(This was a submission/request, if you want your favourite content creator in a story like this message me!)
This story contains no farts/is not too raunchy*
The door slams shut, my roommate Sapnap has returned home, and my eyes roll already. We didn’t get along, we annoyed eachother too much to be in the same room, which was why i was sat in the front room of our apartment slouched into the couch. I paused the TV and put aside my bowl of popcorn, turning my head to see him, coated in a thin layer of sweat and irritation. He appears in the doorway, adjusting the sweatbands on his wrists and the room immediately depletes into the anticipation of what he’s about to say, he’s never satisfied. He stares at me a second, then at the rest of the room, i gulp, feeling awkward.
“What?” i manage.
“What do you mean what? Look at this fucking mess. Are you kidding me? You know i live here too- i have people coming over later and your leaving all your shit everywhere!?” he furies, picking up various cups and packets of food on the coffee table as he talks, completely rinsing the room.
“Sorry- okay..? I’ll clean it later man what’s the big deal-?” i’m cut off as he turns to rage his eyebrows at me; his expression furious. Sapnap clambers towards the sofa, turning around and yanking his silk basketball shorts off in a clean pull of his hands. Now bending over, he reveals a prowling pair of large asscheeks, each trunking down to girthy, hairy thighs that flexed in his motion. His grey underwear painted his asscrack in a stripe of dark sweat, and he parts his cheeks open to invite me in.
“Hey!!- What?!!” i flail, my hands reaching up.
“You wanna be a fucking mess? I’ll show you, alright, i’ll fucking show you,” he states, conversing as he sits his large asscheeks on my face, plummeting me into the sofa cushions. My squeals could barely be heard under him, my face hugged into his deep crack, two plump cheeks rubbing right against my cheeks.
———-
Sapnap grins ontop of you, resting his weight back onto the couch and spreading his legs, coated in a thick layer of brown hair.
“Fuuucking pussy, i swear. Cant even fight me off,” he eggs you on, wriggling his waist and grinding his rear into your nose, feeling his pucker meet your skin through the thin underwear fabric.
Small whimpers could be heard below.
“What was that? Little bitch? No? Okay,” he finalises, resting back once again into silence.
————
I slowly accepted my place, he’s always been so much stronger than me. Every breath i struggled through was rough, his ass screamed of sweat. But for some reason, i cant help but feel strange, my clothes felt a little looser, and Sapnaps ass against my face started to feel more heavy. Thats when i realised i was shrinking into his asscrack. With every grind, twist and turn off his fat ass minimised me into his domain.
Before i know it, my body is laid out flat in the dark crevices of Sapnaps crack. I feel the groves of his asshole heap through the fabric of his underwear imprint on my body. So small i can make out the stitches in his dark underwear.
“Oh god, someone’s small.” i hear above me, in a malicious and menacing tone, his voice now inexplainably loud and deep. With another grind arounf my body, sapnap rummages his asshole around your body once more, scooting his basketball shorts up again to trap you in his ass. He stands up, the motion making you dizzy, the safety and warmth of his asscrack inviting. I feel him start to walk, his entire butt shaking with each step, i cling to the fabric of his underwear, and sink farther into his asscrack. This was my new home.
Disclaimer: You don’t have to know who this person is to enjoy this story
CW: Includes slave dynamic, farts and ass eating and all things gross.
Word count: 2100
Slave 1 - Miles
It was Monday, my day. The day Sapnap regularly used me for my slave role in his house. It was 9PM, in my sweats, i had been reading for an hour or two in the one of five guest rooms i had claimed as my own. In the time i have had away from his asscrack, Sapnap allowed me to purchase a few devices or blankets to make my room personal to me, plus everything i brought from home to live here. I shut my book and bounce out of bed, reading my worshipping timetable on the wall, we all had one. Designated hours, or more, of the time we all worshipped him, and they barely overlapped. I follow my finger to Monday, the rest of the days of the week practically empty, the weekends being complicated.
I’m running late. It’s 9:02 PM.
I had eaten Sapnap out earlier this morning before his shower, and then we had our 2 half hour facesitting session in the afternoon, which i normally enjoy, meaning all that was left was our evening ass cuddle, where he makes me out my face into his crack whilst he lays on his side and enjoys his free time.
Evening sessions are mostly my least favourite, i’m often tired, and farts from his dinner often brew up for 9PM, leading them to be extra frequent, regardless, i was a little more energised having missed the afternoon facesitting hour. As if i had much of a say, i throw off my sweater, remembering how hot it gets with Sapnap and make my way to his room.
**knock knock knock**
“Who is it?” i hear a deep voice.
“Miles.. Slave 1? Our sessions like.. 2 minutes ago” i grumble at the door, wiping my palms on my hips.
After a few seconds i hear, “Come in,” i open the door myself, the room expansive and wide, this was Sapnaps streaming room, the walls covered in posters and shelves of collectables. To the end his large desk and multiple monitors sat switched off, and i walk forward, closing the door behind me towards the large, L shaped couch Sapnap lay on. He’s in a black shirt covered by a large grey hoodie partnered with his basketball shorts, his hair falling onto the sofa cushion as he holds his phone with his arm nearest to the cushions.
“You’re late.” he mutters at me, glancing carelessly before looking back to his phone.
One rule about being Sapnap’s slave is that you aren’t late. Glancing to a clock to the left of the wall, i notice i’m just under 5 minutes late.
I don’t protest, or frown, i just lock the door behind me and walk myself over to the sofa. He rolls himself over onto his stomach, setting his phone to one side with a sigh: he’s in a rough mood.
“Don’t ever be fucking late again, that’s your strike for this week, hear me?” he points at my face, thrusting upwards to slip off his basketball shorts, casually exposing his ass, covered in a matte of copper-brown pubic hair that tangled into a crusty mess in the dark crack.
“Yes Sapnap, i’m sorry.” is all i say; placing a knee on the sofa to crawl onto it, my eyes never leaving his forever musky crack.
“Took a ripe crap earlier, so you have plenty of work slave, alright?” he says it like labour, like i’m of use. He reaches behind his back and grips each cheek, proudly spreading open his ass, exposing his hole, lazily painted in cracked, dry layers of sweat, lint and shit.
I look up, away from the horrid sight, appalled - I take a deep breath, “Yes.”
You may think i’m doing this against my will, that if i could, i would scramble out the nearest window and sprint as far as my legs could take me.
But you would be wrong.
At the moment, i’m just indifferent, used to this lifestyle. Cleaning the gunk out of twitch streamer Sapnap’s asshole with my tongue isn’t what i typically want to be doing right now, but because he let me cum earlier today whilst he sat on me, i have to complete this session regardless if i’m into it or not. I knew it would be a mistake, i just couldn’t help myself. So for the next hour, i’m just gonna be a reluctant piece of toilet paper until he’s decided he’s done with me. It’s been worse.
I shuffle forward, lying on my stomach in between his legs, my face at his crack.
“Alright, go on,” he encourages me, putting in an airpod as he looks back to me over his shoulder, seeing the sour look on my face, “Don’t tell me your getting cold feet again, i warned you about cumming earlier today, i said: If i let you come now, you’ll have to complete our evening session with just as much enthusiasm, but noooooo you just wanted to come to my gross, big ass on your face. Too fucking bad bro, eat.”
I’m smushed into his soft, moist cheeks, banished deep into Sapnap’s foul crack. He painfully pinched my hair, not as generous as he was earlier today, and yanks my mouth area closer to his hole. I’m immediately hit with the raunchy, curdled oder of his rank hole, mixed with old, faint smears of shit around his rim. The smears that turned his pink hole beige.
My eyes are free, my gaze fixed to look up his broad back. His curved ass disappears into his hoodie, his hairs fading into blonde wisps that coated his lower back.
“Hands up, you’re gonna seriously learn to stop showing up late.” he orders finally, clinking a pair of handcuffs in his hands. Almost immediately, i place my hands on his middle back, offering my wrists to him. Now i’m stuck.
He stops talking to me, putting headphones in to leave me in silence to do my job, it’s all i’m good for anyway. The faint sounds of talking and music from his headphones fades into the slurping and sloppy kisses i give his sickening asshole. It’s starts with a big, stripe of a lick, painting his asshole with my spit. His legs kick at my first, it always does, and i try to hide my smile as he attempts to hinder his satisfaction. I turn my head to rest it on the right cheek, lapping at his free cheek, cleaning off all the juices and gunk that’s festered in his crack. It was impressive, really, how gross he could get in a few hours, i never underestimated that about him.
I entertain myself for the next 10 minutes. I sucked his skin, hard. Smirking at the red marks and bruises that dotted his ass i know he likes the feeling of. But i stopped after he palms me on the back of the head, I probably sucked too hard. I admire them some more, wondering what the other slaves will think about my work when they see his ass next.
After a few minutes i see a pair of mischievous eyes, and a camera poised at my face deep in his crack. His eyes crease as the camera flashes. Perfect. My stomach churns, i never know where those photos go, besides the slave groupchat, where we all see how each slave gets treated on their day, we don’t often see it otherwise.
I clean his asshole thoroughly, it’s always bad after a dump, but i managed, it glistened in my spit, shining as all the hairs swirl into each other from my tongue. I lift my neck up as much as possible, realising how much i enjoyed myself, being at aid for Sapnap was starting to turn me on without fail. I loved being useful, he mentioned he stopped buying toilet paper because of me, and i remember feeling so flattered it took me a boastful amount of effort not the brag about it to the other slaves, figuring they wouldn’t even care.
I’m his toilet paper.
I think to my self, getting giddy and hard, giving his asshole some more generous attention with my tongue before clawing at his back with my handcuffed hands. His legs had swung up a few minutes ago, stimming almost, at my attentive tongue.
Sapnap rests on his elbow and takes an airpod out. “Yeah?” he says, his tone sounding less aggressive.
“Your all clean Master,” i say, proud, giving his cheek a peck, the pubic hairs that framed his asshole slick and misplaced from my saliva, the taste stained in my mouth.
“Fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he smiles, awkwardly reaching his arm back to ruffle my hair, his palms sweaty. He sighs, stretching before getting up a little.
“Alright, we’re gonna turn over, you ready? Get up.” he says, switching back to his dominant demeanour.
I sit up on my knees, resting my twisted hands of metal to my crotch as Sapnap twists his legs, laying on his side. I follow his movement, this time my head rests on the cushion, the back of my head squished against the back of the sofa.
His arms stuff behind his back putting a pillow under my head to support me as my face rests easily before his ass, my nose tickling his crack, so close.
“Comfortable?” he mutters, “Got some farts in the tank for the last 30 minutes, sniff them, eat em, i don’t care, just deal with them.” His hands spread his cheeks so wide open it looks painful, and he shuffles back into my nose, my face sandwhiched as i’m robbed for air.
That was the last thing i heard for a while, it was honestly quite difficult to breath, so i just squirm and find pockets of air, the irritable moisture of my warm saliva on his wrinkled hole didn’t help either.
Brrtff.
Fuck. That’s foul.
I sniff, like i’m told, empty coughs automatically escaping my mouth. It was sour, rich and gut-churning. My face heats at the warm gas, the fart was bassy and raw, coming from the gaped trenches of his bowels. I nuzzle my face in tight, nothing better to do than sniff, maybe i can eat the next one. I give his hole some more licks in the mean time, slurping and kissing his it lightly whilst i await the next fart. It came, like i knew it would.
Gmmp.
It echoes in my throat, and i close my lips around his skin and snog. Swallowing. It’s as if i physically ate my own dignity, it tastes his rotten meat and shit. I hear a faint chuckle from above, where the pure air is.
Im so disgusting, i’m so getting pink eye from this. Even then, maybe i’ll get a day off.
He toys with me, shaking his hips side to side, taking my face with him as i thrash with his crack, the hairs licking my skin back. He’s such a tease. And with one more fart to the face, he’s done with me. He leans forward, slipping up his shorts and giving his crack a scratch and bringing his fingers to my nose. I smell them.
“Good job Miles, your really made up for those 2 minutes, out.” He orders, tilting his head to the door.
“Thank you sir, i’ll see you when i’m next useful,” i say, as he holds my face with his rough hands, his silver ring against my jaw.
A glob of spit flies at my face, making one eye close before i wipe my face with my hand.
“Like hell you will, alright, out.” he says, turning over on the sofa once more.
———————————————————————
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“Remember you wanted this. Once I zip up there goes the last remnants of clean air. For the rest of the night you’ll breathe in the smell of my sweaty ball sack, my musky crack, and every fart I unleash. I can’t believe how much you spent on this get up, you really don’t want a molecule of my gas to escape your fag nose, do you? Right, ready? I reckon after you smell how bad my farts really are, I’ll see your eyes panicking behind those goggles. Before my warm rotten gas fogs them up. Ooh, here comes the first one!”
With a dad that looks like that ripping farts so blatantly in front of you, was it any wonder you'd developed a fart fetish. Now say "Thank You, Daddy" and sniff it up.
The loud cheer of the crowd caused you to nearly cover your ears. You’d only been here a few minutes, and you were already sick of it. You didn’t know exactly how you’d let your boyfriend drag you out here, but you certainly knew how this day would end. You’d begun to grow sick of him lately and was planning on breaking up with him once this show was over. You basically had almost nothing in common with him and, most of all, hated his gross, disgusting ‘humour’ if you could even call it that. If it weren’t for his raging good looks, you would’ve left him a long time ago.
“Hey there, big boy.”
Speak of the devil. You looked over to see your “boyfriend” coming over to you, carrying a tray of food. He was also wearing that silly cowboy hat, that so many other guys were wearing. You have to admit, you did feel a little hungry and considered grabbing one of the nachos on his tray. He sat down next to you with a smile.
“Sorry I took a while. I was in the bathroom taking a pretty big dump, that coffee and eggs I had for breakfast just went right through me. But I got some food for us on the way back.”
Ugh, hearing that put you right off your appetite. You sighed and turned your head away. He just laughed.
“Aww, don’t be like that. Come here, I’ll make it up to you.”
You sighed, looking back at him. It was that dam alluring smile he gave you that always somehow kept you coming back to him, every time you’d thought about leaving. You sighed and decided to lean in hoping for a nice surprise. Instead, you saw him lean to the side, pointing his jean cladded ass in your direction, and squeezed one eye.
FFRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT
A small tuba sounding fart rang out from his ass. You didn’t even have time to react before the smell of beans and eggs hit your nose, causing you to react badly and waft it away. Your boyfriend just laughed, as if it was one of the funniest things ever.
“Oh man, you always fall for that doncha?”
See what you meant? His humour is just repulsive. You couldn’t take it anymore, you were sick of him, his farts, his over descriptions of his toilet habits, this rodeo and everything about him in general. You considered breaking the news to him now but couldn’t bring yourself to do it face to face, at least not yet. You’d do it as soon as you got home (considering he was your only ride back). You stood up and said you were going to get some ‘air’.
“Ok then, I’ll see you later. Also, if you’re going to use the bathroom, avoid stall 4 cause that was the one I used and hoooboy, it was a real stinker.”
That was the last thing you heard before he started sniggering and you walked away. You’d just about reached your limit. The question was, where would you go now. You looked around and noticed a free bench at the far end of the stadium where he wouldn’t be able to see you. You sat down and pulled out your phone to distract yourself from this silly show. You noticed that it was on low charge and sighed, wishing you’d charged it before you left.
You leaned back, but then stumbled, as you remembered that these stalls didn’t have any back rests. Before you could react, you tumbled over backwards and hit the ground bellow. You looked around and realised you were trapped under the stall, with a beam of light from the gap in the seat shining over you.
You were about to jump up and leave when suddenly, out of nowhere, four other guys sat upon the bench, blocking your way out. They all appeared to dress the same as your boyfriend, with jeans on and wearing those stupid hats. All you could now see was their tight asses sticking over the bench, directly above you.
“See boys, I told you would make it in time.”
“Yeah well, we would’ve made it sooner if we didn’t stop at that buffet.”
“Well, you know me boy, I love me some beans.”
You could only just hear their voices, but it was a little muffled. Yet, you couldn’t help noticing that one of their voices sounded somewhat familiar. You didn’t have time to worry about that though, as you had to figure a way out. You thought about asking them to move, but then realised you’d have to come up with an explanation to why you were there in the first place. You didn’t want to look like some kind of pervert. As you were thinking of an escape, you were bought to the attention of a certain noise that you were all too familiar with. A noise you really didn’t wish to hear right now.
BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP
It had a low trombone sound. It was slightly muffled by his jeans, but it was the unmistakable sound of a fart from one of the cowboys above you. You heard the cowboy on the right laugh heartily as the smell began to hit your nose.
“Speaking of beans, you boys better hold onto your hats, because I’m about to get windier than a hurricane.”
You desperately wafted away the smell. This had to be the worst luck imaginable. You didn’t know how long the show was going to last, but you couldn’t stay here.
FFFFFFFRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT
Seriously? Another small blast, bassy came from the booty next to him, followed by his laughter as well. You were thankful that the sound, and somewhat smell, was at least muffled by their jeans. What were the chances of always being stuck close to flatulent maniacs like this?
“Now that’s some real southern wind right there.” It disgusted you that these men seemed to have no shame. They were no worse than your boyfriend. You continued to try and look for a way out, without disturbing them. As you were doing so, you heard a strange hissing noise. You weren’t sure where it was coming from, but didn’t care right now. That was before your nose was suddenly assaulted by a stench of rotten meat that made you halt in your tracks and actually cover your nose. From above, you could hear the others react to it and laugh as well as comment about it.
“And that’s why they call me the silent skunk.” The guy on the far left said gleefully. Whilst the others had been bad, this one was a little too much. You finally let out a cough, pretty loudly at that. There was a short silence, as you suddenly realised what you’d done.
“Well, well boys, lookie what we got here.” You turned your head up to see that all 4 of them were now looking down at you. You froze, unable to find the words of what to say.
“Some kind of perv trying to get a good look at our asses?” There was a fierce undertone in their voices that made you feel worried.
“Wait a god damm minute, I know you.” Said the one on the left, you looked over at him and recognised his face. A few weeks ago, your boyfriend had forcibly taken you down to a bar, where he began chatting with a few guys. There was this one guy he particularly got on with, which he started shamelessly having a fart competition with, to which a lot of the other bar guys cheered them on. His name was Robert, you think. The whole thing had disgusted you and was one of the reasons that you’d wanted to break up with him. You didn’t even care about when he'd told you he was going to the bathroom with that guy to play ‘battleshits’, whatever that was, it sounded gross. They could’ve hooked up for all you cared, as it would’ve saved you having to break up. But now here he was, directly above you… small world.
“This is the guy who was talking about breaking up with Jerry, for saying he farts too much.” Wait, had you told him that? You had gotten rather drunk, so maybe you rambled something to him at some point. “What’s the matter boy, scared of a little wind?”
“It’s alright, maybe you just need a whiff of some proper gas. How bout we give this boy a first-hand experience?” Your eyes shot open widely. They wouldn’t, would they? You then heard the others cheer and agree. Oh god, they would. Then, to your terror, all 4 of them began to pull down their jeans and pants, fully exposing their bare asses above you. Their fat, jiggling asses where now pointed directly above you, with nowhere for you to escape.
“This is what you get for trying to break Jerry’s heart. Come on boys, let’s get rooting TOOTING!” You quickly tried to cover your nose with your shirt, but it didn’t make that much difference, as each of their asses began blasting.
Their asses roared as the show continued on for what felt like forever. You could hear them whooping and hollering, combined with them grunting and laughing at you. The stench of beans, eggs and rotten meat was getting trapped, entering your nostrils under the stands. You desperately tried to look for a way out, but the loud blasts coming from above you were distracting you from your thoughts of escape.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the guys get up and pull up their jeans. They looked down at you, as you felt on the verge of passing out, smirking.
“Now that’s some payback. Phew, that smells worse than a manure field in the summer sun.” One of them said, smiling at you.
“Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook yet, because I’m going to tell Jeremy the truth, something that I bet you were too scared to do. See you later fart boy.” Robert said, looking darkly at you. And with that, they all headed off, leaving you finally free to scramble out and gasp for air. You got a few strange looks from a few people walking by, but you didn’t care. You stumbled out to the entrance and looked at your phone. You’d received a text from Jeremy.
“I just got told from a friend that you wanted to dump me. If that’s really how you feel then fine, it’s over!! Good luck getting home.”
You couldn’t decide whether or not to feel thankful or not. On the one hand, you were relieved to be done with it. But, on the other hand, you kinda wished you’d gotten to do it when you got home, as you didn’t have any other means of transportation back. Still, at least that meant you didn’t have to worry about riding in the car with him whilst he farted it up, locked the windows and laughed at you as you’d gag (as he always would).
You figured your best option was to call an Uber home. Unfortunately, as you opened the app, that’s when your phone decided to die. Great, now what? You began to panic a bit, when suddenly a car pulled up to you in the car park. A guy then poked his head out the window, with a silly cowboy hat, asking if you needed a ride. There was something familiar about his voice, but you didn’t care, as you were rather desperate. You reluctantly agreed and climbed in. You looked around to see 2 other guys in the car. That’s when it hit you that they were the same guys who’d been farting above you in the stands just mere minutes ago. What were the chances?
“Boy, are we glad we ran into you? After your little breakup with poor Jeremy, Robert rode back home with him to cheer him up. I think he’ll make a way better boyfriend to him than you ever were. Apparently, they had a farting competition on the way back.” You cringed, wondering why that was important for him to mention.
“Yeah, but we felt kinda sad that we got to miss out on it. But now that you’re here, we figured you’d be the perfect person to judge our contest, considering you’re apparently pretty good at taking them point blank, according to Jeremy.” You gulped and realised the horrible mistake you’d made. You’d rather walk all the way back than this. You quickly tried to jiggle the door, but it was unfortunately locked.
“Haha, sorry bud, can’t let you go. Those beans we had earlier are still bubbling our guts up stronger than a volcano in erupting season.”
“Hey, maybe when we get back, he could judge our game of battleshits as well?” You felt your stomach drop in horror. It was bad enough trying to avoid the bathroom when only Jeremy was using it, but 3 people like him?
“Good idea boy, but first, let’s warm him up a bit.” They all then pointed their asses to the side as they began to grunt. You felt your body go limp, you knew when you were beaten. One thing’s for certain, this truly cemented your hatred of rodeos.
You're sitting on my face, a normal routine for us. You'd watch TV, call your friends, jerk off, whatever.
And I'd be your cushion.
Sometimes you'd have my nose up your hole, on days when your stomach was acting up and you didn't want to smell it. Today, it was my tongue. You had come home after errands and wanted someone to eat your ass, and, well, you had a cushion that could do that.
You kept letting out nasty farts down my throat. Each worse than the last, to the point where I could taste them. At some point, I pull away to complain, to which you slam your ass back down on my face, forcing my head back to the ground.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask, obviously not expecting a response. A few minutes pass, where a particularly wet fart makes you speak up again.
"Damn, that was nasty... might need the toilet soon."
I whimper, but you don't move. A few more minutes pass, before I realize that all of those farts sound that... dangerous. You seemed to notice too.
"Oh, God, I really have to go, I can barely hold it now, mutt. I don't know how you're holding up through it."
I'm not, but at least you're about to get up. Or so I thought. You don't budge, but your discomfort is showing as you shift above me. I don't understand. Why aren't you budging? Then it hits me. You're not going anywhere.
"I can't hold it anymore, mutt.." is all the warning I get as I feel something solid against my tongue, the log forcing it's way down my throat. It felt never ending, and I tried to pull away, but your hand had grabbed my hair and held me to your ass.
It kept coming, and by the time it was over, and you were standing, I was so... spent.
A hot stream of liquid hit my face, and I realized you were pissing on me, mostly in my mouth.
"Wow, you look like.. shit." The smugness in your voice was all too clear. "Too bad I never wiped, huh?"
I have no time to question before you're sitting back down on me, and I realize that this is just the beginning of a long night.
A story request based off of someone’s Uncle who would always get the worst gas from eating White Castle.
My uncle is a dick. Growing up he always took pride in harassing me. I remember at any family gathering he would always find a way to burp in my face or give me a wedgie. I always hated having to see him but he’s my dad’s older brother so my dad loved having him around. Things only got worse though when my dad decided to let my uncle move in with us. Living with just my dad life had been easy but once my uncle moved in my life became hell. I was now my uncles personal bitch to torture twenty-four seven.
My uncle moved in with us towards the middle of July and because of the scalding heat and all of the boxes we had to move in the three of us ended up drenched in sweat. After we were finished moving everything in my dad announced that he was going to take a shower leaving my uncle and I alone. I started walking towards the back of the house to go to my room but my uncle called me back
“Hey kid! Ya mind helping me out with one more thing?”
I sighed reluctantly and walked back to the living room to see him smiling wide with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and I could see the sweat dripping down his muscular arms. I remember smelling him all the way across the room and just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Yea sure what can I do?” I said trying my best to sound like I cared.
Right after I finished speaking he strode towards me while saying “you can take a big wiff of this!” Once he reached me he lifted his sweaty arm behind his head revealing his nasty sweat soaked armpit. I started to gag and pull my head back but before I had the chance he used his other arm to shove my face right into his wet pit. My face squished into his hairy trench as the smell overwhelmed me. I tried to pull away and push out but he was far too strong for me. He began laughing as he rubbed my face all around his sweaty hairy armpit.
“YEAAA BOI you like that!!?” He yelled down at me.
The stink he had produced from his armpit was inhumane. I was desperately trying to get free but still to no avail. Finally he stopped rubbing me around his pit and I thought that meant he was going to let me free but I was far from right.
“Okay nephew. How about you take a deep sniff of my stink!?”
I yelled into his armpit for him to let me free but my words were only muffled because of how closely pressed I was into his armpit.
“I said inhale bitch boy!” My uncle said this time with much more command in his voice. My eyes began to water. I’m still not sure if it was from fear or disgust. I was at his complete mercy. Finally I mustered all of the strength I had left in me and I took a sniff of my uncle’s nasty armpit…willingly.
“No no nooo. That doesn’t count. Deeper.” He said evilly.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Once again I took a breath in through my nose sucking up his stink only for him to say “Deeper”
At this point my eyes were flooded with tears but of course my uncle would never be able to tell because his armpit was already soaked with sweat. I continued inhaling my uncle’s armpit for what felt like hours heading his command every single time he told me to inhale deeper and deeper. He hadn’t even been living with us for twenty four hours and this is what he was doing to me I couldn’t take it, but yet he continued.
“Deeper” SNIFFFFFFFFFFF
His B.O was now living inside me
“Deeper” SNIFFFFFFFFFFF
He laughed at me as I audibly gaged at his stench
“Deeper” SNIFFFFFFFFFFF
There was no way he could’ve ever worn deodorant. No ones armpit smells this horrible
“Deeper” SNIFFFFFFFFFFF
Finally I felt his grip on the back of my head release and I fell to the ground. My face slathered with sweat just looked up at him while he laughed down at me.
“Thanks so much for your help nephew. So excited to get to be living with you.”
My uncle said as he stepped over me and left the living room.
My uncle has now been living with us for two years and the amount of suffering I have been put through by him is insane. He still gives me wedgies and burps on me whenever he feels like it but he’s upped his game in all of the time we spend together. I don’t think I’ve gone at least one week without my face plastered inside one of his nasty armpits. Oh and I was right he doesn’t wear deodorant. He says that he wouldn’t want it to get in the way of our bonding.
I’ve even tried to tell my dad about what he does to me but my dad just laughs it off and says that’s how my uncle messes around with people. That they would do that kind of shit to each other all the time as kids. I couldn’t believe that my own father was completely okay with my uncle using me as a towel to wipe his stink on.
Now I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet. See besides the armpits and burps and wedgies my uncle loves to fart on me. His gas is usually horrible but thankfully he doesn’t fart too much. Only like once a day he’ll come up behind me and fart in my direction but rarely do I have to deal with them head on. That is unless he had White Castle. Something about this particular burger joint destroys my uncles intestines and thus destroys my life. He is well aware of the disgusting nasty burning wet farts that the food gives him but he eats it anyway just so he can torture me. The first time I ever had to deal with his White Castle farts was a Saturday night when my dad was out of town in business. My uncle had promised to take care of dinner for us but I had no clue what I was in store for.
Around six he returned to our house with a giant bag from White Castle containing six boxes with ten burgers each. He got sixty burgers which I thought would be too many for just the two of us but little did I know that I none of them were for me.
“You ever been around me after I had White Castle kid?” He asked me with a smirk on his face clearly already knowing the answer to his own question.
“No..why?” I asked cautiously
He laughed and then said “I’ll explain in a minute but let’s get more comfortable first.”
Without even giving me a second to react my uncle grabbed and threw me over his shoulder. I began yelling and screaming but it was no use. No one was going to hear me. He brought me to his bedroom and threw me down on his bed. I hit the bed hard and before I even had the chance to attempt to get up his was straddling my stomach leaning over my as he tied my left wrist to his bed frame.
“What are you doing stop!!” I screamed up at him but he paid no mind to me just laughing sadistically as he tied my right wrist and then moved on to my feet. Once I was restrained tightly he got off me and looked down at his work.
“One more thing and then you’ll be perfect.” He stated declaratively
My uncle then walked over to his dirty hamper which I had become quite familiar with during his time living with us. He loved to grab me by the hair and just force my face into his dirty clothes. Often times I’d end up face first into one of his skid mark stained boxers.
My uncle carefully plucked a dirty sock from his hamper turned to me smiling wide and then said
“This is going in your mouth.”
I immediately started wailing in fear but then realized I needed to keep my mouth shut so he couldn’t get the sock in it.
“OHHH you wanna make this difficult?” He said once he realized what I was doing. Without even missing a beat my uncle plugged my nose preventing me from being able to breath at all.
“I got all night bitch boy. No matter what. My sweaty dirty sock is going in your mouth.”
I tried as hard as I could to get free of my restraints. This can’t happen. I can’t let this happen. I’m running out of air. Then it happened. I took the biggest gulp of air through my mouth and right away my uncle shoved his dirty sock in my mouth following that by taping my mouth shut .
He then walked out of the room laughing as I slowly soaked the sock in my saliva. Tasting every ounce of his sweat and stink on my tongue. My uncle then returned with the White Castle bag and as he pulled up a chair next to his bed said “taste good kid? I’m sure you love it. I’m about to have something that tastes good too, but you probably wouldn’t like these burgers as much as you love my dirty sock.”
Then began the most nerve racking hour of my life. My uncle sat next to me in that chair eating all sixty burgers as he explained to me how horrible his White Castle farts are.
“OHHH ho hoo kid you’re really in for it. These farts are wet and they burn my asshole. I can’t even imagine what they’re going to do to that poor little nose of yours.”
All I could do was watch him eat and listen to him talk about my unstoppable fate. His farts were coming and they were going to be unleashed all over my face.
Once he had finished all sixty burgers my torture began. “Time to get sniffing boy!” He said with a smile on his face as he got up on to the bed with both of his legs on either side of my head. I didn’t think things could get much worse at this point but then my uncle pulled down his jeans and his shit stained boxers leaving me with no choice but to stare up at his hairy big ass. I struggled even harder at this point but I think deep down I already knew that his hairy bubble butt was about to consume my face.
My uncle began to lower himself down on my face. His hairy cheeks spread giving me the perfect view of his unclean ass crack, and then he sat. He was straddling my face bare assed. I tried to hold my breath for as long as I could but I was already so weak at that point that in only fifteen seconds I was already inhaling his shitty butt. The smell was horrid. I was gagging immediately but I knew things were only about to get worse.
“OHHH boy I feel em comin. These are going to be real bad for you bitch boy HAHAH” he laughed at me as I suffered and then he released.
PHRSSTTTSSSSSSSSSGRLLLLGGRRRPHHRRPP
The fart was godly. It made my face vibrate and the immediately singed my nostrils. The smell was worse than anything I had ever encountered in my life time. My uncle’s White Castle farts were worse than every other form of stink torture he had put me through and he knew it.
PHRRRT SSHRPHHRLLRP. SHTRTTRTRT
“HUFF THOSE FARTS” he yelled down to me joyously as he began to lightly bounce his bare ass up and down on my face. I tried my best to breath at the least gross times but who was I kidding. I was laying down with my uncle’s dirty fart exploding butt spread across my face. There was no least gross time to breath. I eventually passed out from the stink only to wake hours later untied but with all of his dirty laundry poured on top of me and his dirty sock still tapped in my mouth.
Still to this day my uncle tortures me with his White Castle farts. He’ll either tie me down to his bed like he did the first time, and eat all of those burgers in front of me while taunting me about the torture that’s about to come. Or he’ll come home at night march right to me and tell me he had a shit ton of White Castle and that I have to sleep in a Dutch oven that night just to make sure he doesn’t have to smell any of his own nasty farts. I usually try and escape but he always captures me in a head lock, face first into his sweaty armpit. He then drags me to his room and tapes me up, never forgetting to gag me with one of his dirty socks. After that he strips nude seals me under his covers and climbs on in letting his big hairy ass meet my face. Then comes the main event. He forces my face deep into his hairy ass and farts on my face, up my nose all night long.
"Get over here now boy! Hurry up and crawl over here. Open my cheeks up, stick your tongue out, and get to cleaning. I can't go into work with my post morning workout swamp ass. Luckily, you decided that after that major bombardment I let off on your face last night you'd just sleep over. I'd hurry if I was you. I don't know how long I can hold back the farts this time. Just lap up and down, don't worry about air. Oh...I'm sorry man...they are coming, and I can't stop....uhhh damn that morning protein wrecks my gut. Guess you will have a good supply of air as you clean my crack am I right?" His laughs are muffled by the fatty ass around you head and the gusts of foul air pushing sweat from his moist hole.
June 12, 2016. Putting a date on this for when it gets reblogged months from now by people who think the post is about something from 30, 40 years ago.
I am a survivor of the Pulse nightclub shooting, having grown up in Orlando and just turned 20 a month prior. If you didn’t know, there were several families who refused to claim the bodies of their relatives due to their sexuality. One family even had their relative’s name removed from the memorial. Murdered by the same hate with which their families reject them in both life and death.
Many, many people celebrated Pulse. We were told we deserved it. That it was God’s punishment for our sin of loving the same sex. We are sent messages like these I received in 2018:
We in the community often call the victim count 49+ to include the survivors who couldn’t live with the pain.
The event was never officially declared a hate crime or targeted homophobic attack and is rarely listed as one in databases.
At our vigils for those slaughtered, Extremist Christian groups showed up to protest, holding signs like this:
ID: Me kissing a woman I was casually seeing in front of an angry looking man with a “Sodomy is Sin” sign.
Please understand how much more than just a mass shooting this was. We are still to this day harassed and told we deserved it by some.
This year was the sixth anniversary. The first couple years I received dozens of messages checking in on me on 6/12. Year 5 got enough news coverage for people to think to reach out to me. This year it was my therapist, the woman I kissed in that photo, and a couple of other gun violence survivor friends. People are forgetting already.
Orlando was my home. Pulse was the first nightclub that I ever went to. I have so many memories. I knew people there that night. And now? With all the attacks on queer people in Florida and around the country? It hurts. It hurts so much.
(Re upload since the original was flagged for the pic)
Joining the navy seemed to be the only way for Sam to escape his parents constantly pestering him about why he didn’t have a wife yet, since he really didn’t want to have to own up about his sexuality, at least not yet. Also being a repressed gay soul he found the purely masculine energy on the ship refreshing.
Being a gay sailor seemed to feel like a bit of a stereotype for Sam before he joined the ship but when he finally did, he found out the rumour had some truth to it. He hadn’t seen anything too explicit but he was certainly getting a certain recognisable energy from a lot of the guys and some of them seemed to be very touchy with eachother occasionally.
But in spite of all of this Sam only really had his eyes on one of the guys. He didn’t even know his name but he saw him from over the other side of the kitchen sometimes. He has rust coloured hair and deep penetrating eyes which he had made contact with on occasion. But of course what caught his attention most was his beautiful bouncing ass which filled up the back of his white trousers very comfortably. The man also seemed to be quite popular and outgoing having an overbearing presence which made people around him want to get close with him.
In spite of all this Sam was quite introverted and struggled to find any reason to talk to the man. But he did feel a sense of urgency since he could tell that a few of the other men had their eyes on his amazing ass as well. He would have to make a move soon.
But instead it all seemed to happen by chance, and not go exactly the way he imagined.
Sam had finished his duties for the day when he was on his way back to his room to collapse on his bed. He was so exhausted he didn’t realise that there was someone walking close behind him so when he stopped for a moment to get his bearings the person behind him pushed right into him pushing him onto the ground.
“Oh shit shit shit! Sorry I should have been paying more attention you had kind of distracted me, let me help you up.”
Sam turned around on the floor to be greeted by the beautiful sight of the man he recognised from all the time he had spent staring at him, who was bent over outstretching his hand with a bashful smile.
Still lost for words and staring agape at the man helping him Sam accepted his hand and was helped up.
“Shit I’m so sorry about that.. I haven’t seen you around here much since recently, I’m John”
He said shaking Sam’s hand which he was still holding from helping him up.
“Um Sam, my name is Sam and thanks for helping me…”
Before he could continue he felt a sharp pain in his ankle and winced in pain his knees falling a little and he stupidly fell into the chest of John. He couldn’t help but notice how strongly he smelt of sea salt and sweat.
“Crap I think I sprained my ankle”
Helping him find his feet again John said apologetically.
“Shit I really did hurt you, well it’s a good thing my room is close my I have a first aid kit to see if I can do anything.”
Sam blushed at how kind the man was being but also found himself lucky that he was getting so close to John so quickly and it didn’t even have to resort to scheming.
“Yeah sure that sounds great, mind if I get some help though” Sam asked as he slung his arm around John’s almost comically wide shoulders so he could hobble next to him on the short walk to his room, making sure to get more deep whiffs of his masculine aura.
The cabins on the ship are all quite basic and John’s was no exception housing only a desk with some drawers and a single bed. One thing which was very common also on the ship was bad lighting so the dim light lead to an oddly rough and sensual atmosphere in the room.
John invited Sam to sit on the bed while he bent down and fished in the drawers in the meanwhile bending down so his ass was only centimetres away from Sam’s face.
The temptation was strong for Sam and the least he could do was take a weak sniff just to get more pheremones from this beautiful man. When he did the result surprised him.
Unlike the relaxing yet strong salty scent the rest of John had his ass was significantly more musky and dirty smelling even through his thick trousers. With only a short inhale Sam coughed a little prompting John to glance back at him.
“Oh crap I’m so clumsy today, my ass is almost right in your face and i guess it might smell a little bit, umm I guess if we spend more time together you’ll find out why.”
John was now crouching at Sam’s knee holding a ice pack to where the bruising was on his knee. Opting to be braver than he usually was, and overlooking the majority of John’s sentence having forgotten the smell Sam asked.
“So you want us to spend more time together?”
The question certainly got John’s attention as he looked up from Sam’s knee and dropped the ice pack in shock. His shock then turned into an interested smirk as he pushed himself of the floor put his arms on either side of Sam on the bed and brought his face mere centimetres away from Sam’s.
“I could see that working”
And after that sentence they both simultaneously joined in an hungry kiss. In that moment the tension in the room lifted as both men realised they had the same intentions.
Finally breaking from the embrace John stood up fully and walked to the door.
“Is it okay if I lock this?”
He asked Sam suggestively being unable to hold back a grin.
“I would expect no less” Sam replied lifting his shirt off and walking up to John as he finished locking up and lifting his up as well.
As Sam lead John by hand back to his bed there was a deep rumble in John’s stomach.
“Shit” Sam heard John mumble to himself “Not fucking now”
Lifting his head up to make awkward eye contact with Sam John asked “Will it be okay if I just head outside for just a minute or two?” Sam thought it was a little weird nodding but luckily John continued saying “Don’t worry I’ll be right back” with a wink as he walked to the door.
Unfortunately for him it rattled a little as he pulled at it and he tried the key but it was jammed.
“Shit, shit , shit” Another stereotype Sam was beginning to notice was the whole swearing like a sailor thing.
“You alright over there?” he asked half knowing the answer “Your ‘situation’ can’t be that bad can it I really don’t mind you being a ‘giver’ to be honest it’s a preference”
His lewd proposition went completely over the other man’s head who seemed to be sweating a little and looked quite panicked “No it’s not that kind of situation, well not completely…”
Sam was quite a naturally helpful kind of guy so he wants to calm him down walking up behind him. “Sorry I feel quite stupid I have no idea what you’re alluding to but it can’t get too much in the way of the fun can it?”
John was far too busy panicking looking at the door lock to fully prepare for Sam to out his arms around his waist and put his crotch on his ass. The motion was intended to revive the sensual atmosphere but all it did was increase the bursting pressure inside John and finally lead to release.
BRAAAAAAAAAAAP
The unmistakable sound rocketed right against Sam’s barely covered member and being completely in shock from what happened the pleasure from the powerful vibrations came as a surprise and lead to the man letting out a wholly involuntary moan. But of course right after this the rank meaty fishy blast of air reached his nostrils. Sam sometimes got really bad gas himself and working on a ship meant he was around some bad smells all the time, but nothing even on this level. It felt like the inside of his nose was burning and he began to wretch at the terrible stink.
Skipping all embaressment however all John could focus on was the moan that he got out of Sam. Spinning around the face the man who was violently coughing into his fist he said almost accusingly: “You enjoyed that, you moaned, you got pleasure out of that!”
His face lit up from his seeming discovery of a fart fetishist, not giving any time for Sam to recover from the smell he continued. “So I’m sure you can tell by now that I’ve got terrible gas, it’s pretty much constant, but don’t get it twisted I love it, the feeling of relief and the smell of my own brew, but I’m sure you can tell that it could be debilitating sexually. But it seems like I found my solution!” He finished his speech grabbing the still wretching on the lingering stink Sam by the cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.
“Since I started noticed you in the hallway I have been holding in my gas, so I’m not really sorry to say but you deserve this since I guess it’s kind of your fault…. but hey you enjoy it” John said pulling Sam over to the bed.
Finally recovering Sam began to understand John’s misunderstanding but not knowing how to articulate himself he just stuttered on his words and couldn’t finish a sentence, which John just translated into excitement which was actually a massive panic.
Before Sam could do anything he had been pushed down on the bed and John was getting into position to squat over his head. He was freaking out but this was his one opportunity to properly tell John what he was feeling but then he caught sight of that ass again.
It was now hovering around above him almost hypnotising him with its beauty. Stinking beauty.
In his distraction he had missed all of what John had been saying, but he didn’t care he was taking of his trousers and now his underwear. His ass had a layer of hair getting darker nearer the crack which Sam loved and began salivating at the sight of it even getting a little peek of the hole inside.
“..so I’m sure you won’t mind using my flatulence as a substitute when you inevitably run out of air” He finally registered what John was saying and it scared him back into reality but by that point it was too late. Sam could barely finish saying 'Wait’ by the time he was engulfed in John’s gorgeous pungent butt.
He hadn’t even ripped one yet but the smell of his ass was overwhelming and becuase of how massive it was Sam couldn’t experience anything else except muffled hearing of what John was saying.
“Ahhh I’m so lucky that your hot face makes such a comfortable seat, literally I can feel your nose right in my hole!” Sam thought that was kind of a compliment? But the last part certainly scared him. He thought he could maybe get used to this but then it begun.
“Think the canons are ready to fire Sam so prepare for impact”
PHRRRRRRRRRRRAP
FRRRRRPPPPT
RAAAAAAAAAARPP
The sound and the smell of the flatulence was tenfold due to Sam being stuck in the abyss of John’s ass and all of the stink was free to go up his nose. It was rank, the powerful meatiness and fishiness but altogether rotten rancid stench made Sam feel like he was inhaling toxic fumes and his eyes even began to water.
In contrast to this John was moaning at the relief of letting it out.
“Oh god Sam I can even smell that up here and god I’m a stinker I can’t help but be proud of it” Sam could hear John say as he began to rub his ass even more into Sam’s face. Sam could even tell John was beginning to jerk off, at least someone was enjoying this.
FAAAARP
PUUUUUUUUUUUUURAP
RRRRRRRRRP
The cacophony of gas continued and Sam began to buck and attempt to scream into John’s ass for freedom.
“Oh it’s good to hear you’re enjoying it down there, you really are a bit of a slut for my stink.” John said as he began to jack of Sam with his spare hand.
'Wait’ Sam thought 'How the fuck do I have a boner?’. He was stuck under a hot man’s ass being forced to inhale his anal pheremones. Thinking it over it did make a bit more sense.But it didn’t stop it from stinking so much!
The farts and moans from John continued as Sam’s grip to consciousness began to slip, but the hand job from John was about to pay off. But at that moment John stopped turned around and looked at Sam’s sweaty face and placed his ass cheeks around Sam’s pulsating dick.
“Oh you look a little rough and God damn your face reeks, but I can only blame myself for that, but if anything I think you look cuter.” He said with a wink.
All Sam could get out was “Fuck you stink…”
“Haha I Know but you love it, so let’s finish this”
And with that he pulled his dick one last time cumming all over your chest and simultaneously let out his last blasting fart to forcefully vibrate Sam’s cock past the point of climax and lead to one of the stinkier orgasms of his life.
Sam couldn’t help but let out a moan which was stopped short by a deep kiss from John which when over they both inhaled, with Sam coughing on the residual stink of the room while John took a proud whiff of his handiwork.
John pulled the blanket over the both of them and pulled Sam right into his chest not caring about the cum.
Whispering to Sam he said “So now we know eachother a little better I propose you share this bed with me on a more permanent basis… I’m sure I can pull a few strings… Let’s sort out the technicalities in the morning. Goodnight and smelly dreams”
Excited but terrified at what this meant for him Sam didn’t even notice the cover being pulled over his head. One rancid rip under the covers from John and Sam was out.
They say everything is bigger in Texas; well northern Nevada is pretty damn big too.
You took a year off collage to reconsider things. You needed money though. There were plenty of tourists traps out on in the desert you could work at, but Western World was at least halfway respectable. Tourists would come through and get to experience a real live recreation if an old west prospecting town. There were horses, and shoot outs, and plenty of merch to sell.
The mother of all draws had to be BFC— Big Fucking Colt. At seven foot seven inches, and four hundred pounds of grade a beef, he was the embodiment of ‘The West’. He started as a bandit, but as he grew in popularity he took on the roll of head cowboy.
You were just support staff. Not even guest services: you were on stable management. Your days were spent fill up troughs and shocking manure.
-
You turned when you heard the thundering boot steps of colt stomp into your stable. At first you were frightened. He looked in a panic. His eyes scanned around.
“Fuck. I hoped it would be empty” He looked down at you from nearly a two foot difference.
“Ahh…um…can I help–” you stammered
He saw an empty stall in the corner.
“No time. Make sure no one comes in. Lock the door” he pushes you aside and makes for the stall. You obey and bar the only entrance into the barn.
“Everything alright Mr.BFC?’" You approach him from behind. You hear the tell tale sound if his zipper bring pulled down, then the spatter splatter of him pissing on the side of the barn.
”Oh that feels good" He sighs. “I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. All those tourist buying me pints and I gotta drink them in one slug ya know?” his stream shows no sign of slowing. The ground was getting muddy.
“I wouldn’t know. I gotta stay here and clean up after dumper here” The Clydesdale neighed at the sound of his name.
“I call him the mine layer” Colt says. “The Sheriff used to parade around on him all day. Had to watch your step if you didn’t want to step in the second biggest shit pile you’ve ever seen in your life” he waved you to come over.
“Second?” You say as you approach.
“If you ever use the bathroom after I forget to flush it would blow your mind” he took of his hat. “Go set that someplace safe. This is gonna be a while. I need a break from the public” he hands you his genuine antique leather hat. You can’t believe BFC is being do cool with you. You toss the hat someplace behind you.
“It’s all the food. Only thing a cowboy gets to eat when there are tourists around is cornbread, and chili with cheese. I spend most of my days holding in so much gas”
You stifle a chuckle.
“Funny huh? My farts could peel paint. I gotta hold them in. A few years ago I thought I was alone and could let one out. Didn’t know some guy had come up behind me. They say he’s still puking to this day.”
You step aside as to not be in any danger should he decided to cut one.
“Hah, no worries,” Colt said. “Now a days the only ones who deserve my farts are the seat of my F-150” He lifted one leg and shook as he finished pissing “And anyone who rightly gets me upset”
He shook himself dry; what a tank he must have on him to piss do much. Quiet literally a tall drink of water. The stories of him and his blazing temper seemed like just a bunch of hot air.
“Hat” he said. He held out his hand.
You looked at your empty hand. The to the ground at your feet. No where. Then you remembered that you had tossed it behind you so you could gaze at Colt. You both saw it at the same time. The hat had landed upright behind Dumper who, out of necessity it sheer spite, had filled the antique Stetson with a fresh load of manure. His tail lifted and you both looked on in stunned silence as he dropped a few more pounds of wet horse fudge inside the brim.
“I—” you spoke, but with one finger Colt silenced you. He exhaled violently through his nose.
“See now we have a problem.” He spoke calmly, but you could sense the pent up rage behind his words. “I’ve been working real hard to try not to kick anyone’s ass through their teeth, but I got a powerful urge too now.”
Your stomach dropped out. Your sweat was running cold.
“So here’s what were going to do. You’re going to lay down on the ground. Then I’m going to park my ass on your face and fart out my anger. Every time I let one go your going to sniff in and say: Sorry Mr. Colt, sir”
You waited to see if he was joking. You looked up and his pricing green eyes were like daggers in your heart. You knees went weak. Your brain kept screaming at you to run, but his arduous will forced you to obey. With grim resignation and nearly on the edge of tears you dropped o his boots and built yourself a bed of clean straw.
He growled and spat. Something was wrong.
“The more my brain works it over the more I worry ripping some decent chili farts in your face might not do it all for my anger.” He said. He was looking around. Maybe he had come to his senses.
“Got it. I got it” he snapped his fingers. He bent down and grabbed the manure filled Stetson with his bare hands and slid it beside you. “Your going to use that as a pillow”
You furrowed your brow. “What?”
He grit his teeth and exhaled like a bull again. “If I have to repeat myself my visions going to go red and I might just bite off your fingers.” There was such a red hit fire behind his calm, yet sternly spoken words. He could command you to do anything with that demeanor.
Once again, you obeyed. You hesitantly lowered yourself into position. The back of your head squished into dumpers pile, the steam rising around you as your ears filled with the wet squishing sound. Looking up at Colt he seemed more the giant than ever. He kicked off his boots and stripped off his denim, taking great care to fold them and hang them on the side of the stall. His underwear was forest green. The fibers looked worn and threadbare— the sights, sounds, and smells they must have seen.
He dropped to his knees and inadvertently tea bagged you. His hearty sack bounced in your face feeling like a bag of uncooked sausage: rubbery and gamey. He was on his knees. He flipped over in one fluid motion. His ass filled your vision. It was titanic, gargantuan. This close you could feel the heat pouring off of it. Through the years you could see the bare skin. It was rough. For such a well groomed if not rugged man his ass looked down right bestial. Coarse hairs poking through the fabric, rough leather patches of skin. You could hear the inner working of his guts. His bowels, a fine tuned machine for turning the heartiest of western meals into gas and cowboy shit seemed to crank into over drive at the prospect of belching out it’s foul fumes into a fools face.
He lowered himself down. His big boots were beside your head locking it into it’s manure prison. Even half berried inside dumpers fresh pile, your nose was more upset at the aural miasma that was coming from colts asshole. He sat full weight, but because of your position you face was not crushed by his giant cheeks. He sat in such a way that your eyes were still free to look up his back. His ass sat perfectly pressed into your nose like a face mask.
It wasn’t long before the fireworks started. You felt a twitch from his body then long and bellowing blast beset you. It sounded like a gasket on an old truck giving out. There was a pop and then a slow and low, blubbery sigh. You fought through your natural instinct to hold your breath and sniffed in deep. “Sorry Mr.Colt, Sir” you said, though since your mouth was pressed into his perineum it was more of a muffled munching sound.
“Louder.” He growled. He ground his ass harder into your face. He rocked it back and forth like he was trying to scratch an itch. With each movement another deep and dark note was sung from his ass. You sniffed in them all. Your stomach had gone sour. Your nose was filled with a near demonic scent brimstone, beef chili, and cheap tourist beer.
“Sorry, Mr. sir, Colt” you said. “I mean Colt, Mr. No, sorry sir.” Your brain must have been melting.
Colt punched you in the balls and your world began to spin. “It’s Sorry Mr.Colt, sir” he correct. You shouted it into your flesh prison as the farts still blasted. There seemed to be no end to his potent brew. The hours of gas held in while he was incredible. We’re he to rip them as they came to him there would scarcely be a moment in the day when he wasn’t belching out toxic fumes.
He rode on, rocking back and forth on your face like you were a yearling being tamed. He growled again. He was enjoying this. He was exorcising his anger with each rancid rip into your face. The brief whiffs of horse manure you caught were like fresh air compared to what his body was pumping out.
He dismounted you and pumped his fist. “Now that was cathartic.”
You lay there in stunned horror. You could hardly think. You had been slurring your words in the end. You weren’t sure if you were saying what he wanted of if you were just mouthing terrified sounds into his flesh. You crawled forward. Your stomach finally gave out and you heaved behind one of the stalls. Colt took this as a personal victory.
“Here’s what were going to do. Your going to take that hat and get it cleaned. Every day after today that its not back in my hands clean, and undamaged, were going to do this again– only I’m not going to go easy on you like I did to day. Then when its back in my position, were going to do it every day for the next two weeks as penance.” He said slipping into his denim.
“Two weeks af–” you puked again.
“Not going to lie: I kinda loved doing that. It’s like therapy. All of my woes and worries just seemed to fade away. Who knew all it took to treat my anger was to detonate some warheads on a guys face.”
You sweat again. You turned, wiping your mouth. He had squat down and was staring you in the face. “And if you complain to HR, or try to run and quit; I’m going to find you, and after what I do to you you’ll be begging for me to fart on you instead”
You wanted to scream, but those beautiful emerald eyes with the fire of hell behind them knew that it was far to late.
It had been two weeks since the incident with Colton. You cleaned off his hat and had it sent to the best leather restoration shop you could find.
You waited for him in the stables. Dumper, the horse, was lazily munching on oats and dropping a steady pile of manure behind him. If it weren't for that stupid horse you wouldn't be in this situation.
Your eyes flashed around the room: the corner bench, the wet hay pile, the post, dumpers steaming pile. You knew, depending on Colton's mood, that you were going to be laying down in one of them while he let out his pent up farts in your face.
The door opened.
Colton walked in.
He locked it in a hurry and quickly waved you over without saying a word. You obliged, and he grabbed your shirt with one meaty hand and lifted you to his face. A powerful belch washed over you. It was long, hot and sour.
You winced. "Strawberry sarsaparilla."
"Seven of them. Had to walk over here gentle like or else I might have exploded prematurely" he said as he let you down. "Hat?"
"It's done but they were closed today, so it will. It will be picked up first thing tomorrow" you said, almost pleading for mercy.
"Well then this makes this a double last day. Last day for you to suck down these farts, and my last day of working in this shitty tourist trap" Colt said. He was already pulling off his boots.
"You no longer going to work here? Where are you going?"
"Place up in Aspen. Guy bought a few hundred acers and is opening up an authentic Viking town. Still a tourist trap, but the pay is way better" he kicked off his boots and let his toes wiggle in the dirt. "I'm gonna play Thor. Living god of thunder." He grinned as he flexed his muscles and stuck out his tongue. "Know the best part?"
You didn't
"When I talked to the guy I asked about their in character policy, and what he thought about how much I fart. He said 'If your going to be Thor, god of thunder, then I expect you to be able to let rip with a thunderous blast whenever you feeline it." Colton was beaming with a vicious joy. "I beefed one for him right then and there and he gave me a bonus." He growled happily. "I'm gonna fucking fart on so many snot nose kids. It's gonna be payback for all the years at this place."
You almost looked sad. You never imagined Colton leaving. You were looking forward to not being sat on, but you felt you had started to make a friend.
"Don't you worry though. Today all this ass is for you" he pulled off his Wrangler and hung them up along with his back up stetson. It wasn't as nice as the other, but no self respecting Cowboy would go hatless. He was only wearing his dirty, yellow stained underwear. For someone who prided himself on looking so good, he sure loved to wear those old hole ridden things. You saw the rip in the left side when he snagged it on the wooden post seven days ago. You were so deep in his ass you felt his heart beating that day. You also saw the chestnut brown stain in the back. Your mind had blocked it out, but the sight of it caused the memories of 'The follow through' incident to rush back. Even dumper stood impressed that day.
He shook out his long hair. "This one should be memorable. Pulled out all the stops. Refried beans from the saloon, tub of sour cream I left out in the sun, a fish taco from that food truck that kept getting shut down, brussel sprouts filled with cheese and onion, and a six pack of warm Miller light." He rubbed his gut, and on cue it moaned so loud you could hear it from the door. "If I'm being honest I'm a little scared of what Ive been brewing all day."
He set his phone up on one of the stalls.
"You're going to record this?" You say.
"Yup. Guy who gave me the job wanted to see my work after I mentioned you and the hat situation. Between you and me I think he may have a thing for guys getting beefed on." Colt let out a short laugh. "Though, after two weeks of this I'm starting to think I might have a thing for farting on guys." He peeled his underwear down and his ass cheeks bubbles out one after another. Colton was no twink, nor was he a chiseled statue. He was thick. His ropey muscled were deep to the core. He had the fat in all the right places.
"So here's the game:" He grabbed you by the shirt and pulled you in. "You're a barnhand, and I'm the rancher who's trying to get information on who stole my whiskey shipment. Only you don't know, so I gotta get nasty with you"
Colton loved his games. He could get into it more when there was a story behind why he was being so gross.
Suddenly you were thrown back against one of the posts. Colton had a crazed look in his eye.
"Where is it! Who took it!" He had his juicy pit right in your face. "Not gonna talk eh? Well seeing as I can't skin you, well have to get creative. Lick my pits." He thrust the hairy thing at your mouth and began to paint his sweat on your face. "Drink it in. If I can't have whiskey this month then all your getting is my cold sweat."
You retched as you felt the salty hairs press past your lips.
He pulled back. "I got something for ya." He began hoarking back in his throat; snorting back his nose, building up an ungodly sized wad of phlegm and snot.
"No Colton, no don't. Not that" you say.
When he spat forth you instinctively dodged. The apple size ball of slime landed on the post beside you. You watched as the yellow and green blob oozes down like some gigantic slug.
Colton looks pissed. "You little bastard made me waste it. Well you just earned yourself some cowboy farts."
He forced you to the ground with one hand. He held you in place as he turned around. He was so tall he had to squat a bit to get his ass in your face. His foul underwear was twisted. His ass was mostly hanging out.
"Sniff it" he commanded.
You timidly leaned in and pressed your nose to the ridge of his crack. You could feel the heat coming off it. Colton was a nuclear reactor, and this was it's radioactive waste disposal shute.
He growled, like a wolf, in pleasure as he felt you do it. He began to lean back. He was slow and practiced. Your head hit the back of the post and his ass kept coming. It enveloped you like a carnivorous blob. Any sound you made was silenced by the warm bread dough fat of his ass. You couldn't see, but it sure felt like his cheeks went around you ear to ear.
The world was as dark and silent as a snowy night in the dead of winter.
Colton relaxed. While every fiber of hatred was aimed at your poor face, he was practiced in the art of farting. Tensing up would only make the ordeal easier on you. Instead he entered a near meditative state. Inside his guts relaxed. With but a tiny push, his asshole opened up and let loose with a sloppy and low belch. It was a deep bass note. A bear's warning growl. It was the type of fart that came from so deep, and was so rich, that it gave all those who heard it a warm feeling of relief.
Colton closed his eyes and smiled. He was sweating. For him this was the culmination of a whole night of brewing. He had given birth to a cloud he could be proud of. The fact that he had done it in someone's face though? That was what made his dick get all rubbery.
He had to reach up and grab the cross beam for support, for such an epic birthing had made his knees go weak. The fart went on for what seemed like days from your perspective. It was hot and steamy. It burned your eyes and your nose. Dumper the horse thrashed in his stall as Colton's dense gas filled the whole of the barn. He ground his ass up and down slowly on your face. Occasionally he would massage out a fresh pocket of gas, and like an engine blowing a gasket, there would be a deep pop or squelch followed by a grumbling gaseous sigh from his asshole.
He gave you several minutes to marinate before peeling his ass off your face.
"God damn I'm an going to miss nuking your face like that." He started to get dressed. He put on his undershirt and wranglers. He took his over shirt and draped it around you. "You ever find yourself in northern Colorado though, you look me up. I'll get you a job and then I can rip godly farts in your face again. Till then you're the cowboy here." He got his hat and walked on. He stopped by dumper. "Almost forgot." With one hand he lifted the horses tail and with the other he held the stetson under it. Dumper, the equine fudge factory, kicked into gear and filled the thing to the brim with a fresh load of manure. Colton walked back to you and leaned down. He pressed his lips to yours and roughly kissed you. His tongue poked so far town your throat you could feel it tickle your brains. His rough beard scratched your face.
He pulled away
"You can keep both hats" he said. He quickly flipped the manure filled stetson over and placed it on your head. A soft, moist, squish sealed it in place. He got up and flexed, giving you one last chance to watch his ass shift from side to side as he walked away.
There’s a special something about the first time I have some burgers after a couple of weeks of making sure to cook my own food. My ass was just letting them off one after another yesterday.
