by the man’s trunk like arms.

Terrance held Tykone like one would hold a sandwich, hoisting his feet against his chest. Opening his mouth, he glomped over them, beads of saliva trickling down his legs. The sounds of his slobbering were like scratch marks on a chalk board, sloppy, slimy. Its sound only intensified as he raised Tykone higher, wolfing his legs inside.

“Get the fuck off me, You psycho!” Tykone struck the side of the man’s head. But he barely managed another strike, as Terrance grabbed his arms, wedging them into the abyss of his mouth. “Let..go!”

He received no further response, but instead, was met with a palm as it clasped the top of his head. Mando watched in horror as his colleague sank deeper, the palm at his head plowing his shoulders past Terrance’s awaiting jaws. His head slipped past the molars, and Terrance clacked his jaws.

The mere seconds were like daggers as Mando stared upon the man, who remained stationary in the middle of the room. The motion he managed came from the thick swelling in his neck, his muscle constricted his colleague like a snake’s. Even just a foot away, he could barely hear Tykone, garbled beyond understanding as he was deeper into the man.

Amidst his trance, he hadn’t noticed Terrance focused on him, a string of saliva trickling from his crooked smile. The man approached him with a sluggish stride, the bulge in his neck thrashing him this way and that.

He leaned his face close, presenting an unobscured view of his open maw. Past his withered teeth, he spotted the eyes of his colleague, cushioned beneath the back of the tongue, webs of saliva marinating his skin.

“Do somethin-!”

In that moment, the man’s tonsils shriveled over Tykone, molding him in a tomb of flesh. Terrance stood to his full height, squeezing his neck. Slowly the swollen lump descended, bobbing just above his collarbone. As its presence faded into the chest of Terrance, so too did the voice of his colleague.

With a heavy swallow, sharp stings battered Mando’s face, as the buttons of Terrance's shirt popped from their pouches. Returning his gaze, the man’s gut jiggled before him, spilling over his waist.

Warmth radiated from him like a heater, the symphony of his churning stomach ringing his nerves like hooks. In the heart of the monstrous belly, faint prints pressed against its skin, the ghostly face of Tykone protruding from its side.

“Hah! Small man taste good!” Terrance bellowed, “Salty.”

Mando was in a terrified trance, as a finger traced the contours of his colleague. The man grabbed a handful of his own flesh, squeezing inward as Tykone’s wails intensified.

“Dear god..” Mando muttered.

Amidst his toying of his stomach, Terrance turned to his mistress.

“What do with other small man?” He asked.

She scratched her chin. “That depends, feel like you have room for more.”

“No think so!” He slapped a corner of his belly, releasing a muffled scream from Tykone. “Squirmy one make belly feel full.”

“Hm, what a shame.” She said, “Then we’ll just have to put him to use.”

She gestured a hand to Terrance, who gave a sleek smile. Mando froze as his grinning mug turned his way, a fist raising overhead. Its blow struck him like a truck, tilting his chair as he crashed to the floor. Through his blurry vision, the mistress’s heels clicked in front of him.

“Don’t worry dear, you won’t die.” She said, “I have other plans for you.”

The ground beneath him slowly began to fade, and everything faded to black.

—--

The sound of a Tv played through air, Wiry fibers bristling against his cheek. But the tightening grip of his ropes were no more, as they never existed. Mando’s eyes fluttered open, squinting at an angular ceiling light above him. His head was throbbing beyond belief. What happened after he..

He shot around the area, staring into the small corridor past the window. A step rumbled from behind, and the hairy gut that haunted him jiggled into view. He followed up its length,to see Terrance beaming down on him.

“Boo.” He said.

No, not him again! Mando backpedaled from the mountainous man and against a countertop, patches of tissue trickling onto him like snowflakes. Their textures were damp, a ripe aroma jabbing their way into his sinuses.

“The hell is this stuff!” Mando scoffed.

“Morning jizz.” Terrance said plainly, reaching for another layer as he tucked it into his pants. “Small man sleep too long, so Terrance make own fun.”

Mando peeled a tissue away, a cold drift flowing into the creamy puddle along his arm. In a frenzy, he flicked the remaining tissues from his body, shuttering as they stuck between him arms like glue.

“Hah, Terrance like small man!”Terrance said. “Like watching fish from water!”

Mando wiped his arms against the carpet, getting to his feet.

“What kind of filthy place is this?!”

“Your working quarters.”

From the door came Madam Liset, entered the room.

“My working quarters?” Mando said.

“Yes.” She walked towards Terrance. “With Terrance’s big meal, your loud mouth friend’s given him indigestion.”

Terrance slapped the corner of his stomach, a grumble escaping from him. “Other small man kicked good, but now have no energy like before.”

Mando blinked at the statement. “He's still in there?!”

“Or what’s left of him. By now he’s most likely skin and bone.” Madam Liset said. “Terrance has trouble digesting those bits. And that’s where you come in.”

“Me?”

“You’re going to help my dear Terrance with his meal. That will be your only duty.”

Mando’s blood ran cold, holding a hand against the counter. She can’t be serious, she wants him to help this brute with digesting his meal? His colleague?

“What in god’s earth do you think I would ever do that?!”

“Because you don’t have a choice.” She said, “But there’s always option B if you don’t agree.”

A rumbling chuckled came from Terrance, His palm thumping against the thick hide of his stomach. With that response, Mando knew his options.

Comply or be his next meal.

Mando clenched his fist. He didn’t want to help fuel his embarrassment more, but nothing could be more embarrassment than ending up as food. With a sickening sign, Mando gave his answer.

“Fine..I’ll do it.”

“Good, then I expect you to do your job well, try not to disappoint.” With that she made her way into the hallway, but stopped as her foot touched the carpet. “And Terrance, play nice.”

The door closed, silence overtaking the room once more. The carpet crunched up ahead, tainted socks stepping just a foot away. From above he saw Terrance, his stubby mug peering at him like a troll. He felt like a lost kitten as his fingers tangled themselves in the collar of shirt, his feet dangling from the ground.

“No worry Mistress, Terrance play nice.” he said to the closed doorframe, hoisting Mando closer. “Real nice.”

His breath puffed against mando, his nose cushioning against his own. It wreaked the smell of cheeseburgers and aftershave, souring even more as it mixed with the smell of jizz.

“Terrance, I..can call you Terrance, right?” Mando began, tilting his feet to reach to the ground, but felt only the tickle of wiry fibers beneath his toes. “Perhaps we may have gotten on the wrong foot. Perhaps we can start over? Have a heart to heart?”

“Quiet, small man!”

“Yes..right. You see my name isn’t small man, it’s-”

Terrance hurled a punch, striking Mando’s stomach.

“Shutting up! Shutting up!” Mando wheezed.

Terrance turned to the opposite wall of the room, approaching a mattress. The clenched fist that carried him unfurled as he crashed to the floor, while Terrance crashed onto the mattress.

“Small man has one job, tend to Terrance’s tummy.” He sprawled onto the mattress, laying against the pillow. He cleared chip crumbs tangled in his belly hairs, before jabbing a finger at its side. “Rub.”

Mando got to his feet, eyeing the ample gut before him.

He rubbed over his fingers. “D..do you at least have gloves?”

“Rub! Or small man next!”

Mando swallowed, looking to the stomach before him. Here goes nothing.

He approached the side of the bed, and pressed his hands into the man’s gut. It was like easing into a water bed, Terrance’s warm, tender flesh molding around his fingers. He shuddered as a bony structure brushed against his palm, sliding his palm away. Every shift or so he’d come across another structure, sometimes round, or even edgy.

He still couldn’t be Tykone was in there, stewing in the contents like the half eaten burgers along the edge of the mattress. As he swirled his palms around the arch of the gut, a hushed whimper escaped, and he stopped in his tracks. That sound just now, did that come from Tykone, or Terrance?

He snapped out of his trance as one the brute’s thighs struck his leg.

“Why rub stop?” Terrance demanded. “Keep rubs coming!”

“Er, right..” Mando said.

He returned his palm to the underside of the belly, Its gurgling growls rattling beneath his touch. He looked to the corner of the belly, the once profound sign of his colleague now reduced to a mere lump, and the muffled he once heard so clearly was now a series of bubbling.

The thought of him massaging the brute's stomach with Tykone inside it still lingered in his mind, but he forced tit to become an afterthought. He had to continue, less he faced the same fate.

With a deep and heavy inhale, Mando pressed into the stomach, and continued to rub.

And rubbed he did. He continued his duties throughout the afternoon, the sun fleeing from the window and beyond the trees. All the while, Terrance's blissful moans filled the void of silence. His once round belly was now half a fraction of its size, but the contents remained. Every so often a faint snap vibrated beneath Mando's touch, the tender flesh softening beneath his weight. His heart still urched from the deed, but he forced himself to continue.

For another hour he continued his rubs, until finally Terrance rose from his bed.

Mando took a step back, holding his palms. “w..well?”

Terranced hummed, fondling the curves of his gut. “Small man not bad, make stomach feel strong.”

Mando shuttered at the compliment, turning his gaze to the window. But he soon turned as the door clicked open, and madam Liset stepped inside.

“Ah, finally finished.” She said. “Terrance, fill me in on the results.”

Terrance got to his feet, passing Mando, but not before gripping his head, and shoving him to the mattress.

“Heh, yes mistress.” He said, the two disappearing into the doorway.

Mando watched as they disappeared into the hallway, leaving him inside the room. As he sat along the wooled carpet floor, he looked to the surrounding area, and toward the window. For a moment,he looked at his palms. Even though Terrance’s touch wasn’t there, he could still feel his wiry hairs tingling his fingers, and the sound of withered bones crinkling in his head.

“Don’t think about that.” he rubbed his head, hoping to find something in the empty room to distract him.

Another few minutes past, and he remained alone in the room. By now the sound of the ceiling fan had gone silent, before shuffling came from the door. The handle opened, and madam Liset and Terrance entered. In one of the man's hands, he held a black trashbag, as it sagged against his thigh.

“Terrance has filled me in on your..labor.” she rolled her fingers through the trimmed hairs of Terrance’s head, “You did well to satisfy him. If not entertain him.”

“So..so we’re done then?” Mando asked.

“Yes, you’ve been a good boy for us, so you have the leisure of being spared.” She said, “Terrance even brought you a goodie bag.”

Terrance chucked the trashbag in his hand to Mando, as it slammed to the floor before him. A foul warmth radiated from the plastic material, corners of its surface creating mountains of folds. Mando looked to Terrance, who stared eagerly at him.

With a heavy swallow, Mando unlaced the tie, and the smell of manure plagued the air. Inside of the bag he found a mash. Clumps of turds cluttered the corners of the bag, bordering a mountain of excrements. Scattered in the pile, Bones stuck from its doughy surface like undug fossils, a skull resting in the middle. This is…

Mando turned to the two, his heart sinking into his stomach.

“Your work’s done wonders for Terrance, even in death that loud mouth was a pain.”

“Small man cause ruckus entering Terrance.” He pounded his stomach. “Heh, but not much when squeezed out of ass.”

“I..I..”

“Come now, spare me sentimental sorrow. This is all but the price of what comes from stealing from me.”

Madam Liset lit a cigar, before returning to the hallway.

“Terrance, be a dear and show our guest the door. We have no use for him now.”

“Yes, mistress.”

With a firm hand Terrance grabbed Mando’s shoulder, entering the hallway. From his shoulder Madam Liset disappeared, a cloud of smoke the only sign of her presence, before that too vanished. Their walk through the building was slow and long, until eventually they came to a door, light seeping through the window. Mando shielded his eyes as Terrance opened the door, his body bucking forward as a palm shoved him outside.

“Small man let of easy, better to learn from experience.” Terrance said, rubbing his fingers around his belly. “Or don’t.”

With a loud slam the door shut, and the chirps of birds in a nearby tree filled the silence. With a heavy breath he hauled the black bag across the dirt road, setting it beneath a tree. Parts of fecal mush had begun to solidify, burying most of Tykone’s bones. His withered skull was all that hovered above the surface, a corner of the cranium sinking inside.

With a clenched fist, Mando zipped the bag. “Why did you go and cause a ruckus?…”

-------------------------------

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writinggross

Thought of a short story in the wasteless universe. Not 100% sure if it fully adheres to all the lore, but here goes…

Here I am waiting outside the dean's office. I got an email saying that he needed to meet with me immediately, but he didn't say why. I didn't really think much of it until he called me in and I was met with a terrible surprise. There were three chairs in front of his desk and Brandon and Nick were sitting in two of them. They are the two people I hate most in the world. They're star members of the college football team and it seemed like their personal mission was to make my college experience as miserable as possible. They bullied me nonstop and since they were athletes (and also because Brandon's dad was rich and donated a lot of money to the school), they were able to get away with pretty much anything.

Feeling very uneasy, I made my way over to the other chair in front of the dean's desk. He told me the reason I was there is because Brandon and Nick claimed they saw me cheating on an exam in class the other day. I tried to deny it, but it was their word against mine. Two against one. He said normally I would just get a 0 for the assignment and be put on probation, but apparently there's a cheating epidemic going on. He was seriously leaning towards suspension to make an example out of me.

I was freaking out and tried to protest, but Brandon interrupted. He said in his mind, that would be letting me off too easy. He knows his dad wouldn't want to continue to donate to a college with a cheating problem, so it would be in the dean's best interest to use me to really prove a point and discourage other students from cheating. The dean asked him what punishment he would suggest. Brandon pointed out that one of the volunteer toilets in the football locker room just quit and having me serve as the replacement would be the perfect punishment. I could tell the dean thought that was a bit harsh but, in the end, he agreed that having me serve as a toilet for the football team for a week would definitely send a message. Brandon laughed and said that a week was nowhere near long enough. In fact, he had spent some time thinking of the ideal parameters for my punishment.

First, my punishment would last for the entire remainder of the semester. Second, all other volunteer showers/toilets would be reassigned away from the football locker room: I was to be the sole personal shower/toilet for the entire football team. Third, I was to be kept inside a toilet stall in the locker room 24/7 for the duration of the punishment unless I was specifically needed to service the football team. Finally, if I tried to get out of the punishment or disobeyed any orders from Brandon or Nick, I would be expelled. The dean and I were completely shocked by how sadistic Brandon's plan was. I was so stunned that I couldn't even form the words to object. The dean did try to reason with Brandon, but the university couldn't afford to lose Brandon's dad as a donor, so reluctantly the dean signed off on the plan.

Brandon then ordered me to strip naked. I tried to refuse, but the dean reminded my that I would be expelled if I didn't listen. Once I was fully naked, Brandon handcuffed my hands behind my back and then he and Nick dragged me across campus to the locker room. Being paraded across campus naked was completely humiliating, especially since they made sure to stop multiple times and let people take pictures. When we got to the locker room, they brought me into an empty toilet stall and chained me to the wall so I wouldn't be able to escape. Then they attached a tube to my dick and a weird funnel looking device to my ass. They said that way I'd be able to go to the bathroom without making a mess. They both had massive grins on their faces. I asked them why they were doing this to me and the only reply I got is "because it's fun".

After that, Brandon decided it was time for the main event. He made a point of telling me he hadn't shit in three days in preparation for this. He started by pulling out his dick and told me to open my mouth. I didn't want to give in, but he grabbed one of my nipples and squeezed it as hard as he could. When I opened my mouth to scream he started pissing in it. The taste made me gag and I could feel some dribbling down the side of my mouth. He told me he'd give me a pass since it was my first time, but in the future any spillage would result in me being punished. Once he finished, he turned around and pulled down his pants and underwear. I thought he was gonna have me lie on the floor, but he ordered me to stay upright and arch my back. Then he sat on my face. I thought my back and neck were gonna snap from his weight. He told me if I did anything to cause him to fall off, I'd regret it.

He positioned his asshole over my nose and started releasing some rank farts. He made a comment about how his protein shake was hitting hard today which got a laugh from Nick. Finally, he shifted so his asshole was over my mouth. He told me to open wide. I tried refusing again, but a kick to the crotch quickly took care of that. Nothing could have prepared me for the taste of Brandon's shit. It was indescribable and made my tongue burn. I'm surprised I was able to take it all without puking. This ordeal lasted for at least 10 minutes. Brandon wanted to take his time and savor the experience and, as he'd mentioned, he'd been holding it in for a few days so he was really able to drag this out. Once he was done, he told me to lick his asshole clean.

He probably would have sat there longer if Nick didn't stop him. Apparently, Nick wanted to ensure that my first time was memorable so he took a laxative and was now about to burst. As soon as Brandon got up, Nick pushed me down to the ground so that I was lying on my back and then slammed his ass down onto my face. He used his weight to force my mouth open and basically created an airtight seal between his asshole and my mouth. Before I even had time to process any of that, liquid shit started exploding out of his ass. It was so sudden and loud that it even caught Brandon off guard. I struggled to keep up with it, but due to the seal Nick created with my mouth it was basically forced down my throat. I could hear Nick sigh with relief as he forced it all out, meanwhile I literally felt like I was drowning. At one point I puked and had to swallow it back down because there was nowhere else for it to go.

Once Nick finished and had his asshole licked clean, they decided to call it a night. But Brandon had one last surprise in store for me. He told me he wanted me to wash his lucky jockstrap for him. He reached into his bag and pulled out the most discolored and disgusting looking jockstrap I'd ever seen. He took great pleasure in telling me it has never been washed and then shoved it in my mouth. Then he taped my mouth shut and because "he didn't want me to get to used to fresh air", he took one of his cleats and tied it to my face with my nose shoved inside. With that, the two of them turned off the lights and left.

…

As you can imagine, being the only toilet for the entire football team was an extremely unpleasant experience. During practice/game days, there was always a seemingly neverending line of guys waiting to use me. If anyone didn't want to wait in line, they just went in a nearby bucket. At the end of each day, Brandon would shove a funnel in my mouth and dump in the contents of the bucket. And even when the locker room wasn't actively in use, guys would still come use me whenever they pleased. It wasn't just limited to toilet duties either. I was used as a washing machine, punching bag (my poor nuts), and a disposal for all matters of bodily fluids from loogies to snot rockets and more. Players also loved having me give them tongue baths, rim jobs, and blowjobs. One player who had a really bad foot odor issue really took pleasure in having me clean his feet with my tongue and making me eat his toe jam. There was also the constant mental struggle of being chained in a bathroom stall 24/7.

Brandon was definitely the worst though. He basically gave up on using any other bathroom. If he had to go during class, he would come to me. He would even walk over from his dorm in the middle of the night sometimes when he had to go. Whenever he used me, he always required me to be sitting up with my back arched which meant that my back and neck were pretty much constantly sore. And he made clear that for the rest of the semester he would not take a regular shower once and that my tongue would be the only thing cleaning his body. Sometimes, he would bring a small table into the stall and just sit on my face for hours doing school work or whatever while ripping ass as much as possible. He liked to do anything he could to make this as bad as possible for me. One time he even dumped an entire jar of fiber powder into the team's water cooler.

…

One day, I was really surprised to see Brandon appear with my older brother Tim. Tim lived nearby and since I went to college out of state and my parents couldn't visit often, he would come check on me periodically. Apparently he dropped by and was surprised that I wasn't in my dorm. He asked around and someone said that he could find me here. I thought for a brief moment that I might be saved until he started laughing. He said that growing up I was always the favorite child, so it's good to see that someone finally put me in my place. Brandon asked Tim if he had to go to the bathroom but Tim sarcastically replied that he could never do that to his brother. Brandon ordered me to beg Nick to use me and I had no choice but to do so. Of course it didn't take much convincing.

As Tim was sitting on me dumping his load, he told me that he was gonna report back to our parents and tell them I was really enjoying college. He would also text them from my phone periodically to let them know everything was good. That way there would be nothing stopping me from serving out the full duration of my punishment. Brandon then mentioned that they had an away game this coming weekend and invited Tim to come use me in the team's absence. Tim gladly agreed, sealing my fate with a massive fart…

Great story! It would be more lore-accurate if Brandon was the dean's son (you can get around any rules with enough corruption), but I'll forgive that because this is hot as shit. Fantastic job!

writinggross

Thought of a short story in the wasteless universe. Not 100% sure if it fully adheres to all the lore, but here goes…

…

Great story! It would be more lore-accurate if Brandon was the dean's son (you can get around any rules with enough corruption), but I'll forgive that because this is hot as shit. Fantastic job!

tparker48

(A fair warning, this story included heavy scat.) "Hurry up man, you're gonna be late for the departure. You Don't wanna miss out your trip

(This one took a little while, but here is the final installation for the Cameron and Csin story. In this one it follows Alric's perspective, the perfect way to experience the trip down under :p. I hope you all enjoy the story, and appreciate you all for waiting^^.)

A thousand feet in the air, the players sat in their chairs, eating snacks while the plane flew them to their destination. But in Alric's space, it was a far cry, the sound of the plane 's engine distorted by a dome of Cain rectal walls.

"We've been flying for hours, how has he not felt me yet!" Alric cursed.

A chunk of shit cushioned his pack, pushing him through its sludge like a push pop. Every inch he descended, the mush surrounding grew thick, the smell of digested milk and vanilla crackers plaguing the muscular tunnel. From beyond the walls, he heard a rattle as Cain floundered outside, the faint middle of staff squeezing past him.

He's moving? Did they land? He grimaced as he wiped gunk from the wall, laying his ears against it. The drumming beat of blood vessels, and the rubbery squeaks of muscle contracting muffled the outside world. He pushed harder against the tender flesh, and there he heard it.

A loud clank boomed from outside, along with..squeaking?

Suddenly the walls compressed, squeezing Alric and the surrounding turds like toothpaste in an empty packet. Loud plops erupted below, accompanied by a watery splash.

"No way, ain't way that's what I think it is." Alric told himself. But even he knew that wouldn't stop what was coming.

The muscular tube narrowed, rippling flesh hugging his sides as gravity pulled the digested contents down. A sudden crease punched through the mush at his feet, ensnaring them in its coils. The stools stuck to his body like melted suckers, clumping to his legs and feet as the walls squeezed closer. He writhed against their muddy restraints, but to no avail.

Wet squelches erupted below, and the earthy mass sank further.

“F..f..fuuck.” Cain's voice boomed through the muscular walls. "Aaa..that’s it. just slip out..”

Those words, it all confirmed his suspicion. As if being stuffed up his ass wasn’t enough humiliation, being part of the buzzard’s dumping session was ten times worse.

A wall of mush crumbled beneath his feet. It clung to his skin like a wet bag, absorbing his blows of resentment before looping back with a fierce clench. It stretched around him like taffy, it's mucus lessening his hold against its hide as he traveled deeper. The descending pile came to a startling halt, turds at his back flowing over shoulders as it pooled around his waist.

“Ugh, it's marinating my legs!” He shuddered at their warm touch, pushing against a stool spilling at his side.

A ripple traveled through the muscular tube, compacting the surrounding stools and merging them into clumped logs. A boulder-sized lump tackled his stomach, forcing him to inhale its putrid. He tried to relent its hold, but he couldn’t move his limbs, clumps of shit molding against them like shackles.

Amidst his struggling, pressure overtook one of his legs, a wall of muscle pinching his foot. It clamped hard as the funnel of flesh wobbled, stealing one of his shoes as lukewarm sludge drenched his socks.

"For the love of..!" he stamped his foot against the corner of the orifice, barely causing it to buck.

the sphincter puckered close, overtaking his feet. Its folds plucked at his toes like a fish nibbling on a piece of bread, tenderizing them into submission as it pulled them deeper.

“Stupid hole..let go” he stomped again.

The ring yawned for another load, scraping clumps of excrement from his thigh. As it stuffed the contents into the orifice, dimmed lighting came from its folds.

Just a few feet below laid a hill of Cain's digested contents, painting the steel walls with green slime as it crammed along the side of the bowl. To see such a mass fill the bowl, the hell did Cain eat at the airport?

The window to the outside narrowed as slime bled from the hole, mixing with the mountain of excrements. Slowly Alric’s grip lessened, the muscular lips cushioning his rear.

“Go back up damn it!” He cursed to himself, clawing the lumps above him.

Cain's groans intensified, the walls compacting the turds closer. The advancing wall of shit swept Alric across its clammy folds. Escorting him into the maw of the orifice as its folds vanished beyond the edges of hard stools.

"No..There's no way I'm going in that cesspool!" Alric said, heaving himself inwards to retreat back inside. Slowly he felt the turd slide back inside, the thunderous drums of Cain’s heartbeat once again welcoming his ears.

In that moment, the world shook, tossing Alric like a pin ball as he splattered against the fecal walls. Amidst the rumbling, A harmonic tune muffled from outside.

“This is your captain speaking, we’re experiencing some turbulence up to our north. Please keep your seat belts fastened and we’ll cruise through it in no time."

His stomach flipped as Cain's insides rattled. The pressure that kept him stable quickly began to wither, light blooming into the hole as the bowl came once more into view. The once still mountain was now a raging island, unraveling itself as it cluttered beneath itself like melted butter. Alric's heart dropped as gravity hooked its claws around his feet, the turd he found himself clinging to sliding out.

"N-no!" alric yelped, floundering his feet against the blubbery hides of the pucker. "Go back in, go back in."

His feet slipped and slid, struggling to gain purchase. With little choice, he dug his arms into the hardstool, burying them to his elbows. He heaved himself upwards, hooking his arms into the next stool above. Slowly the hole narrowed, his feet managing to snag against a fold.

“Yes! Yes! That’s it, a little further.” He climbed higher. “I just have to stay in here until we land, then I can wiggle out of him when he’s-”

Cain groaned as the walls compressed, clumps of shit locking around his elbows like shackles.

"N..no you don’t..” Cain said, his words gritting through his teeth. “Your place is in the toilet!”

Slowly the walls squeezed closer, the sphincter nibbling his toes before it yawned again.

“No no no!” Alric palmed against the muscular tube for leverage, but their surface began to change.

The wall stiffened, crevices of the surrounding stools now merging together. Their soggy surface wrapped around him like a cocoon, molding him into a giant ball until he could barely feel his own legs.

“Gotta get..it..into the hole.” Cain continued, green droplets splattering from the pile and into the hairs of his taint.

Alric struggled against his earthy restraints. "Cain no-!"

“Nice and easy..nice and..”

The walls shrank, tightening the contents in an iron grip. Slowly light began to fade, fecal matter ushering close. At this rate Cain’s gonna crush him at this state!

He pawed the surrounding wall for a way out, but its surface was too chunky to manage that. With little choice, he touched himself in a fetal position as the walls slammed together. His legs screamed for relief, his lungs aching for fresh air. But his earthy prison allowed neither, sealing him inside a bouldered dome.

Outside Cain hunched over, his body floundering along the walls of the cabin. Holding a palm against the toilet paper dispenser, He grabbed a handful of his rear, heaving at his stomach. As he stretched a cheek apart, the blockage that plagued his rectum moved, pushing out from his hole.

Slowly the turd slid forward, casting itself into the maw of the toilet. As it crashed upon the musty pile, it cracked open like an egg, Sending Alric tumbling down to the steel wall.

“Ugh, not a pleasant ride” Alric pawed his chin, hoping it would relieve the gritty sensation of matter between his teeth.

Spitting into the bowl, he looked ahead. He found himself upon the pile’s soggy surface, as it climbed to the edge of the steel wall. Above, the brown eye of Cameron rear end loomed overhead, Marbled sized turds reduced to smears between its clammy folds. Slowly it puffed out, releasing a foul smaug of gas. Its putrid gas gripped his nostrils, its heat robbing the tears from his eyes.

Slowly the hole closed with a sickening hiss, Cain releasing a moan. "Oh thank god..it's out!"

"What the hell was that?! Are you trying to suffocate me?!" Alric yelled at the player's ample flank. "Didn't you have the basic decency to at least check what was squirming in your ass?!"

No response. Cain lolled as he patted his stomach, remnants of gas bubbling from his pucker. A chime rang through the bathroom, the captain's soothed voice riding the roars of the plane.

"This is your captain speaking," They began, "we managed to find a clearing from the north winds and you will now be safe to move about the cabin."

Metal rattled from beyond the bowl, light shining through as Cain parted a leg. Slowly tissue descended between his legs, its white surfacing turning a shade of brown as it scooped across his cleft.

"And now the calm after the storm." Cain replied.

"Hey! Did you hear a single thing I just said?" Alric climbed up on the frowsty hill. "Get off your ass and get me out of this-!"

He was cut off as the tissue hurled back, Barely managing to duck as its stained surface grazed his back, before it was discarded to the bottom of the pile. His footing slipped from beneath him, and he clung to the backsack of his testicles. "Stop that! I'm still in-!"

Another row of tissue slinked between the player's legs, sliding from the crest of his crack as it glossed over his hole. As it reached the taint, it tackled Alric, scraping him from the sack as it slammed against the tender bed of Cain’s cleft. Flesh gummed around him, hairs spinning their webs around his limbs as bits of slime and fecal matter clumped into his hair. The tissue reached the horizon of the crack, before it too was discarded into the bowl.

"Glad I got that out my system.." Cain said. His flesh slid along the rim of the toilet seat, his mounds releasing their hold as they slammed together with a meaty clap.

Alric found himself buried once more in the pit of Cain’s cleft. Its tender walls gripped at his sides like the turds smeared between its hairs, tucking him against the tender eye that suckled at the crown of his head. He tried wriggling to the outside, but hairs tied themselves in knots around his limbs, stitching him to the ample mounds that wrestled for space.

Muffled beyond the walls, the sound of flight attendants muffled from the walls, along the distant hiss of air compressors erupting, and the wails of the passengers inside the plane. the mounds compressed as Cameron sat down, and another voice appeared.

"Dude!" Cameron said. "The hell is that smell?!"

"The milkshake, it wasn't too happy on the way out." Cain replied.

"Cain!" Alric called from the anal prison, sweat from the hole seeping into his eyes. "For God sake listen to me! Cain!"

About an hour had passed, the smell of burning rubber filling the space, the plane rattling before coming to a slow halt. With jerks and twists from the remaining voyage, Alric managed to snap his hairy restraints, wiping slime that plagued his face.

"Did they land already?" He said to himself, "being cramped like this is gonna give me a massive crick."

He turned on his side, pressure easing his torso as it molded against the left cheek. But that soothing moment was short lived, as Cain stood up. Outside, Cain followed the other players out of the plane, grabbing their bags. Every so often, he scooped a cheek into his palm, sending feedback through the muscular flesh as it crashed into Alric like waves.

"You're seriously getting a burger at a time like this?" Cameron said.

"Bite me! All I had were peanuts and pretzels on that flight. A man needs his grub!" Cain replied.

Alric gritted, pawing the tender flesh to get Cain’s attention. It was the seventh time he’s tried reaching the oaf, surely by now he’d notice him. In that moment, a layer of the player’s boxers punched the walls, a finger guiding it deeper. Wide eyed, Alric looked up. Did it work? Did it finally work?

As it came within reach, he stretched out a hand to grab ahold, but the finger swatted it away, jabbing against the asshole that puckered at his back.

"Freaking shits, always finding ways to irritate my ass" Cain swirled his finger around.

Alric wheezed beneath the fingers weight, its tip stirring him around like batter inside a barrel. Every jap sent him closer to orifice, crumbs of dried feces climbing into his hair. At the peak of Cain’s scratches, the hole yawned as the finger stamped against his head, blinding Alric as his face was wrapped in a blanket of the shit covered walls.

"If you're done playing with your ass, butt boy, we gotta meet the coach at baggage claims.” Cameron said. “So you better be taking your food to go."

"Fine, alright.” Cain groaned, the finger retreating. “I already got a stick up my ass already, I don't need a bigger one nagging me on."

As the finger retracted, Alric palmed the tender orifice. Its suction popped his ears as it suckled around his neck, jerking him around as the players continued to walk. Soon, the coach's voice approached, barking orders to the rest of the team, the purrs of a bus rumbling the muscle surrounding him. His stomach hurled as Cain hurled his weight back, the hole bearing down on his shoulders like a compressor.

The drive felt like an eternity, Alric forcing himself to breath the frowsty air. Ever so often, Cain stretched a check, his fingers prodded at his body as he attempted to ease his unbeknownst itch, but gave up as he slammed back down. After an hour of driving, the mountainous rear squeaked as the bus came to a halt, and began to move.

Cain’s rear hurled as he carried his luggage through the lobby, the bulk of his cheeks taking turns squashing Alric against their hide. They softened when a Metal door opened, the clang of a zipper streaking the air before vanishing behind a thud.

For hours he was forced to endure their chats, drawing into the distant evening. Ever so often Cain's rear shifted, dandruff cluttering cleft fluttering as gas escaped from past his neck, its warm gas plagued the already tainted space, its foul odor gripping his nostrils, before slithering through the ample mounds.

"Finally got your stomach to calm down, Cain?" Cameron muffled in the distance.

"You kidding me? This itch is still plaguing since the airport." Cain tightened his rear, sandwiching Alric between his muscular prison. "Still feel a little bit bubbling in there, but nothing a little fuming can't fix."

"Not in here you're not. Already had enough of your stink bomb on the plane."

"It's not my fault, I really had to go. Besides, don't think I didn't see you going off in a hurry to the bathroom."

"Only to find your shit cluttering it. can still feel pieces pinched in there…hey what are you-"

Cain's weight hurled, jerking Alric against the tender walls. Gas shimmered before the mounds caved inwards, wrapping him in a dome of doughy flesh. The heck were they doing out there?

"Oops, sorry, didn't see ya over the sight of me toppling you." Cain snickered, rocking himself atop of Cameron. "Not bad, you actually make for a pretty good seat."

"Not on your life."

The world shifted again, Alric hurling upwards. Beyond the world of Cain's rear, the two players tousled around the twin mattress of their hotel room, their grunts and groans rivaling the cheering crowd from the TV screen. With a loud thud, Cameron tackled Cain to the bed.

The muscular mounds smashed up on the mattress, flinging Alric into the embrace of the mush cluttering the hole. He tried fighting the gummy folds, pieces of crap clumping his hair like gum.

another thud bucked the surrounding muscle,and Alric found his head ejected from the diphoning hole. But his obtained freedom was short lived, as Cain’s weight flipped and crashed atop of him.

"Gotcha bitch!" Cain mused, "told ya you were a good seat."

"Your ass is way too big to be lofting around! Get off me!" Cameron said.

"Me? Too big to loft my ass around? Please."

The world throbbed beneath Cain's weight, the player rocking atop of Cameron. Gas hissed past Alric's ears, each thrust sending puffs of digested spices through his nostrils.

"Give me a fucking break!" Alric muted weakly, gritting beneath the weight of the two players.

Outside, Cameron pawed at Cameron's thigh, hoping to push the blundering oaf from his stomach. But his palms gained no purchase, slipping from the flap of his briefs.

"Man you really are backed up there, you almost feel like a whoopy cushion."

"The more reason for you to get off" Cameron gritted.

"Why let it stew inside! let that shit loose!"

"Let it loose! I can't let it out, I'll stink up the place."

"Don't you mean, we?"

“We?” Alric puzzled, gravity flipping as he cushioned against the hole.

Slowly Cain began to adjust, fingers parting both mounds as light seeped through. Beyond the red screen of the underwear, a lamp shined along a dresser, illuminating Cameron who sat along the bed. Cain's cleft yawned wider, the flimsy layer crowning Alric's head.

"What are you getting at, you goof?" Cameron asked.

"Come on, it's not rocket science. You're gassy, I'm gassy, wouldn't it be good to just let it all loose."

Alric felt his heart sink into his stomach. Let it loose? He can barely stand mere simmers of Cain's flatulence, adding Cameron's would be overkill. He pried against his restraints, mucus coating his feet as they slipped across the surrounding muscle.

"Are you forgetting we're in a hotel? The cleaning crew will have a fit if we stink up the room."

"Then we're just gonna have to minimize the smell."

Light vanished as Cain’s mounds clapped together, gyrating over Alric as the player shifted in the world beyond. One of the mounds cushioned at his back, the sound of sheets muffling outside. gyrated as climbing beneath the covers of the mattress. Soon Cain’s fingers returned, splaying the ample mounds apart. The orifice clenched, and gas cracked through the space like thunder, catapulting Alric from their hold.

He tumbled across a wooled surface, palming his face. "Again with nose?!"

As he rubbed to ease his burning sinus, he turned his watered eyes ahead. He found himself in a cave of white sheets, light barely piercing through the ceiling. From behind, Cain’s rear loomed overhead, fingers still gripping a cheek as bubbles fluttered from his hole.

"You seriously kept that in you?" Cameron said.

"You expect me to let it loose in front of the boys, I'd never hear the end of it." Cain said.

"I guess you have a point there. Fuck it, I'll bite."

A corner of the sheets launched to the air, a new set of toned legs cushioning the mattress. As fingers yanked the skin tight briefs from its hide, it slid across the mattress towards Alric as they glide to the bottom of head of the bed. Alric booked for the front of the bed, the space between the two thinning as it gained ground. He barely made it past the edge of his left nut, as he was snagged against Cameron’s lower thigh.

Cain's bubbled rear rushed from the other side, colliding as he was sandwiched between the two player’s. It was like being trapped in a jar of gelatin, flesh rubbing against flesh as their mounds wrestled over the other. Alric tried separating them for a chance to breathe, but their surfaces were as hard as gym mats.

Both holes quivered, before gas punched their way to the outside. Their ripe aroma burned his nose hairs, his body shriveling like paper.

"How's that for letting loose?" Cameron said.

"Come on, you could do better than that.” Cain chimed. “I've heard better farts during my protein diets."

"Is that so? Then I guess I'll have to prove you wrong."

Alric gritted as their muscles tightened, rolling his against the walls of their mounds. He couldn’t believe that this is how he turned up, from being stuffed up one of their asses to now being smudged around like some piece of lint. A mound scooped at his back, smothering him against the other cheek.

Alric palmed weakly against the walls. "It's too much..I have to get out of here!"

He pawed though the darkness, flashes of light twinkling into his prison like sun beams before being snuffed out. Every step he took was met with a rippling wave of one of the cheeks, forcing him to his feet. A pillowy cheek flopped overhead, forcing him to his back against one of their holes. Its gummy flesh yawned, coiling around his own rear.

"I can't move."

"Bro!" Cain's voice muffled from outside, the hole's clench forcing Alric to wheeze. "You seriously rubbing one of your turds on me?"

"Turd?! I'm not a-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Cain" Cameron said. "Unlike you I'm empty."

Alric tried wriggling his rear free, but the hole refused to relent. Light punched his prison as the rear above shifted, its crinkly eye casting its judgement over him.

"Is that right?” Cain mused. “ Then you can have it then."

His muscular prison morphed as Cains rear rose of over Cameron’s, his mounds spilling atop of them like liquid inside a lava lamp. The orifice that gummed his rear flipped, pinning Alric against one Cameron’s cheeks.

“No you idiots! I’m not a turd!” Alric tried to yell, gritting against flesh as he slid dryly across Cameron’s cheek.

"The hell you keep it? it came from your ass!" Cameron said.

"We're sharing farts aren't we? “ Cain said. “What's a little turd between teammates?"

The muscular walls hardened as the two bickered, sending Alric in a whirlpool of compressing flesh. Slowly the hole parted from his rear as the other bloomed from a fold of flesh, barely grazing his face as Slime and sweat washed secreted his skin.

He had thought he was in the clear, until a cheek slipped between their muscular valley, forcing him to slide across their oily walls and into the spider web of one of the sphincters. He sprawled his limbs to catch himself, the puffy orifices trapping him in a capsule of flesh. wrinkly folds pinched his fingers, as gas spewed into his chest.

Alric wriggled against their hold. “Gotta..get..of this”

"Ugh, it feels so slimy?" Cameron said.

"You won't make space if your so tight like a clam, Cameron" Cain mused. "It seems you need a little..nudge."

“You first.”

The ass at his legs flipped as he turned upside down, slamming down as it cushioned over Alric.

“Hey! What are doing?!” Cain yelled.

“Returning the packet to its sender.” Cameron replied.

A jolt suddenly came from the cheeks surrounding him, followed by a series of dry squelches. light punched from the corner of his eyes, and there he saw it, a finger parting the waves of flesh. As it burrowed deeper, he looked to the undulating bed beneath him, and he grew pale.

“No, No not agai-!”.

"There!" Cameron rubbed his fingers along his teammate's orifice, wiping slime into the hairy mounds of flesh. "that wasn't so hard was it?"

Cain sprawled against his stomach, his body quivering as the unbeknownst turd pulled deeper. "Tell that to the ass you just force fed."

"Ay, you're the one that started this whole butt war, I just finished it."

"Yeah whatever" Cain rolled from the bed. "I'm going to take a shit."

Cain waddled from the room and into the hallway. Hent his legs as the turd climbed higher, molding against his inside like a piece of gum. As he reached the bathroom, he crashed onto the stool, and tightened his body. His walls rippled around the turd, and slowly pushed down. Every inch it gained, Cain's toes curled.

"Did he give me a hard stool? It's like I'm shitting out a doll!" He clenched his stomach harder, wiping sweat that seeped into his eyes. "Come on you piece of shit, come out."

His anus rippled, watery plops trickled from the bowl. Slowly the turd skidded against the ring, weighing his rear into the mouth of the stool as he strained. Hunched over, Cain fumbled for a piece of tissue, and lowered it into the bowl.

Slowly the ring yawned, and fecal matter clumped against the tissue. He couldn't put his finger on it, but its texture was rigid the longer he prodded. He squeezed his haunches to send it to the bowl, but strained as it lodged against his bum.

"Come on you..come out!"

Just then, thunderous knocks erupted from the door, and Cain tightened. In an instant the turd retracted, vanishing into the meaty funnel as it pinched the tissue between its folds.

"Ay, you finished in there?" Cameron yelled. "I gotta take a piss!"

"Why didn't you say that before I got in here?!"

"I didn't have to go then! Now I do!"

"Unbelievable.." Cain muttered under his breath, pulling the bits of tissue from his anus.

Slowly he focused inward, the turd climbing itself deeper as it curled against the rectal walls. It brought certain fullness inside him, wobbling around like a bird nestling into its nest. Its descent was too deep to shit out now, great. Now he's gotta carry it until it gets to his hole again.

He reached for his underwear as he began to stand, but felt the cold touch of the porcelain seat beneath him. His cock stiffened against the edge, lifting itself to the air. He gazed at his throbbing appendage for a moment, before letting out a sigh.

"He's lucky I'm getting hard."

guywhowatches

A dream come true (Side effects included)

You couldn't believe your luck, getting signed up for the school football team. Admittedly, it wasn't a sport you were fantastic at, as you weren't really built for it physically, but you figured you could teach yourself and hopefully improve down the line. Besides, that wasn't even the real reason you were joining. All you really cared about was getting closer with the hot, perfect looking members of the team, especially the captain: Jason. You felt yourself so flustered for words every time you saw him play on the field or even walk past you in the hallway, and now was your chance to get up close and personal with him for real.

gayguygas

Smell of the ex

Shay is one of my best friends and is a proud femme sugar baby.

Shay lives in a huge Victorian house and is constantly hosting lavish parties.

Today, he’s hosting an extravagant pool party. It’s catered and everything.

I decided to bring my new boyfriend, Nick. Nick is… nice. He may not be flashy, but he is dependable.

We arrive with carry-bags containing our swimming gear.

Shay opens the door, and unsurprisingly, he’s already tipsy. He subtly rolls his eyes when he spots Nick. I'm getting used to this. All my friends think Nick is a bore. Nick is the quiet, shy type who’d rather blend into the background.

Once Shay lets us in, he pulls me to the side to give me a private warning.

“Please don’t be mad, but I invited him too. He’s also my friend.”

Before I can ask who, I see Him. All he is wearing are a small pair of black swimming trunks.

I try not to openly stare at his long, hairy, powerful legs, his sculpted porcelain skin, and his lickable rock-hard abs and pecs. And I just know from behind it looks like he has two coconuts packed in the back of his trunks.

It’s my ex, Mark.

We were a couple for six years. I loved him; I thought he was the one. And then he just vanished. While I was at work, he moved out, taking all his things with him. He completely ghosted me. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong.

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Mark. I deserve someone whom I can trust, and that just so happens to be Nick.

Mark has the nerve to smile when he sees me. Shay makes his escape.

When Mark walks up to me, I link my hand with Nick, making a statement.

At first, Mark looks hurt, then he seems irritated.

Behind Mark, I see his three closest friends standing there. Like Mark, they’re built like himbo jocks.

Jamal, Yun, and Zack. They’ve always been nice to me.

I catch Jamal checking out Nick. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Mark gives me an appreciative once-over with his eyes. “Hey Gavin, it's really good to see you.” He says suggestively with a sexy half-grin.

I give him a curt nod with my lips pressed thin. “Mark.”

Mark smiles at Nick, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, bro, I’m Mark.” He offers his hand for a shake.

I panic, I know what Mark is planning, but it’s too late.

Nick shakes his hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Nick.”

Not missing a beat, Mark tosses a leg over their joined hands. With a powerful tug, Mark pulls Nick’s arm between his legs, causing Nick to fall to his knees, and reels him forward.

Nick falls face-first against Mark's fat, pillowy ass. Mark’s meaty orbs muffle Nick’s noises of surprise.

“Howdy Nick, say hi to my big, farting booty… NGH”

RRRRRHHHHHHBBBBBBTTTTTT

Mark farts point-blank in Nick’s face. Mark and his friends are laughing at Nick.

I swallow loudly. Mark is well aware of my farting fetish and is using it against me.

Nick tries to pull away, causing Mark to pull harder on his arm, making Nick’s face sink deeper into Mark’s ample backside.

“Haha, hold on now, my booty ain’t done with its introductions.”

BBBBBLLLLLAAAAAPPPPP

Mark blasts Nick’s face with another trumpeting fart.

Mark finally lets Nick go, allowing the eggy stench of his fart to spread throughout the entrance area. It’s both noxious and intoxicating, as I remember.

Mark’s friends are laughing again.

Nick slumps over, gagging and coughing. I get on my knees and rub Nick’s back in comfort.

With me on my knees and Mark standing and facing away from me, Mark doesn’t resist seizing the opportunity.

He swivels his hips and arches his back, jutting his bubbly mounds into my face.

“It’s been so long since my booty last talked to you, Gav. It wants to say hello.”

FFFFFWWWWW-UUUUUDDDDDD

Mark pushes out two consecutive and strong farts. They have enough force to make his doughy cheeks ripple and to rustle my hair.

My eyes sting, and I start coughing as the stench of rotten eggs and spices assaults my nose. Mark isn’t an idiot; he knows what he’s doing. He’s doing this to arouse me. And dammit, it’s working.

Mark and his jock bros are howling with laughter as they walk away. I can’t help but watch Mark’s ass in those form-fitting trunks. His brawny glutes flex and bounce with his every step.

After a minute, I help Nick up. Nick looks utterly humiliated.

I’m both annoyed and turned on. That was hot, but Nick doesn’t deserve this.

I immediately catch on that there’s something off about this party. Normally, Shay’s parties are bangers, filled with dozens of people. But there can’t be more than 10 people. And that’s including Nick, me, Mark, his friends, and Shay himself.

Nick is still coughing, so I sit him on a couch and go fetch him a glass of water from the kitchen.

I grab a clean glass out of the cabinet and go to fill it with the refrigerator's water dispenser.

As I begin, a voice startles me.

“Shay was right, that Nick guy is boring as hell.”

I look over my shoulder and see Mark posted against the wall with his bulging arms crossed.

“He’s not boring, he’s dependable.” I retort, “He won’t just disappear and ghost me like somebody else I know.” I comment, before turning back to my current task.

I thought that my words would have angered him, but Mark laughs. I then hear the slapping of bare feet against the floor as he nears me.

I nearly drop the cup when Mark wraps his strong arms around my chest, pulling my back against his cobblestone-like abs and chest.

He hooks his chin over my shoulder and softly croons. “You're not fooling me, Gav. I know he doesn’t make you happy like I did.”

Mark takes my chin in between his thumb and index finger, and turns my face towards his. Are noses are almost touching.

“Does he take care of your needs? Needs like this.” Mark swallows a mouthful of air. After a moment, Mark opens his mouth wide, right in front of my face.

BBBBUUUURRRRPPPP

Mark belches loudly right in my face, spraying me with his spittle. I groan as the smell of bile and spoiled milk hits my nose.

He then puckers his lips and blows the residual gas into my face.

Mark laughs again, knowing he’s rattling me.

I shudder as I feel his lips grazing my ear. His deep voice softly rumbles in my ear.

“This is how things are gonna play out: my farts are either gonna kill Nick or chase him off. By the end of the night, I’ll be sitting on your face and force-feeding you more Mark Missiles than you can handle. That's a promise.”

He doesn’t call his farts Mark Missiles for nothing. I’m well aware of how devastating they can be.

“That’s not going to happen,” I mutter, unconvincingly.

“Oh really?”

He turns my face towards his again, making me watch him swallow another mouthful of air.

BBBUUURRRPPP… blow

“Is he as nasty as me?”

BBBUUURRRPPP… blow

“Is he as gassy as me?”

BBBUUURRRPPP… blow

“Can he take down a whole bar of men with his farts, to keep you safe like I can?”

I whimper at that. I’ve jerked off more times than I can count, to that memory.

Mark and I accidentally stumbled into a bar that wasn’t gay friendly. Things looked like they were about to get violent. Mark spun around and pulled down the back of his jeans, mooning everyone in the establishment. Mark immediately started cranking out one beefy fart after another. In under a minute, all of our would-be attackers were unconscious on the ground.

I close my eyes, trying to shut the memory and Mark’s words out of my head.

“Nick is good for me.”

Mark releases me, chuckling. “Are you sure? Could he ever give you this?”

A moment later, I feel a big, warm, firm yet malleable object pressing against my lower back.

FFFFFVVVVVRRRRRDDDDD

“Ah, my big, farting booty and I will be seeing you and Nick very soon, Gav.”

With that, Mark departs. Right behind him are those meaty globes bouncing and wobbling like twin Jell-O molds.

I’m left alone in a thick fart cloud that reeks of digested meat.

I eventually return to Nick, who’s still sitting on the couch. I hand him the glass of water and sit next to him.

“I’m really sorry about Mark, Nick.”

Nick takes a sip of water and nods once, “It’s alright.”

I’m about to say something when I spot movement out of the corner of my eye. I notice Mark standing behind the couch, right behind Nick, with his back towards him.

Mark bends over, extending out his big ass, and making contact with the back of Nick’s head.

Mark’s eyes connect with mine. He scrunches up his face in concentration.

BBBBBMMMMMUUUUUTTTTT

VVVVVWWWWWAAAAADDDDD

FFFFFDDDDDOOOOOMMMMM

Mark rips 3 back-to-back, tuba-sounding farts on the back of Nick’s head.

Mark's noxious fumes quickly envelop the couch. It has my face reddening, and puts Nick into a coughing fit.

Mark pulls his butt away from the back of Nick’s head and is laughing along with his entourage.

“Will you stop picking on him, Mark?” I huff in annoyance.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Mark rounds the couch, in either of his hands are two small and fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres placed on napkins.

“Here,” Mark offers one to Nick. “To show I’m sorry.”

Nick gives a quick little smile before popping the hors d'oeuvre into his mouth.

At first, I think Mark’s being genuine, but then I notice him biting his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. And the rest of his bros are doing the same.

As soon as Nick swallows it and thanks Mark, the four of them break out into hysterical laughter, driven to tears.

Mark points at Nick, while staring at me, teary-eyed, still laughing his ass off. “Haha, fucking gross, Gav. This loser just ate something I farted on and liked it, haha.”

Once Mark calms down, he shoots Nick an impish grin. “Well, if you like that one so much, then have another.”

Mark brings the remaining hors d'oeuvre behind him self and right in front of his bulbous posterior.

PPPPPLLLLLAAAAARRRRR

Mark seasons the treat with his butt funk, straight from his bioweapon of an ass.

It all happens faster than I can react. Jamal steps up from behind and holds Nick’s head still. With his free hand, Mark pinches Nick’s nose closed. Nick’s mouth instinctively falls open, and Mark pops the farted-on hors d’oeuvre inside.

Mark quickly spins around and plants the overpacked backside of his trunks on Nick’s open-mouthed face, smothering him.

“How about we wash that damn with a big, warm glass of my farts… NGH”

VVVVVVVVVVHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

Mark rips a growling fart into Nick’s open mouth. My eyes are transfixed on the small lump traveling down Nick’s throat.

Once Mark frees Nick from his ass, Nick is dry-heaving. Mark and his bros are laughing like it is the funniest thing they have ever seen.

I’ve never felt so horrified/ turned on. My hands curl into fists on my lap to hide my growing problem.

“Mark-” I start to admonish him, but Mark cuts me off.

“No need to be jealous, Gav, I got you.” He looks behind me and calls, “Yo, Zack, hors d’oeuvre me.”

A hors d’oeuvre is tossed from somewhere behind me, and Mark catches it out of the air.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he brings the finger food behind his ass. He narrows his eyes and…

FFFFFGGGGGHHHHHTTTTT

Staring slack-jawed is both a blessing and a curse on my part.

Mark shoves the finger food into my mouth and quickly follows it up by parking his fat dumper onto my face.

RRRRRBBBBBVVVVVDDDDD

Mark vents a chainsaw-sounding fart into my mouth. His butt bomb has enough force to jettison the tainted hors d’oeuvre down my gullet, almost making me choke.

Mark’s ass vapors inflate my cheeks and coat the inside of my mouth. The acrid taste has me curling forward, retching. I do this purposely to hide my arousal.

“Mark, will you stop?” I haggardly rasp.

With a devilish grin, Mark says, “Sure, I’ll stop.”

Jamal, Yun, and Zack are not only built like Mark, they sport huge bubble butts and are just as gassy as he is.

Mark’s bros partake in the fun. With them behind the couch, they take a page out of Mark’s playbook.

Yun’s ass suddenly pops out from behind, to the left side of my face. Zack’s ass extends out from the right side of Nick’s face. And Jamal’s ass juts out from between our faces. Simultaneously…

BBBBWWWWTTTTPPPP

RRRRFFFFMMMMDDDD

VVVVOOOOHHHHFFFF

The air around Nick’s and my head is poisoned with several different brands of fetid ass gas.

The three fan the air behind their asses toward our noses, and snickering while they do it.

Still standing in front of us, Mark spins around, “Now I’m starting to feel left out and that just ain’t fair. Get some of this.” He hikes up his right leg.

BBBBBRRRRRUUUUUFFFFF

Mark pushes out a quack-sounding fart that ends on a wet note. His skunky wind re-dominates the area, making Nick and me gag and cough even more.

The four of them make for the exit laughing and high-fiving, leaving the room thoroughly butt-nuked.

It takes Nick a few minutes to regain himself. I’m fine, on the other hand. My years with Mark have granted me a resistance against the stench. I’m more pressed about making my arousal less conspicuous.

Nick is once again mortified.

We decided to go change into our swim gear and hit the pool.

Guest rooms in the back of the house are the designated changing rooms for pool parties here.

On our way, we run into Mark and his crew coming the opposite way. They’re walking down the hall in a row.

Going by Mark’s lopsided grin, things are gonna get good for me and bad for Nick.

Before passing us, Mark says, “Choo-choo, boys, the fart trains left the station.”

As Mark passes us, he twists his hip and farts on Nick and me.

FFFFFDDDDDMMMMMMRRRRR

We are sprayed with his ass gas that stinks of raw sewage and garlic.

Jamal is walking right behind Mark. It’s his turn. He swivels his hips and farts on us next.

MMMMWWWWVVVVPPPP

Next is Yun.

BBBBAAAAFFFFDDDD

Finishing us off is Zack.

VVVVRRRR-PPPPBBBB

After taking their four-pronged, gassy drive-by, Nick is gagging again. I’m feeling like I’m gonna lose my mind.

I give Nick a comforting smile. “Nick, go change into your swim trunks. I’m gonna go talk to my ex, and stop this foolishness.”

I can see the worry in his eyes, but he gives me a hesitant nod.

Nick continues down the hall; I turn around to catch up with the line of big-butted hunks.

With Zack in the back, he looks over his shoulder and spots me coming.

With a cocky grin, he calls. “Looks like we have another fart train heading out for departure, boys.”

Zack starts it off this time. He twists his hips and blasts me.

BBBBMMMMDDDDTTTT

Next is Yun.

RRRRWWWWUUUUBBBB

Then Jamal.

VVVVTTTTOOOOFFFF

This is like my personalized wet dream come true, but I ignore it.

Before Mark can fart on me, I grab him by the shoulder and pull him into a nearby bathroom, alone. I lock the door behind us.

With a toothy grin, Mark spins around and presses his bubble butt against my hip. “You know me, baby. I’m not skipping my turn. All aboard… GGH”

BBBBBRRRRR-FFFFFHHHHH-AAAAAPPPPPP

Mark rips a chain of farts on me. It reeks of Mark’s personal brand of eggy butt funk.

Mark flashes me a victorious grin after noticing I’m hard.

“Don’t call me baby, Mark. I’m with Nick now.”

This causes Mark’s grin to broaden. “For now, but we both know that your face and my booty are the ultimate dream couple.” He finishes with a shit-eating grin.”

I stop avoiding the elephant in the room. “Why did you completely vanish from me?”

That wipes the smirk off his face.

“Did I make you feel unsafe? Or did you grow out of our fart kink? Did it become too gross for you?” I press.

Mark remains quiet for a full minute. At first, I don’t think he’s gonna answer me, but finally, “Gavin, before I left, I was unemployed for a year, while you kept getting promotions. You were supporting us both comfortably. A mutual friend of ours got into my head and convinced me that you were too good for me, so I left.”

This hits me like a freight train, and I start to get mad on Mark’s behalf. Before I can ask who this friend was, Mark gives me a lopsided grin and says, “Don’t worry.” Mark turns to the side, giving me a profile view of himself. He reaches back, cups his right butt cheek, and gives it a jiggle. “My booty recently had strong words for his face.”

Mark then lifts his right leg slightly and poots.

I laugh and blush.

“I’ve been working on myself over the past year, Gavin. I’ve worked on my self-confidence, and I’ve got a good-paying job.

Gavin, we have always been perfect for each other. We have the same tastes, we can talk for hours and hours about nothing in particular, and still have fun. And you're the only one who can stand my non-stop farting ass.” He says, making us both laugh.

With half-lidded eyes and a sultry voice, Mark says, “And you're the only person I’ve met who enjoys taking my farts almost as much as I enjoy farting on them.”

I am severely conflicted. I believe that Mark has changed. I want to reunite with him; we’ve always been happy together.

But then there’s Nick.

“Mark, I-I still love you, b-but I-I can’t. Nick-”

My stuttering excuse does nothing to deter Mark’s smile. “Losing you isn't an option for me, so I gotta play dirty. And you know me, baby, I play very dirty.”

Before I know it, Mark pushes me down onto my knees, sandwiching me with the door against my back and his generous bulge right in my face.

Mark turns around, his black trunks-clad, bountiful bum dominates my entire field of view. Without missing a beat. He quickly grips the waistband of the back of his trunks and pulls them down.

His pillowy moons pour out of their confines and bounce out into the open. My mouth practically salivates as I eyeball his pale, mountainous orbs covered in a dusting of black hair.

A year ago, I was gifted with this mouth-watering view every night, and I miss it so much.

My nose is only inches away from his sweaty crack. The smell of manly ass musk and chlorine fills my nostrils.

“In you go.”

Mark thrusts his hips back, slamming his titanic rear end into my face. I find myself trapped with the back of my head pinned against the door, and my face entombed between his fleshy globes.

PPPPPBBBBBHHHHHVVVVV

“There, that dirty enough for ya?” FART “Oh yeah, you know you love it.” FART “My booty is the only thing that can fulfill your Mark Missile addiction.” FART “Having trouble breathing down there? Maybe this will help.” FART “You deserve better than that wimpy little Nick.” FART “You deserve me, a literal farting god… NGH”

FFFFFFAAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTT

Mark pumps out fart after fart, point-blank in my face, poisoning my lungs with his toxic intestinal vapors.

I’m moments away from shooting when Mark suddenly stops. He takes a few steps forward, releasing my face from his ass. I blink rapidly from being reintroduced to light. I look up, making eye contact with Mark, who’s watching me over his shoulder.

“Why did you stop?” I whine.

“Only my boyfriends are treated to my Mark Missiles on demand. It’s either Nick or my fat, gassy booty. Choose wisely.” Mark gives me an ultimatum and pulls his trunks back up.

Mark slides me aside, away from the door, so he can leave.

As Mark walks out, at the last second, he twists his hips, aiming his blimp of a posterior at my face.

BBBBBFFFFFVVVVVPPPPP

Mark blasts my face with a noxious, nose-hair-burning fart.

“Ah, take that. A reminder of what’s on the line."

He closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

I pull myself out of my jeans and grab some tissue. With a few strokes, I unload into the tissue.

After flushing away the evidence, I feel both guilty and more resolute about what I’ve got to do. I know I have to break up with Nick, but I hate that I’m going to hurt him.

As soon as I leave the bathroom, I run into a living brick wall covered in caramel skin. It’s Jamal.

“You good?” He asks, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, feeling confused. We’ve rarely talked alone.

A guilty expression washes over Jamal’s face. “Look, I want to apologize for the shit we’ve been putting Nick and you through.” Jamal wipes his hand down his face, “Shit, we’ve been acting like the bullies we were in high school. It was all Mark’s idea.”

Jamal looks from left to right and lowers his voice before continuing. “He’s probably gonna sit on my face and keep farting until I pass out for me telling you this, but Mark still loves you.”

I don’t know why, but I reply honestly, “I love him too, but Nick doesn’t deserve me just ditching him. And everyone disregards him as quiet and boring.”

I wasn’t expecting Jamal to flash me a cheeky smirk. “Oh, there’s no need to feel guilty about Nick. I’ve had eyes on him since the moment you two walked in. I, for one, love the quiet ones. The quiet ones are always the freakiest.” He waggles his eyebrows before walking off, leaving me stunned.

I blink a couple of times, taking in what Jamal just said. Nick? Freaky? I can hardly comprehend such a concept.

But I am grateful for being unburdened with the guilt. I know Jamal is a good and faithful guy. He will treat Nick right.

With a clear head, I go out to the pool in the back.

I spot Shay completely drunk and passed out on a nearby lounge chair.

Nick is standing on the other side of the pool, looking miserable and uncomfortable.

Jamal and Mark are standing on either side of Nick, facing away from him. Nick’s boxed in between their bubble butts.

Jamal is talking with Zack, and Mark is talking with Yun. While they talk as if everything is normal, Mark and Jamal keep farting on Nick. And these weren’t little poots, they were big, trumpeting farts.

BBBBBFFFFFRRRRRPPPPP

VVVVVHHHHHWWWWWFFFFF

RRRRRUUUUU-MMMMMTTTTT

PPPPPMMMMMAAAAABBBBB

FFFFFOOOOODDDDDMMMMM

BBBBBVVVVVAAAAARRRRR

Every time Nick takes a few steps away, Jamal and Mark follow suit, boxing Nick back in between their two gassy asses.

FFFFFAAAAAOOOOOPPPPP

PPPPPUUUUUHHHHHDDDDD

MMMMMFFFFF-PPPPPTTTTT

VVVVVOOOOOWWWWWFFFFF

For the first time today, I don’t feel annoyed at them fart-bullying Nick. Instead, I’m feeling jealous of Nick. I want to be in his place.

I walk up to Mark, catching him off guard. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. Everyone goes quiet, watching in shock.

Kissing Mark feels perfect; kissing him feels like everything is right with the world.

When I pull away, I can feel myself smiling. Mark is smiling too, but we aren’t the only ones. So are Jamal, Zack, and Yun. However, Nick's look of betrayal is heartbreaking.

Before I can say anything, Jamal lifts Nick and fireman-carries him over his shoulder. “Since you’re no longer spoken for, you’re mine now, cutie.”

Jamal carries Nick off. Mark, Yun, Zack, and I watch slackjawed as they disappear inside. Shay doesn’t; he’s still blackout drunk.

We remain silent, staring at the now-empty doorway in shock for quite a while.

Like deja vu, I yelp. Mark hefts me onto his shoulder; it’s my turn to get fireman-carried.

“Ha, knew you couldn’t resist me. Glad to have you as mine again.” Mark declares triumphantly and carries me inside like a caveman.

If his friends replied, I didn’t hear them. I was too busy watching his upside-down bubbly globes in motion. With his stride, his fat cheeks jiggle and clap right in my face.

Once we're inside, Mark carries me upstairs.

During parties, Shay allows people to occupy the guest rooms upstairs.

As we ascend the stairs, Mark’s quiet, but his ass, which is right in my face, isn’t.

PPBBTT, FFHHBB, RRBBDD, MMWWFF, VVUURR

When we reach the second floor, Mark sets me on my feet, grinning at me sultrily.

Mark’s sporting a huge boner in his trunks, just like me. He takes me by the hand and we try for the first guestroom. When Mark opens the door, we find that the room is occupied.

Jamal’s trunks are down, pooled around his feet, and he’s bent over, bracing his hands on the bed.

Nick is on his knees, right behind him, with his face buried deep between Jamal’s big, caramel cheeks.

Jamal is groaning with pleasure. “Oh, there you go, baby. Eat my nasty, farting hole.”

BBBBBFFFFFTTTTTDDDDD

Mark quickly and quietly closes the door so we don’t interrupt anything.

“Wow, I wasn’t really expecting that. But that was hot as hell.” I blurt out, not really thinking.

A devilish grin stretches across Mark’s lips. “Oh, is that right? How about we have our own nasty fun?” He huskily groans, sending shivers down my spine.

I’m unable to speak, so I nod my head. He leads me down the hall and tries another door. Success. It’s empty.

Once we’re inside and the door is locked behind us, Mark lays me out on my back on the bed.

I lift my head, watching Mark standing in front of the foot of the bed. He unties his trunks, letting them fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing pole and hairy, plum-sized bull balls.

Mark climbs into the bed; he’s not playing around, and I appreciate that.

Mark crawls up and kneels over my head. He spreads his knees wide on the mattress, lowering himself down and taking a seat on my upturned face.

My face disappears between his fleshy, round cheeks.

“Lips on hole, fart-eater.” I hear Mark’s voice rumble above me.

Mark wiggles his ass from side to side, getting comfortable on my face. Soon enough, I feel his sweaty hole kissing my lips.

I don’t even need to be told, I stick out my tongue, rimming Mark, thrusting my tongue into his pucker, tasting him.

I feel Mark’s huge body shudder with pleasure while he’s seated on my face.

“Damn, baby, I’ve missed your magical tongue so much. You must be desperate for my Mark Missiles. Well, I aim to please… GGH”

I feel Mark’s hole open and push outward around my tongue and against my lips.

FFFFFWWWWWPPPPPBBBBB

Mark launches a noxious-smelling butt bomb into my open mouth, inflating my cheeks with his ass wind.

The raunchy stench of raw sewage and spices brings tears to my eyes, but also works me up into a frenzy. I start lapping at his hole like a madman.

“That’s it, you crazy fucker, eat my sweaty shit-hole. Earn every single one of my nasty Mark Missiles… HGH”

MMMMMRRRRRAAAAAPPPPP

PPPPPLLLLLUUUUURRRRR

“MMM, more tongue, Gav. My big booty’s orders. What it says, goes… FGH”

RRRRRWWWWW-UUUUUOOOOO-HHHHHBBBBB

“Fuck yeah, baby, keep putting a smile on big Mark’s face and my booty will keep lighting your face up with Mark Missiles… GHH”

PPPPPDDDDDMMMMMVVVVV

FFFFFBBBBBAAAAARRRRR

BBBBBVVVVVOOOOOTTTTT

“Get comfortable, sweetheart, you're going to be servicing my cornhole for a while… GGHH”

RRRRRAAAAAWWWWWDDDDD-FFFFFHHHHHUUUUUVVVVV-BBBBBTTTTTLLLLLPPPPP

“But we both know you’re not gonna complain. After all, my booty is the gift that keeps on giving… FGH”

VVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRR

“And giving… NGH”

FFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP

“And giving… UGH”

BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTT

gayguygas

Smell of ending a friendship

This is a sequel to Smell of an old friend

NICK’S POV

I still can’t believe Robbie chose that loser, Drew, over me last night. Thankfully he pulled his head out of his ass and called me later that night to apologize and asked me to come back over today. I'm definitely going to make Robbie work for my forgiveness.

I knocked on his door, and Robbie immediately opened it. He’s still shirtless and wearing the same pajama bottoms from last night.

With a guilty smile, he invites me in. Once I step inside, he shuts the door and tosses an arm over my shoulder as we head deeper into his place.

“Nick, man, I’m sorry about last night,” he apologizes.

I scoff, “Whatever, where’s your bitchy, loser of a girlfriend.” I taunt.

For a second, I think I see a glimmer of rage in his face, but with another glance, it’s gone. Probably just a trick of the eye.

“He’s upstairs; he’s still staying with us for the week. But after hanging out with him for an hour, man, you’re right; he is a total loser. I kicked his ass to the curb and told him to not bug you or me when we hangout.”

I’m grinning like a loon as we stop in the living room. I slap him on the back, proud of him. “There’s my bro that I know and love. Good to have you back. You were acting fucked up, last night.”

Robbie gives a meek shrug, and then we hear a small thump behind us. We both look over our shoulders and see Robbie’s phone on the carpet.

“Shit, I dropped my phone. Hey Nick, can you get that for me?”

“Sure, I got you,” I say as I kneel to pick up his phone. As soon as my fingers clasp his phone. Something big, bulbous, and warm covers the entire right side of my face. Startled, I turn my head, accidentally covering my entire face with the large, mysterious object.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRWWWWWWWPPPPPPPPP

A loud explosion goes off in my face, and the stench of rotten eggs and broccoli invades my nose. I’m immediately clued in that Robbie’s big ass is in my face and he just blasted me with a noxious Robbie Rocket.

I fall onto my ass, with my back against the wall, coughing on Robbie’s toxic fumes, filling my lungs.

“Man, Nick, I can’t believe you’re so fuckin’ gullible. To come on over, thinking I wanted to apologize to you. And then for you to fall for the oldest trick in the book, to get your face near my ass. You made so many mistakes, and now it’s time to pay the price, old friend. I’m about to launch.”

While still coughing on the ground, I open my stinging eyes to a horrific sight. Robbie’s bent over at the waist, with his knees slightly bent, aligning his mountainous rump on height level with my face. Before I can scream ‘NO’, Robbie quickly backs up, smashing his meaty mounds into my face.

I can’t see anything, I can only feel ass meat rubbing from left to right and up to down, all over my face. Robbie comes to a stop, and I feel his glutes flex.

RRRRRFFFFFFLLLLLLPPPPPP-BBBBBBBMMMMOOOODDDDDD

Two long and consecutive, airy farts are launched in my face. Their eggy stench has me gagging.

Robbie starts shimmying his plump booty again, taking my pinned face along for the ride.

“Nighty-night, my former bud. And sorry to say, but when you wake up, things are going to be much worse… HGH”

PPPPPPPPPWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB

RRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDD

MMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMM

Robbie launches a barrage of nasty butt rockets point-blank up my nose. They stink of raw sewage and Robbie’s pungent musk. It overwhelms me, and I find myself blacking out.

LATER

I groan as I come to. I try to move my arms but can’t; I try the same thing with my legs, but they are also a no-go. My eyes shoot open, and I take in that I’m in Robbie’s room, lying on his bed. I look at my limbs in horror, seeing that they are tied to the four bedposts of Robbie’s bed. I’m trapped, starfished on his mattress.

“About time you woke up,” a voice says.

I look up and see Robbie posted against his closed door. His arms are folded, and he’s wearing a lopsided grin.

“What the fuck man? Let me out! I’m your fucking best friend!” I yell at him.

Still grinning, Robbie starts walking towards the bed.

“Come on, Nicky, you’re not that stupid. Haven’t you realized it yet? I’ve chosen Drew over you. Drew and I are gonna be tight as brothers again. And you? You’re shit outta luck.” Robbie’s words hurt and anger me.

“How can you choose that friendless loser over me, dumbass?” I seethe.

Robbie’s grin falls, and he narrows his eyes at me. “Last night, you nearly got Drew to hate me. And I come to learn that you’ve been talking shit to his face, when I wasn’t looking. You’ve done fucked up Nick because you made me mad. And you know what that means. My ass is declaring war on your face.” Robbie growls as he steps up to the bed.

I look up at Robbie, fearfully, making him smirk devilishly.

Robbie climbs onto the bed, straddling my chest backwards, and says, “Remember last year when that nerd snitched on us for cheating on our test? After we lured him into your place, we tied him up in your bed and I farted in his face for hours. Well, now it’s your turn, Nick, hehe.”

Robbie squats his bubble butt less than a foot above my face. It looks like the stitching of the seat of his pants is barely holding together in containing his watermelon-sized globes.

“Please Robbie,” I beg, but he ignores it.

WHUMP

I groan as Robbie drops his big ass on top of my face, burying it under his heavy, thick mounds.

“I’m locked and loaded, Nick. This is war. It’s time to launch… GGH”

BBBBBBWWWWWWWOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM

Robbie farts in my face, big time, making me gag on his skunky vapors. Robbie suddenly lifts his ass off of my face and I gasp for some untainted, cool air. As I take a breath, Robbie slams his ass down on my face, and farts into my open mouth.

FFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDPPPPPPPP

Robbie keeps doing the same routine for some time, torturing me.

Up, WHUMP… BBBBBBBBBFFFFFFLLLLLLLRRRRRR

Up, WHUMP… RRRRRRRRVVVVVVVWWWWTTTTTTTT

Up, WHUMP… MMMMMMRRRRRRROOOOPPPPPPPP

Up, WHUMP… FFFFFFFRRRRRRRAAAAAABBBBBB

After his last fart, instead of getting up, he presses his bubble butt down hard, crushing my face. I can’t breathe at all as he does this, so I start to struggle.

From above, I hear him say, “Hang on, Nick, I feel a big one coming down the pipeline. Oh, here it comes… NGH. Ah, there, it’s out to launch.”

It doesn’t make a sound, but I feel a stream of hot air vent out and warm the tip of my nose. I suddenly start thrashing and dry-heaving as I get a sniff of his silent ass wind. Robbie’s sbd’s could be classified as bioweapons. The vile stench of digested meat and sulfur ravages my lungs.

Robbie eases off of my face forcing me to breathe in all of his putrid butt fumes.

“Not to toot my own horn, pun intended, but that was pretty good, wasn’t it?” Robbie asks, sounding cocky.

I’m too busy dying to answer.

“Oh, quit being so dramatic, here, maybe this palate cleanser will help,” Robbie says with his ass hovering just above my face.

I frown, knowing nothing good is about to happen. I’m proven right as I watch Robbie pull down the back of his slacks. His bubble butt pours out of its confines and I now have his bare, fuzzy, slightly sweaty, twin moons lording only inches above my face.

“Give my ass crack a little lick. That should help.” He suggests.

“Fuck off.” I bark, scared and disgusted as hell.

Robbie laughs, causing his beefy mountains to wobble above my face.

“Hehe, that wasn’t a request, Nicky. I’d get to licking if I were you. You don’t want me to launch a Robbie Rocket, bare-ass, in your face do ya?” He sing-songs.

“N-no,” I answer.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Taste me.” Robbie taunts me by swaying his hips, making his bulbous cheeks jiggle and clap above me.

I lift my head and stick my tongue out. I shiver as my tongue meets his sweaty crack; the salty, acrid taste is repulsive.

Before I can react, Robbie reaches down and spreads open his cheeks, showing off his equally sweaty pucker.

He slams his ass down on my face, entombing my head in between his brawny cheeks. What’s worse is that his asshole is pressed into my open mouth and I can’t close it.

“Haha, I can’t believe you’re this fucking gullible. I just wanted to launch into your open mouth, dumbass.”

I fearfully whimper as I feel his hole open and push outward.

“Oh yeah you should be scared, you fuck, because I’m about to launch like mad… NGH”

BBBBBBFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRDDDDDDD

PPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAMMMMMMM

MMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR

Robbie keeps launching one gnarly fart after another, inflating my cheeks and lungs with his noxious wind. It seems like his farts have no end and I’m feeling sicker by the second.

“Open wide, Nicky. I’m sending a big care package down your gullet. HGH… Bombs away… NGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Robbie launches a 25 second butt rocket into my open mouth, making me smell and taste his raunchy, nauseating vapors. It stinks of rotten fish and sulfur. It’s too much and I pass out as his monstrous fart comes to an end.

This isn’t right, we were best friends only a few hours ago; this shouldn’t be happening to me. That’s my last thought before everything goes black.

LATER

When I regain consciousness, the first thing I hear is Nintendo’s mascot character, Mario, yelling, ‘WHAA-HOO!’

That’s followed by two voices talking.

“Man, this is weird.”

“Why? We’re just two dudes playing Mario Kart.”

“You’re excluding the fact that you’re practically naked with your bare-ass in a tied-up guy’s face.” The other voice dryly adds.

I give a muffled groan, feeling my body’s movement has been even more restricted than before. I open my eyes and immediately see why. I’m still in Robbie’s bed, lying on my back, but bound up with several long pieces of duct tape.

My hands, ankles, thighs, and knees are wrapped together, and my arms are bound to my sides, all with duct tape.

If that wasn’t enough, Robbie is lying on top of me. His ass is facing me as he lies on my stomach, on top of my body, with his head near my knees. And it gets worse, all he’s wearing is a jockstrap. So his bare, bubbly rump is aimed right at my face.

Although his upper body is lying down, Robbie’s on his knees and pushing his ass out towards my face. Because of this, I can see his fuzz-surrounded, sweaty, and winking hole.

Drew is sitting at the end of the bed as the two play Mario Kart.

Drew looks back at me, and I try to yell, ‘Make him stop,’ but all I get out is a muffled yell, surprising me. Drew quickly looks back at the screen, and I realize that my mouth is duct tape shut. Also, I feel cloth material filling my mouth, and its taste is rank and vile.

Robbie looks back at me, over his shoulder, with a cheeky grin. Hours ago, that grin made me laugh, telling me he was about to launch a Robbie Rocket in a nerd’s face. Now it fills me with unease.

“Hey man, how does my crusty, unwashed jockstrap taste?” Robbie asks.

I give a muffled groan, now knowing what disgusting thing is defiling my mouth.

“Hold that thought, buddy, I gotta launch… GGH”

I watch in horror as his pucker opens and presses out, a few feet from my face.

MMMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR

I’m blasted in the face with a trumpeting 6 second fart that is powerful enough to blow back my hair. It stinks of rotten eggs and onions, and has my eyes stinging.

Both Drew and I groan simultaneously. “Come on, man, you using your Robbie Rockets as we play is so unfair,” Drew complains, making Robbie laugh.

“Haha, no it’s not because this time I have a victim in front of my ass that’ll be forced to sniff up the brunt of my butt fumes.” Robbie follows that with…

BBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPP

Drew winces, “Oh damn, that’s bad Robbie.”

“Oh come on, you should be used to your best friend’s nasty butt rockets,” Robbie replies with a sly grin.

It’s humiliating that they’re just chilling and talking, while Robbie’s torturing me with his farts. I give a muffled yell, trying to get their attention.

I get Robbie’s attention, and it isn’t good. Robbie looks back at me, annoyed.

He shouts two words at me. Punctuating each one with a fart in my face.

“SHUT!… RGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFMMMMMMMMMMMMVVVVVVVVVVBBBBBBB

“UP!… HGGH”

VVVVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP

His toxic butt vapors poisoning my lungs, has me coughing. Robbie shoots me a nasty sneer, while Drew does his best not to look at me.

Robbie gives Drew a genuine grin. “Think about it, Drew. Even though you’ll have to play while I hotbox the room with my farts, I’ll be playing two games at once. I’ll be playing Mario Kart with you, and my booty will be playing a generic first-person-shooter with Nick’s face. See, it’s perfectly fair.”

Robbie shoots me a quick, nasty smirk as he rocks his hips, making his meaty moons ripple in front of my face.

Drew snickers, “Heh, when you put it like that, I guess it is fair.”

Robbie’s smirk grows a little more devilish. “Since you agree that it’s fair, how about we make a little bet?”

Drew looks intrigued. “What kinda bet we talking here?”

“We play a grand prix, and if I win, we’re best friends again.”

“You can’t just declare that we’re best friends again. It doesn’t work like that, Robbie.” Drew corrects.

Undeterred, Robbie continues grinning like he’s got all the power. In a way, he does.

Drew sighs in defeat and relents. “And what do I get if I win?”

“Then I’ll never dutch-oven you again.”

Drew frowns, “I’ll be sleeping back in my place within a week, so all I’m winning is a few days of no dutch-ovens.”

Robbie grins knowingly. “With you living next door and us being friends again, nothing is stopping me from climbing into your room at night, and waking you up with a surprise dutch-oven.”

Drew turns pale and goes slack-jawed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Robbie doesn’t say anything. He just grins and…

RRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBB

Robbie launches an eggy butt rocket in my face that wrecks me.

“Shit, I guess I’ve got no choice,” Drew says mostly to himself.

They proceed to play, all the while Robbie continuously rips massive Robbie Rockets in my face and taunts me.

“This red shell is for you, Drew, and this brown one's for you, Nick… GGH”

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWTTTTTTTTTTT

“Damn, I hate b-bombs! Don’t you agree, Nick?... FGH”

MMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLLLHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPP

“Ha, that's one win for me. My farting and gaming skills are unmatched… NGH”

FFFFFFFAAAAAA-PPPPPPLLLLLL-BBBBBBRRRRRRR

“Hell Yeah! Eat my dust, Drew! And you eat this, Nick… HGH”

PPPPPPPPPPVVVVVVVVVVUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBB

“I’m about to launch a power-up and Robbie Rocket at the same time, I’m hella talented… GGH”

RRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWFFFFFFFFFF

“There’s my second win. Let’s commemorate it with a two-fer… FGH”

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRR-HHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTT

“Heads-up, Nick, here comes a real-life blue shell… GHH”

MMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPP

“Shh-ssh, both of you, be quiet and listen. This is gonna be even bigger… UGH”

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRR

“There’s my third win. Bro, I’m owning you. And my ass is owning you, Nick… RGH”

PPPPPPPPPPAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBB

“My thrusters are really roaring back there, Nick. I wonder if you’ll still have eyebrows when I’m done… GGH”

FFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPVVVVVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDD

“How unfortunate. Drew hitting me with a green shell really angered my ass and it’s about to take it out on you Nick. I’m about to launch… NGH”

RRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTT

“Fuck Yeah! I won first place in all four races. You know what that means, Drew? We’re best friends again. Let me celebrate by launching Robbie Rocket fireworks.”

BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT

30 minutes. For the past 30 minutes Robbie’s been farting in my face non-stop. His last Robbie Rocket was the worst. It was 55 seconds long, and strong enough to blow back my hair and make his bubbly orbs flap.

The horrendous stench of raw sewage and sweaty hole is all I can breathe in, and it has my lungs feeling like they’re on fire. I’m a coughing and gagging mess. My eyes and nose are dripping.

Through my teary eyes, I can see Robbie grinning at Drew. “You know what this means? Good game, best friend.”

Drew sighs, “A deal is a deal. But our friendship is on a probationary basis.”

Robbie flinches as if he’s been hit, looking surprised. “What?”

Drew looks Robbie in the eyes. “Robbie, please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all you’ve done.”

Why do I have to be here while they have this heart-to-heart talk? Why do I have to be here with Robbie’s bare bubble butt right in my face?

“You’ve got years of ignoring me and making fun of me behind my back to make up for.” Drew looks back at my hell torn face and flashes a small smirk, “But so far, you're doing a good job.”

Robbie looks over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Hear that, buddy, we’re doing a good job.” I'm confused about why he’s thanking me. Robbie’s grin turns devilish when his eyes connect with mine. “Oh, I was thanking my ass. But you, you’re more than welcome to choke on this. I’m about to launch… NGH”

FFFFAAAARRRRTTTT

Robbie launches a short but loud-quacking rocket in my face. I turn and cough on his sulfuric vapors.

Drew groans, but I can hear the mirth in his tone. “Damn, Robbie that one was foul, even for you.”

“Haha, don’t blame me; it was all this big guy.” Robbie slaps his mountainous backside, making his cheeks wobble like bowls of gelatin. I cringe in disgust at the sight happening inches from my face.

“You and your butt are both at fault,” Drew starts as he stands up, “Since we’re rekindling our friendship, I’m using my right to get the hell out of here and return to the guest room. You fart-boxed your room something awful, man.”

Drew heads for the door. I thank whatever higher power is listening when Robbie gets his ass out of my face and off the bed. He rushes over and pins Drew, with his back against the wall, before he can leave. Robbie rotates his hips, pressing his butt against a restrained Drew’s side.

“Hold on, pal, you can’t escape without a complimentary Robbie Rocket. I’m about to launch… GGH”

FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVDDDDDDDD

Robbie blasts Drew’s body with a raunchy, 6 second fart.

“So freaking gross,” Drew mutters with a grimace.

“Ah, hold on, bro, hold on. I got another one ready for launch… FGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRMMMMMMMM

Robbie launches another greasy one onto Drew, making him groan.

Watching the two of them is heartbreaking. That was Robbie and me, not even 24 hours ago. The two of us the best of friends, Robbie constantly and playfully fucking with me with his farts, and Drew just a loser of a footnote in our lives. But now, Drew’s and my roles have reversed. Robbie and Drew are now tight as thieves, or at least working up to that, and I’m the butt of the joke, literally.

“Ew man, it may have been years since we last been close, but you’re still nasty as ever, Robbie.” Drew gripes after Robbie finally lets him go.

“Oh, that's how you want to be? Then take this,” Robbie spins around and bends over, aiming his butt at the open door Drew his walking towards.

PPPPPPPVVVVVVVUUUUUUUUBBBBBB

Robbie fires off a bubbly fart into the door way that Drew has to walk through. Drew coughs and gags as he wades through his noxious fumes.

“Look at you, willingly walking through my shitty fart cloud. Who’s the nasty one now?” Robbie teases, a cheeky grin stretches across his lips as he wafts the air behind his ass towards Drew.

“You’re such an asshole,” Drew calls out as he stumbles into the freedom of the hallway. How I wish I could join him in the hallway and walk myself out of this hellish nightmare.

“I love you, too, fart-face. That insult will become completely true when I launch a surprise Robbie Rocket into your face later tonight. And you’ll never know when it’s coming.” Robbie sing-songs before slamming the door. I hear Drew groaning in despair through the wood.

Speaking of despair, that’s what I feel in the pit of my stomach. I’m alone in a room, bound, with a gassy Robbie, who’s only in a jockstrap.

Robbie turns to me. His grin broadens into a more toothy and dangerous one. And the malicious glint I see shining in his eyes sends a shiver up my spine. He starts prowling towards me, tied up on the bed, like a sleek predator.

“Nicky, Nicky, Nicky,” Robbie shakes his head, “You know how angry I get with assholes who mess with people I care for. Hell, you should remember the shit I’ve done to people who fucked with you.”

I’m hit with warm nostalgia as I think about such a time last year. Some dude was spreading rumors about me. In the cafeteria in front of ¼ of the school, while the guy was eating lunch, Robbie pulled up his pants, giving himself a slight wedgie. Robbie stuck his big butt in the guy’s face and ripped a huge fart.

“Nick, you went too far last night. You should’ve known this would happen.” Robbie gets onto the bed and stands up, and starts walking up my body, “You’ve been fucking with Drew behind my back. You snitched, telling Drew all the bullshit I said about him in the past, even though you know I didn’t mean it. You nearly derailed my attempt to mend my most important friendship.” Robbie stops when his feet are planted on either side of my shoulders. “Since last night, my stomach has been brewing up so much gas in rage. My butt is desperate to waterboard you with my butt funk. Any last words?”

“Please, Robbie, I was doing right by you. Being friends with that loser would make you a loser by association. I was helping you.” I desperately plead my case.

In a rare and frightening change, Robbie isn’t smiling. He looks stoic, and the air is thick with his lingering farts and his fury.

“Well, congrats, “Robbie turns around. Towering high, over my face is his bare, protruding globes framed perfectly by the straps of his jock. “In helping me, you helped yourself to this...”

Robbie pulls his legs out from beneath him, his huge rump comes crashing down onto my face. His doughy moons smother my pain-filled grunt. It feels like two asteroids, covered in flesh, crash-landed on my face.

My head feels like it’s being flattened by so much ass fat and muscle. Most of my face is being squeezed in the sweaty, musky valley between his pillowy orbs.

I hear Robbie’s voice rumbling from above me, “Hey Nicky, it might be dark in my ass, but I have some news that will brighten the situation. All this time, I’ve been taking pics and videos of you’re face all up in my big gassy ass. I’m going to be sending it to everyone at school. You’re gonna be famous, my former friend.” Robbie congratulates with a mock cheer.

This is when I break. I start crying with my face still swallowed up by his big butt. Straight up bawling. I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could have just been friends with Drew. The three of us could’ve been a tight-knit crew. But now, I’m going to be the lonely loser. My life is going to be ruined, and it is all my fault.

“Oh, no need to cry, Nicky. I’ve brewed up another one of your favorites.” FART “Oh yeah, breathe that in.” FART “Robbie Rockets are the only air you’re gonna get for a long while.” FART “Damn I’m a nasty bastard, haha.” FART “Buckle up my former best friend, NGH… I’ll be launching all night long… UGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

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