#gassy wlw

[succubratty]

Sarah finally went camping with her bestie. - Part I

CW: fart kink/eproctophilia

The drive started out exactly how I had imagined it would—long, a little awkward, and somehow still charged with something I didn’t want to name. Kimmy drove like she always did, relaxed and effortless, one hand on the wheel while the other tapped along to the music, and every now and then she’d glance at me with that half-smile that made it impossible to tell whether she was about to say something nice or something that would ruin my life. I tried to act normal, focusing on the road ahead, but the combination of her presence and the slow, uncomfortable pressure building in my stomach made that harder by the minute.

At first, I thought I could ignore it, just breathe through it and wait for it to pass, but the longer we drove, the more insistent it became, until it was impossible to focus on anything else. I shifted slightly, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but of course she did. “You’re fidgeting,” she said casually, not even looking at me, and I immediately shook my head, replying too quickly with a “No, I’m not,” which only made her laugh under her breath.

I tried to redirect the situation before it got worse, telling her that next time we should rethink the snacks, maybe avoid anything that looked like it could glow in the dark, and she immediately turned it back on me, reminding me that I was the one who grabbed the gummy worms like they were treasure. “You had the sushi too,” I muttered, and she grinned, “I didn’t eat it, I’m not insane,” which, honestly, felt like a weak defense considering everything else.

The conversation stayed light, playful, the way it always was with her, but underneath it I was doing everything I could to stay still, to keep control, to not let the situation escalate into something I wouldn’t recover from. When I finally admitted—carefully, indirectly—that maybe we should find a bathroom soon, she just gestured at the empty highway and said, “Where? The trees?” and I groaned, telling her I refused to “embrace nature” like that, which only made her laugh harder as she called me dramatic.

I went quiet after that, focusing on breathing, on keeping everything contained, on pretending I was fine. For a moment, it almost worked. And then, without warning, something slipped out.

It was small, quick, but in the silence of the car it felt enormous. I froze instantly, staring straight ahead, hoping—irrationally—that if I didn’t react, she wouldn’t either. That hope lasted exactly as long as it took for her to turn her head slightly and go, “Was that—”

“The car,” I said immediately, the words coming out so fast they practically overlapped.

She repeated it—slowly, skeptically—“The car?” and I nodded, doubling down even though we both knew it made no sense. “Yeah, the car makes noises sometimes,” I insisted, and she let out a quiet laugh that quickly turned into something bigger, something she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Oh my god, Sarah,” she said between laughs, and I tried to defend myself, telling her it was barely anything, that she was exaggerating, that if she hadn’t insisted on buying half the gas station we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. “I didn’t force you,” she shot back, still laughing, “you chose chaos,” and I crossed my arms, muttering that I had been misled.

When she offered to open the window, I agreed instantly, but even that turned into a joke when she hesitated halfway, asking what if a bug flew in, and I told her I hoped it did, which made her laugh again before finally letting fresh air rush into the car. I exhaled, relieved, thinking maybe that was it, maybe I had survived the worst of it.

Then she said, way too casually, “Just so you know… I’ve been holding one in too.”

I turned toward her slowly, already shaking my head. “Don’t,” I said, and she smiled in that way that meant she absolutely was going to. When she told me she had self-control, I didn’t even hesitate before saying, “You don’t,” and she laughed, which was apparently all it took.

It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t accidental. It was confident, immediate, and impossible to ignore.

For a second, I just stared at her, completely stunned, and she stared back, trying—and failing—not to laugh. And then something in me just gave up. The embarrassment, the tension, all of it collapsed at once, and I started laughing too, the kind that builds too fast to stop.

“You said you had control!” I managed between breaths, and she shot back, “I lied!” while I told her to open the window more, even though it was already open, and she insisted it couldn’t go any further, and somehow that turned into both of us laughing even harder, arguing over nothing while completely losing any sense of composure.

By the time we calmed down, the car was quiet again, but not in the same way as before. The tension was gone, replaced by something easier, something shared.

And sitting there, still catching my breath, still feeling the warmth of that moment linger, I realized something I hadn’t expected.

This wasn’t how I had imagined the trip starting.

But maybe it was better this way.

By the time we reached the campsite, my face hurt from laughing.

And I knew, with absolute certainty, that this trip was already out of control. _________________________________ I’ve had this story sitting in my drafts for over a year. Life got busy, and honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it for a long time, which is also why I haven’t posted in a while.

But I finally came back to it, finished it, and decided to put it out there.

Part II will be up next week.

Thank you so much for reading. 💖

SuccuBratty 🥰

[succubratty]

Lily's Kinky Diary: Prelude to Disaster and an unexpected outcome.

CW: fart kink

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last three months, it’s this: Stephanie Thompson’s farts should come with a government warning label. I’m not exaggerating, if the Pentagon ever ran out of tear gas, they could just hire her.

Don’t get me wrong, Steph is beautiful, sweet, and genuinely one of the kindest people I’ve met since moving here. But she is also a one-woman methane factory. And the worst part? She enjoys it. Like, some people get embarrassed. Not Steph. Oh no, she thinks it’s hilarious.

Well that’s not the worst part, the worst part is that I have to fake I don’t get aroused by her foulness.

Sometimes she’ll hop in the car after class, slam the door, grin at me like a cartoon villain, and say —Ready for takeoff, Captain?— Then she’ll lift one cheek and "pppffffftttt" turn the car into a biohazard zone. 

I’ve had moments where I genuinely I had to run to the bathroom just to touch myself because she makes me incredibly wet. For a normal person, she’s so unapologetically herself that you kind of just sit there choking and laughing at the same time.

Little did I know, all of this was training, a bootcamp, if you will. Because one day, Stephanie’s farting abilities would be taken to their absolute limit. A day when she combined athletic cheerleading, gravity, and sheer bad timing into one of the most legendary, embarrassing (and hot) moments of my life.

That day… was the cheerleader stunt incident.

So, picture this: it’s a regular Wednesday. I’m sitting in the gym bleachers, minding my own business, watching Stephanie do her pom-pom Barbie routine with the cheer squad. Yes, she’s a cheerleader. Of course, she’s a cheerleader. It’s like she was genetically engineered in a lab called “Cliché Barbie Tropes Incorporated.”

Now usually, I just sit there, doodling in my sketchbook, and wait for her to finish flipping around.

One of her teammates had to leave early, something about a dentist appointment, or maybe she was just smart enough to escape, and they needed a fourth person to help with a stunt. Guess who Stephanie pointed at? Yep. Me.

 —C’mon, Lily, it’s easy! Just hold my foot and don’t let me die.— I was super unsure of this, but of course I went. Because apparently I cannot say no when someone waves a cheerleader smile at me, especially if it is Steph, she is so cute.

The stunt was simple: Stephanie stands on one leg while three of us hold her steady, like some sort of pyramid. First try? She wobbled like hell, I was so scared! Second try? She kinda almost-kicked me in the eye, and I was about to call it quits, I’m not a fan of those kinds of sports you know? But at the third try, third try was… working.

For like three glorious seconds.

And then…

She slipped.

Now, here’s the part where I could have just stepped back and let her fall into the big cushion that was behind me, but no. My dumb reflexes screamed, “CATCH HER!” So I did.

Big mistake.

Because Stephanie’s butt landed DIRECTLY on my face. Like, perfectly aligned. My nose went where right inside her bumhole even she tho she was wearing those tight short leggings. I could feel the wrinkles of her bum trying to hug me, kinda funny but this fall went so fast and hard.

My glasses got instantly broken into two perfect parts.

And THEN, oh god, when we both hit the mat, she released the kind of fart you only hear when you start a motorboat that has been idle for too long. I swear the gym windows rattled, or it was my skull? Probably somewhere in the distance, a dog started howling.

I blacked out. Not because of the fart, although it was powerful enough to be considered chemical warfare, but because when she fell, her butt basically whiplashed my head into the floor. I was like a minute out, Stephanie hovering over me, panicking, and her teammates looking over her shoulder.

—Lily?! Are you okay?! Say something! She said worried.—

I was so stunned like, and I just said with a shaky voice —…your ass just tried to assassinate me.—

Everyone laughed, even the coach, who never cracks a smile. Meanwhile, my glasses were broken in half and my soul had left my body to go find dignity somewhere else.

The dumbest part? Stephanie keeps telling everyone I “passed out from her fart.” Like I’m some Victorian maiden who fainted at the sheer power of her digestive system.

So, after “The Incident”, guess who still had to drive Stephanie home? Yep. Me. With a pounding headache, a purple forehead bruise the size of Kansas, and my glasses held together with duct tape that the coach lent me from the first aid kit.

So I’m behind the wheel, looking like a disaster. Stephanie is beside me, still in her sparkly uniform, and looking at me with shiny eyes. 

—You were so brave today, Lily. Like, you literally saved me from breaking my neck.— 

I tried to act upset, but I have this stupid impulse of making every bad thing that happens to me a joke. —Yeah, and in return, your ass tried to break my neck. Fair trade, I guess.—

She poked my shoulder, giggling —Oh my God, stop. Don’t say ‘ass,’ it makes me laugh.— And then she starts laughing so hard… she lets out another one. Loud like a trumpet. The kind that echoes in leather seats.

—…please tell me that was the seat. — I tell her, trying to act serious.

She snort-laughs like a child —Nope! That was aaall me.—

Of course, the car instantly got filled with her smell. Imagine a compost bin mixed with cafeteria nachos and gym socks. My cracked glasses are fogging up from the inside.

I rolled down my window. Stephanie rolled it back up.

—What are you doing?! — I was trying to act tough, but at this point I'm just trying not to laugh and not getting aroused with that bratty attitude.

—I’m gonna crash because I’m suffocating! And yes. No! Wait, what!?— I was so stumped, like the audacity of this girl.

—My mom says it’s dangerous to drive with the windows down. You could catch a cold breeze and crash. Also, do you have a fart fetish?— She said the last one so fast I couldn’t even process it.

—I knew it!— She said with a big smile on her face, and yes, she ripped another big one, and then she started yapping like it was nothing.

—When we fell down you couldn’t see anything because of my skirt, and maybe you couldn’t notice because you were knocked down, I don’t know really, but I could feel your crotch with my hands and you were so hard and wet.— She was so excited describing the situation, it was kind of unsettling and hot at the same time.

By the time we finally get to the building parking lot, and I’m kinda speechless, I was completely red out of embarrassment. 

—So you… you’re not weirded out?— I asked her.

This might sound insane, but things with Stephanie just… changed. Like, turbocharged changed. She gave me a small trusting smile.

—Oh god, no Lily. Confirming this is the most liberating thing that happened to me in a while. I have a fetish for it too, It started when my gas got much worse during my adolescence I couldn't understand a thing, and It was so embarrassing. This performative facade of toilet humor is just to hide my arousal every time this incontrollable bad gas happens to me.—

She explained it with such confidence and eloquence, but also it was like she was confessing a huge crime.

—Well, that explains a lot, really— I said with a relieved expression.

—When you ripped that huge gas in front of my mom, I knew you were the one, and during these three months we’ve been living together, I know how loud you are… I even… done lewd things to the thought of your farts, I just… feel safe with you, Lily. Like really safe. And I never feel that with anyone. Not even my mom.—

Before I could respond, she leaned over and kisses me. Right there, while I’m still gripping the steering wheel. And it wasn’t some polite peck, either, it was the kind of kiss that makes your brain reboot.

I was so numbed, Stephanie is a horny beast contained in a beautiful Barbie casing —Where did you learn to kiss like that?— I asked her, trying to sound cool, but I was so melted by that kiss, and the taste of her soft lips.

So, of course, we end up back at her apartment. One thing leads to another, clothes are flying, and suddenly I’m having the most unexpected hookup of my life.

Funny and hot thing at the same time: Stephanie… cannot… stop… farting. Like, every time we shift positions: ppfffft. When I unhooked her bra: pffllrrrp. At one point, mid-kiss, she giggled and—boom—braaap. I swear I almost swallowed a laugh.

But the wild thing? Neither of us cared. I was too dizzy from her being so gorgeous and sweet, and she was so comfortable like she trusted me enough to be her gassy, ridiculous self without shame.

Afterward, we’re lying there, her blonde hair was everywhere, her head on my boobs, and she sighed. —You know, if my mom ever found out about this, she’d probably call an exorcist.—

—Yeah, well, the demon’s already been summoned. And it’s called your butt.—

She laughed so hard, she let out one more. I think that’s our thing now. Most couples have candlelit dinners. We have Dutch ovens.

And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

_______________________________

Hey so this is the second part of how Lily's roommate find out she had this fetish, this was one of the first stories I ever wrote of Lily back in 2020, but it took me a lot of time to set it all up, and also again I've been extremely lazy.

I'm so happy to finally finish this.

Thank you so much for reading. 💖

SuccuBratty 🥰

[succubratty]

Between the lines:

Part I

CW: fart kink story

Okay, I never thought this could happen, and specially not on the place I work, so where do I begin?

My name is Rose, my teammates from work call me Ro, I’m a graphic designer in a big boring corporate company, don’t plan to be humble here, I’m good at what I do, I’ve been recommended several times from various departments directors to be art director, thing is chaos has always been my comfort zone, and that has led to other directors to hate me too, so I’m kinda stuck trying to climb this corporate ladder. 

At 28, I’m the kind of person who thrives on spontaneity—bold colors, big ideas, and a desk that looks like a tornado hit it. That’s me. Honestly I don’t feel the urge to climb, I know eventually I will, it's just a matter of time, but too much responsibility overwhelms me. So, when I got assigned to work with Elena, I wasn’t exactly thrilled.

She’s everything I’m not—calm, composed, and impossibly organized. At 35, she’s one of the company chief editors, a master at crafting the perfect message and connecting with people like she’s known them forever. Her campaigns are thoughtful and polished, every word chosen with care, and she hates my guts, because In a few occasions I’ve designed things completely opposite to the things she was proposing, and the bosses liked it. 

It wasn't my intention, she’s amazing at communicating stuff, but I came up with a better and faster way to make the same thing through my designs, It was super impulsive, and It was just a proposal didn't think the CEO would like it so much, I apologized to her, but I think I made things worse.

I had a brief meeting with Millie, head of the design department and my direct boss, —You can’t fuck this up Ro, get along with her, she asked for you, she’s going to be your direct boss for this project, I cannot defend you this time, If you can go through this I’ll recommend you to be an art director, we're making a new team In a new area, can’t give you the details now, promise me you’ll pull this through.— I mean, I couldn’t say no.

When I got out of Millie’s office, I ran so fast to the bathroom, god my stomach was killing me! I was recently diagnosed with IBS and everything started to have so much sense, It was a bummer really I’m lactose intolerant since I was a child, and adding another tummy illness to the list was so upsetting, I’m very careful with what I eat and that helps me a lot, but sometimes when I’m this nervous, I just built and built gas.

Good thing for me, Is that I found a single bathroom In a very far, far away compound of offices in the same floor, they were renovating them, and It hasn’t been in use for almost a year, that bathroom, Is heaven, I can be the loudest and break wind in peace, especially when having these IBS crisis.

While farting my life out, I was thinking how am I going to work with Elena, I don’t know really, "I’m going to just to show myself at her office and expect the worse I guess" I thought to myself.

I was coming out of the bathroom when I hear her behind me —Good it was you Rose, I wouldn’t mistake that high bun mixed with that casual unpolished style of yours.— I could sense the poisonous tone in her voice.

When I turned back to answer she was very close, she’s so tall like almost 5’7 the fact that she’s wearing those high heels doesn’t help either, and I’m just 5’ I felt so minuscule in front of her, I’m not gonna lie, she’s stunning, her makeup is on point, and her entire office outfit made her look like a supermodel. 

—You’ve waited me here the whole time?— I said nervously, I was more embarrassed than anything, I was hoping she didn’t hear me. 

—I was expecting to find you at Millie’s, but you already left, that’s when I saw the pins of your buns so yup, kinda did, I didn’t know this compound of offices even existed, this building is huge.—

—Yeah, it is.—  I said, laughing nervously.

—Yeah whatever, I guess I’m going to be your boss for this project, so would you like to accompany to my office please?—

She’s so bossy, and she treats me like a little kid, I felt like some kind of child that needed to be constantly supervised, I hate that feeling. So we started working.

At first, we clashed hard. She’d raise an eyebrow at my wild ideas, and I’d roll my eyes at her endless need for “structure.” But somewhere between our arguments over fonts and her insistence on “strategic storytelling,” I started noticing the little things.

Like the way her voice softened when she talked about the audience she was writing for. Or the way her eyes lit up when she found just the right word. And then there was her laugh—rare, but warm enough to melt my resolve every single time.

But she ended up things so abruptly she was compelled to be passive-aggressive with me, I guess she wanted revenge for the hard time I gave her in the past, and she was being hurtful, especially saying things about my appearance and infantilizing me, and I was so tired of that, It was our third day late in the afternoon, and she started a huge fight because she didn’t like the layout I made for a design.

—Oh, give me a break, Rose. You think everyone’s so in love with your little ideas because you’ve got that quirky, artsy vibe going on? Please. People only listen to you because you act like some wide-eyed genius who stumbled in with all the answers. That high bun, those oversized sweaters—it's like you're trying to play the part of the plucky underdog, but it’s all just... a gimmick.—

—A gimmick? That’s what you think this is?— I asked her, upset and kinda sad, really.

—I don’t know, maybe if you didn’t look like a teenager who raided a thrift store, people wouldn’t fawn over you like you’re some prodigy. It’s exhausting, honestly.— 

She said this with that sarcastic tone I hate, at that point, I was just angry.

—Exhausting? You know what’s exhausting, Elena? Listening to someone who can’t handle the fact that I’m good at what I do. This isn’t a gimmick—it’s me. Maybe you should stop trying so hard to pretend I’m the problem and assume you make a huge, ridiculous effort to infantilize me when you only want to hide the fact that the only one acting like a vengeful eight-year-old is you!—

I said this crying, I finally made her shut up, her reaction in her face, she didn’t know how to answer back, I fucked things up, It was time to say goodbye to that recommendation for being an art director, then it hit me, I wasn’t only crying for her hurtful words, my IBS, my tummy it hurt like hell, I was squatting with my hands on my stomach, everything happened so fast.

I expelled the biggest fart ever in front of Elena, it was so loud, and it lasted forever, and the smell, was like rotten eggs, I filled the room in seconds, and it wasn’t a tiny office. 

—Rose?—

I looked up to see Elena standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable. Great. Just what I needed.

—Are you okay?— she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

—Fine, nope, not really— I said sharply, though my voice wavered. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the couch she had in her office, trying to hide my embarrassment and how much I was struggling.

Elena didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at me with those sharp, calculating eyes of hers. —You don’t look fine— she said finally, taking a step closer.

—It’s just my IBS messing up with me and this is just really embarrassing— I said her trying to hide myself from crying, but I couldn’t. 

Before I could protest, she helped me to sit on her couch, she sat next to me and started to caress my tummy.

—What are you doing?— I asked, wincing as another cramp hit me.

—Relax, put your head on my lap— she said this with a very delicate tone I’ve never heard from her.

I didn’t have the strength to argue, so I slowly rested my head on her lap, her perfume mixed with my rotten eggs made a weird mixture. Elena handed me a some tissues so I can soak my tears and blow my nose.

We stood there in silence for a while, the hum of distant traffic filling the space between us.

—So the rumbling coming from that bathroom the other day I followed you, it, was you?— I was covering my face red of embarrassment, —Yes it was me, can you please stop making fun of me? I’m sorry for everything I made you feel in the past, but I don’t think I deserv…”

—I didn’t mean to upset you— Elena interrupted me, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. —You didn’t just upset me— I said, my voice low but steady. —You tore me down, Elena.—

She winced, looking down at her shoes. —I know— she said quietly. —I was out of line. I’m sorry.—

A big thunderous gas expelled from me interrupted the conversation, she kept caressing my tummy and her warm hands felt so good. —I’m sorry you have to smell this part of me.—

—Don’t worry— she said, her voice barely above a whisper. —I have a… thing, for gassy girls.—

I didn’t answer right away. The knot in my stomach was loosening now, the pain fading into a dull ache. I let out a slow breath, did she just confess to me that she has a fart fetish of some kind?

—You what?— I said, finally turning to look at her with my blushed face.

Her eyes met mine, and for once, there was no trace of her usual sharpness. Just something softer, something I didn’t quite know how to place.

—I like girls who fart, I like you Ro— This is her first time calling me Ro, and for the first time I could see an expression of vulnerability in her face, she was embarrassed and blushed.

—Ew, that is so gross!— I said jokingly, I was expecting for her to be angry about my reaction, but she was with this blushed horny face. —Yes it is gross, I am gross— she said, and I felt her thighs moving under my head, that could mean only one thing, she got wet from my comment. 

This was unexpected, but hot at the same time, then I did something very impulsive, maybe because I was getting horny too, I just kissed her, and she answered immediately, I could feel the taste of her lipstick, It was a long slow sloppy kiss.

Even tho she acted very subby when I called her gross, she just dominated me, maybe because she was bigger than me, she grabbed me firmly and started touching my entire body, her pace was so nice, my heart was racing so fast, she pulled my sweater and my blouse and started eating my boobs, good thing nobody was in the office at time, because I’m a loud moaner.

It was so clear that her intentions were going down my belly, and while she was poking my nipples with her tongue I tried to think of the last time I had sex, it was five years ago, with a frat boy, last week before graduating from college, worst sex I ever had period, and the reason I started disliking men in general. 

This, this was different, I thought while her hot breath was travelling down my tummy, I could feel she was ravenous, but in a very controlled way, when her lips touched my pussy I just screamed, I was embarrassed, I never had someone eating me out, I thought my satisfyer was all I needed, but oh girl I was wrong. 

And then It happened I was so relaxed that, I just farted in her face and instead of stopping she started eating my ass —Elena that’s dirty, I’m sweaty down there…— I couldn't say more, because she started giving me long licks from my ass to my clit, and I was about to burst, I came so hard I almost passed out, I squirted her face.

Elena laid down in the couch hugging me, she told me she came like three times in a row when I farted on her.

In the end, working with Elena had a completely unexpected outcome. Late nights in the office turned into wild fetishist sex. I started looking forward to her steady presence, her ability to make sense of my chaos. She’d polish my rough edges, and I’d nudge her out of her comfort zone. Somehow, we just… fit.

For someone who thrives on unpredictability, falling for Elena was a twist I didn’t see coming. But now, I can’t imagine anything more thrilling than the thought of her being part of my chaotic life.

I wonder if she started developing a crush on me just because of me being a gassy, scandalous IBS girl. I want to think that she likes me for something more than this, I’m afraid to ask her.

_____________________________

If you came this far I thank you, In the second part I'll explore with the doubts Ro is having towards Elena. 😳

Thanks for reading it 💖 

See you all soon.

SuccuBratty 🥰