the Master

[7kbuttcheeks2]

Lost Bet: Game Day Fart Couch

This was for Super Bowl LVIII, that was the longest in history!

...

I drove down the highway with my stomach in knots. Dread was creeping over my hands as I got off the exit. It was Superbowl Sunday, and I was about to suffer the consequences of a bet which I knew I’d never live down.

Two weeks ago I was with my buddies watching the game at our favorite bar. There was Jimmy, Henry, Ethan, and Carter all drinking beer and sharing nachos. I stuffed a few of the cheap chips and thick cheese spread thinking of how to answer Jimmy’s question.

“C’mon, who do you think’ll win, Will? You gotta choose right or else,” He giggled. The others chuckled along. We all knew what “or else” meant, the punishment for losing that could only come from Jimmy’s demented mind. The others were doing well with their game predictions. I on the other hand only came for the beer and company. Since I didn’t care about football or follow teams or trends, all my guesses were shots in the dark, each time missing. It was just me against Henry now, and whoever lost this game would be sentenced to “stink hell”.

I was nervous trying to gamble. With no reason other than liking the idea of a strong lion, I said “Detroit.”

“Alright, then Henry you got 49ers.” Jimmy smirked, running his fingers through his blond hair. We watched the TV with anxiety, the others looking forward to seeing one of us defeated.

As the game went on, my stomach churned more and more. It was over for me. The Lions lost and the guys cheered for Henry, patting him on his back.

“You know what that means, don’t you Willy?” Jimmy shot at me with his devilish smile.

I groaned. The Super Bowl was going to suck for me. Especially for my nose.

…

I parked my car outside Jimmy’s apartment and rang the buzzer. He lived in the basement unit and I walked down the brick stairs to his patio. When he opened the door he was giddy. “Hey the loser’s here! You ready for the best day of your life?”

“Oh fuck off,” I tried to laugh. I didn’t want to be mean to him but I was pissed at Jimmy’s insistence on these over the top bets he made us participate in. Like he was jigsaw watching over the torturous games.

Walking through his living room the smell of cheeses and meats wafted around. I saw one crockpot with BBQ meatballs and another with Italian beef. There was a pan of baked beans, another with roasted broccoli. I even smelled a pot of curry. This mix made me cringe knowing Jimmy chose that atypical game food on purpose. And a fridge full of bottles of beer.

The others were hanging around already drinking, and they called my name and cheered.

Ethan said, “Let’s hear it for our Fart Huffer everyone!”

I groaned while they cheered for me. Jimmy then led me to the Couch.

Where he gets his ideas, I have no clue. As if he were an immature school boy with the mind of a mad scientist. The Couch was bought used over Facebook and sat three people. Jimmy had modified the cushions so that each one had a hole that someone could sit over. Two of the holes were smaller and opened to some tubing, the third was large went right down into the hidden chamber inside the couch. Looking down into it, I could see a pillow ready for my head to rest.

Jimmy said, “now put your wrists together, yep that’s it. Carter you can do the honors,”

Carter walked up to me holding some thin red rope and started tying my hands together.

“So, wait,” I laughed nervously, “I thought it was just gonna be a hole in the seat,”

“Oh no buddy, I had to make sure you can get the full experience.” He led me to the back of the couch and slid a long panel up to show me the cushioned area. It was like climbing into a coffin, or a book nook, or one of those Japanese hotel pod rooms with only a bed. I saw that the tubes were tied up and pointed toward the pillow. When I laid down on my back I could see the ends of the tubes pointing right at my face.

“And the last touch,” Jimmy surprised me by pulling an old seatbelt over my chest and clicking into the side. He tightened it before clicking a second seatbelt over my thighs.

“Ugh this is so stupid,” I said, “All this for a few farts?!” I tried to keep acting nonplussed but I was starting to feel nervous and claustrophobic. I didn’t realize that I’d be bound to the couch.

“Not a few, Will, we got all night.” And without warning he stretched a length of duct tape that he must have grabbed when I wasn’t looking and quickly strapped it over my mouth. I was too shocked to react at first, my eyes bulging and trying to move my mouth or speak. I started hyperventilating through my nose. He winked and then shut the panel. The others had been watching this all and were laughing at us. Laughing at me.

I rest my head back. How long would this game go on for? Jimmy said the loser would have to “sniff farts all through the game” but I didn’t know how far he was going to take this. I should have guessed it was going to be worse than I’d imagined.

He then appeared through the hole over my face looking down at me with his light blue eyes and asking “Ready for round 1?”

“MMPH?”

He twisted around and plopped back onto the cushion. It was dark inside the couch until I heard him fumble on the side and suddenly a few small LED lightbulbs went on, glowing against his jeans-covered ass. My makeshift bed was close enough to the cushions that I could already start to smell Jimmy’s musk through his denim.

“Some help for you to really appreciate your surroundings,” He laughed. I stared up at my friend’s ass and sighed. I’d have nothing else to look at for the next several hours except for his ass. And the asses of the others for when they’d no doubt switch places for.

The couch creaked with two others sitting on the other cushions. I heard Henry say “Can I rip now? I’ve been holding them in all day,”

“Of course. The inaugural blast. Make sure to press that button like I told you.”

What button?

Then the sound of Henry’s farting ass echoed through the tube and against the interior walls of the couch coffin.

PPTPRTPRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

The others laughed at the length and sound of the blast. I heard someone high five him. And a moment later, I heard more noise, the whirling of a fan. Air blew through the tube and across my face, carrying the fart stink with it. I immediately started gagging, my skin burning as the tape clung to my coughing mouth. It stunk pretty bad, like he was going to take a shit soon.

“Enjoy the fart fan?” Jimmy tried looking through the gap between his crotch and the cushion lining, “Made it so you don’t have to wait for their stink to reach you!”

The fart cloud wafted over my head and the stink wasn’t getting any weaker. I clenched my eyes shut. He’d built small fans into each tube so all they had to do was press a button on the couch to make the farts shoot out right up my nose.

“Hope you have fun in fart heaven, Will, the game’s about to start.” Jimmy said with a smile in his voice. I watched in horror as he pulled his jeans down, mooning me his smooth pale cheeks and ass crack, shaved taint, and showing me his pink asshole. Without any clothes, the ass that was only a few inches from my face began to stink up the air around me.

I buckled against the restraints that kept me on my back but couldn’t roll over. I heard another fart rip through one of the tubes before it was blasted into my face. This was going to be a long hell reeking of gassy assholes…

…

The first hour dragged on. I could hear my friends having fun above me commenting on the game, drinking their beer and burping, chatting about life, all as if I weren’t in the room. They only acknowledged me when one of them ripped a fart. If Jimmy had gas I’d watched his ass shuffle a bit and the disgusting sight of his asshole puckering and farting. see him try to peer down at me with an evil smirk, knowing that without any clothes to cover him, I could feel the gas puff right against my face. His farts were pretty gross, making me think he had helpings of broccoli with breakfast as well, along with feeling the heat against my skin. I was afraid I’d throw up into the duct tape and choke to death. When one of the other two farted they’d press the button to activate the fan inside the tube and their farts would be like a punch to the face. And because there were very few air holes around me, each fart hung stale in the air and the couch was getting more and more stuffy with body heat and lingering farts that had nowhere to go but up my nose.

My face was mere inches away from the source of Jimmy’s noxious fumes, and I could feel the vibrations of each fart as it ripped over my nose. I tried to hold his breath, but it was no use. With each passing minute, the stink became more unbearable, and my eyes began to water.

If the stink wasn’t going to kill me, the boredom would. I had nothing to do but lay there staring up at Jimmy’s naked ass to constantly remind me how much of a loser I was. I couldn’t hear what was going on in the game, only my friends’ reactions. And the sound of their assholes seemed to echo in the couch and amplified some to ear-piercing volume, making me flinch as if they were farting right into my ears. I was getting a headache from the stink.

From somewhere above a timer went off and Jimmy said, “Alright, switch places!”

He stood up, yanking his jeans back on in the process and giving me only a moment of fresh air as some of the fart cloud left through the cushion hole. My eyes squinted at the flood light above and I tried sucking through Henry’s latest gas bomb so I could get some sweet fresh air.

“Lord have mercy,” Jimmy fanned his nose, “You’re not doing a good job sucking down all our gas, Fart Sniffer.”

“MMPH!” I was getting more angry with Jimmy as time went on. This was really too much for a stupid bet on football teams.

But he walked away and I saw Ethan take his place. He looked down at me through the hole and said, “Sorry for what’s about to come out of my ass, bud,” before turning around and pulling his jeans down. He sat his hairy ass down over the seat with his ass hole at the center of my gaze. I’d seen Ethan’s naked ass before because one of his favorite jokes was to photo-bomb people while mooning behind their backs, but being this up close and personal really forced me to appreciate just how hairy his crack and gooch were. The same hair carried his musk from both his crack and balls. It felt hot against my face and the stink slowly took over my nose. I grimaced, hoping that somehow his farts would be “better” somehow than what I had to go through under Jimmy. They weren’t.

PPPPREPTPTRPTPRPTPPPPP

His puckered asshole let out a blast that defined my ears from bouncing off the walls. The heat made me gag before I could even react to the stench. It was beefy, probably from the chili and nachos I smelled earlier, only now at the end of its journey through Ethan’s guts. I coughed into my gagged mouth, listening to my friends laugh at the sound.

“Damn you really got reverb off that one!” I heard Carter say.

It didn’t take long for the other asses on the couch to start pumping out more farts. I winced with fear that at any moment someone would use the fan button to inject their fart up my nostrils. My eyes watered from the lingering stink that had been building up inside the couch.

Then Ethan said, “Oh no I got another big one, brace yourself Will,” And I watched his fingers come down to spread his cheeks wide. I stared in horror at his asshole puckering, shutting my eyes just before

PPPRPTPRTPRTPRPTPPPPPPPPPPP

I screamed into my gag. It was the same awful beefy cheesy funk from earlier, but hotter and louder and somehow thicker. My skull rattled from the sound and the pressure. They were dying of laughter above me. My eyes were stinking and I kept them shut as hard as I could. But I couldn’t pinch my nose or breathe in through my mouth. I had no choice but to gag with each breath.

…

Jimmy’s timer went off and Ethan stood up. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t sniff through the fart cloud and get any fresh air in before the next naked ass plopped down and started my next hour of stink hell. Carter was athletic and, like Jimmy, a blond boy who kept his ass shaved. The manscaping made it less gross to look at, but his pink asshole still stunk from such a short distance so it wasn’t that much of an improvement. The seatbelts keeping my body down were uncomfortably digging into my skin and my wrists ached from being tied up. I was glad to hear the halftime concert in the background, I hoped that meant I was at least halfway through this torture.

I heard some muttering over me, and then my heart dropped when the guys on the couch chanted “Three, two, ONE!”

All three asses farted at once, the echoing from the tubes amplified along with Carter’s bare asshole and pierced my ears. The gust from Carter’s ass hit like a punch and the blasts from both tube fans made me feel disoriented. I screamed again because the three farts mixed together into a vile cocktail of nachos, beans, curry…a horrible mix of all the night’s game foods washed down with beer formed an ungodly stink that had farted out all over my face at once. I thought I was going to die.

They were laughing and high fiving again, not caring how miserable I was. “Fuckin A dude, I don’t know if Will’s gonna make it out of there alive,”

Like with the earlier farts, the stink lingered. At first I thought it would feel like an eternity. Then I realized it would be for eternity for how little fresh air could get into the couch. I was feeling tired and dizzy, claustrophobic, and with a headache that was getting worse. I tried imagining if I’d won the bet and got to enjoy the game while waiting for my turn to fart bare assed in the loser’s face. If I’d known how bad it would be for the person in the couch, I wouldn’t have agreed to this. I don’t think any of them really thought much other than “that would suck”. I vowed that I’d challenge Jimmy to the same wager the next time the opportunity came up and make him have a taste and smell of his own evil mind.

Another fart tore through the pipe and the fan made it gust into my nose. I thought I was going to go crazy down there.

…

Hours passed, and my friends were still going strong. They were determined to make the most of this bet and were constantly trying to outdo each other with their farts. I felt like I was in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

The last hour of the game. One more hour and I’d be free. I kept thinking that to myself while staring at Henry’s hairy ass over me. He has more hair than Ethan did, thick black hair all over his cheeks and crack. As if I were looking up at a werewolf’s ass. He told me it was his Persian father that gave him this curse. And as stinky as it was, and how gross it was to look at the sweat matting the hair down in his crack, I was nervous that he hadn’t farted yet. I wasn’t sure how long it had been, at least five farts had echoed out of the tubes since he sat down.

Then I saw his asshole move a bit. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the next awful feeling and the ear shattering sounds. Instead, it was a quiet hiss of air.

Holy fuck did it reek. It was like he shoved deviled eggs up his ass hours ago. I thought I would puke through my gag. I’d been sweating and anxious for a while now, and this was sending me over the edge. I fought against the seatbelts hoping I could somehow will myself to break through the restraints. All that did was get Jimmy’s attention,

“Sounds like Will is really enjoying our gas tonight!”

I wanted to fucking kill him. Henry’s farts had gotten worse over the evening. The heat was making me feel nauseous and every single fart from earlier still lingered in the air, making it feel sickly humid and swampy. This had turned into the most disgusting experience I’d ever had in my life.

And another silent deadly fart seeped out over my face.

I tried screaming “I need a break!” but the tape had muffled it to a pathetic whimper. Tears were streaming out of my eyes. Another fan whirled on and shot an SBD from one of the other asses above me. I needed this hell to be over.

“Oh, oh SHIT!” I heard them making a fuss. Something happened in the game. Probably an epic play that I wouldn’t be able to talk about with any of my other friends or coworkers, because I was a loser who spent the superbowl being farted on instead of watching and having fun.

Then Jimmy said something that chilled me, “Uh, you’re not gonna like this Will, but it looks like they’re going into overtime.”

Fuck me. It wasn’t fair.

Henry’s ass let out an ugly sounding plop of a fart,

PPRPTRPTPPPP

I dry heaved into the duct tape.

…

Another shift brought Jimmy’s ass over me. This time all the foods he’d prepared had worked their way through his guts and made his gas much more potent than before. I’d sweat through my shirt, feeling almost delirious from the constant barrage of farts. The beans, curry, broccoli, the whole works had sent my friends’ asses into overdrive, the fans going off every few minutes to drown me in more farts. The air felt ten degrees hotter than it did when I first got in, a heat that only rose with each pump of gas.

The game went into double overtime. So far, the only Super Bowl to ever go into double overtime. The gods of fate really hated me that day. I could do nothing but stare at Jimmy’s pink asshole as I was falling into sensory overload with the sounds, stink, and hot sticky air. I still don’t know how I didn’t end up vomiting in my mouth that night.

Over and over I had to breathe in every type of fart. Silent and deadly, loud and obnoxious, short poots, long drawn out farts, several popping off in a row, all to the constant laughter of my friends that got more and more cruel as the night went on.

Double overtime.

Shutting my eyes didn’t keep me from suffering the stink, or hearing the sounds of their assholes, or feeling the hot air from the pipes or from Jimmy’s naked asshole, or from feeling the vibrations against my skin or the sweat on my face that had to be holding all the stink with it.

And Jimmy was over the moon. He showed off his farting talent by ripping one that felt like it lasted a whole minute, which got everyone to cheer. They were impressed while I had to take it point blank in my face, making my stomach churn.

The only Super Bowl in history to go into double overtime.

I had nothing to do but stare at Jimmy’s asshole and pray that it wouldn’t break that record.

…

“Alright, your time’s up Will.”

I felt like his voice was from somewhere far off. I didn’t even react when the back panel of the couch slid open until the gust of fresh air slapped me in the face. I sucked it into my nose, breathing “clean” air for the first time in hours.

“Dear god that reeks!” Jimmy cackled with delighted disgust. The others walked around just to get a quick whiff of a fraction of what I’d suffered all night, thick and concentrated.

“Jeezus,” I heard Henry join in, “That must have sucked dude I’m sorry,”

If I weren’t exhausted and still duct taped, I would have swore at him. Sucked was the lightest way to put it.

Jimmy helped me out of the belts that had left red marks in my skin and freed my hands. My wrists and back were sore. My headache pounded worse as he ripped the tape off my face making my skin sting.

“Ah well it was fun while it lasted. Not sure what to do with this couch now. Maybe we ought to bring this punishment back in the future.”

The others laughed nervously. None of them really wanted to get the full experience that I had.

…

That night I took a long shower before I went to bed. No matter how much I scrubbed, my face still felt dirty, and I couldn’t tell if I kept smelling their gas because so many fart particles had glued to the inside of my nostrils or that I was getting PTSD flashbacks and the memory of the stink wouldn’t go away.

I fell asleep thankful it was all over, and hoping I could get my revenge on Jimmy soon. But that night I dreamt I was back in the fart couch, staring at a dozen naked asses all sticking through holes along each side of me and letting out a symphony of farts. I kept screaming in the dream but no one came to save me. Instead I saw Jimmy’s evil smirk as he turned around, spread his cheeks, and made his pink asshole meet my nose and let a fart so loud it shook my skull and burned through the back of my throat and into my lungs.

I woke up with a jolt. It was just a nightmare. A horrible nightmare.

One that I would have every night for several weeks afterward. The Super Bowl was over, but I was still trapped in the fart couch.

[7kbuttcheeks2]

In the Speed Dating Booth

This story is for 18+, is fictional, and includes fart sniffing. If any of this is a problem, don't read. I wrote this back in college and remember being overwhelmed by how gross it seemed to me at the time, and how much I'd love to live this fantasy

…

A guy learns about his best friend's gross fetish and decides to put it to good use

…

Kevin came into my room frantic, his face red

“Oh, hey dude,” I said, my book still in hand. It took me a minute to register how frazzled he was acting. He had a nervous twitch going on and he started speaking rapidly,

“Listen, we’ve been friends for a long time, right?” He had his hands up.

Since back in high school, “yeah?”

“And we can be open with each other, right?”

“Of course,” I put the book down. Kevin is one of the chillest guys I know, so seeing him on edge like this made me frown.

“Ok,” he started pacing, which he usually did to help him think something out, “So, I signed up for a booth at the speed dating fair.”

Oh, this is about girls; that explains it. Every year, our college sets up a “speed dating fair”, where they have a bunch of booths around the gym, and you’d sign up to stand at a booth and others would circulate and have like 5 minute convos with you. It was just a fun way to get single people on campus to know each other.

“That’s great, Kev,” I put on a half smile. Maybe there was some jealousy behind it. I don’t know, I’ve known Kevin for years and couldn’t help but develop a little crush on him. It’s dumb, because he’s straight, so there’s no point in wishing. I should be happy he’s putting himself out there, “Good for you. I’m sure you’ll meet a lot of cool girls.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” he started rubbing the back of his head, “The problem…you know how I’m always gassy?’

This perked my ears up. Kevin was always farting, and they always embarrassed him. I would laugh and tell him I didn’t care and he could rip in front of me, but he always tried to keep them quiet and would blush. He’s cute like that. But there’s another thing that Kevin doesn’t know about me; my massive fart fetish. I have no idea how it came to be, but there’s nothing I find hotter than having my face pressed into a man’s ass while he rips farts up my nose. Or, at least, that’s what I’d want to happen with me some day. Despite my desires, I’ve never opened up to anyone about these weird fantasies. I laughed, ‘Dude, if you feel gassy, just hold them in. Or take beano or something, no one will notice at the fair if that’s what’s freaking you out,”

“It’s not just that,” he explained, “I always get even more gassy when I’m nervous or anxious, and worrying about letting one slip will make me even more anxious, and it’s a vicious cycle that will make so much gas build up, I’m sure I’ll accidentally slip one out and it will make a huge noise or it will smell bad and everyone will laugh at me.”

“Dude, I think you’re overreacting-,” I chuckled

“Dillon,” His voice was serious, “I need your help.”

He always called me “Dill Pickle”, he never used my full name unless he was serious, which wasn’t common. But how could I possibly help him, “What are you talking about? Other than recommending some kind of pills and saying ‘don’t eat gassy foods’, there’s not much I can - ,” “I know about your…” he paused, before adding, “fetish”

I raised an eyebrow. On the outside, my face was blank, but on the inside, I was screaming. This had to be a joke, right? There’s no way he could have found out; I’m always so careful about it. He looked uncomfortable, more so than when he walked in. He furrowed his eyebrows and started rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked so cute, his messy black hair and stubble, when he seemed concerned. But I still didn’t know what he was talking about. After an awkward pause, he said,

“I know you like farts.”

Then my eyes widened. He couldn't know that, could he? I forced out a laugh, “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to play dumb,” I felt my face get red, he continued, “I’ve borrowed your laptop before; your YouTube watch history is full of videos of guys farting on each other, a lot of ‘atomic sit-ups’, like where guys are pranked into doing a sit up and smacking their faces into their buddy’s asses, your history links to a lot of stories about fart sniffing, fart slaves, other fetish stuff… no offense, but your porn video history is just flat out disgusting.” He let out a nervous laugh.

I felt like my stomach was about to come up out of my mouth, and I could barely breath. He knew?! All this time he knew how weird I was and didn’t’ say anything?! Why didn’t he bring it up ever? And why is he telling me this now?! I felt my hands tremble on my legs. I wanted to say something, defend myself, but I couldn’t speak; I sat there in shock.

“Look dude, I don’t care,” He brought his hands up, “I don’t care that you’re gay or that your into this kind of stuff. Different strokes for different folks, right? If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you my fetish: I like women’s feet. I want to rub them, massage them, sniff their socks, kiss their soles, and suck on their toes. There; now we’re even. Now let me finish, because I have a plan that will help me with my problem, and I think you would love to be a part of it.”

My head was spinning. I was still flabbergasted by the fact that he found out about my fetish. I thought I was so careful! But also I was curious as to what the possible fuck he would even to bring this up for.

“You know how there are booths against the wall, and those have like this weird curtain thing around them? Well in case you don’t know, they set up the booths to go around the edge of the individual sections. I remember going to the fair last year, and it looks like no one can see beyond the middle of the person’s belly when they stand there.”

I remember going to the fair with him, and yeah, they were tall booths. I still had no idea where he was going with this, or what this had to do with me.

“Alright, so here’s my proposal,” He coughed, still shaking, “And I know this sounds weird, but again, I think you’ll like it and we can both benefit from it: I want you to be my fart vacuum.”

My eyebrow was still raised, and my heart was racing, “…what does that even mean?”

“Instead of holding them in, I’m going to let them out. Really soft and quiet. There’s music, so unless I have a really big fart, no one will hear me pass gas. And as long as there’s a constant stream of gas seeping out, there won’t be a chance to let out a huge, audible one. That would be fine enough, but thanks to the curtain holding them down there, there’s a good chance that any sudden movement will open a hole or something and all that nasty gas will seep out and it’ll be obvious to any girl who walks by that I’ve been ripping ass for the past hour or whatever.”

I felt my cock twitch in my pants.

He continued, “That’s where you come in; I want you to hide behind the booth; no one will see you. And here’s how I thought it out. You’ll be crouching behind me. When I need to pass gas, I’ll lean forward and stick my butt toward you. Then, I want you to press your face against my ass, as tight as you can so none of it gets out, and I want you to sniff up all of the gas until there’s no scent left. Or breathe it in your mouth, I don’t care what you do so long as you’re the only one who smells it. The event lasts two hours, so we’ll need to get there before they set up, and stay after they leave.”

My cock was rock hard. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening, that my best friend [how many times have I fantasized about him? How many times did I jerk off to the idea of burying my face into his gassy ass?], was actually giving me the offer of a lifetime! He walked right up in front of me, turned around, and bent over.

“You interested? If so, I really need to fart right now, and we could both use practice being as quiet as we can so no one finds out about this. If you are, get down here now and let’s start training. If not, I understand.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause, with Kevin looking over his shoulder at me, frozen, seeing what I’d do. His butt was hugged by his jeans…it looked so hot from this angle. My cock was rising in my pants. Once in a lifetime, why pass it up? I jumped down to my knees and nearly dove face-first in between my best friend’s ass cheeks. The fart he let out was short, but airy. There was a bit of a prrrp coming out. It puffed against my face. His cheeks jiggled a bit against my cheeks, I brought my hands up and grabbed onto his waist, squeezing it as I snorted up deeply, vulgarly. Normally I would be too embarrassed to act like this, but if my friend knew I was a filthy fart sniffer, I didn’t have reason to pretend I wasn’t. I sighed, shaking, my face burning with lust, still pressed up into his butt, “Oh, fuck,” I moaned. His fart lingered in the fabric of his jeans, the scent of a man’s musky ass.

Kevin chucked, “Looks like we both need to practice being quieter. The event is a month away so we only have one month to practice getting this right. I feel another one, so stay there, let’s try again.”

He let out another fart. This one was silent, not too deadly. I snorted it up, trying as hard as I could not to moan out again. I couldn’t believe this was really happening! I was training to be my gassy best friend’s personal fart vacuum!!!

…

Over the next month, Kevin would come by a few times a week to hang out. Every time I got a text asking “Wanna practice tonight?” I’d reply “Yes” as fast as my fingers could type. And while he was over, every time he’d have to fart, he’d let me know it’s time to practice. I’d drop whatever I was doing, crawl behind him to his jeans or sweatpants clad ass, which he would stick out when bending over, and press my face into it. He’d leak out some rank ass fumes, each day he was getting better at letting them go silently, and I would lightly, but constantly, sniff them up. I’d stay there until all of the fart fragrance was gone. Even though they were pretty rough on the nose, I could feel my cock leak precum in my underwear. I was in heaven. I wanted to propose to him…if only he were gay.

A few weeks in, I started to feel bad because I realized that I was hanging out with him way more than I used to, only so I could suck up his farts. Even though it was his idea, and this was my way of helping him out, I couldn’t help but feel like I was using him. One night, after “suffering” through an unusually long stream of gas, I pulled away from his butt and asked him,

“Why are you doing this for me? Aren’t you grossed out?”

“Well, a little, I guess,” He admitted, “But I don’t mind farting on you if you like it this much. I mean, I think of it like this: if I were a girl, and was friends with a guy like me who also had a thing for feet, and we were really close, I’d let him play with my feet. Even if I’m not interested, and if we’re just friends, I wouldn’t be that weirded out by him because, well, foot play wouldn’t be that sexual for me. And as I am now, if I had a friend, a girl with really nice feet who wore cute socks, and she knew about my fetish but never let me come close, I would go crazy. So, farting on you just feels like I’m helping you out, the same way you’ll be helping me out by hiding all of my gas from the cute girls at the fair. That’s what friends are for, right? We got each other’s backs.”

That was the most unusual and convoluted reasoning I could have asked for, but I was getting facefuls of infinite farts, so why push my luck and complain.

He added, “Besides,” then he held the back of my head and roughly pushed his butt back into my face. It was so sudden, I couldn’t react until after he ripped a pretty loud beast on my nose,

PPRPRREPRPRERPERTI

I heard him laugh while I coughed and groaned, “This is hilarious to watch!”

“Fuck man,” I laughed into his cheeks, “That was nasty!”

“You’re welcome.” I looked up and saw he was looking behind at me and smiling, “Now enough goofing off; we only have a week to get this down right.”

…

The day of the fair, my face was flushed and I couldn’t focus during any of the lectures. It was a Friday, and I noticed a lot of the kids around me were also having a tough time paying attention to the professor. Sure, they were probably excited about all kinds of parties that would go down tonight, but I didn’t think any of them had something better than I did to look forward to.

The fair was going to last from 6 to 8pm, but like Kevin said, I would have to go earlier so I could sneak into his booth unnoticed. I had on my hoodie, a t-shirt, and sweatpants; If I were going to be sitting around for hours down there, I had to be comfy. My pockets were stuffed with old socks, that I would use to masturbate into. To be honest, this whole arrangement has been ruining my life. I say that jokingly. What I mean is, I’ve spent so much more time masturbating than I used to because Kevin’s farting ass against my face has been driving me up the wall. Every time I have to sniff one, my dick gets so hard expecting a release. I feel awkward touching myself around him, so I have to wait until after he leaves to go to town down there. I’ve been cumming three times a day on average to the memories of each fart of the day.

Even though I never brought up my boners, I’m sure he probably saw me sprout wood here and there, and so the day before the fair, he told me, “Hey Dill Pickle, I know this is kind of awkward, but if I were in your position, I’d probably lose my mind if I didn’t touch myself once. Like…nearly three or four hours of this without cumming? I couldn’t do it. So, I guess as long as you’re quiet and careful and don’t make a mess or something, and as long as I don’t see it, you can jerk off down there, if you want. Just don’t tell me if you’re going to, cuz that might weird me out.”

I nodded with a blank expression, but on the inside my heart was going wild, “Ok, Kevin.”

So, pockets full of jizz socks, I took a few breaths to calm down. Sure I was excited, but I was also terrified. If something went wrong and we were caught, I’d be the laughing stock of the school. Who knows how much trouble we’d get in for doing this weird sexual stuff in public? But I was so excited…I couldn’t wait to begin.

I headed to the gym at around 5:15, check in wasn’t going to start until 5:30, so hopefully no one would be there yet. I walked down the blank white hall and turned into the arena. As I thought, there were only a few people doing last minute set ups, but they were on the other end and faced away from me. Sneaking up to a clipboard, I looked for Kevin’s name and assigned booth. Each row was labeled A to G, with those two being on either end of the wall. Kevin was going to be at G7, which was on my end of the gym. Perfect. I tip toed behind the booths, behind the curtains that were set up to give the space a more “enclosed” feeling, found G7, and got onto my hands and knees to crawl in. The gym floor was dusty, but over all, not a big deal. I looked up and saw the ceiling but not much else. I knew that, as Kevin predicted, no one would be able to see me down here unless they were up in the rafters looking straight down. My dick was rising in anticipation.

I sat there, impatient, while the gym slowly started to fill with clamor of chatting voices. People were signing into their booths. Oh god, what if I was in the wrong booth? I’d just have to make up an excuse; “Sorry, I thought you were my friend, I was just gonna scare him.” I kept my fingers crossed.

The curtain rustled, and Kevin walked in. He was looking slick in all black: black shirt tucked into black pants with black shoes. He never dressed up, so I couldn’t help but smile. He even shaved his stubble and gelled his hair. He must really be trying to give off a good impression. I could even smell cologne from down here. As nice as it was, I much preferred the smell of colon.

“How do I look?” He muttered, then turned as if he were looking for someone. His butt looked so beefy from the tight pants and the tucked in shirt. Of course I had a hard on.

“Like Adonis.” I whispered back. He smirked.

I asked, “How are you feeling?”

He whispered, “Scared.”

“Dude,” I whispered, “You’ll be fine. You’re a cool guy, you have nothing to be scared about. You’re cool, you look cool, all of the girls are gonna line up to get your number.”

He smirked again, “You’re just saying that because you love my farty butthole.”

“That’s beside the point!” I tried not to laugh. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have a friend like him. He walked to the front of the booth, giving me enough room to crawl behind him. I stared at his ass, which was at the same level as my face. I had never been more aroused in my life.

Waiting for this night to begin was one of the longer half hours I had to go through. I just wanted to get my face into his butt already, but unless he had to fart, there was no reason to. Luckily, he seemed to be having some butterflies in his belly, because before the event started, he leaned forward. From the outside, it would look like he was just bored. On the inside, I nuzzled my face between his cheeks. Not a false alarm: I could smell faint eggs, and his butt grew warm against my skin. Definitely the first fart of the evening. I sniffed it up.

A man’s voice chimed from the PA system, “Good evening, ladies and gents. I hope all you singles out there are ready to mingle, because this year’s Speed Dating Fair has officially begun” There was a collective whoop from the crowd.

Once the fair began I was surprised just how much he farted. He really wasn’t kidding when he said that he gets gassy when nervous. Each girl would come up to the booth for five minute, and sure enough, for each one he would lean forward and stick his butt toward me. Of course I was being the best fart vacuum I could be, and even though my dick was rock hard, I didn’t’ dare touch myself yet. I only had so many socks to use, and I didn’t want to blow through all of them at the beginning.

When the five minutes were up, a little bell would play and single everyone to move over. I heard Kevin chatting, saying his goodbyes, laughing at jokes, making jokes, talk about his interests over and over. It was so routine, it sounded like he rehearsed what he was going to say. I didn’t realize just how scared Kevin was to put himself out there like this. I could feel him tremble every once and a while. I stroked the side of his thigh, hoping it would calm him down. But of course, my main focus was on his beautiful ass. After what felt like ages, my dick couldn’t take it anymore. If my cock were a dog, it would be yipping and whining like crazy for his treat. I pulled out one of the socks and put it on over my throbbing hot cock. I stroked myself as Kevin leaned in for what felt like the hundredth time.

Needless to say, I had shot my load before the bell rang. As the night went on, I knew Kevin finally starting to feel at ease. The conversations with each new girl was much less predictable, more fluid. Sadly, that meant the farts weren’t coming out like they had been; either his nerves subsided or he just finally ran out of gas. But to my surprise, he did a lot of leaning in anyway, and I’d press my face into his butt, expecting a fart that didn’t come. I guess he wanted me to enjoy myself, while I wasn’t “on duty”.

I went through another sock.

The farting started up again, each one smoother than the last. Thankfully the smell wasn’t too offensive; just a day old egg mixed with ass sweat, not too rough. It was musky enough that I had to put in a conscious effort not to moan out.

The radio was on, like he said it would, and beyond the meet and greets, I could hear the latest pop hits echoing in the gym. I probably wouldn’t be able to hear Ed Sheeran’s voice again without getting a boner. I think that’s called Pavlovian conditioning. In front of me, Kevin started swaying his hips to the beat of the pop song that was blasting above me, while my face was still up in his crack. My head was swaying with his ass. I felt like Cinderella dancing with the Prince at the ball. That thought made me smile and I had to hold back a serious case of giggles.

And another sock down. My dick was getting sore, but my face was burning with lust.

Maybe a little after half way through the night, Kevin left for a bathroom break. I stayed hiding in the corner, thinking of how bizarre a direction my life had gone. Just a month ago, I had felt embarrassed about my fetish, and kept everything about it a secret, including my sexuality. I wasn’t even comfortable being out about being gay, just because I was afraid that would somehow clue in on these dirty desires. Then, after just one conversation, I feel like I’m living though something that would only happen in some crazy fetish story, like the ones I read online. I was in a fairy tale. If only I were a girl, I would pay Kevin back by letting him lick my feet all night or whatever the fuck else he wanted to do.

After another hour, my dick was begging me to stop getting aroused. Sorry buddy, I know I’ve been beating you up a lot, but it’s worth it. A new girl steps up, Kevin leans in again, I stuff my face into his ass and inhale, repeat. I started to feel sad because I knew once this night was over I wouldn’t get to do something like this ever again. No point in feeling down; I’ve got a hot farting ass on my face, I should rejoice! Nearing the end of the night, I could tell that all of the previous farts were soaking up into the fabric of his pants. The seat of his pants began to smell worse and worse. I hoped the moisture from his farts mixed with my breath wasn’t going to stick too long. Then again, the only way someone would tell is if they pressed their face into his ass like I had been for the past two hours.

Finally, after another bell chime, I heard an announcer off the PA system, “Alright, ladies and gents, I hope you all had a fabulous evening and got to meet a lot of fun new people. Who knows, maybe tonight will be the start of something beautiful. And I think I can say the obvious: I’m sure one of you is getting lucky tonight” A collective laugh.

Way ahead of you, buddy.

…

Kevin and I walked back to my place afterward. We had to wait for enough people to leave where no one would notice I was in the booth with him. I felt pretty dirty because of all the used cum filled socks in my pockets, and my dick was aching like crazy, but I was shaking from it all. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked.

“…that was amazing, dude.”

He laughed, “You dirty fuck, you’re so disgusting. But you did a great job; I didn’t smell a thing.”

I smiled, “I know. Did you meet a lot of girls?”

“Oh yeah,” He smiled, “Tones. No surprise, a lot of them weren’t interested in me, and vice versa, but I met a few girls that I’m thinking of going on dates with in the next few weeks.”

“That’s great man.” I sighed

“Mind if I come over?” he asked, “I’ve got nothing else to do tonight but I’m too tired to go out.”

“Sure.”

…

We were sitting on the couch; he had rolled his sleeves up and was drinking the beer I gave him. I had my own beer in my hands. We were watching a really shitty horror film on Netflix. Instead of being scared, we spent the night making fun of the writing and the bad acting. “I’m gonna take a piss, don’t pause it.” He got up. I smiled, again, thinking of how lucky I was to have a friend like him. Any of the other guys I knew would probably cut me out of their lives if they found out I was such a fart pig. Again, I was wishing that one of the girls he met tonight would let him suck and nibble on her toes; he deserves it.

Walking back to his seat, he paused right next to me and said, “Fire in the hole!”

“What?” I turned and was face to face with his fancy-pants covered ass. He pulled my head in and let a monster rip on me.

“Dude!” I laughed, “What the literal fuck do you eat?!”

“Lots of cheese burgers.” He sat back down, smiling.

…

That night I didn’t masturbate because I was convinced my dick would fall off if I tried. I wasn’t surprised when I woke up the next morning because I dreamt he was holding me down and farting up my nose. I came in my underwear, in my sleep. My poor cock was exhausted. He’s infected my mind, but I don’t really care.

[7kbuttcheeks2]

Grizzly Bear

This was a really old story, one I thought I lost way back from the first tumblr purge. People have been asking for it lately and I found out I did have a copy;

...

Growing up as the youngest of five brothers meant my life was a living hell. My parents were always working, so that meant my oldest brother Jackson was in charge. Since I was the youngest, I was always the punching bag for their pranks.

Sometimes my brother Aiden would dump his dirty laundry over me. The worst was that he had taken one of his dirty socks, stuffed it into my mouth, and tied the other sock around my mouth so I couldn’t spit it out. He did this after handcuffing me to a chair with dad’s spare handcuffs [he was a cop] and then he’d drop a pair of dirty boxers over my face, making sure the part that was over his ass would line up with my nose, and leave me there for an hour.

Sometimes my brother Liam loved giving me wedgies. I’d be lying on my stomach on the carpet, watching cartoons, and suddenly I’d feel my underwear yank up, squeezing my crotch and burning my ass crack. I’d scream as my whole body was lifted off the ground by the back of my underwear, Ethan cackling over me like an evil god.

Oliver would love to hit me when I’d least expect it. Most often I’d walk out of the bathroom in the morning and his fist would swing out of nowhere to hit my arm or my gut. The gut was the worst, those would make me double over. Sometimes he’d swing around from behind a corner and let his hand at full force slap my butt. That always stung. 

But worst of all was Jackson, and the hierarchy of gas. The “hierarchy” was a term he made up. Basically, you were allowed to burp and fart on any brother younger than you. So he got to share his gas with all of us. In order of oldest to youngest, it was him, Aiden, Liam, Oliver, and then me. That meant that I was always going to be a target for a gassy mouth or butt, and I couldn’t burp or fart back at any of them. Oliver loves to tell me that he’s so glad I was born, because when he was the youngest, he would get the worst of Jackson’s ass blasts. 

It was normal for me to be woken up in bed with one of their butts pointed in my face. The second I’d realized what I was looking at, I’d hear the fart sputtering at me, and I would jump back, saying “ew” and moaning, trying to get away from the stink cloud that would hit me no matter what. It was normal for me to be laying on the ground watching TV and suddenly feel weight against the back of my head, and then hear and feel a fart vibrating into my hair. Aiden likes to call that “shampoot”.

Jackson was above all, the worst. He’s free to fart on whoever he wants, but most often he’ll only burp at the others. We’d be having lunch, he’d burp and blow it at one of their faces. We’d laugh, they’d groan in disgust. But he seemed to save nearly all of his gas for me personally.

Once, when I was really young, I was playing around on my bed. The bed frame had a crevice in the middle that was just big enough for me to squeeze through, and so I would pretend I was a criminal escaping prison. While I was playing, I’d twisted at an awkward angle and got my chest stuck in the frame. My head and upper half was laying on the bed, my arms and legs were sticking out from the end. I started freaking out, crying for help. Jackson rushed in, “What’s up little buddy? You ok?” All of my brothers had dark hair, but Jackson was the oldest and the hairiest. His chest, arms, and legs were coated in black hair.

“I’m stuck, help me out!”

I saw the evil grin cross his face, “Sure thing bro. Gimme a sec, I want to unwind.”

He didn’t pronounce it as “unwind,” but rather “un-wind”, like deflating. My eyes widened, I kept saying “NO, no no no no!!” But it was too late. He had picked up my blanket, dropped it over my head, and then looking up, I saw his lower half stick under the blanket, his shorts covered butt pointed at my face. 

PRPTRPTRPTP

He farted over and over. My arms and legs flailed from the end of the bed. I screamed, he laughed, he watched TV while I was stuck in the Dutch oven.

That’s the kind of brother Jackson was. He loved making me suffer through his farts.

The best/worst example of this was whenever we played Grizzly Bear. I remember the first time I played that game well.

“Hey Noah,” I was sitting on the couch when I heard Jackson say my name. I turned my head and saw him and the rest of my brothers standing over me, their arms folded. “We’re gonna play Grizzly Bear. And you’re it.”

Grizzly Bear was a game of his invention, that he started playing with Aiden when it was just the two of them. Then they both played against Liam. And then Oliver. And now they play it against me.

It was basically hide and seek. Jackson was the “grizzly bear”, and the youngest brother was always “it”. Whoever was “it” had to hide, and if he could stay hidden for ten minutes, he wins. If he’s found…

Well, the reason it’s called Grizzly Bear is because Jackson was the hairiest of us all. He’s always been hairy. And being the top tier farter in the hierarchy of gas, he loves to point out how hairy his ass is. 

“It’s almost 3. You have to hide for fifteen minutes.” He explained to me, my head tilted, like a curious dog, “and if we can’t find you by 3:15, then you win.”

Liam cut in, “But none of us have ever won this game. So don’t expect it.”

Jackson continued, “If we find you, then the Grizzly Bear gets to sit on you.”

And when I didn’t understand, he turned around and pulled his pants down. His ass was covered in a furry crop of black hair, “If we find you, your face becomes the Grizzly Bear’s seat.”

In a panic, I jumped up and ran off to hide. I heard my brothers laugh behind me while Jackson counted down from 100 out loud.

100 seconds to hide. I hated Jackson’s farts. They always smelled so bad. To think that he would hold me down and sit his bare butt on my face...no, I didn’t want that to happen. I needed to find the best hiding spot possible. 

The thing about this game was that, even though it technically only needs Jackson and the youngest brother, all of the brothers older than the youngest would help Jackson look. So when it was just Jackson, Aiden, and Liam, Aiden would help Jackson look. With each new brother, the former youngest would become a member of the Grizzly Bear search party. That meant that I had to hide from all four of my older brothers. I was playing the most difficult version of the game: a little kid trying to outsmart his four oldest brothers who would be looking all over the house for fifteen minutes. My heart was racing. There was no way I could stay hidden for fifteen minutes from all of them. But I needed to try: I didn’t want to become Jackson’s seat.

I remember hiding in my dad’s closet, behind his suit jackets. I thought it was the best place, since none of us were allowed in there. I couldn’t count how often Oliver called me a goodie two shoes. None of them would expect me to hide in the forbidden bedroom of our parents.

The minutes went by. I heard my brothers call my name, laugh, shuffle around the house, moving around furniture, opening doors, footsteps everywhere. My heart was pounding and my ears were burning red. I had no idea how to check how long I’d been hiding, and how many more minutes I had. I was afraid that if they didn’t find me, they’d play a new round anyway. I gasped when the thought came; the thought that no matter what, sooner or later, Jackson WOULD sit on my face with his naked butt. Only a matter of time. I started to cry out of anxiety.

I sat in the darkness of my dad’s closet, hugging my knees, waiting for the inevitable. Minutes passed, I kept hearing my brothers searching around the house. The’d cleared through the ground floor, and I heard two of them walking around the upstairs floor. They’re probably going through all the rooms. They were going to find me eventually.

Dread was hanging in my stomach. Dreading the stink. How gross would it feel? I’d never felt Jackson’s naked butt against me...what would a naked fart against my face feel like? How bad would the smell be? I was trembling. 

I jumped when the door to my parents room opened. I heard Aiden, “Oh Noah...the Grizzly is getting tired and wants to pop a squat.” I held my breath. I could barely see Aiden’s shadow pass the closet door. I think he fell to his knees and was looking under the bed, “And he tells me he had a lot of nachos this afternoon, and he’s got a literal buttload of nacho farts to feed you.”

The thought made me want to puke.

His shadow covered the crack in the door. I kept my hand over my mouth and nose. My heart was skipping beats.

“Noah, are you in there?” He laughed. I didn’t move. “It’s only been ten minutes. If you’re in here that means you’re about to get one hell of a stink face.”

I clenched my eyes shut. I couldn’t avoid it anymore. The closet door swung open. In a last minute panic, I jumped to my feet to sprint past him. I don’t know what my plan was, maybe I thought I could run to my bedroom and lock the door. But he was too fast. He grabbed my arm. I started screaming, trying to fight him off, but he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up.

“FOUND HIM!!!” He shouted, carrying me out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

“NO, PLEASE DON’T,” I couldn’t help but cry.

“We’ve all had to suffer through this, Noah,” Aiden laughed, “Quit being a baby and take your punishment like a man.”

I gulped. Jackson came up the stairs from the basement, an evil grin on his face. He let out a little roar, “The Grizzly wins again!”

We were all back in the living room. Aiden, Liam, and Oliver had brought me to the ground, lying on my back, my head resting on a pillow. Liam and Oliver held my limbs down, so even if I tried to wrestle away, I knew I would be able to get up. Aiden had his hands on either side of my head, so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. I had no choice but to watch as Jackson stepped his feet on either side of my head. He was patting his stomach, “Oh, Noah, I think I picked the worst time to have you play this game. You have no idea how badly my guts have been grumbling this afternoon.”

I whimpered. He took a deep breath, a satisfied sigh, and then pulled his shorts down. Above me, his giant butt cheeks, covered in black hair, slowly lowered to my face. I scrunched up, cringing, watching his cheeks naturally separate and I got a glimpse of his butt hole through the thick hair in his crack. Then, his hands came to each cheek and spread them wider. Now, I was staring directly at his gaping butthole. The smell was foul, as bad as butt sweat always is. He hovered a few inches over my face. I held my breath, my cheeks puffed up, spitting out, shaking. My brothers were all laughing around me.

“Any last words?” He asked, looking down at me between his legs.

“...how long?” Was all I could get out. My voice cracked.

“That’s the best part: until you DIE”

He sat full weight onto my face before I could react. Immediately I started shaking around, trying to get my arms and legs free of my brother’s grasps. But there was no way to escape. I still held my breath, but Jackson squirmed a bit and grinded his hairy butt into my face, his hairs were tickling the inside of my nose and without sniffing I could still smell his butt funk. I tried twisting my neck to free my face from stink hell, but Aiden was holding on tight. I felt his hole pucker up against my nose,

PRTPRTPRPTRPTRPTPPPPP

My brothers cheered, probably thinking of all the times they had to live through what I was experiencing, glad that they would never have Jackson fart directly up their noses ever again. And yes, even though I didn’t sniff, he had farted into my nostrils and that had forced the stink into my lungs. I coughed and gagged, gasping for air but the only air I could get was coming from his butt. 

PRTPRTPRPPPP

I was getting dizzy. The stink was so bad sure, but I kept gasping and sucking in his farts. I needed air, I was literally choking to death on his farts. I could hear them all laughing, I felt Jackson shake and scrub his ass into my face. It was like the worst face massage anyone could ask for. He shifted and I felt his hole press against my lips. I didn’t realize that was where my lips were until I felt him push again,

PRTPRTPRPTRPTRPTRPTR

The fart had broke my lips open and shot down over my tongue and into my throat. I gagged violently, accidentally swallowing his fart. I was so dizzy, so sick to my stomach, so humiliated listening to my brothers laugh like hyenas. 

“I think he’s fading away,” I heard Oliver say. And he was right. I was starting to see stars. The hands that held me down moved off of me, but even though they were free, I could barely move them. I tried to bring my arms up to push him off, but I was so dizzy from the farts that my hands only weakly grabbed onto his thighs.

“Aw, I think he’s falling asleep,” Jackson shifted once more and his hole had closed around the tip of my nose. The smell was unbareable.

“Nighty night, fart face.”

RPTRPTRPTRPTRPTRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPP

Sucking in his fart as a last attempt to breathe, I’d passed out. Everything went black.

…

Jackson said that the first time he’d ever played Grizzly Bear, when he stink-faced Aiden into unconsciousness, he actually freaked out and thought he’d killed him. When he realized that he had the power to knock kids out with just his ass fumes, he became an evil monster.

And so my childhood, up through my teen years, were full of this game. College aged Jackson had no problem saying “Who’s up for a game of Grizzly Bear?” He was on the school’s wrestling team, so even if I said no, he would fight me down and straddle my face anyway. I had to try hiding at least. 

But that’s where something major happened.

First, I realized I was gay. But second...I realized that I actually enjoyed being the victim of the Grizzly Bear game.

The first dozen times I would tremble in fear, dread being knocked out by Jackson’s farts. But the more often we played, the more I accepted my fate as the eternal fart sniffer, and the more that I was actually welcoming it. I’d gotten used to how his butt smelled. I’d become almost like a connoisseur of my older brother’s farts, like fine wine, I would sniff them and see how different foods had effected his gastronomical tract.

I had fallen in love with his asshole.

That’s why, even in high school, I would hide in a basic hiding spot; under a bed, in a closet, behind a couch, and when I was found, I would fight back and scream, but that was all for show. I’d giggle and moan in disgust, mock fear, but it was actually in excitement. My brothers would hold me down. I’d shift to hide my boner as best as I possibly could. Did any of them notice my hard ons? They had to have noticed. They all must have known that somehow, I’d turned into a fart sniffing faggot, and they probably thought they were doing me a favor by forcing me to play this childhood game.

I’d stare up in anticipation as my oldest brother’s beefy, hairy wrestler ass came over me, spread open, and rested over my face. I loved his stink. I loved his ass hair. I loved his ass hole. I loved snorting up his farts, until I was put to sleep.

To this day I jerk off to the memories of Jackson farting up my nose. He’s too old for that stuff now, even though we laugh about it. I’m able to recreate the rush by meeting up with other men on fart-fetish forums, telling them my stories, and telling them I’d love to play Grizzly Bear with them some time. I’d even driven across state lines so I could play Grizzly Bear with my online friends. We’d make sure to play two rounds, so each of us could be the Bear, and the sniffer.

My brother had turned me into a fart sniffing faggot. I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to thank him. 

[7kbuttcheeks2]

My Secret OnlyFans: FartKing123

A guy who feels like he's cursed with bad gas eventually learns there are a ton of guys who would do anything for him. And some are closer than he realized.

...

For most of my life my most embarrassing confession is that I have terrible gas. Yeah I know everyone’s farts reek but I mean, mine are really really bad. Even small or short ones are rancid. Growing up I realized I wasn’t like other boys since I was always being picked on for smelling bad, or for being gassy all the time. No one could fart as often as me, and mine cleared rooms more than anyone else. As a kid I thought it was funny, but I was getting teased for it more often and it hurt my self esteem.

The doctors always said that I seemed healthy and this might mean I need to change my diet. But when that didn’t help, they shrugged and thought it must be in my genes and they really didn’t have anything to help me. They prescribed pills that made my gas slightly less frequent and slightly less repulsive, but it was like throwing a cup of water onto a burning house and saying “job well done”.

High school was a nightmare for being bullied and having very few friends. I had one close friend Caleb who said he didn’t mind the gas and would laugh along, that made me feel better at least. He encouraged me to “show off” which always made him laugh. I was glad to have a friend like him, especially since I didn’t feel as embarrassed about my gas. But otherwise people avoided me.

My room always stank, I had to keep windows open and light candles and use air fresheners. Every morning I’d wake up and smell what my ass had caused while I slept. I thought I’d never get a girlfriend who would want to be near me for a long period of time.

I was always cramping having to hold them all in. And because I kept holding them in, they would build up so much that when I finally was free to let them out, they would be non stop and huge. I’d drive home hotboxing in my own farts. Again, Caleb said he didn’t mind and could take it, even though he always laughed and held his nose. But I couldn’t let them all out in front of him, he only knew like, half the power my ass contained.

But Caleb never left my side. He’d make jokes but never really complained about gas and he even said I could let them out around him if I needed. Still I didn’t want to do that to him. I was surprised that he wanted to be my roommate when we went to college together. I warned him that he doesn’t know what it’s going to be like living with me, but he brushed it off saying he could handle it and he was used to my stink.

I wrote about my struggles online, looking for forums of other guys who could relate. While I got some sympathy messages from guys who claimed their gas was also brutal, none of them seemed to be at my level.

One night I saw a message in my inbox. It read; “Hey, I’ve been following your posts for a while now. I know that you hate your farts, but I love reading about them. I have a fart fetish and all your posts make me want to hear your farts. Can you record them and send them to me? You can take a vid of your ass and block your face. Please I know this sounds weird but I can pay you if you want.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I ignored it. Yeah, gross perverts on the internet, what else is new. But the next day I couldn’t stop thinking about his offer. Pay me for fart videos? He’d actually spend money on that? I felt weird about the idea of selling a fart vid to an online pervert…

I messaged him back: “I won’t take less than $20, I’ve never done this stuff before and it sounds weird.”

He replied: “I’ll give you $30”

I couldn’t believe it. He was going to pay extra for this.

“Send me money first then maybe I’ll send it. Maybe.” and I gave him my venmo.

Even without committing, without even promising he’ll actually get a video, I received a notification of the $30 transaction. I couldn’t believe it. There were people who were that desperate…

It came with a message: “I know you said maybe, I get if you don’t want to, but I’m serious I would love to see your ass in action”

So I messaged back: “When I have a good one I’ll send it to you. Later tonight.”

I don’t know why my heart was racing. It was really gross and embarrassing enough that I would never admit it to anyone. But at the time I think it was me starting to get a weird sense of pride that someone wanted me to be my dirty self. That someone was actually turned on by this.

It didn’t take long to feel another monster brewing in me (It never took long). Awkwardly I went into the bathroom and pulled my shorts down. I filmed my naked ass in the mirror. I didn’t think it was special, but I did work out a bit so my cheeks were more defined than other guys I’ve seen. I never shave down there, but my cheeks are pretty smooth. My crack had dark brown hair which I thought was gross, but I couldn’t imagine the pervert wouldn’t be happy with it. I pressed record and let it out;

PPPPPTRPTRPTRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

It was a loud echo in the bathroom, and it was a few seconds long. Impressive for others but it was pretty typical for me. And as always it flooded the air with a rotten stink. I watched the video and saw the subtle push of my ass crack before letting it out. Did I really want some guy jerking off to this?

I’m embarrassed to say, yes. I wanted to see him write that he loved it.

I uploaded it to the site and sent it to the guy. A few minutes later,

“Holy fuck you weren’t kidding. You’re so fucking hot. That was nasty, did it smell nasty?”

I still couldn’t wrap my head around the image of a guy jerking off to my farting video. He begged me to send more and offered more money. I said I’ll let him know.

Well not a week later did I start getting more messages. Apparently the perv was sharing my video with other fetishists and they all were offering money for new vids. At first I was annoyed about this and ignored them. But the messages kept coming and more than one suggested I should start an OnlyFans and they would be generous customers. I really didn’t like the idea of being a camboy for farting. Farting for perverted gay men for money, hell no.

Or, at least, until I noticed how difficult it was becoming to support myself through school. I had a part time job in retail but my expenses were eating up my paychecks. And I couldn’t do it full time while also being a student. What’s a few extra bucks here and there? Especially to do something that was so easy and natural for me?

Yes I caved and made an account. FartKing123. No, I am not creative. But I sent the link to the forum users and even made accounts to post on specific fetish forums I hadn’t seen before. And I made daily uploads; just one fart a day.

The first week I got a dozen subscribers. Then two. Then three. I just stared at my laptop screen, laughing at how absurd it all felt. It was looking like I’d be raking in a couple hundred bucks a month for this. I started recording my gas more often and would make compilation vids “Best Rips of the Week”. That series was turning into a hit. I mixed in nude farts, underwear farts, jeans farts, basketball short farts…I was having fun with different angles of my ass, and the more often I posted, the more comfortable I was at even spreading my cheeks. Videos of my spread asshole got a lot of likes. I didn’t think of myself as gay before but I was getting hard reading the comments from guys saying they wanted to lick my asshole.

And the fan mail, good lord…I was getting the nastiest messages. Usual “I love your ass” comments, but also really fucking gross things like “I want to be tied up behind you with my nose glued to your asshole all day sir” or “I dream of you farting in my mouth”. Yeah I know I’m sorry, too graphic. I was laughing though. For most of my life I hated my disgusting ass, and now it had its own growing fanbase. And I admit I was getting turned on at the idea of having other guys debase themselves for me. I started masturbating to fantasies of one of my fans licking my ass and gagging as I farted into his mouth. Really disgusting, but, I don’t know. Some suppressed enjoyment was coming back to me, back when I loved farting…

Now at some point I must have mentioned I had a roommate (I can’t remember where, probably on one of the old forum posts?) because one user “Fartlover94” was asking if I could make videos farting on his face. A lot of them wanted me to fart on somebody, and a few even volunteered to be in videos with me. Of course I declined them all, and I told that one user that my roommate had no idea about any of this and I would never admit my secret life to him or even suggest he be involved. I know Caleb never complained about my gas, but that was a whole different thing from letting me fart directly in his face.

The user said that I should try asking and that my roommate seemed open minded enough. Now how the hell would he know what Caleb was like? I laughed at the desperation, sending a firm “No”, I'm not ruining one of the few great friendships I have over this.

Of course I hid all this from Caleb. Pretended the ring lights were for class projects. And I never ever filmed myself while he was home. Never edited my comps unless he was out. I would have been mortified if he found out. If anyone found out my secret online persona.

…

After a few months of a successful OnlyFans business, I was let off work early one afternoon so I picked up groceries and came back to the apartment. I opened the door but Caleb wasn’t in the living room. I heard noises from his bedroom. The sounds of farting. My farts, I could tell. My blood ran cold and my stomach filled with dread. How did he find out?

Trembling, I crept toward his door, thinking he was watching this and laughing. Did I leave my laptop open? Did someone recognize me and send him my page? I didn’t say anything but I looked through the door and was shocked at what was really happening.

His back was to me, sitting at his desk with his laptop. One of my “full day of farts” compilation videos was playing, and his arm was jerking up and down. All at once the pieces fell together. The fact that Caleb always encouraged me to fart around him, that he wanted to live with me knowing about my gas problems, the "anonymous user” insisting I should ask to fart on him…

I crept back to the front door, then opened and shut it loudly. The farting sounds stopped. I carried the bags to the kitchen pretending that I didn’t know he was home and put the food away. My heart was pounding as I ruffled through the bags. All this time, Caleb was one of the fart fetish perverts. He was even paying to secretly enjoy my posts. I couldn’t imagine the torment it must be for him living next to a goldmine of farts but never getting to experience them.

Later that evening I looked at his profile, and searching for the username brought me to other fetish sites he had accounts with. I read his old posts about how much he loves men farting, and then saw where he was talking about me;

re:Fart Fetish: My best friend from high school has the worst farts I’ve ever smelled. He farts all the time and they’re always really big. I laugh along but I’ve always wanted him to fart on my face. I stared at his cute ass in his jeans and daydreamed about burying my nose into it re:Weirdest Fantasies: I’ve always wanted him to make a bet with me where the loser would have to eat the winner’s farts. I imagined myself losing a game and watching his ass fall down onto my face telling me to open wide. re:Dirty Confessions; Whenever I stayed over at my friend’s house, I’d wait for him to fall asleep and then I’d dig out dirty boxers from the bottom of his hamper. The back of his boxers stunk of his ass and farts and I would wear them over my head while jerking off. I always made sure to get my nose against the fabric where his asshole would be re:Fart Fetish; update, we are going to the same college and are going to be roommates. He keeps saying he’ll hold his gas in for me but I tell him not to worry. He has no idea how badly I want to be his fart slave. I fantasize that he’ll wake me up one morning by sitting on my face and telling me I’m going to be his fart sniffing slave from now on. re:Fart Fetish: so many comments, no I don’t have that many updates except he does fart around me every now and then. I always laugh and try to get him more comfortable, I don’t want him to feel embarrassed but also I really want him to fart around me all the time. It’s killing me inside how often I hide my boners around him.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. All this time…and the more I read the more disgustings his confessions got. Details of his disgusting fantasies of how he wanted to be degraded in general, but especially his secret desires for me to be the one doing them. Caleb really did a good job hiding this from me, never did I suspect he had any interest in me or was into my farts in a sexual way, I thought he was just another immature guy.

No, I didn't want to ruin the friendship. But I have so many fans who are hoping for a face farting video some day…

…

The rest of the week I pretended nothing was different, and he seemed none the wiser that I knew his secret and he knew mine. A wicked thought was growing in me. Before, I didn’t really think of myself as anything but straight. Yet since starting my account I have to admit I was getting turned on by the guys who were turned on by my most disgusting trait, and I was more bisexual in that I wanted to do things to other guys that I’d never dream of doing to a girl. The idea that I could have so much power over another man was stirring something in me that I didn’t realize before…and I was living with the perfect victim…

I thought of how I wanted to do it. Did I want to be subtle? Did I want to be rough? What would I say?

The morning I decided was one where I woke up before him. I saw through the crack of the bedroom door that Caleb was still asleep, laying on his back with his face exposed. My heart started thumping and I knew this was the perfect time, as I could feel more of my morning brew starting to gurgle and I thought of his forum posts. Don’t waste time with an awkward conversation, his face is just laying there waiting for my ass to smother it, years of waiting…

I dropped my basketball shorts. I snuck into the room wearing only my blue plaid boxers and slowly made my way toward the bed. He didn’t stir as I stepped onto the mattress and got my feet on either side of his head. I crouched down to my knees which were pressing on either side of his torso. I slowly brought my hands over his wrists ready to hold them down. I looked over my shoulder at his delicate sleeping face just under my ass. There was no turning back now.

“Wake up Fartlover94” I felt an evil smile grow on my face. I was already hard.

Caleb muttered something and started squinting his eyes. When he realized my big boxer clad ass was in his face, they shot open. Without giving him a chance to react, I sat back onto his face, feeling it wedge into my ass crack. My hands kept his wrists down so none of this thrashing could pull me off. He was kicking and I felt muffled screams up my ass, along with the heat of his breath in my boxers, and the feeling of his nose poking against my asshole which felt better than I thought it would. He’d kicked the blankets off and I saw that he was hard in his own underwear. Sure it was usual morning wood but I knew it wasn’t going to go down any time soon. I was hard in my boxers too, very hard.

“You’ve been wanting this since high school haven’t you?” I spat. He was probably trying to say “sorry” but my cheeks were muffling his voice. “Well congrats friend it’s your lucky day.”

I let out a beast of a fart. The vibrations of my asshole violently spat against his nose and he started screaming. The stench had to be awful. It was awful after it dispersed across the room, so how much worse must it be to take it all in its concentrated form? Even though he was crying into my ass, his boner was not going down. I noticed a patch of precum forming.

“It’s rotten huh?” I laughed at him, “How often did you jerk off to my farts? Every day? Have you been dreaming of my farts every day fucking sicko? You want to drown in them?”

My dick was throbbing too. I loved not giving him a chance to defend himself. I said “I’m going to let go of your wrists and you’re going to play with your dick. I want to watch you jerk off to my farts.”

I let go and as I thought, he didn’t try to push me off. His hands went down to his crotch and he stroked himself through his boxers.

“This is just day one,” my mouth was dry, “ When I’m not making a video, your face is my new farting spot. You’re gonna be the air filter keeping the apartment fresh, haha,” I let a fart seep out silently on his nose. He gagged into my ass, and I saw more precum dampen his boxers.

“When I command you, you’re gonna get on your knees and offer your face to me. You know how often I fart, well I’ve been holding back for your sake. Now I know better; I’m letting them out all the time. You’ll learn how bad it really gets. You’re taking all of them up your nose. 24/7, your face belongs to my ass now. You are now my fart sniffing slave”

He couldn’t take it anymore. I watched as he shot cum through his boxers. It was so intense, it didn’t even soak in, his milky cum shot through the fabric. I kept laughing watching him blast rope after rope, his body seizing up and feeling his moans in my ass crack.

I was also impatient to cum. I got up and immediately was hit by the stench of my gas. I turned around and saw he was looking like he was on the verge of passing out. I didn’t care. Without asking I took my cock out of my boxers and pushed it into his mouth. He gagged on it a few times and that helped me shoot my load. I gasped leaning my forehead against the wall emptying my cum into his throat, twitching with each fatigued gulp.

I told him “I got a ski mask the other day. You’re going to wear it for my face farting videos. I’m going to record the first one this afternoon, and I’m going to bind your wrists and ankles and I’m going to gag your mouth. It’ll be fucking heaven for a pervert like you.”

I got off him, still laughing and my heart racing. I couldn’t believe I’d done that to him. And how good it felt to dominate another man like this. To make Caleb my bitch. He didn’t speak or move, he laid there in his soiled boxers gasping and shivering, too embarrassed and overwhelmed to look at me. I left the bedroom to get ready for the grocery store as I needed to stock up on fuel for our first video that afternoon.

…

Since then, life’s been pretty good. He finally got the nerves to apologize and confess that he has secretly fantasized about my farts for years. He admitted that he’s wanted me to fart on his face since high school and never thought it would happen. He tried to put these feelings away but then he found my vids through whatever gay fart fetish network he was a part of and it brought back his obsession. He said he was hoping to convince me to start “Pranking” him, or even get him to go along with the OnlyFans account. I accepted his apology since I no longer had to feel embarrassed about my gas around him.

And as promised, his face became my new farting spot. He admitted that he thought I was exaggerating when I warned him I’d been holding back most of the time, and that I fart so often and they are so rancid that he was getting overwhelmed having to sniff them all the time. I told him he should have been careful what he wished for because my ass never takes breaks. It was funny to see his worried expression even though he was pitching a tent.

Most mornings while I brushed my teeth in my boxers I’d feel another one brewing and I”d call “Nose in my ass, right now.” He’d drop what he was doing and come to the bathroom, getting on his knees behind me, and pressing his face into my ass. I loved clawing his hair and pushing back into his face, tearing an absolute beauty on his nose. He always gagged and tried to pull away but I kept yanking his hair to keep his nose in my asshole for at least a minute. I reminded him that this was what he always wanted.

Another favorite move of mine would be to sneak up to him as he played video games. I’d grab his ankles and pull his legs to bring his head down to the cushion. Before he could react (or, intentionally not getting out of the way) I’d spin around and sit right on his face. I’d relax while letting out my gas for a few minutes, each rip making him cry out in disgust and he’d thrash his limbs about. Not even for exaggeration; he would try to push me off sometimes but I was stronger than him and I’d grind my ass against his face and remind him he’s my fart sniffer from now on, no matter what. It was funny to see him realize he’d signed up for way way more than he’d bargain for, and that he had no choice but to take farts up his nose every hour of every day. It was especially funny knowing that, no matter how awful the stink was for him, his dick would always get hard. Like his mind and natural reflexes wanted to pull away from my putrid asshole, but his dick kept him coming back for more. So I never felt bad about torturing him like this, because I knew his dick and I were on the same side.

Even when I was in the shower, I didn’t let him have a break. Washing my hair I’d call out “Nose, now!” and when he came into the bathroom I’d stick my ass out of the curtain and wait to feel his nose against my wet asshole. Smiling, I’d grab onto his head as always to keep him in place before ripping another beast on his nose. I’d giggle to myself like an evil boy feeling him gag and try to pull away. I loved rubbing my asshole on his nose when he tried to pull away.

If I could feel my next blast was going to be especially awful, and I was feeling evil enough, I’d say “Mouth” instead. The color would leave his face, but as always his dick would betray him and make him degrade himself. He’d crawl to me and I’d turn around pulling my boxers down too and spreading my ass cheeks. When I felt his face press into my crack, his lips closing over my hole, I’d let out the first fart. As always his instinct was to pull away and gag, but I always kept his head still with my hands as I flooded his mouth with my farts. These got the most violent gags out of him

I charge extra for face fart videos on my profile. I liked to bind Caleb’s wrists and ankles and have him lay on his back. I’d gag and tie his mouth shut and put a modified portable toilet seat over his face. The modifications were two wood poles stretching from the bottom of the seat to the floor. I positioned the poles on either side of his head, keeping his head locked and place and his face looking upward, unable to turn away. I’d turn on the mini camera that was pointed up at the seat. Then I’d take my boxers down and slowly sit over Caleb’s face, the camera giving a good view of my spreading cheeks and fuzzy asshole. I’d start farting and would laugh every time Caleb gagged or coughed. On the screen I watched my asshole push out each fart into Caleb’s face and was getting hard knowing the guys who will pay to watch this next clip will want to worship my asshole.

And every day I’d wake him up by sitting my naked ass on his face. He rarely wakes up before me. Just like the first time, I would hold him down and smother him in my ass while I relaxed and let all my morning farts shoot up his nose. It was always a rude awakening and I’d stay seated for a few extra minutes just to make sure his face was marinated in my gas.

“This afternoon I want to film you giving me a long rimjob. I’ll tell you when to pause so I can fart on your tongue and into your mouth. Make sure to drool a lot, it looks good on camera and the subscribers love seeing it. Easy enough for a fart sucking whore like you yeah?”

I felt Caleb mutter “yes sir” into my ass.

“Aren’t you glad we’re friends?”

Another muffled “yes sir”

“Good. Get your tongue out,” I sat up to spread my ass cheeks. I looked down over my shoulder and saw his beet red face, out of breath and sticking his tongue straight up. I couldn’t stop grinning as I sat back down feeling his tongue slither up my asshole. I gyrated my hips to smear my ass cheeks all over his face and ride against his tongue and leaned forward to grab and stroke his dick.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRR

He kept gagging violently and I laughed over him. It didn’t take long to feel his dick start to throb and shoot all over his stomach and dribble all over my hand.

“Ugh,” I got up off of him. He gasped for air, always dizzy from the fart smothering and orgasm. I pressed my cum coated hand against his face. “Lick your mess up.”

He did. I loved watching him obey me like this.

“What do you say?”

He gulped, “t-thank you master,”

I was just glad that I could make my best friend’s dreams come true. “Oh and don’t forget it’s your turn to clean the apartment. The living room needs to be spotless before our next video.”

And I left his room, thinking about what I should get for lunch to make sure the next post was a success.

[ghostiesfyou]

diablo stinkface

[crazyapprehension]

Vertex Wrestler JerBear gives BearTamer a stinkface

Found on BearTamers watchfighters

[masterchief26]

Tied up sock worship

[masterchief26]

Tied up sock worship

[buttsmasher]

The Time Vinny came to the Pharmacy

Tags/Warnings: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Willing Victim, Underwear Farting, Semi-Public

You lay across the counter, another boring day at the pharmacy. You’re scrolling through Instagram when you have to stop and stare at a picture your high school crush, Vinnie, posted. It’s a side view of him lifting a barbell and it highlights his arms, and that ass that you always wanted to be near in high school. The caption read, “It looks like leg day has been really paying off.” You, of course, double tap the photo.

“Yeah, that was a pretty good photo.” You look up to see Vinnie standing in front of you giving you his signature smile. All of your high school memories come rushing back and you quickly remember why he was your crush. 6’3”, charming smile, hot body, and he was honestly one of the nicest guys in town. “Not to brag or anything.” His smile disarms any awkwardness you might have felt. 

“What brings you in?” You ask putting your phone away, giving him your full attention.

“I’m here for a prescription.” 

“Gotcha.” You go ahead and enter his name into the system and quickly grab his prescription. “So how’s life going?” You make small talk as you scan the barcode of the prescription bag.

“Oh you know, just trying to survive the end of the world.” You both chuckle. “But my girlfriend broke up with me so... trying to get over that.” 

“Sorry to hear it man. It’s $15.12.”

“Yeah, she said I was going to the gym too much. And she said I was too gassy for her.” He pulls out a credit card and hands it to you. 

“Gassy?” You raise your eyebrow as you take his card.

“Yeah. It’s probably the protein shakes because they go right through me. But imagine being broken up with because you’re too gassy.” You shake your head, not able to imagine it. 

“Sounds like to me you need someone who’d appreciate your gassiness.” You give him a wink as you hand him his card back and prescription. You then go back to leaning onto the counter, elbows on the counter with your head being cradled by your heads.

“Is that so?” He looks you up and down briefly before leaning onto the counter himself.  “Do you know anyone, within a, oh I don’t know, one minute radius because I got some big ones brewing.” 

“Hmm,” You pretend to think about it. “Carla I’m going on break!” You yell to the pharmacist on duty. You walk out from the employee section and gesture towards Vinnie to follow you into the exam room. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, he follows and you close the door and lock it. Before he even says anything you are on your knees pulling at his gym shorts. His boxer briefs are a bit sweaty, most likely he came straight from the gym.It doesn’t stop you from smashing your nose into his musky crack and taking a deep whiff. It’s intoxicating, and you let out this small moan that just makes Vinnie laugh. 

“I haven’t even farted yet.” He jokes as he lets you inhale his scent. 

“Sorry, sorry, you just smell…”

PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

He lets a harsh fart that interrupts your sentence. You don’t even try to finish the sentence, instead you just focus your energy on inhaling the toxic air. It’s bad, and you kind of understand why his girlfriend broke up with him.The smell reminds you of a skunk and it’s just pure rotten ass fumes. You can’t help the fact that you’re so painfully erect.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Vinnie chuckles. “I just couldn’t hol’ it in anymore.”

“It’s good.” Your voice is strained but you give him a thumbs up. 

“Man, you must of inhaled all of it, because I didn’t get a whiff of it up here.” He wiggles his body a little bit bouncing you in between his butt cheeks. “Shit I just may need to keep you around as my fart vacuum.” 

“No complaints here.” You pull your nose out his ass and begin to stand up causing him to push you back down.

“I didn’t say I was finished.” He wraps his hand in your hair before pulling you back against his sweaty undies. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

This one was even worse than the previous. It was horrid and you honestly kind of wanted to pull your face away. But before you even get a chance to appreciate that last bomb, he’s hitting you with more gas.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFTTTT PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTT

He wasn’t joking when his girlfriend said he was gassy. You did your best to keep up with his butt bombs, but you feel yourself starting to get dizzy from only being able to breathe in his rotten egg smelling farts. You forcibly pull away from his ass and take a deep breath in before you push your nose back in against his clothed hole.

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFTT

He lifts his leg as two squeakers expel from his nasty ass. “Fuck.” You groan as you keep taking loud huffs. “Jesus christ, how do you have so much gas?” You pant as you pull away from his ass again.

“I’m telling ya, it’s gotta be the protein shakes.” You try to catch your breath.

“Fuck man.” You wipe your forehead where there’s sweat beading on your face. 

“You want more?” He’s biting his lip like he’s holding a big one in.

“Hell yeah!” You don’t waste any time getting back into position.

“It’s a big one, do you think you can take it?” He warns.

“Take your best shot, big guy.” You give a playful smack against his ass.

“Your funeral.” He starts grunting, and for a moment you’re honestly worried that he’s about to shit himself.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

He lets out the loudest and nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. And the smell is god awful. Somehow mixing all sorts of horrid scents that you didn’t think were possible. At first you smelled rotten eggs, but then somewhere around the 5 second mark it went to old garbage, and then another few seconds and it was sewage. There wasn’t any way you couldn’t pull away from that.

You are hacking up a lung as Vinnie laughs at you. “I warned you man.”

“Fuck. I didn’t know you were that brutal.” You gag, somehow getting a taste of his nasty brew. “I-I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“That’s fine.” He reaches down and pulls his shorts up. “It’s not every day I get to bomb someone.”

“Well if you were dating me, that wouldn’t be a problem.” You try to turn the situation in your favor, but you’re still trying to catch your breath.

“Hm, how bout we get coffee first.” 

“Deal.” You say as he helps you get back on your feet. 

“You think you can go back to work?” You give a thumbs up as he helps walk back to the employee area.

“What did you do to him?” Clara takes you from Vinnie and then scrunches her face. “God you stink.” She moves her face as far away as she can. “God, that’s awful, you need to go home.” She kind of pushes you away and Vinnie catches you again. You both kind of laugh before Vinnie helps you out to your car.

“You free tomorrow?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah, meet me at the Piñata Cafe at 10:00.” 

“Cool.” You give him a small wave. 

When your door is closed and his back is to you, you start dancing. You’ve got a date with Vinnie, your high school dream almost fulfilled.

[bodmodbear]

[rectoplasm-deactivated20250728]

those bastards. it was their idea of a prank. id been shoved into a locker, an old sock stuffed in my mouth and the door locked behind me. all i could see was the empty changing room infront of me through the slats in the door.

my phone had died, so i didnt even know what time it was, but i knew id been in there for hours, and that (although it was a 24hr gym) it must be getting pretty late since i hadnt seen anyone in ages and the distant hustle and bustle had long since died down.

it actually made me jump when the door to the lockerroom suddenly swung open and an enormous fat sweaty man sidled inside. finally! ‘oh, hey! um, long story but would you mind getting one of the staff from the front desk for me? ive been locked in here almost all day’ he made no acknowledgement of my presence. peeking through the slats, much to my dismay, i noticed he had a pair of airpods in, and couldnt hear me at all. oh yeah, i forgot to mention. as if this couldnt get more awkward, the man was fucking butt-ass naked. he must have come in from the showers or the sauna or something.

he waddled over to his locker (above mine) and retrieved his towel. i was face to face his his cock and balls, and was shocked at the sheer size of his package. his cock looked quite small, actually, atleast in comparison to the rest of him. looked sorta like an acorn, but his BALLS. holy fuck! they were literally the size of grapefruits. like two big goose eggs nestled in a forest of bushy pubes. they were, like, directly infront of my face, man. literally. i was trying not to look. i saw him reach up and take out his towel out of his locker and begin drying himself. he bent over to dry his crack and stuck his disgusting fat hairy ass right at me, eugh, i could almost smell it.

nope. nope. not doing this. i banged hard on the tin door of the locker. ‘help! please! hello!’ the dude spun around suddenly, practically jumping out of his skin, wide eyed with shock, and scrambling to cover his junk with the towel. ‘hello! im sorry, please can you help me!’ he took one of his earbuds out and looked curiously down at the mysteriously speaking locker infront of him. ‘yes, uh, hey. some assholes locked me in here, could you please help me? maybe get one of the staff or something…’ he stared blankly for a moment, then bent down and peeked through the slats of the locker at me. ‘um. hey… could you get me out please.’ ‘ass-holes?’ ‘yeah, some assholes locked me in here, and they took my key’ ‘sorry, i no have good english’ he chuckled, his voice was very deep. oh yeah, thats another thing i forgot to mention. those bastards took my clothes. i was wearing literally nothing but my boxers in there. ‘could you p l e a s e go get someone from the front desk to get me the hell out of here’ i said, burning with embarrassment ‘some assholes locked me in here and took my key and my clothes’ 'locked in ass-hole?’ he looked at me quizzically as i tried to tell him 'wtf, no’ but then a knowing smile spread across his face and he smirked. 'okay. i think i am understand’ he turned his back to me, so i was faced with his monstrously hairy ass once again, and then he spread his cheeks.

it was even hairier inside… thick black curls, slick with moisture. i was face to face with this mans bare asshole, i could count the wrinkles on the lips of his fat puckered anus. 'are you is ready?’ he growled softly the heady scent of his butthole was already making me feel lightheaded. before i could reply, his already huge anus distended even further as a blast of hot manly wind blasted through the slats into my (already confined) breathing space. it rattled the door and i could see his assflaps jiggling as the roar of flatulence erupted from it.

i banged on the door, but it was no use. i tried to recoil from the smell, but there was nowhere to go. the air immediately became ten times thicker. it was a powerful, intensely musky smell that caught in your lungs as you breathed it. pungent, but also sweet and musky, like a cigar marinated in armpit.

’-cough-cough- please…’ was all i could manage. before i knew it, another monster came trumpeting out of his sweaty elephantine anus. he started grinding his butt against the door and growling with pleasure.

then i heard the door to the lockerroom swing open again. 'heyy bud! thought i could smell ya in here’ i couldnt see anything, and the sound was muffled, but i could hear him talking to the stranger in his broken english. 'what have we got here then?’ i heard the stranger saw. light shone through the slats of the door once again as he backed his enormous ass away from it. a new face was peering down at me, bright blue eyes which seemed too beautiful to be set in such a grizzly masculine face. 'haha! horny little fucker!’ he ask you to fart on him?’ he said, turning the the first man, who nodded, his arms folded on his chest. 'fuck thats hot. i never thought to use one of the lockers. wonder if theres one big enough to fit me in…’

'please man -cough- i just wanna get out of here’ but he has already turned around and pressed his ass against the door. his hole was just as obscene as the first mans, and the smell was slightly tangier. he farted with the same strength, but slightly brassier in pitch. the whole locker seemed to vibrate as a new stream of gas merged with the first creating an unbearably potent mixture. 'how long has he been in here?’ 'im not know… he say…’ another fart ripped against the door and i couldnt hear what he said. 'fuck this is turning me on so bad’ another assquake violently rattled the door 'lets do it together’

i was actually starting to pass out. i was slipping in and out of consciousness. even though my whole body felt limp, the panic of my depleting oxygen gave me a surge of enough adrenaline to bang my fists on the door once again. 'LET ME OUT YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! YOULL PAY FOR THIS! LET ME OUUUUUUUUUT!’ the last of my strength used up, i fell back 'you bastards…’ the two full moons eclipsing my view shuffled out of the way, and two thick bearded faces stared down at me again

'idk man, i think hes had enough’ said the first, a hint of concern in his voice 'you okay in there, little guy?’ i could practically taste their assholes in my mouth. 'please let me out. ive been in here all day and my legs are cramped’ 'you mean… this isnt some kind of fetish thing?’ i explained my embarrassing predicament to him, and he translated it to the first guy whose face turned a shade of bright red. 'ahahahaha! what a misunderstanding! im really sorry bud, but you gotta understand how it seemed’ he was laughing his ass off (literally, tooting uncontrollably as his huge muscle gut shook up and down). i couldnt even look them in the eyes. 'for the last time, can you P L E A S E get someone from the front desk for me’ 'no worries kid, ill get you out of there in a jiffy’ he grabbed the locker by the sides and literally tore the door off with his bear hands. i genuinely saw the metal crumple under his huge leathery mits. he reached down a hand and pulled me out, literally lifting me up like a baby and setting me down on the bench. i was panting hard, grateful for the (comparatively) fresh air. my head was still spinning, i wobbled slightly and almost fell off but the first man caught me and held me steady.

'what a day youve had, son!’ you better hit the showers once you… uh… feel better. dont worry, i wont let them charge you for… um… that’ he said, pointing at the destroyed locker. 'um… thanks…’ i said, honestly just wanting to disappear.

'anyway, aint these things supposed to have a safety release on the inside incase someone gets trapped inside?’ he was examining the broken metal box, talking to himself more than me. 'yeah, look, see! theres this latch here, and if you flip it, it undoes the lock’ he wiggled it around and pointed out how it was connected to the locking mechanism on the door. 'industry standard’

as if this couldnt get anymore embarrassing

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Talk about hot, MFF has the largest library of male face farting videos, Visit our site for hundreds of male face farting videos for free! > https://malefacefarting.wixsite.com/site

[7kbuttcheeks]

Dive-Bar Bathroom Attendant

It was past midnight so the bar bathroom reeked of piss and stale farts. And this was one smell I’d have to get used to, among others, since this was now my work space. No I’m not a janitor. No I don’t take out trash and clean the bathroom or any other part of the bar, because I messed those jobs up too. As a waiter I kept getting orders wrong. Demoted to busboy I kept dropping glasses and forgetting to clear tables. Then I got demoted to dishwasher, but I didn’t clean them “well enough” and there were still smudges and layers of grease on dishes and plates. And as janitor I fucked up using the cleaning supplies and stained parts of the floor, countertop, and the straw that broke my boss’ back was when I mixed cleaners together thinking it would do twice the work, but we ended up needing to clear out on our first Sunday brunch of the season so the bar could air out the toxic chemicals.

“Incredible,” my boss’ face turned red, “there are no lower roles for you to fall into. You really are a brainless loser, you know that? Like you’re trying to ruin my business. Get the fuck out of here,”

“No please sir, I really need a job right now,”

“Then look somewhere else. You can’t do any of the jobs here. Worse than a high school drop out you act like you dropped out of 5th grade…”

“Please let me stay, I will do anything,” I begged. And yeah it’s pathetic but even though he was yelling at me, my boss was a decent guy and paid us well, more than I’d expect to get from another restaurant around here, and with my “skills” I couldn’t imagine getting any gig that paid enough for my rent…

“Nah, uh uh, the only, hah,” he laughed looking crazy, “the only thing you’d be good for is to stay in the bathroom and sniff up the patron’s farts so I don’t gotta keep stocking up on air freshener,”

But I did say I’d do anything, “…I could do that for you sir,”

He blinked, furrowed his eyebrows, but then started to laugh. His deep laugh made my stomach go cold.

…

At first he got mad and told me to scram. But I stayed and begged to take on the job. I don’t know if he felt bad for me or if he wanted to punish me or both, but regardless he suddenly smiled at the thought of this new job and told me to come back tomorrow, and to dress up.

Like how some older venues or high class restaurants have a bathroom attendant that hands you a towel or gives you mints, I had to stand in the men’s room by the urinals. I was dressed in a suit and tie to look important and classy, but my large name tag made it clear why I was there:

HELLO, MY NAME IS: Fart Vacuum

And when patrons laughed and asked me to explain, I’d tell them my job was to keep the bathroom smelling as fresh as it could be by letting patrons use my nose to relieve their gas. They never wanted more explanation, and while some were disgusted and called me a perv on the way out, most took advantage of this bar’s new feature.

Weekdays from 3-11pm, Friday and Saturday from 3pm-3am, and Sundays from 9am-3pm for brunch, I was in the mens room with my suit and tie, always ready to fall on my knees and let a customer fart in my face.

“If you fuck this up like the last jobs, if i smell one iota of gas, one single shit particle in this bathroom, then you’re done.” my boss’ warning echoed in my head. I fought my humiliation and disgust so I could shove my nose deep up against men’s assholes

The bar was in a hip area near the university so the clientele were mostly dudebros, fratbros, gymbros, every type of bro. And they all loved me…

“Ayy the sniffer’s in,” three bros stumbled into the bathroom. Regulars who always made sure to “unload” on me. Colton said, “don’t they ever give you a day off?”

“No sir I work every day,” I gulped. One of the conditions was that I had to work whenever they were open, and that I wasn’t allowed to take time off for any reason.

“Every day, man you fucking love farts,” he laughed in my face.

“I try to please sir,”

Colton, Brett, and Hunter walked past me to the three urinals cramped in the corner by the sink, instead of the more spacious toilets. That was because when they all pissed at the same time and were close together, they’d yank their pants and underwear down to their ankles like they were in kindergarten.

“Ready for a Beef Stew medley from me and the boys, Ass Hound?” He glared at me with a cruel smile.

“Thank you sir it would be my pleasure,” I have to be especially nice to Colton ‘and the Boys’ because he used to work for the owner and they’re good enough friends that one single comment of dissatisfaction would be the excuse my boss needed to get rid of me.

I crawl on the dirty floor feeling more cold piss soak into my suit pants. My knees sponge up all the messes from guys who weren’t conscious enough to aim. My vision is taken up by their three toned asses peeking out from under their shirts.

They’d let out their piss farts without warning, forcing me to leap toward the sound and catch as much gas as I could. It was harder without clothes to keep the farts soaking in them; when they were naked it was easy to miss the full stink unless I shoved my nose up into their assholes.

Hunter’s laugh echoed against the tiles while he was watching me over his shoulder diving nose first, desperate to sample his beef stew.

“I might need to upcharge you for this extra beef,”

PRPTRPTRPTPRTRPRPTPPPPP

SNIFF

…

Even though the bar was closed, my job wasn’t done yet. To bring up staff morale, the Boss told me I had to start offering rimjobs to help them destress and unwind after a long hard shift.

Hernandez the cook who also hated me since day 1 was always happy to be first in line for his post-shift “ass scrub”. He smirked down at me with his scruffy smile, “Hope you don’t mind the extra seasoning down there Señor Fart-Vacuum, I’ve been on my feet almost 12 hours now,” He pulled his pants down and mooned me his large hairy ass cheeks. I stared in dread at the deep dark gray patch of sweat that stuck to his underwear, knowing more was waiting to be licked up out of his crack…

“Don’t just stare, do your job. Only one you can do,”

“Yes sir sorry,” I stuttered. He pulled his cheeks apart, his ass crack hairs sticking together from sweat. The musky stink hit me once his hole was spread open, waiting for me. I shut my eyes and stuck my tongue out.

“Ahh, now that’s a good job,”

I grimaced from the awful raunchy taste. I could feel my tastebuds get coated in grime, my tongue getting tangled in his long black hair, his sweat moistening my lips and dripping deep into my throat. I gagged on his asshole again and again, but he hadn’t moved so I needed to keep scrubbing and sucking.

“Hope you’ll save your energy for the holidays, we’re gonna have a lot of customers.”

Then Hernandez let out a short but thick beefy fart,

ppprptrptpppp

Tears welled up in my eyes. I needed this job. I needed to keep working my tongue, gagging on his farts and swallowing as hard as I could.

[deportistassexys]

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[dothestinkface]

[facesittingdreams]

Triple H always wanted someone in that sweaty trench of an ass. Once he saw the opportunity present itself, he had to take it. Instead of being in rikishis ass, now someone would be in his sweaty ass. He felt his opponents nose hit his asshole and he just smiled. As for why Shawn was recoiling at the sight? Well, being in an alliance with triple H had its stipulations. One of which was weekly ass worship. At least someone finally shared his suffering.

[writinggross]

The Sleepover (Part 1)

(Contains: M/M, Farting, face-farting, mouth-farting, ass-licking, oral sex, poor hygiene/body odour, feet licking, dirty feet, tongue-bath, incest (cousins), underage (unspecified ages, intending to be between 17-19). Non-consensual. 

Sequel will contain scat and scat-eating.)  

Jamie was dreading the night ahead. His cousin Scott, a year older than him and a couple feet taller, was staying over. For as long as Jamie could remember, Scott had always tormented him. While Scott wasn’t necessarily violent, he still gave him hell by mocking him, spreading lies about him, and forcing him to smell his armpits and farts. Anything Scott thought would humiliate him. Jamie hated that he was scared of the older teen, since while Scott may be bigger than him, he wasn’t exactly buff. He did, however, have toned, lean muscles from running around with his asshole friends, and something in his face—maybe it was his eyes or the way he smiled—was feral. A mere look from Scott provoked dread in his poor cousin. He could overpower the much smaller Jamie and he often did just for the fun of it.

Keep reading

[stinkfacestories]

Free Weight

You were laying on the bench press when you felt it. Two massive thighs on either side of you, then the weight of a titanic frame sitting on your stomach. You looked down. It was Robert Oberst.

"So I hear you don't like to put your weights back" he said. All around you was the proof. Free weights strewn about. "It's just common courtesy, man"

"So? Ok I'll put them back after" you say. "Get off me"

"Not so fast" he pressed your chest down. "If we don't punish you now you'll just keep doing shit like this."

"Punish me? What are you gonna do?"

He smiled. "I'd love nothing more than to park my fat asshole on your smug mouth and sit there for a few hours farting. Making you huff up each and everyone. Be there so long that you forget that normal air isn't supposed to smell like shit. Make you beg and cry for a thirty second break only to deny you." He leaned in close. "But I'm not going to do that."

For a moment your heart fluttered. It had been a sick joke.

"Because Eddie already called it"

You looked up. Behind you Eddie hall towered over you. He was wearing his tightest pair of black shorts. His package bounced back and forth almost nearly as much as his round and muscular butt.

"This the free weights guy Rob?" He said. Robert nodded, pressing his hand hard to keep your head on the bench. Eddie looked down. "Well mate good news. I got about 350 pounds of 'free' weight for ya" he stepped forward. You were looking up at his back side now. He was really going to do it!

"No no no—" you cried as he sat down on your face smothering you. His cheeks, while as beefy as a bull, spread like soft margarine across your face. There was just enough space to breath I'm and out in his hairy cheeked valley. The smell was a mix of earthy musk and old sweat, but you didn't have time to get used to it. From the gaping void between his cheeks, Eddies asshole let out a disgruntled and angry sigh. The wet and sputtering fart hit you in the face like a garbage truck in the middle of July. You could actually feel it blowiy on your face. You tried to breathe through your mouth, but you could taste it. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it burned. Your eyes were watering. There was no solution.

You felt both of them shake with laughter.

Eddie leaned to the right, giving you a glimpse of light. You tried to call fir help but as soon as your mouth opened he let another short, gutteral, trumpet like burst.

"Alright that was the right. Let's see what the lefts got" he rolled over. For a moment all his weight pressed into your face and you swore you were about to pop. When he leaned left you saw Robert leaning to see your face. This time when Eddie let loose it was a sting of wet pops, each one a brown raspberry happing into your face.

"Good thing I wore my old shorts. Those ones felt a wee bit wetter than I'd like" he said. He lowered his leg and settled you between his cheeks. He wiggled into place, using your nose to scratch his itchy, moist, crack.

There was no sign he was getting up soon. You'd never again leave the free weights out again. Just the thought of having to go through this every time made your stomach want to hurl.

Eddie slid back, his package bouncing on your face. He looked down at your face.

"learned your lesson?" He said.

You creaked out a strained: "Yes"

"Good" he slapped your face. "But I'm still filled with farts and since your heads right here. Strap in this is going to be a long day"