Writing Your Wildest Dreams & Worst Nightmares

I write smut. The best smut. $5 a page. Specialty is filth and domination.

[smut-head]

A Walk In The Park

6 page Commission for Simplify6

The park was aflutter with activity, a warm and sunny day bringing out every Pokémon far and wide to enjoy the refreshing weather. Shelby was among them, the bottom-heavy Floatzel basking in the sun as she strolled through the park populated with joggers and picnicking couples. So engrossed in the shining sun and gorgeous evergreens, Shelby hardly noticed as she walked into what felt like a brick wall. Backward she tumbled, falling right on her big, plush behind and rubbing her head, dazed.

“Hey! Watch it!” The enormous Ursaring growled as he whipped around to see who was bothering him on his day of attempted relaxation. He towered over the seated Shelby his anger shifting slightly toward amusement. “Oh it’s just you,” Roland smirked, sticking his enormous paws on his equally large hips. “If I didn’t know any better little Floatzel, I’d save you couldn’t get enough of my ass.” A deep and dark chuckle escaped the Ursaring’s maw, nearby bystanders sharing a laugh and making notice of the public humiliation.

“No! That’s not it at all!” Shelby attempted to defend herself. She was doing a rather horrible job at it unfortunately, blushing deep red at the shaming taunts Roland hurled at her. “Maybe if your ass wasn’t so big, I wouldn’t walk into it!” Shelby wasn’t really helping herself despite her thinking, the Floatzel just making the massive Ursaring angrier and drawing more attention with the back and forth shouting.

“You’re one to talk fat ass,” Roland barked back, the two sparing verbally until Floatzel’s lackluster language attack hit a new low. “Yeah, well you smell bad!” The large bear’s angry scowl twisted into a grin, a clear sign even to the naïve Floatzel that her words had backfired. Roland didn’t need words to respond, his stomach roaring violently gave both of them warning for what would transpire.

Shelby’s eyes widened, still seated on the dirt path as she tried desperately to crawl away. “Where do you think you’re going?!” The bear thundered, several booming steps all he needed to catch up to her, grasping her head to hold the Floatzel in place. Roland grunted, his stomach’s rumbling getting noisier, not able to hold back his flatus much longer as he turned around, fully exposing those two enormous, brown-furred buttcheeks to the panicking female he held. He huffed with pleasure, of both release and the knowing humiliation of another, as a sputtering blast of rancid fumes hit his captive face-first. “Yeah I bet that smells real bad. But you already knew that before I farted.”

The smaller of the two gagged and gasped for fresher air with desperation, those who were watching and tempted to intervene staying far away now. The smell alone from the Ursaring was foul enough to drive away any potential do-gooder to poor Shelby’s cause. She had to sit there and suffer through a nauseating bear fart, her eyes watering and nostrils slightly inflamed. And this was only the first one.

Roland loosened his grip, confident that his initial guff was strong enough to stun Shelby and keep her in place, quickly proven correct in his assertion. Floatzel flopped on her back, coughing up the fumes that were practically shot down her nose and mouth, Roland standing over her, tapping the side of her with his enormous paw. “Get up, you! I’m not through with you yet. I wanted a calm, relaxing walk through the park today but your nonsense has me all wound up now.” He explained, the Floatzel below barely processing his words. “And I’m going to still get it. But instead of walking, you’re going to carry me.”

Shelby heard that much, looking at him, exasperated. “You can’t really expect me to hold your weight.” She whimpered, not a dig at his size despite the aggressive Ursaring taking it that way. “Well I could just crush you into paste with all this weight and let someone peel you from the dirt. Your choice.” He snarled in his booming, deep voice, watching with satisfaction as the Floatzel wearily got to all fours, with what onlookers were left pointing and laughing at her predicament.

The overwhelmingly huge Ursaring wasted no time, taking a seat with his fat ass on Floatzel’s back, her arms and legs turned to noodles as she nearly collapsed from his weight. “Oh goodness,” she whimpered, using every bit of energy to hold up the much bigger bear on top of her, crawling one step at a time and moving at a snail’s pace. Roland didn’t make it any easier on poor Shelby, grinding himself back and forth on her, his asscheeks jiggling as they smeared his sweat and ass juices into her back-fur.

“Keep going until I say where to stop. Hmmmm…” Roland pondered for a moment, trying to decide the best destination for what he was planning next. As he thought, he let his bowels free, his asshole pulsing and pushing against Floatzel’s fur, the poor girl able to feel the puckering bear anus. Not one to waste time or hold back his gruesome flatus, the lumbering bear grunted out a wet and sloppy sounding fart, a short yet ripe cloud that not only super-heated Shelby’s back but surrounded her in a cloud of choking stink. “Whew! Stinks even from up here,” the Ursaring tauned. “Good thing I have some fur to soak these up, I imagine they might smell even worse without it.”

At the moment poor Floatzel couldn’t imagine Roland’s flatus stinking much worse, her head spun as the voluminous, warm cloud of his tailpipe fumes followed her with every step. The brutish Ursaring pointed toward a solitary bench just a few feet away “There.” He ordered without much context, Shelby satisfied that the painful ride she had given this oaf was nearly over. Her arms were practically jello by the time the two go to the bench, Floatzel collapsing in a fit of exhaustion once the Ursaring removed his overwhelming weight from her back. The big bear huffed with satisfaction, giving his play-thing a moment to herself as he positioned himself on the bench.

Roland sat back on the bench, the wood creaking obnoxiously from the hefty weight that was thrown onto it all at once. “Heh, hear that Floatz? Sounds like your back makes a better seat than this bench,” he taunted. Laughing deeply, the goliath bear shimmied himself forward, leaning back on the bench, and allowing his generously round and bubbly buttcheeks to hang off the edge of them. Roland’s smirk could hardly get larger, nodding toward Shelby as she looked up and saw what his foul intentions were, a look of dread painted across her face. “Don’t even think about trying to escape again,” Roland rumbled.

Floatzel wobbled to her knees, crawling on all fours toward the smelly Ursaring that wanted nothing more than for the chubby Pokémon to reek of his flatulence. Now in front of the mighty bear’s bare butt, Shelby sniffed at the dank, heavy butt musk that rolled off the Ursaring’s behind in such massive quantities. It was terrible, worse than the brute farting on her back, getting exceeding awful once Roland reaching a giant paw forward to grasp the back of Shelby’s head and pushing her between those swampy buttcheeks, without a single thought for her own well-being.

“Ahhhhh fuck. This is the life.” The deep-voiced bear taunted, relaxing on the warm day, on a park bench with his favorite little Floatzel jammed between his asscheeks. “How’s it smelling down there Floatzel? A little worse than the scent of summer pines I bet.” He laughed at his own stupid joke, rubbing her face up and down, soaking her facefur in the disgusting stickiness and odor of his sour buttmusk.

Shelby gagged quietly to herself as she endured this humiliating torment, her entire world consisting of Roland’s bubble butt, generous quantities of ass grinding on her face, the only thing she could feel. She could only see blackness, buried in so much butt that opening her eyes would only serve to burn them slightly with the acrid butt sweat that would inevitably drip into them. Floatzel could only hear two things, not sure which she hated more; the internal rumblings of the bear’s deadly bowels or the demeaning taunts he threw at her without effort. All she could taste, when she foolishly opened her mouth to draw in breath, was the thick and vile musk and left-over flatus of her Ursaring tormentor, realizing her best chance of remaining conscious in this situation was to breathe through her nose. That of course meant that the only thing she could smell was the potent, overwhelmingly foul ass-stink that rolled off Roland’s enormous buttcheeks and puckering tailhole. Her cool nose flush with the Ursaring’s tailring ensured she didn’t miss a single pucker, a single escape of fresh and rank ass fumes.  

Roland didn’t bother to warn his butt slave about his impending brew of disgusting Ursaring flatus. Not that it mattered, as with her face so deep between the bear’s cheeks, Shelby could tell the monstrous Pokemon was getting ready to cut one. She braced herself the best she could, holding her breath and steeling herself for the overwhelming heat and smell that would soon assault her. She waited and waited, twenty whole seconds before she gasped out deeply, all the time she could stand without giving her lungs “fresh” breath. Then he did it, the cruel bear unloading a deep and meaty stinkbomb into Floatzel’s awaiting lungs, filling them up with Ursaring stink.

“Don’t worry Floatz, I got plenty of air for ya!”

Shelby could hardly withstand the first revolting bear fart, gagging on the fetid stink while Roland laughed at her torment. The smell was thick and rich, in the worst way possible. It snuck into every orifice, but especially burned at her nostrils. Tinted with bear butt stink, Shelby tried to tell herself it wasn’t that bad. But she could hardly keep telling herself such a total lie, every breath making her chubby body quake with disgust, the hefty Ursaring guff hanging heavily in the air, almost refusing to dissipate.

Even more onlookers than before had stopped to stare and gawk, most finding it funny even if a bit childish and/or disgusting. “Looks like you got an audience.” The bear huffed with glee, lifting a single giant leg to give his anus more freedom to let rip. On cue, a comically loud and deep fart bellowed out of Roland’s stinkhole, giving his impromptu audience something to really laugh at. Even those who found the display somewhat repulsive admitted to themselves that that last fart was pretty funny.

Shelby meanwhile cursed herself for being so clumsy and oblivious as to have crashed into the massive behind of Roland in the first place. Although, it was hard to think too hard when a giant bear butt was spewing hot and fresh flatulence down one’s nostrils. The most recent bomb was about as fetid and voluminous as the last, forcing the female Floatzel to choke it down, filling her lungs up with more and more of the big male Ursaring’s gas instead of the oxygen she craved.

“Hey, sniff a little better down there!” Roland growled, grasping the back of Shelby’s head again, using it to mop up the sweat and fart stench that she had missed. “Those farts are nasty, you think I wanna smell ‘em?”

Roland kept this up a bit longer, his stomach still gurgling quite threateningly, as Shelby could attest to, but the massive Ursaring held back, preferring to let the vile batch of flatus brew longer before he unloaded them on his new fart rag. Satisfied with how much of his vile stench Shelby had soaked up via her nose and facefur, Roland released her head, letting the exhausted, fart-drenched Floatzel nearly pass out on the dirt and grass that she landed on. Roland stood up from the bench, cracking his back and idly scratching at his big behind, bringing his hand up to his face to sniff. “Whew! Damn I sure am ripe today. Glad I’m not you.” The sadistic bear chuckled, grabbing Shelby by her neck fluff and hoisting her up to her feet.

“C’mon now, your duty isn’t done yet. Roland’s still got some nice gas brewing in here for ya,” he taunted, rubbing his chubby stomach and smirking. “Ya don’t gotta carry me, I don’t wanna kill you after all, but you’re going to follow on all fours over to that tree.” The Ursaring pointed to a massive, thick Oak that must’ve been hundreds of years old. “Hurry up now, no dilly-dallying.”

Shelby weakly crawled behind the Ursaring, following Roland as his massive, stomping steps led them over to the tree where fewer people were. Even if there was a crowd, they’d likely thin out sooner rather than later with what Roland had in store. Left, right, left, right, the Floatzel’s walk followed the same pattern on her death march to the tree. What the bear in front of her had in store was beyond belief. For now, she focused on concentrated breathing, relishing that she was getting semi-fresh air, dampened by the bare butt that was in front of her, but still better than a steamy fart burning at her nostrils. Still, she could barely avert her eyes from the twin titanic cheeks in front of her, jiggling and bouncing off each other with every step, quite the view for any passersby. If only they knew the true potency of the cheeks, like Shelby did.

“Good. Glad to see you haven’t run off.” Roland snickered as the pair reached the tree, looking over his shoulder at the tired-looking Floatzel. “It wouldn’t have been good for you if you tried.”

“Please. Just let me go. I’m-I’m so sorry for bumping into you!” The chubby Pokémon begged for mercy and forgiveness, receiving nothing but an icy and intimidating grin from the Ursaring who had spent the better part of an afternoon making her reek of ass. “You want mercy? Ok, since you look so tired, why don’t you take a short break against the tree.” He said, less than convincingly but good enough for the naïve and fart-blasted Floatzel. “Thank you, Thank you,” she replied gratefully, flopping her back against the giant oak and shutting her eyes, finding herself able to rest and perhaps even nap for a short time.

Roland suppressed his cruel chuckles, Shelby letting her guard down completely. She’s even dumber than I thought, the Ursaring said to himself as he got into position. He stepped about as quietly as he could, the cool dirt helping to not make his steps as noticeable while he faced away from Shelby, his ass now toward the tree where she rested. He smiled as each of his paws grabbed ahold of a meaty buttcheek, peeling them apart and getting just a whiff of his innermost buttfunk. It was so potent, a thick and sweaty miasma of horrible Ursaring stench, concentrated in his asscrack and now slowly filtering outward into the air. Still grasping his thick slabs of buttmeat, the Ursaring backed up, not caring if Floatzel heard him; it was too late for her.

Awaking from her micro-nap, Shelby’s eyes bulged, her entire path of vision filled up with Roland’s massive behind. She didn’t even have enough time to scream as the two cheeks of the Ursaring slammed into the tree, Roland aiming himself perfectly and wedging Shelby’s nose against his juicy, flexing tailhole. “Yeah, that’s it. Sniff that up for me Floatz.” He taunted, delivering a vile stinkface while keeping his anus glued to his victim’s snout. Shelby could smell nothing but Ursaring asshole, barely a whisper of fresh air to be found. In seconds her entire face was coated in the slimy ass sweat that Roland had naturally produced, his nasty stinkface ensuring he spread his funk into every bit of Shelby’s face and fur, even against her lips.

“You make an awfully good massager for my ass. Really getting in those hard to reach places.” Roland laughed deeply, giving a genuine “compliment” despite how back-handed and insulting it was. “I might have to do this more often!” Shelby couldn’t imagine going through this more than once, just trying to get through it now. She knew nothing else but this Ursaring’s butt at the moment, unable to escape it as he rubbed and ground his ass and her face into the massive oak that could withstand his power.

A heavy gurgling rumbled from deep in bear’s bowels, causing him to chuckle while Floatzel protested harder, using her arms in a futile attempt to pry him off and then just banging her hands into his fat cheeks. “Yeah, you know exactly what that means.” Floatzel was at least smart enough to know that Roland had terrible gas still left inside him. She fought long and hard to escape, Roland letting her try her pathetic attempts just to get the surprisingly re-energized girl to wear down. She opened her mouth, a desperate attempt to scream for freedom, her voice muffled by the ass that was larger than her own face.

Roland seized his chance, pressing back hard, grinding his ass and smearing it downward on her face, leaving a deep and juicy skidmark as he moved down so his anus met her lips. The big Ursaring shivered, swearing under his breath as that warm and juicy mouth pressed tight to his flexing bear-hole, his pucker securing itself around her lips so she couldn’t move them. “Bad move Floatz. Not very smart of you.” He teased as he placed a heavy paw on his stomach and leaned back against the tree and his newest fart receptacle. Roland rubbed his gut in small circles, helping to relax his body and expedite what came naturally. Shelby shut her eyes hard, as if not being able to see would somehow reduce the terrible stink storm Roland was about to release inside her mouth.

It started almost anti-climatically, a wisping and quiet fart building up the pressure and volume of gas in Shelby’s mouth, before she could even gag it grew bigger and louder, his hole opening wide to force out the enormous gust of wind that made Shelby’s cheeks puff up, the deep noise echoing in her mouth, sounding rather wet by the time it was done. Roland laughed at the barely-audible sound, knowing that this was no regular fart, a real growling beast from the most hellish parts of his insides that he was forcing her to eat. “Eat up my farts Floatz, must taste better than all that fish right?”

The Ursaring didn’t let up one bit, pushing deep and vile bear farts into Shelby’s mouth, giving her no other choice but to swallow the thick gas clouds of pure stench. They were meaty in flavor and as solid as a gaseous expulsion could be, Shelby’s face turning a dark shade of green with the seemingly unending gas cloud that Roland was feeding her. The minutes rolled by, the bear relaxed against the tree, dropping foul stinkbombs peacefully as little of his own stench hit the air for him to sniff, able to precisely blow his thick flatus down Shelby’s mouth, filling up her stomach with such a heavy and vile concentration of Ursaring stink.

Roland lost track of time, not really sure how long he had been farting or when he had wound up falling asleep; something about laying back on a big oak tree in the sun while ripping big bombs really made him relaxed. The big bear stumbled upward, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he had forgotten about the poor Floatzel he had been sitting on for who knows how long. Seeing her steam-pressed to the tree, passed out herself with near-visible stinklines rising from her raunchy, bear-fart-stained body made him chuckle with glee, his mind flashing back to all he had done. “Maybe next time you’ll watch where you’re walking Floatz. At least I got my day of relaxation.”

[shoredaddy]

[sevenbillionasscheeks]

“Ready for bed loser?” How many years has it been since the bet? What was it even over? You can’t remember but you’ve been holding your end of the bargain: once a year you have to sleep with your nose between your cousin’s cheeks. It’s his favorite holiday now, because his farts wouldn’t “go to waste”. On that night he eats the most gas producing food. Then he lays down waiting for you to take position for the first fart of the night.

[kensprof]

[smut-head]

House Party

2 Page Commission 

The music throughout the house was blasting, leaving Jake barely able to think thanks to the noise and a combination of a surging group of party-goers and his drunken state. The very cute, very fem twink was a freshman, new to college and new to late-night parties featuring a lot of music and even more booze. He pushed on his brushed-up blonde pompadour, swaying from his intoxicated state and humming along to the beat. At this point he had lost the two female friends he came to the party with, isolated among nearly a hundred people whom he didn’t know and perhaps had never seen before.

His cute, tight denim cut-offs rocked back and forth, housing two thick meaty cheeks, an ample bubble butt that would make any gay man break his neck turning to look at Jake. Tonight was no exception either. The teasy little fucker had been stalked most of the night, a classmate of his looking to get in those pants. Leonard watched from afar, casually drinking with his buds while keeping an eye on the fuckable-looking twink, hoping to pound that ass before the night ended. The tall, lean jock had fucked boy-ass before but none as supple and big as Jake’s appeared. He wanted to grab those asscheeks, grope them and go to town.

Leonard was perhaps the only sober one left as the party stretched into its third hour, watching his prey start to move to a different room and bidding his black-out drunk friends goodnight as he pursued. He did so slowly but deliberately, smiling to himself as he noticed Jake was heading toward a bed-room, where no doubt there would be fewer people. The leaner, more muscled of the two began to feel himself swell in his pants, rubbing over an obnoxious bulge with his right hand while tracking Jake’s every move.

The twink, looking for a bathroom, stumbled into an empty bedroom, perhaps a guest room that was scarcely used by the house’s actual occupants. “Ahhh…Fuckin’…” He swore in his cute, feminine voice, his gut gurgling, badly bloated from all the alcohol he had devoured this night. Despite having a cute face and great ass, Jake also had a bad case of gas, all his friends telling him he farted like a straight guy. That is to say, loud, long and disgusting stink bombs that didn’t seem appropriate coming out of such a girlish boy.

By this point, Jake’s gut was roaring, begging him to find a toilet where he could sit and stink up the bathroom with his loud, beer-fueled farts. But his intoxication had gotten the best of him, fumbling over onto the bed, looking mighty vulnerable as he laid there, moaning, with his head down and big ass pointed upward. He rubbed his stomach, a long and completely silent plume of rank stink flowed from his desperate anus, making the air around the twink reek. Jake just laughed, always finding his own farts funny and their smell slightly alluring. More than anything, he was proud of just how well his big butt could clear a room.

Leonard had no intentions of letting some rank stink ruin his night, the masculine smell of flatus just making the lean jock harder in his pants. He finally revealed himself, shutting the door behind him and making Jake look over, startled. “Hey cutie, been checking out that ass all night.” Leonard cooed, confident and suave as he winked at the drunk twin, unbuttoning his pants and yanking his zipper down. Jake didn’t need to ask anything more, watching as that fat hunk of jock cock fell out of Leonard’s pants. “Holy fuck…” The boy whimpered in his shrill tone, wiggling his ass. He wanted it “Wanna put that *hic* in me big guy? Think you can handle this bubble butt?” The cute blonde lisped, waving his ass side to side now, just begging to be taken and fucked.

The tall, lean jock didn’t answer, hoping on the bed and positioning himself behind Jake’s fat ass, pressing his throbbing-hard 9 inches of dick against the fag’s asscrack. Jake let out a deep, guttural moan as he could feel such a beastly cock press against his warm asscrack, farting hard against it. “Fuck! You’re a nasty little thing aren’t you?” Leonard gasped, his cock throbbing as a wet, rancid fart erupted against it. It didn’t turn him off for one second.

The big-dick dude yanked on Jake’s pants, fighting hard to get them pulled off the blonde boy’s thick hips and huge ass, finally undressing his bottom and seeing he was commando. No underwear. “Damn, you’re practically begging for this bitch.” Leonard smiled wide, pressing the head of his dick against the gassy, warm hole, sinking it in. “FUCK! Oh fuck!” Jake cried out, the very tip of such a fat dick pressing into his tight hole, no lube, no condom, nothing to help him. Leonard wanted to fuck him silly.

“Take that dick bitch. Better loosen up and relax Jakey or you’re gonna be aching real bad when I got all 9 inches inside!” Leonard grunted as he sunk inch after inch of coke-can thick cock into poor little Jake. The twink squirmed and moaned loudly, this extra-large sized dick new to him and not exactly helping to calm his stormy stomach. Once Leonard had 6 fat inches inside him, usually the twink’s limit, Jake grunted and spewed out a long, gurgling fart that made both boys moan with the intensity of sexual passion.

“Fuck Jake! You know just how to beg for more!” Leonard growled, almost like an animal, grasping those big hips and slamming himself home. “FUUUUUCKK!” Jake cried out in pain as suddenly, 6 inches turned to 9 and his asshole felt blasted open. Leonard started pumping now, nice and hard, taking those hips and pounding himself into that big, bubbly boi booty. Jake responded with deep groans of being deep-dicked and more farting, his bloated stomach unable to hold back as the floodgates opened. With every deep, thunderous thrust Leonard slaked upon Jake, the fat-assed blonde spewed hot, disgusting gas all over his top’s dick. And as a result, this just made Leonard more horny, fucking harder, faster and deeper into Jake’s pained and desperate body. He wanted more, to have his brains fucked silly, but God did it hurt to have so much inside him!

Leonard was like an animal as his balls began to tense up and his cock throbbed harder, fucking Jake’s fat ass with great speed and power that made not only those bubbly cheeks ripple, but the fag’s entire body shake. “You little faggot! Fuck! I’m gonna…fucking cum!” The hot jock screamed out as he slammed into Jake’s ass balls deep, the pain of it making the blonde cum as hard as his top did, Leonard grunting as he fired thick, viscous ropes of fresh cum deep into Jake’s fat, gassy ass. Meanwhile, Jake had painted the bed white with his own batch of fresh, sticky load.

Slowly but surely Leonard pulled his softening 9 inches from Jake’s bubbly, wrecked booty, that hole puckering and full of seed, flexing desperately to revert to its original tightness. The top smiled, rubbing those meaty cheeks. “Atta boy. That’s a good bitch.” Jake rumbled, exhausted, firing off one last wet, gooey fart that shot cum all over. Leonard beamed, a toothy grin from ear to ear. “Same time next week, my place.” Jake nodded. “Yes sir.”

[arabmasterboy-deactivated202004]

This is where you belong.

This is where you need to be.

This is where you CRAVE to be.

To be worshipping my superior Arab farts, another white faggot begging to worship my big feet and farts. This slave was blessed with such an honour to sniff the sweat that poured out of my Ass and my farts that would pass through. This is what a good fart faggot is useful for, they are mere objects that are to be used for my pleasure and my pleasure only.

A dirty fart inferior cunt, begging to have its face buried in my superior ass. How pathetic does this faggot look?

Serve Arab Master Boy.

[rabamara]

[londonmanworld]

love to be the post

[denverfaceseat-deactivated20181]

My face is way more comfortable…..

[acacio-moore]

[whibbygaylord]

#ForeverReblog

[ibakethemcakes]

I’m so glad y’all enjoyed my post lol

[smut-head]

Justin Bieber’s Slave Part 2

Second part in a commission series, two pages in length.

Justin waved the black leather harness in front of his slave, smirking all the while as dirty images and ideas filled his brain. James was exhausted, defeated by being reduced to a seat and fart cushion for the big-assed, handsome pop star. He was too fart-drunk to realize what that harness and Justin’s threats meant for his own well-being. 

“C’mon now faggot, don’t be scared by my big ass or nasty farts. I know you want to fuck me, you pitiful queer. And maybe you can do that in the future. But first you have to earn that privilege.” Justin lied, the superstar would never stoop so low as to let some lowly fairy fuck his gorgeous ass. But he figured this was what the depraved fag wanted, though James just wanted freedom, to go home and end this horrible nightmare. 

Justin lifted his leg just a bit, uncorking a loud fart, not unlike the one he had ripped all over James’ face moments ago. 

“Fuck yeah, that was a good one. It’s nice being an alpha male, ya know that bitch? What the fuck am I thinking, of course you wouldn’t know.” Bieber teased ruthlessly, casually scratching that bubble butt following his obnoxious fart. “I can do whatever I want and no one can tell me otherwise. And right now, what I want is to harness you up to my ass.” Justin smirked, the realization of what the black leather contraption was making James stumble to his feet. “Stay down bitch!” Justin said in his masculine tone, kicking his bitch in the knee as he stood up. 

James’ cried out like a kicked puppy, falling flat on his face and making the pop star laugh hysterically. “Holy shit you look so fucking pathetic.” Bieber grabbed the harness and stepped into it, his big ass perfectly shaped, like two giant moons, by the leather harness that resembled a jock strap. “C’mere fag!” He shouted at James, the submissive male begging for mercy as the handsome star manhandled him, strapping his face up into the harness, tightening it so that James’ nose rested nice and snugly between his lightly-haired, slightly sweaty ass cheeks. 

“You fucking bitch, look how pathetic you are. Not even fit to walk on two feet like a human being. You’re a goddamn pet. A plaything for a bigger, more masculine male. Like myself!” Justin prodded and poked holes in whatever dignity James had left, posing his beautiful body, admiring his muscles and tattoos. 

Bieber leaned forward, looking over his shoulder at the man down on his knees, face pressed into his big ass. Smirking, the musician shook his ass back and forth, laughing hysterically as those meaty man-cheeks bounced and crashed violently against James’ face. 

“Fuck, you are such a loser.” Justin repeated. James’ nightmare persisted, unable to escape Justin’s perfectly sculpted ass, humiliated and reduced to crawling behind him, sniffing up his ass and practically waiting for Justin to fart on him again. He didn’t have to wait long. “Oh here we go. Here’s a house-warming gift bitch, from me to you! Welcome to your new home!” Justin held nothing back, a lengthy sputtering fart that sounded about as masculine as a fart could. It was deep and violent, fluttering James’ hair as the gas cloud hit him at point blank. “I bet that is fucking awful for you.” Justin said casually, having maneuvered the two of them into the kitchen, munching on an apple. 

“My fart blowing right up your nose, barely getting a chance to even prepare yourself for it. Don’t worry, it’ll get easier the longer you’re in there. Or maybe not! Only one way to find out, right bitch?” Justin swiveled his hips, those thick cheeks scrubbing themselves over James’ face, smearing a thin layer of sweat and fart stink over the submissive’s face. “I’m gonna make you stink like my ass. If you aren’t a masculine alpha male like me, you might as well stink like the ass of one!” Justin taunted, his torment, both physical and verbal, seemingly never ending. 

The pop superstar continued to strut around his house, jiggling his perky ass for additional torment, and enjoying the light padding noises James’ had to make in order to follow, walking on his knees as his hands grasped Justin’s muscled-up thighs. Bieber paced back and forth, not necessarily going anywhere or doing anything yet, just getting used to the harness. He had owned it for a while but never had a bitch pathetic enough to use it on. He was finding it to be as comfortable and ego-boosting as he expected. Feeling his bubble butt, the part of his body he was perhaps most proud of, grinding and breaking the will of some ugly, loser faggot made Justin so warm and fuzzy inside. 

Bieber grunted out another deep fart, bellowing loudly over James’ face as he reacquainted his faggot slave with the smell of his fresh guffs. “I could go all day bitch. I haven’t even had dinner yet and look. I’m still cutting, big, deep alpha male farts for you to inhale.” James’ despised the way the large, long gust of fetid air shot right up his nose, most of it traveling down his nostrils and into his lungs, sniffing up Justin Bieber’s farts while whatever didn’t get inside his poor nose fluttered around his face, burning his eyes, mussing his hair and making his lips dry. And when he was done sniffing, he still had to deal with the two bowling ball-sized asscheeks that rubbed against his head, adding injury to the insult of being face deep in an obnoxious and sadistic pop star’s butt. 

Justin figured he had done enough fucking around with his slave, starting to head upstairs to get some real work done. His producer had just sent over some new beats for him to listen to and pick out his favorite ones. Bieber headed upstairs, up the long flight of stairs, to get to his studio. The process of going upstairs was a painfully long one for James, forced to go one step at a time because of his limited range of motion. Every step meant Justin’s asscheeks moved moreso than a regular step forward, grinding and squeezing his head in place. 

As if that hell wasn’t enough, halfway up Justin started to fart, just soft and small gusts that exploded into James’ face with every step. “Whoops! Sorry about that bitch, guess I’ve got some walking farts that need releasing. How about it, do you like it?’ Justin laughed, James’ suffering through these persistent gas bombs with as much disdain and despair as the first fart.

[smut-head]

Justin Bieber’s Slave Part 1

First part in a commission series, two pages in length. 

James was star-struck, his mouth agape with a foolish look on his face as he stared at the newest patron to enter the fast food restaurant. One second the white boy was enjoying his cheeseburger and fries, and the next, he was staring at none other than Justin Bieber. Biebs, in the flesh. Standing at just about 5’7” and 160 pounds, the average looking male stared with his mouth agape as the pop superstar entered the restaurant casually and ordered. James wasn’t sure what he would do. Gawk from afar and admire one of his favorite musicians? Try to go up for a picture with Bieber? Fuck it, the young man thought with a particular surge of bravery.

Striding up to Justin, James steeled himself for rejection or a cold shoulder, completely taken aback by how friendly the world-wide icon was. “Hey Justin, my name is James and I’m a huge fan! I just wanted to say hi and what’s up, really.” James said, nervous and shaking a bit with excitement. “Oh dude it’s great to meet you!” Justin replied, gently slapping the other man on the arm. “Come sit and eat with me, I always enjoy getting to know my fans.” The handsome pop star said, grabbing his food and leading James to a table.

The two talked for well over an hour, chatting about their respective lives, pop culture and video games. James even asked Justin some questions about what superstardom was like, Bieber being more than happy to open up and answer them. He didn’t consider himself gay, but James was taken aback by the glow of masculinity that Bieber had.

“Come back to my place dude, we can chill,” Bieber invited the other male, James immediately excepting the invitation, the grin on his face betraying his attempt to be calm and collected, feeling like he was on cloud nine. Justin Bieber had just asked him to come back to hang out at his house, a mansion most likely! The two piled into Bieber’s gorgeous, fully-pimped out limo, a short drive back to where Justin lived. The sprawling estate was not only enormous but also beautifully landscaped. It was fit for a king, James thought.

As the two entered the giant home, James looked up, marveling at this feat of modern architecture. “Wow Justin, your house is- ACK!” The man grunted as a fist suddenly connected with his chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs and sending him to the ground. Collapsed in a heap, Justin straddled the poor guy and grasped his hair roughly. “Stupid faggot, don’t you know I have a girlfriend?” Justin taunted James, who was heaving and trying to breathe normally.

“I’m not gay!” James protested the pop star’s cruel words; taken aback at how Justin had went from so sweet and down to earth to a flat-out monster who left him laid out on his tiled floor.

“Shut up! I don’t really care cause from now on…” Justin paused, leaning in closer, tugging on James’ hair and whispering in a terrifyingly merciless tone. “You are my slave and I am your master.” Justin stood now and dragged James for a few seconds, the boy howling in pain. “C’mon bitch, better get to dragging those hands and feet if you don’t want me to rip the ugly hair out of your head.” Bieber cackled as the poor submissive boy followed orders, mostly out of his own self-preservation. Like a dog, James crawled to Bieber’s luxurious living room, with every new gaming console, a massive TV and suede couches.

“You’re going to be a very useful slave for me!” Justin said excitedly, both of his hands rubbing his big bubble butt, turning around so his new plaything could see it. “See how big my ass is fag? Your Master has a perfect bubble butt that all you queers like to stare at and dream about. But unfortunately, my big soft ass reeks pretty badly.” Bieber’s smirk turned into a vicious laugh as James’ hopeless expression gave the pop star great pleasure. “You should see how worthless you look bitch. On all fours like a goddamn dog in front of your new master! Now then, lay your head on my couch, you’re going to soak up my ass stench and keep my suede cushions clean. Got it?”

James whimpered, mewling like a tortured kitten, “Please nooooo…” He begged pitifully, another rough grip of his hair by Justin and a firm slap was enough to get him to obey. “That’s a good dog.” Justin said mockingly, straddling James’ body and slowly, teasingly lowering his big, basketball shorts-covered ass onto James’ face. The man turned seat cushion for Justin Bieber moaned as he felt the sweat-soaked fabric make contact with his nose, Justin teasingly pushing down slowly, those heavy and warm cheeks engulfing James’ face soon enough, pressing the seat of his pants into his new slave’s nostrils. “Say, ‘thank you sir’ ok bitch?” Justin ordered, a muffled response coming from James, buried in between two round, sweaty asscheeks.

“Better breathe deeper slave; it’s not getting any easier for you, especially after all that greasy food I had!” Justin smiled, grinding back and forth, keeping a ton of pressure on the pathetic man’s face. “Yeah that feels good. You make a nice seat bro!” The sound of the pop star’s sadistic laughs echoed in his huge mansion as he rose and pulled down his pants and tight briefs in one motion. “Don’t worry you’ll get to sniff more of my ass through my shorts and underwear later. But right now, I want to introduce you to my bare ass.” Bieber spread his cheeks, showing off his big rear end, his asscrack fuzzy with hair but not too much. “Don’t worry, you only have to worry about choking on farts bitch, not hair.” Justin laughed again, sitting back down, letting his perfectly round cheeks take shape around James’ face.

“Fuck yeah, dig your nose in my swampy asshole! Sniff up my ass stink boy, I bet those fumes are rank right?” James’ new master noticed his pet withering and shaking, overtaken by the potency of Justin’s big swamp ass. “Well it’s about to get worse!” Justin gave little warning outside of that, cutting a deep, booming fart that roared across James’ face. The smell was vile, making the beta male arch his back and attempt to buck Justin off. “No moving, no resisting! Say ‘thank you for your fart sir.’ See what a kind master I am?”

Justin kept up the horrible pressure, extending the ordeal for poor James, letting all the fart particles be absorbed by his new cushion before standing up and pulling out some sort of harness from his desk drawer. “This is fun bitch but I got shit to do and I can’t just sit here all day! So I’m going to put this on you and then the real torture can begin.” Justin’s eyes beamed with a glint of depraved glee.

[smut-head]

Drake’s Biggest Fan

3 page commission

Zach practically leapt out of his skin when he heard he was the winner. The man couldn’t believe his good fortune. He had done it, he had taken the day off from work so he could sit by the radio all day and listen for when to call in to win VIP tickets to Drake’s upcoming concert. Zach had been a die-hard Drake fan since So Far Gone dropped and was such a Drake stan that it became a source of ribbing among his friends. But Zach had the last laugh now; he was going to get to meet his musical idol.

Zach eagerly counted down the days, crossing them out on his calendar as each one passed, getting more and more anxious as Saturday finally arrived. He got there nice and early, getting the full red carpet, VIP experience. Free food and drinks and he could stand at the very front of the mass of concert goers that packed the arena to see the biggest music star in America.

The entire building was rocking as Drake stepped out, Zach overshadowing the other people up front with the cheering of a true fan. Once the music had stopped, and Zach’s voice was now hoarse, he giddily made his way backstage, several security members escorting the VIP contest winner to Drake’s dressing room so he could spend some time with his fan.

Zach could feel himself shaking from excitement and anticipation, a big wide smile draped across his face as the door marked “Drake” was opened and sitting right in the middle was none other than Champagne Papi himself. The handsome artist smiled, clearly worn-out from his performance, his entire body dripping in sweat, but it didn’t stop him from greeting Zach warmly. “Hey what’s going on man?” Drake welcomed the young man into his dressing room, nodding to the guards who shut the door to let the two of them be alone. Zach could barely speak, far too excited, ready to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Yeah I heard I had a VIP coming to meet me tonight so I made sure we could have a good time together.” The taller, much more built man said.

“Wow, this is so amazing.” Zach said with a nervous chuckle, Drake patting him on the shoulder and returning the laugh. “Oh it gets more amazing.” The gorgeous music celeb said, grinning happily. Suddenly Zach found himself on the ground, staring at the ceiling, everything was happening too fast for him. Drake had planted his Jordans on the side of the man’s face, smirking at him as he twisted his foot down and forced Zach to look at him. “You fucking faggot, I’m so sick of you queers winning these contests.” Drake complained, grinding the homo’s face that was under his shiny new shoes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘How’d you know I was gay?’ Cause of the way you look at my muscles and crotch faggot.” The handsome Canadian insulted further, smirking as he rubbed over his grey sweatpants-covered bulge while staring at his faggot slave.  

Drake took his foot off Zach’s head, confident the little fairy wouldn’t try to run away or resist. Regardless, the star was confident he could easily take the miserable faggot down despite being exhausted following a raucous performance. Drake squatted, his thick asscheeks stretching his sweatpants to their very limit. He brought his lips to Zach’s ear, whispering threateningly; “I’m going to make you wish you were never born fag.”

Drake stepped forward, his face out of sight for the whimpering, squealing faggot lying on the ground before him. The handsome music star’s shoes were on either side of Zach’s face, the boy looking up to see two thick, bubbly cheeks clad in tight grey sweatpants blocking out light like two massive orbs. Drake looked back, smirking some more. “Yeah I see you staring faggot. Want an up close view? Who am I to say no to a VIP with the best seats in the house!”

Champagne Papi cackled as he dropped his ass down hard on Zach’s face, grinding into the boy and getting him acquainted with his giant, round asscheeks that most could only see in brief. Few were as “lucky” as Zach was. “Or should I saw I’m going to make you the best seat in the house, right my little faggot?” Drake put his hands on his thick, creamy thighs as he grounds his ass back and forth along Zach’s face, delivering a brutal stinkface that succeeded in both causing pain to the poor queer and making him whiff the sweaty, musky odor of Drake’s swamp ass.

The faggot could barely handle it, running out of air as Drake’s cakes kept him smothered and barely gave him any moment to stop choking on his surprisingly foul buttmusk and get oxygen. “Need air fag? Hold on, lemme help you…” The thick superstar trailed off, a brief gurgle in his stomach alerting Zach as to what was about to happen to him. His screaming and carrying-on picked up, his limbs flailing fruitlessly, Drake’s phattie muffling his cries for mercy. “Yeah, maybe you aren’t as dumb as I thought!” He taunted with a laugh, not holding back as a rumbling, utterly potent fart drilled Zach deep in his sinuses. “Sniff up that air fag! It’s only gonna get worse.”

Drake rose from his seat on little Zach’s face, the dazed and confused homo still choking on fart fumes as he failed to attempt an escape, allowing his once-idol to strip down to a pair of tight white boxers that perfectly scooped up and showed off Papi’s bubble butt. Drake cupped them as he admired his own gorgeous physique. “Most girls get to tongue this ass when I step out of the shower. You get something far more special.” His grin was that of pure sadism, Zach unable to escape his worst nightmare as the two big mounds of meaty Canadian booty smothered him once more, this time with even less layers of protection.

He reached back, peeling his cakey cheeks apart so he could bury Zach’s nose deep in his swampy asscrack, continuously slamming his puckering, gassy anus against the boy’s nostrils. “Sniff that asshole faggot!” Drake roared, commanding his slave to huff his assmusk while blasting him with a thick, lengthy guff. The fart reeked horribly, burning Zach’s nose and eyes, stinking like rotten meat that had been baking in the summer sun, nowhere for the gas cloud to go but down Zach’s nose and into his lungs.

Drake sat heavily against his fag’s face, keeping his asshole glued to that nose and farting into it, a seemingly unending stream of hellish flatus pounding Zach’s face. “Think it can’t get worse?” Drake taunted, not expecting an answer as he stood once more, peeling off his underwear so those humungous cheeks could be freed of their cotton prison. The faggot looked up at the alpha male in horror; usually such a supple and bubbly ass like that would make Zach drool but with the way it had been smothering him and farting without mercy, only fear washed over the boy. It was meaty and smooth, freshly shaved, but dripped with sweat and threatened to ruin the homo’s sense of smell forever.

Drake’s ass rocketed back downward at chilling speeds, connecting with Zach’s face and creating a sickening SLAM and then a wet, sweaty squelch. “Was that painful, you little faggot?” Drake asked in sadistic glee, hoping he really hurt his new bitch. “Let’s see if I can’t make it worse on you fag.”

The alpha male stinkfaced Zach hard, ramping it up a notch from when he was wearing sweatpants and underwear, fully nude now and able to practically drown the queer in ass-sweat. Drake continuously rubbed his soft, white-hot, and soaked in sweat anus over Zach’s nose, making sure he could directly inhale all the numbing ass fumes that flowed from it even when Champagne Papi wasn’t farting. With as much sweat that Drake was producing, the faggot’s face turned slick and ripe in no-time, the thick music star able to glide his ass around with ease, destroying Zach’s natural scent and replacing it with that of rank booty.

“Fuck, alright, enough of this. Time to make you huff farts faggot. And this time, I’m making sure you vacuum these up that ugly little nose.” Drake pressed back hard, finding Zach’s nose and keeping his anus pressed flush to it, opening those puckering lips so they could eat up the boy’s nostrils. “Oh fuck yes! Just like that fag!” Drake moaned as he felt the tip of his slave’s nostrils press into his anus, immediately rewarding the queer with a hot, fresh fart. It reeked of death, something that would ordinarily clear a room instead flowing directly into Zach’s nose and down inside his body. “You make such a good fart cushion faggot. Maybe I’ll just keep you on in that role!” The Canadian teased, following his taunt with another fart, this one longer and louder, threatening to blow out Zach’s eardrums as it went on and on until it finally ceased after 15 brutal seconds.

The faggot felt his braincells melting as Drake’s brutally ripe and rotten fart fumes decimated his will to fight back and resist the cakey yet gassy booty that was covering his entire face. “Put your tongue in my ass faggot. Now!” Drake ordered, giving an open-palm tap on his bitch’s nuts to let him know he was serious. Zach whimpered like a dying animal as he opened wide and pressed his cool, wet tongue into Drake’s hot and moist anus. “Fuck!” He cried in immense pleasure as the feeling of the fresh tongue being ruined by his destructive anus made him shoot thick hot ropes of cum and simultaneously feed his faggot a thick, relentless fart that soared down the queer’s throat and rendered him unconscious.

Drake rose from his faggot seat, panting with relief as he looked down at the passed-out fag under him, admiring the way visible steam lines rose from his face, his hair mussed up horribly and his entire head generally stinking of farts. “Security! Get this faggot out of here. And make sure he knows I’ve got another show here in a couple months.”

[smut-head]

Law & Order

Going to start selling stories like these. Focusing mostly on farting and/or scat domination but I’m fine with other fetishes and kinks. Willing to write both furry and human. $5 per page (this story is about one page). DM me if you’re interested!

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The big, bulky Lab strolled through the city, enjoying his day off as he paced through long city blocks, finishing up a large lunch and just taking in the sights and sounds of the place where he lived. Never one to overlook potential playthings, the Labrador almost immediately picked up the sight of the handsome, well-built Rottweiler police officer standing at one of the avenues. The Labrador’s mind flashed with devious thoughts of how he could overpower the officer and have his way with him, the thought of taking down one of the ultimate forms of power pumping up the shorter canine’s ego, pumping it up so much that it was nearly as big as his ass.

Approaching briskly, the Lab kept himself cool and collected, his insides rumbling from the foot long he had devoured not long ago, it all had to go somewhere after all. “Excuse me, Officer.” The short, thick dog called out, just a few feet away now. With the Rottie’s attention toward the Lab, he continued on. “I just wanted to tell you that I saw a package that looked sorta suspicious in the alley over there.” He pointed toward a mostly dark portion between two buildings. “Can I show you?” The cop’s ears picked up, the thought of danger making his adrenaline start pumping as he spoke bluntly. “Yes but let me stay ahead of you. And if there’s even the remotest sign of danger you need to leave immediately and let the authorities take care of it.” The Lab nodded, directing the striking cop over to the alley, walking far enough in that no one could see or hear the two of them.

“I don’t see anything suspicious, where did you see this package?” The Rottie asked naively, the predatory Lab ready to strike. Licking his chops, the depraved canine didn’t even answer, grabbing the cop hard on his shoulders and pushing him down to his knees behind a dumpster. Not wanting to do anything too brutal physically, the Lab socked him once in the gut to force the air out of him, then yanked down his tight khakis to reveal his enormous Labrador asscheeks. “Sorry cutie, you were just the sexiest plaything I’ve seen for a few blocks.” The Rottie gasped for breath, putting his hands out to brace himself on the Lab’s cheeks but only making the sadist canine groan in joy as he sat hard, crushing the cop under his bulky ass and smothering, grinding on the officer’s face until it was flush with the wall he was slumped against. “Oh fuck your face feels nice back there cop. It’s a shame that pretty mug won’t smell so nice after I’m done using it.”

The cop wailed and screamed beneath the thick, cakey mounds of Lab ass, squeezing and groping at the monster cheeks in an attempt to free himself but to no avail. The bulky canine enjoyed every second, stroking himself off as he defiled that face hard, using the Rottie’s snout to mop up his putrid ass juices and whatever stray skidmarks lay between the cheeks. The Lab grunted now, mercilessly clenching his cheeks so he could push out a beastly, 10 second long flatus cloud that pounded the Rottie and nearly KO’ed him right there on the spot. “You’re a brave guy, sacrificing yourself for the others that may have had to deal with that.” The canine cruelly teased, lifting up a bit to see that abused face.

“Not done yet.” He said coldly, pressing his fingers to the Rottie’s mouth to hold it open, skillfully lowering his winking anus inside those lips. The Rottie fought with renewed vigor but was far too tired to effectively fight off the depraved mutt on top of his face, the Lab sighing, pushing hard, his pucker crackling open to deposit a girthy, long log of shit inside the police officer’s mouth. The sensory overload of the smells and simply ungodly flavors made the poor Rottweiler convulse and pass out, while the big Lab came hard all over the ground and even the cop’s pants and boots. The Labrador removed his massive ass, laughing at the sight of a fat shit loaf crammed into the unconscious maw of the other dog. “Poor guy. You won’t have a pleasant wake up bud.” The Lab cooed, scribbling down his address and fitting it into the cop’s back pocket. Just in case.

[thefartingdom-deactivated201901]

Motivation to Finish this Story

So my friend sends me this link and I thought the blackmail story and Brian Becomes a Slave looked interesting.  Write a chapter in these bad boys. I want to see what you perverts enjoy so I can bust out this Team Player story before I bust on your face. If you write a chapter, message me so I can read it. That’s if you can handle my bullying one-on-one.

https://www.writing.com/main/portfolio/view/gmanataolcom