majorbombs - Tumblr blog

majorbombs · 1 month

Text

10/10 story, go shoot a fat load to this homophobe getting fart tortured

Smell of the boss from hell

I need to knock this interview out of the park. It’s a personal assistant position for one of the heads of one of the most successful corporations in the country. It pays extremely well and I’m in need of the money. I’m paying child support to five different women. I’m barely staying afloat; I need this job.

After some direction from the front desk, I take an elevator up to one of the highest floors. Apparently, my hopefully new boss, Mr. Smith has a whole floor to himself.

As I step out I notice a man, who’s on his phone, who hasn’t noticed me yet. My eyes widen, holy shit, it’s Johnathan Wright. I bullied that f*gg*t all through highschool.

Sweet, a little intimidation will remind him of my straight superiority, and I’ll be running things. My financial woes are as good as gone. I can't help but smirk.

“I guess I’ll be seeing your gay-ass everyday from now on since the position is mine. Isn’t that right f*g.” I shoot him a superior smirk.

The f*g looks up at me with a bored expression, angering me. I walk right up to his face. “I said isn’t that right f*g!” I hiss through clenched teeth.

The f*g has the nerve to roll his eyes. “I don’t work here. I'm dropping off my husband's phone.” After saying this, a door opens behind him.

Out walks a burly, tall, intimidating looking man. He’s wearing a tailored suit that costs more than what most people make in a year.

John walks up to the man, and hands him his phone before giving him a kiss. I cringe.

“I’ll see you at home.” He says before leaving, not giving me a second glance.

I look back at the other man, he’s staring back with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, you're not right for the position. Get out.” With that he spins around to head back into his office. My jaw drops as I take in the man’s huge bubble butt. His slacks look like they’re painted on his thick cakes. Each of his cheeks are as big as my head.

I shake my head and run up to him in desperation. “Please sir, I need this job.” I call.

He turns to me, “I know; we thoroughly research possible employees.” He states as I stop in front of him.

He looks down on me as if I’m an insect, scaring me. How is this f*gg*t intimidating me? I don’t like it, but I need this job.

“Please, I need this job.” I beg, looking down at his feet, submissively.

“Very well, it’s yours. Be here tomorrow, 8 sharp.”

I smile in relief.

He scoffs as he heads back into his office. “I’ll enjoy killing that smile.” He comments, threateningly, before shutting his door in my face. Mr. Smith is written on the door.

I pay him no mind. What’s the worst this f*gg*t can do?

Next Day

I accidentally slept in and came in at 8:30. As soon as I sit at my desk, Mr. Smith storms out of his office and right up to me.

“You’re late!” He growls.

“I’m sorry sir my ph-” Mr. Smith cuts me off.

“Save your excuses! Here’s what I think of them.” Mr. Smith turns around, and bends over, sticking his big ass in my face. This act stretches out the material over the seat of his pants, accentuating its size.

Me gapping at this is a huge mistake.

PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBTTTTTTT

I recoil in disgust as he rips a trumpeting fart into my face and open mouth. It reeks of rotten eggs and spice, and has me gagging.

“What the- did you just fart on me?” I cry.

“Here's your answer to that.” With his bubbly rump still in my face, I hear him grunt.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBBB

Mr. Smith rips a bigger, greasy-sounding fart in my face that smells worse. It’s so strong that it makes the seat of his slacks flutter.

Mr. Smith sighs in relief before straightening himself. “If you don't wish to be farted on then refrain from displeasing me in the future.” Mr. Smith then hikes up his right leg.

RRRRRRRPPPPP-HHHHHDDDDDD

Mr. Smith fires off two loud but short farts, back-to-back in my face.

“You can’t do this to me. I quit.”

Mr. Smith looks down at me, over his shoulder, with a nefarious smirk. “You quit and I’ll make sure no one will hire you. The best you’ll be able to find is flipping burgers. I’m sure the courts and your kids won’t be too pleased with that.” I go pale at his words. Matthew Smith is a powerful man and can ensure this will happen.

“Please stop this.” I plead.

“I’m certain someone you bullied in highschool pleaded for you to stop but you didn’t. Expect the same amount of mercy from me.”

I notice Mr. Smith’s glutes flex and then relax.

A rancid-smelling sbd hits me in the face like a brick. It reeks of raw sewage and onions. It has me coughing and my eyes watering.

Mr. Smith reaches back and wafts his fumes towards my face and then goes back into his office.

I have no choice but to get to work while my whole desk area is enveloped in his putrid fart cloud. Sadly, his thick butt stink lingers for hours.

Several hours later, Mr. Smith exits his office and walks up to me. He looks down at me with a cold expression.

“Mr. Jones, order us lunch with the company credit card.” He commands.

I give a nod and hold out my hand for the card.

I panic as Mr. Smith turns around. What I see is horrific. The credit card is wedged in between his slacks-covered, bulbous globes. Just a small corner of the card is sticking out.

“Well what are you waiting for? Take my card!” Mr. Smith barks.

I hesitantly reach for it with my hand.

“No, no, no” Mr. Smith admonishes, “Use your teeth! And do it quickly! I haven’t got all day!”

I feel both crushed and cornered. I’ve got no choice.

I lean forward, bringing my face near his toxic backside.

As my face nears his bubble butt, the stench of his stale farts and his ass musk assaults my nose.

To get to his credit card, I have to press my face into his pillwoy mounds; I grimace feeling them molding around my face. I slightly turn my head and bite down on the tip of the credit card. As soon as I do this…

FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGDDDDDDDDD

Mr. Smith fires off a growling ripper. Even with the credit card and his pants in the way, I feel the stream of hot air hitting my teeth. The eggy, acidic vapors flow through my teeth and coats my tongue and the back of my throat. I yank the card out, let it fall into my hand, and start retching on the taste and smell of his nauseating gas.

“Order Mexican, Mr. Jones. I want my farts to be spicier than this for the rest of the day.” Mr. Smith takes a step back, consuming the side of my face with his meaty ass.

PPPPPPRRRRRRR-FFFFFFFFHHHHHHH-OOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT

I groan as he blasts my face with a string of trumpeting farts. With that, he heads back into his office.

It takes me five minutes to stop almost-vomiting. Once I’m able to manage, I call up a nearby Mexican restaurant. Our order of several burritos will be here in an hour. I wish it was longer.

An hour later, I get a call from the main desk that our lunch is being brought up by Mr. Smith, which confuses me. Maybe it’s Mr. Smith’s father?

I contact Mr. Smith through the intercom. “Um Mr. Smith, I think your father is bringing up our food.”

“What?” He replies, sounding bewildered.

As Mr. Smith’s office door opens, so does the elevator. And out walks John Wright. Oh, f*gs can get married. He’s Mr. Smith too.

Mr. Smith gives me a side glance that screams ‘I’m an idiot’.

“Hey, I got myself Chinese food and thought we could have lunch together.” John says as he walks up to Mr. Smith.

With a smile, Mr. Smith nods his head towards his office, wordlessly ordering John inside.

As John passes, Mr. Smith pulls a burrito out of one of the bags. It must be mine.

When John disappears into his office, Mr. Smith shoots me a nasty grin.

He unwraps the burrito from its tinfoil and sets it on the end corner of my desk. Mr. Smith then spins around, hovering the seat of his pants inches above my burrito. Ppppsssssssshhhh

Mr. Smith drops a nearly inaudible butt bomb on my burrito. I cover my nose with my hand as the smell reaches me. It lives up to the saying: silent but deadly.

Without a word and looking satisfied, Mr. Smith walks into his office to enjoy lunch with his husband.

My stomach rumbles in hunger. Because I woke up late, I didn’t have breakfast. I haven’t eaten all day. With despair I pick up the tainted burrito and bite into it. I nearly spit it out, the taste is rancid, but I need food. It's a struggle to eat it all, but I do.

45 minutes later, they exit his office, and Mr. Smith escorts John to the elevator. Once John steps into the elevator, Mr. Smith says, “You two have a nice ride back down.”

John looks confused. Before he can say anything, Mr. Smith wheels around, pointing his ass at his husband.

FFFFFFFFFFMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDPPPPPPP

Mr. Smith rips a bubbly fart into the elevator.

John grimaces as he fans the air in front of his nose, but he’s still smiling.

Mr. Smith laughs, “ Haha, 10 years together and I can still trick ya into a hotbox. I love it.” He teases just before the elevator doors close.

Mr. Smith turns around and scowls when he catches me looking at him.

“Stop gawking and get back to work!” He growls. I quickly focus back on my computer. As he marches back into his office, he rips a poot with every step.

Ppbbtt, ffrrpp, mmvvbb, rrlldd

Once he closes his office door, the entire floor is completely polluted with his ass gas. Like before, his butt stink lingers for hours.

Some time later, Mr. Smith asks through the intercom. “Mr. Jones, have you finished filling out my calendar for the rest of the month?”

Oh shit, I forgot about that.

“N-not yet sir. I’ll start on that right away.” I nervously reply.

Mr. Smith doesn’t respond over the intercom. Instead, he storms out of his office and up to me, a moment later.

As I feared, Mr. Smith spins around, aiming his fume-blasting canon at my face.

What I’m not expecting is Mr. Smith reaching behind, grabbing the back of my head, and then pulling my face into his bubbly ass. His fat cakes smother me and muffle my yelp.

“Here, maybe only being able to smell this for the next few days will remind you to always keep my calendar up to date… UGH”

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG-DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Mr. Smith unleashes 2 minutes of thunderous ass-gas, point-blank in my face. It’s so powerful that it has his cheeks and my face quaking. The stench of sulfur and digested meat destroys me. It has me coughing and gagging and my eyes watering.

Once his fart comes to an end, instead of letting me go, Mr. Smith keeps my face pressed against his ass and starts wiping it from left to right and up and down, all over my face.

“Ah, let’s work that bad boy into your pores.” Mr. Smith explains as he keeps grinding his ass against my face for about a minute.

When he finally lets my head go, I fall back into my chair, gagging and trying not to puke.

Mr. Smith looks down at me, over his shoulder, with contempt. “My calendar better be filled and correct in the next 30 minutes or you’ll be getting another noseful of my burrito-powered butt rockets, Mr. Jones.” He threatens me before retreating back into his office, letting me suffer alone.

Once I gain my bearings, I drop everything and focus on his calendar.

Damn, he was right. It’s been two hours and everytime I breathe in, all I can smell is his fart.

A Week Later

My first week here has been a hellish one. My every mistake earns me getting farted on by Mr. Smith.

Got him the wrong coffee… PPPPPRRRRRWWWWWWBBBBB

Forgetting to wear a tie… FFFFFFVVVVVVOOOOOMMMMMM

Typing my notes in the wrong font… RRRRRRLLLLLLLAAAAADDDDD

I’m getting farted on innumerous times a day.

It’s been only 7 days and all my work clothes reek of his ass fumes. Even a trip to the cleaners didn’t get rid of the stink. I’m constantly getting judgemental looks from everyone I walk past.

I’m impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach my floor. It’s already 5 after 8 at the moment. I’m hoping Mr. Smith won’t notice.

I go pale when the elevator doors open. Mr. Smith is standing in front of my desk. His hands are braced against the top of my desk and he’s sticking his ass out.

Mr. Smith looks back at me with a frown. “I will not abide tardiness, Mr. Jones. Come here and get on your knees.” He orders.

I whimper as I make my way towards him. I get on my knees when I’m a foot away. His ample mounds, stretching out the seat of his trousers, fills my sight of view.

Mr. Smith arches his back, extending his ass out more, burying my face in his meaty orbs.

“For me, Mr. Jones, tardiness stinks. And I bet you’ll feel the same way after this… GGH”

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDD

Mr. Smith rips a 7 second, chainsaw-sounding fart right in my face. It stinks of rotten eggs and cabbage.

I try to pull away but Mr. Smith grabs the back of my head, keeping my face smothered in his ass.

“Nu-uh, I’m not finished with your face yet. Since you’re 5 minutes late, you'll huff up five minutes of my ass gas. Let this be a lesson to you… NGH”

RRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLWWWWWWWWWWVVVVVVVVVV

DDDDDDDDDDMMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMM

BBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRR

VVVVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBBB-AAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP

As promised, Mr. Smith vents 5 minutes of his butt vapors right up my nose. And it doesn’t end there. So I don't forget his lesson, he farts up my nose for five minutes straight, several times today. And that doesn't include the dozens of other times he farts on me today for my other screw ups.

A Month Later

I’ve been working for this flatulent monster for an entire month. Each day is a nauseating nightmare.

His butt fumes have now been ingrained into my skin. I’ve bathed in every kind of body-wash and soap I can find, and even used tomato paste, but nothing works. I’m rocking a serious case of blue balls because every girl turns tail when they catch a whiff of me.

Mr. Smith is ruining my life. I’ve only known misery for the past month. Everyone says he's a hard-ass who demands nothing less than perfection, but I know he’s torturing me because of my past with his husband.

Man, fuck those bitches who got pregnant with my children! Fuck my f*gg*t-of-a-boss! And fuck his f*ggy-ass husband!

Speak of the devil, a little before noon, the elevator opens revealing John. Mr. Smith steps out of his office, “Come on babe, lets go get lunch.” Calls John with a smile.

Mr. Smith smiles back.

Fucking gross; disgusting f*gg*ts.

Mr. Smith's piercing silver eyes lock on me. A cold chill shivers down my spine.

“Mr. Jones, are those reports finished?” Mr. Smith booms.

“N-not yet, sir.” I meekly answer.

Mr. Smith narrows his eyes at me. “Well it better be done by the time I return from lunch with my husband or you’re gonna get a taste of my chili-empowered displeasure.”

With a sneer, Mr. Smith turns away and sticks his fat ass in my face. He grunts and presses down on his stomach.

PPPPPPPVVVVVVVVOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB

I cringe as he fires an airy fart right in my face. The eggy stench flows up my nose.

Mr. Smith scoffs before heading towards the elevator.

I take a hesitant peek, wondering if John is enjoying my torture. Instead, I see him on his phone, not even caring about my suffering. For some reason that’s far more insulting.

Mr. Smith returns after taking an extended hour and a half long lunch. And unfortunately for me, I haven’t finished the reports.

I’m sweating bullets as Mr. Smith walks up to my desk.

“Are those reports finished, Mr. Jones?” Mr. Smith gets straight to the point.

“T-they’re almost f-finished, s-sir.” I stutter out.

He glares daggers at me.

No! No! No! I shout in my head as Mr. Smith slowly wheels around. Mr. Smith’s bubbly posterior is aimed at my face, from the other side of my desk.

While grunting and straining, Mr. Smith says, “HHG… Then smell my displeasure… NGH''

BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT

A 45 second long, foghorn-sounding fart bellows out of Mr. Smith’s ass. Even though he’s on the other side of my desk, his fart is strong enough to blow back my hair and dry out my eyes.

As it ends on a wet note, I’m bent over, head between my knees, dry-heaving. The vile stench of digested meat and methane destroys me.

“Ah, I did warn you that chili gives my gas a bit of a kick, didn’t I Mr. Jones?” Mr. Smith comments before heading into his office, leaving me broken at my desk.

2 Months later

These past two months have been sulfuric awfulness. I breathe more of Mr. Smith’s farts than natural air, everyday.

However, for the first time, I think today might be a good day. I started work an hour ago and Mr. Smith hasn’t farted on me once.

At the moment, we’re in one of the meeting rooms, acquiring a smaller company to join our conglomerate. I’m sitting next to Mr. Smith, with our company lawyer on the other side of him. Across from us is the owner of the soon-to-be-acquired company and his lawyer.

This should have been a quick meeting but suddenly the owner decided to triple the original price.

Mr. Smith scoffs before sliding the new contract back over to Mr. Charles. “That is not the price we agreed on, Mr. Charles.”

Mr. Charles frowns, “Well, that’s my new selling price. Take it or leave it.”

Mr. Smith slams the original contract down on the table, and slides it over to Mr. Charles. “That’s not happening. Now take the original offer or things are about to get smelly.”

I hear Mr. Smith’s stomach gurgle loudly. That combined with his threat as me physically shaking with fear. Damn it, that’s why he hasn’t farted on me yet today. He’s been saving it for this meeting.

Mr. Charles’ lawyer frowns as well. “We will not be threatened!”

Mr. Smith says nothing, just smirks ominously. He then gives our lawyer a nod. My fear heightens as our lawyer pulls out and inserts nose plugs.

Mr. Smith locks his jaw and his face turns red with exertion.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVUUUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Mr. Smith blasts out a minute long, thunderous fart that rumbles against his seat. The sulfuric stench fills the room, sickening me, Mr. Charles, and his lawyer.

“You disgusting pig!” Mr. Charles cries out.

Mr. Smith’s smirk turns devilish. “Keep talking, you're just gonna make me stink this place up even more… HGGH” He hikes up his right leg and…

MMMMMMWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDD

Mr. Smith unleashes another huge, beastly fart, poisoning our air even more. Mr. Charles and his lawyer stand up and make for the door, looking like they’re gonna hurl.

They try the door but it’s locked. I’m full-on panicking now. We’re all trapped in this room with this farting demon.

The two glance back at us with fear in their eyes. Mr. Smith's devilish grin broadens.

“No escaping for any of you. Now sign or keep suffering!” Mr. Smith stands up and aims his ass in their direction. Unfortunately that means his ass is just behind my head.

PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM-RRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Mr. Smith keeps venting out one monstrous fart after another, their way. We’re all coughing and crying from Mr. Smith’s fumes. Even our lawyer, who has nose plugs, is suffering.

Through his coughing, Mr. Charles shouts, “Never!”

Mr. Smith growls like a feral dog. He picks up the contract and moves it to the end of the table, closest to Mr. Charles and his lawyer. He then climbs onto the table. He's on his hands and knees, with the contract located right behind his big ass.

Mr. Smith looks back and shoots a malicious grin at Mr. Charles. “Oh you're gonna sign. But since you’ve annoyed me so much, you’re gonna have to do it while I light your face up with my butt rockets.” Mr. Smith grits his teeth and fires off several more huge farts, in a row.

MMMMMMMRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB

FFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR

DDDDDDDDDWWWWWWWWVVVVVVVVMMMMMM

“Sign for our original agreement and you're free to go. Until you do, I promise, I won’t stop farting.” Mr. Smith temporarily ceases fire to make his threat before continuing his gassy assault.

RRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDD

PPPPPPPPPPUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMRRRRRRRR

VVVVVVVVVVVAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDPPPPPPPPP

It’s too much for Mr. Charles’ lawyer. He drops to the floor, knocked out. Mr. Charles looks like he’ll be following suit soon.

Mr. Charles' fearful eyes find mine. “Just do it! Believe me, he can do this all day, with ease.” I warn him.

He turns his gaze to Mr. Smith, on the table. “Alright, I’ll sign, just stop farting” Mr. Charles pleads.

“You’ve lost all rights to demand anything. Now sign or die by my farts… NGH”

PPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVVUUUUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBBDDDDDDDDDDDDD

A minute and a half long fart erupts out of Mr. Smith’s ass. It has the entire room shaking. The stink of rotten eggs and man musk makes itself known.

Mr. Charles dashes to the table and bends down to sign the papers. This puts his face right in front of my boss' toxic booty. Mr. Smith mercilessly blasts his face with smelly poots.

PPPPPPFFFFF, RRRRRRWWWWWW, BBBBBDDDDD, VVVVVVPPPPP, FFFFFHHHHH, DDDDDDDPPPPPPP, PPPPPPPWWWWW

“There, I’ve signed. Please sto-MMM”

Instead of stopping, Mr. Smith reaches back, grabs the back of Mr. Charles head, and pulls his face into his ass. I feel pity for Mr. Smith's next victim , but also relief because it's not me.

“I’m not finished with you yet! For what you tried to pull, I’m making sure all you smell for the next year is my butt stink.”

Mr. Charles' body thrashes, trying to escape, but Mr. Smith isn’t letting him.

“NGH… Good doing business with you Mr. Charles… UGH”

PPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTT

A 2 minute long fart roars out of Mr. Smith’s rump and pointblank into Mr. Charles’ face.

At the halfway point, Mr. Charles' flailing limbs fall limp at his sides, and he stops moving. When Mr. Smith fart finally ends, he rubs his ass around Mr. Charles' face before releasing the back of his head. As soon as he does this, Mr. Charles’ unconscious body falls to the floor like a ragdoll.

Mr. Smith sighs in relief as he climbs off the table and fixes up his appearance.

Mr. Smith glances at our lawyer, “Mr. Reyes, please have security toss these pieces of trash to the curb. And have someone fumigate this conference room.” He orders.

Mr. Reyes nods before pulling out his phone.

Mr. Smith looks at me, “Let's go. It's time for us to get back to work.” He commands.

I timidly nod and follow him out of the door that's unlocked now.

We walk down the hall and step into the elevator that I recently learned was Mr. Smith’s personal one. Apparently anyone using an elevator after Mr. Smith is a health hazard. I wish that applied to me but it doesn’t.

As usual, I stand right behind him in the lift. As we rise, he pelts me with airy, eggy farts.

I frown as we exit on our floor. A man comes out of Mr. Smith’s office with his chair.

“It’s all set up and functional, sir.” The man says.

Mr. Smith nods, before tipping the man 200 dollars, flooring him.

We're too late to act when the man takes Mr. Smith's private elevator down. We hear him violently coughing as he descends.

Mr. Smith pulls out his phone and calls security. Letting them know about the guy who's most likely unconscious in his personal elevator.

Mr. Smith frowns at me. “Get to work, Mr. Jones!” He barks.

I nod before nearly sprinting to my desk. Mr. Smith heads to his office.

My brow furrows as I start up my computer. I didn’t hear Mr. Smith’s door close. When I turn to look back, my face runs straight into Mr. Smith’s slacks-covered, meaty bum. I can’t believe this huge man silently crept up on me without me knowing.

With my face buried in his thick cheeks, I hear Mr. Smith darkly laugh.

“Heh, I see you’re eager for motivation to get to work. I’m more than happy to oblige.” Mr. Smith grabs the back of my head, keeping me in place, and then grunts.

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRWWWWWWWPPPPPPPP

He rips an 8 second, trumpeting fart right in my face. He sighs in relief as he grinds his butt vapors into my pores.

When Mr. Smith releases me, I fall back into my chair, coughing and gagging.

“Get to work or I’ll fart off your nose, Mr. Jones. Don’t tempt me!” He threatens before disappearing into his office.

Excluding the last hour, this day is going well. He’s hardly farted on me; I count that as a victory.

A Few Hours Later

It’s the end of my workday and for the first time, the number of times Mr. Smith has farted on me hasn’t reached the double digits. That alone should've been a warning that life was about to screw me over.

As I’m getting ready to leave I get a call from a girl I was fucking 7 months ago, telling me I’m the father of twins.

Fuck! More kids I want shit to do with and more child support I have to pay! Working for Mr. Smith pays extremely well, but I’m barely staying afloat with the amount of child support I'm paying already. This is going to destroy me. I need overtime. Mr. Smith is my only hope.

Instead of heading home, I knock on Mr, Smith’s office door.

“Enter.” His voice booms from the otherside.

I do as he commands. Mr. Smith frowns up at me, as I walk up to his desk, where he’s working.

“Mr. Smith, I was hoping I could get in some more hours. I-I need the money.”

“Sure, I’m always willing to help out an employee. A few days of the week, like today, I work later than usual. So you'll assist me, starting now.” Mr. Smith offers with a devilish grin that has my nervousness sky-rocketing. But it’s no matter; I graciously accept his offer.

Still grinning, he stands up and tells me to round the desk. I walk around his desk and stand beside him. When I do, I frown at his new chair.

It’s bulky and just beneath it is a cot-like thing that could fit a grown man, that starts just beneath the seat of the chair. The cot also has straps on it.

My jaw drops as Mr. Smith reaches down and pulls a piece of the seat off, revealing a face hole. Shit! With this someone will be trapped beneath Mr. Smith’s chair, as he sits on their face.

“Your duty will be to huff up all my ass gas so I don’t hotbox myself, in my office. I won’t treat you as a person, you’ll just be a piece of furniture. Do this and I will pay you very well.” Mr. Smith explains with a feral grin that turns my blood to ice. I’ve got no choice.

I lay down on the cot with my face sticking out of the hole in the seat. All I can see is the ceiling. Mr. Smith fastens the several straps, binding me tightly to the cot, unable to escape.

I start to sweat with fear as Mr. Smith steps in front of the chair. His fat rear-end extends out several feet, eclipsing my trapped face in its shadow. My fear heightens as I hear the sound of his pants being undone. With a tug, Mr. Smith pulls his pants and underwear down, just beneath his ass. His mountainous mounds, covered in a dusting of hair, bounce into the open.

“No you never said-MMM” Mr. Smith silences me by dropping his bubble butt onto my face and barking out, “Silence, furniture doesn’t speak or care that I'm bare-ass.”

The last thing I see is Mr. Smith's pillowy globes parting as he sits down, revealing his twitchy pucker that’s heading straight for my nose, before everything goes black.

His meaty slabs spill over and clamp around the sides of my face like a vice. And the tip of my nose is lodged in his sweaty hole.

With my ears also buried in his cavernous crack, I both hear and feel Mr. Smith’s voice. “Alright, it feels like it’s time to start earning your pay, fart-cushion… NGH”

BBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP

VVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMMWWWWWWTTTTTTT

FFFFFFFFFFFFKKKKKKKKKOOOOOOOBBBBBB

RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDMMMMMM

Mr. Smith opens the floodgates, blasting a never-ending stream of beefy farts right up my nose. This is like a nightmare. I can feel the heat of his fumes burning the tip of my nose.

In an act of self-preservation, I hold my breath, not wanting to breathe in. This causes Mr. Smith to laugh.

“Haha, how long can you keep that up, fart-cushion? You’re gonna have to breathe sometime.”He taunts me.

I only last forty seconds before I breathe in deep through my nose and open mouth. The stench of spoiled poultry and sulfur flows down my throat and sets my lungs ablaze. I'm immediately coughing and retching on his toxic fumes. I can feel Mr. Smith’s mounds jiggling around my face from his cruel laughter.

Even with me barely able to breath, Mr. Smith ruthlessly pushes out one noxious butt-burp after another, up my nose.

I don’t know how long this has been going on. Three minutes or three hours could've passed, I can’t tell. But I’m given a moment of reprieve as Mr. Smith leans to the side, exposing half of my face to freedom. I desperately breathe in cool and semi-fresh air.

What Mr. Smith says next, causes me more misery. “Just so you know, fart-cushion, whenever I work late, my husband stops by so we can have dinner together.”

After saying this, I hear his office door open. “Hey babe, I got you two extra bean burritos like you asked-” John's voice pauses abruptly as I hear him sit in the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Matt, yes he bullied me all through highschool for being gay, but I’m over it.” John says.

Mr. Smith rests his lifted cheek back down, resealing my face in his cavernous crack.

“Maybe you are but my booty sure isn't… GGH” Mr. Smith counters before farting in my face.

PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBTTTTTTT

“Baby, I have a beautiful home, a career I love, and a successful handsome husband who's hung like a horse. My past with him doesn’t haunt me in the slightest.”

Mr. Smith responds with farting in my face, again.

DDDDDDDDDLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAABBBBBBBBB

I gag on the skunky fumes Mr. Smith rips up my nose. The paint-peeling stench is inhuman.

Like the stench, the realization that this’ll be for the rest of my life, hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ll always be working beneath this flatulent villain, who’ll be farting on me constantly. And thanks to his power and influence, I’ll never be able to quit and find a decent paying job anywhere else. All because of who I bullied in highschool. I can't believe that I used to think that gay people were beneath me.

"Wow, that's very big of you, Johnny. Let's see if my nasty booty will follow your example."

That's followed by Mr. Smith's guts loudly and ominously gurgling.

“Oh sorry, love. My booty's big, but not that big. Lips on hole, fart-cushion; time to earn your overtime.”

His statement horrifies me. I can’t do it. I can’t do that! I keep my mouth shut.

Instead of angering him, this makes Mr. Smith laugh.

“Haha, oh silly fart-cushion, there’s no resisting this.” Mr. Smith slides his greasy pucker against my mouth, and then starts wiping it from left to right, forcing my lips open.

“NGH… say ah… UGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDDDDDDTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

197 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 2 months

Text

Smell of techniques

Several months ago I found an app called ‘Smelly love’. It’s a gay dating app for guys with a farting fetish. There’s only a couple hundred active users but I found someone who’s incredibly near. In fact he attends the same college as me.

His username is ‘Romeo Skunk’ and his profile pic is just like mine, of his midsection, from the neck down. Though, while I have a swimmer-build, he’s ripped, rocking a chiseled 8-pack.

We've been chatting daily for several months now. It all started within the first hour of me downloading the app. He slid into my DMs.

Hot user pic. Just the kinda body I wanna rip ass on

He ended it with a mushroom cloud emoji, turning me on. And we’ve been in touch, getting closer and closer, ever since.

We’ve finally decided to meet up in my small studio apartment since he lives in a frat house. We want some privacy. It's wild we’re doing this today with it being Valentine’s day.

I nervously wait for the knock on my door. This’ll be the first time I’ve ever been farted on.

Finally, someone knocks. I wipe the sweat off my forehead before opening the door.

I find a guy, my age, on the other side. As shown in his pic, he’s muscular. He’s wearing a backwards black cap, a white sleeveless muscle-shirt, and a pair of green basketball shorts. The guy’s also incredibly handsome.

Wait, I know him. He’s on the tennis team. I see him practicing when I walk by the tennis court to get to my class. I can't help but watch him as I walk past. He has an insanely big bubble butt. Watching his fat cakes bouncing around in his shorts as he runs around the court is the hottest thing I've ever seen.

He drinks me in as well. A sly grin forms on his lips. “Damn, I’m looking forward to farting on you.” He bluntly states, making me hot.

“P-please, come in.” I let him inside and close the door. My eyes widen as he walks past me, watching his mountainous globes wobble with his every step.

As if he senses it, his head whirls around, catching me leering at his ass. Cheekily grinning, he puts his hands on his knees and twerks for me, making his big buns clap against each other.

I look down, trying to hide my embarrassment. I hear him laugh, softly.

“Haha, come on, don’t hide that pretty face from me. I wanna look at what I’ll be farting on soon.” He teases. But he isn’t done yet.

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPPPPPP

An 8 second explosion booms throughout my apartment. I look up, eyes wide, finding Skunk Romeo standing there with his leg raised. He's shooting me a sexy and mischievous little smirk.

The stench of rotten eggs and cabbage reaches my nose. The atrocious smell is turning me on.

“Ah, there you are, dollface. I’m Scott but please call me Skunk. Everyone who knows me does. I’m not sure why.” He jokingly says as he waves his hand behind his ass.

“I-I’m Jack. I don’t h-have a nickname.” I stutter out, completely flustered.

Scott's grin widens, “How about fart-face” If he doesn’t stop I’m gonna shoot a load in my boxers.

“Would you like a soda? I’m k-kinda thirsty.” I say, hoping to cool myself down. I lead us to the kitchen area, getting two cans of soda out of the fridge.

I place them on the miniature kitchen counter. I come to a complete halt when I feel something big, warm, and rotund pressing against my lower back. “Heh, oh I know what you’re thirsting for.”

I look back, seeing Scott has spun around, and is pressing his bubble butt against me. He's looking back at me, over his shoulder, with a lopsided smirk.

My mouth goes dry. Is this it? Am I about to be farted on for the first time?

“So, were you being truthful in our messages? You’ve never been farted on?”

I can't speak. All I can do is nod.

His smirk turns into a wolfish grin. “Well you're trapped with the right guy. I think it's funny as hell to rip ass on my bros and hot as hell to rip ass on cute guys. Guess which camp you’re in. Here, I’ll give you a big clue… UGH”

Scott closes one eye and grunts.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWWW-RRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP-LLLLLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Scott rips a long, sputtering fart, on my back, that has my entire body shaking to it's core. Even with the layers of clothes in the way, I feel the hot air streaming out of his hole and warming my lower back.

My small kitchen area quickly fills with the stink of rotten fish and garlic.

“Ah, there you go, dollface. Always be prepared. With me being the Skunk, I'm always ready to spray ya.” Skunk teases as he wipes his ass from left to right on my lower back, rubbing his butt stink in.

“So, how was the first time being farted on?”

“F-fucking hot.” I state truthfully. I’m hard as steel.

Skunk laughs, “Hehe, that’s just a beginner's technique for farting on someone. Let's try something more advanced.”

Our sodas forgotten, Skunk takes me by the hand and leads us to my second hand love-couch.

He makes me sit on the couch and then spins around, aiming his fat bulbous backside right at my face. Skunk takes two steps back, standing on the couch, above me with his feet planted on either side of my legs. He then squats down, planting his bubbly ass on my crotch. I’m sure his pillowy cheeks can feel my hard-on from the way he’s snickering to himself.

"Alright dollface, wanna experience a technique I call 'up, up, and away'?” Skunk asks with a cheeky grin as he looks back at me.

“Please” I practically beg.

Skunk rewards my good manners with a fart on my crotch that makes me moan.

He then slides his big ass upward until it's pressed against my stomach.

“Up… GGH” BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWHHHHHTTTTTTT

He slides his big ass further up until it’s pressed against my chest,

“Up… HGH” MMMMMMMMRRRRRRRDDDDDDPPPPPPP

He then lifts off of me and rises up until his voluptuous ass is aligned with my face. Before I can react, he thrusts his ass back, smothering my face with his blubbery mounds.

“And away… NGGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWPPPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

A 30 second hurricane of ass gas explodes out of his bum and pointblank into my face. The sulfuric stench singes my nose hairs and has my eyes burning.

When his monstrous fart finally comes to an end, Skunk starts rocking his ass on my face, grinding his fumes into my pores. I don’t mind it, in fact I'm loving all of this.

Skunk finally pulls his ass a few inches away from my face. He peers back at me, inquisitively. “Was that too much or do you want more?” He asks.

It takes a few seconds for my coughing to subside.

“If you have more then please keep going.” I plead.

He shoots me a toothy grin. “Dollface, you’re dealing with the Skunk. My fart tank is never empty. I’m about to spray… FGH”

RRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPPPP

Skunk rips a 9 second, eggy, trumpeting fart right in my face. It’s so powerful that it blows back my hair and has the seat of his mesh shorts billowing.

His butt vapors put me in another coughing fit but it is quickly muffled as he throws his ass back, recovering my face with his pillowy ass-slabs.

Skunk proceeds to fart like mad up my nose as he talks.

“It’s a travesty that you had to wait so long to be farted on, dollface” FART “Let me tell you, it’d be a different story if you went to highschool with me” FART “Especially with me being in denial of my own sexuality back then” FART “I’d be farting on you whenever I could to prove to myself that I wasn’t attracted to you” FART “When in truth, I'd be desperate to pound your hot ass” FART “Hate to admit it but I was pretty much a bully back then” FART “Whenever I passed you in the hall I’d make sure to fart on you” FART “I’d make sure to walk by you during lunch, and when you’d open your mouth to take a bite, I’d rip a fart in your mouth” FART “And I’d make sure to lock you in a supply closet or locker for a few minutes, but not before farting in it” FART “And that, dollface is called hot-boxing” FART “Don’t worry, I’ll do it to you sometime” FART “But back on track” FART “Wouldn’t you have enjoyed that during highschool?” FART “Being the Skunk’s favorite target… GHH”

DDDDDDDDDDBBBBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPP

Skunk’s farts and words are too much, I convulse as I unload in my boxers.

Skunk gets off of my face and sits down next to me, letting me catch my breath. Once I gain my bearings, I notice him looking at the wet spot on my jeans with a cocky smirk.

“Damn, this is embarrassing.” I mutter.

Skunk laughs, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I nod, not really buying it. “Can you wait here for a minute? I'm gonna change in the bathroom real fast.” I explain before getting up and getting some pants and boxers out of my nearby dresser.

I step into the bathroom. A hand stops the door as I try to close it. Skunk stands in the doorway with a sly grin. “Now’s as good a time as any.” He says, confusing me.

Skunk turns around and extends his ass out, into the bathroom.

With a straining voice he says, “Why waste a perfect opportunity - NGH… I’m gonna fartbox ya… GGH”

BBBBBBBBBBDDDDDDDDDDDDHHHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFFF

Skunk blasts me with a chainsaw-sounding fart. He gives me a wink before slamming the door shut.

My small bathroom quickly fills with the stench of rotten eggs and rancid meat. I’m hardening again which is uncomfortable with my soiled boxers.

I take off my boxers and pants, and quickly clean myself with a loofah and soap before putting on a new pair of boxers and jeans.

I open the bathroom door to find Skunk standing by my open dresser, holding the collar of one of my shirts against the seat of his shorts. He doesn't look bothered about being caught. In fact he gives me a cheeky grin before scrunching up his face in concentration.

FFFFFFFFWWWWWWW-PPPPPPMMMMMM

“Ah, I thought I'd have more time. I was planning to fart on all of your clothes so you'd get whiffs of my butt stink during the coming weeks, getting turned on in public.” He shrugs before continuing. “Oh well, not like you can stop the Skunk. I gotta spray.” He proceeds to pull out several more of my clothes and farts on them. I’m fully hard, watching Skunk fart on my stuff.

“By the way, I call this technique: 'territory marking'. The Skunk’s very possessive.” He states just before farting on my favorite shirt.

Our fun is ended by some aggressive knocking on my door.

I open it, finding that it's my nextdoor neighbor. He’s a football jock from our college. He’s much bigger than me and slightly bigger than Skunk. At the moment he can’t see Skunk who’s deeper in my place.

He looks angry. “Dude, I have a girl over and your loud tv is interrupting us.” He says, making my brow furrow in confusion.

He makes an annoyed sound and adds, “You’re watching some sort of action movie and we can hear all the explosions through the thin walls.”

My eyes widen, realizing he’s referring to Skunk’s butt bombs.

Skunk comes up from behind, grabs me by the back of the neck, and pulls me behind him so he can step in front of the jock.

The jock goes pale.

“Shit, uh, hey Skunk.”

Skunk grins. “Hey DJ. About those explosions, they're coming from me, not his tv. And you shouldn’t be complaining, you know I can rip ass much louder than that. Here let me show you.” Skunk turns around and arches his back, pointing his bubble butt at DJ who’s only a few feet away.

DJ looks panicked, “Please, no Skunk! Last time you farted on me I smelled like your ass for an entire week. Please, I got my girl over.” He pleads.

Skunk ignores his words. Instead, he quickly pulls down the back of his shorts, mooning DJ, before widening his stance and leaning forward, causing his cheeks to spread open.

Damn, I wish I was on the receiving-end to see Skunk's hole.

Skunk closes his eyes and grits his teeth.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPP

A 25 second juggernaut-of-a-fart roars out of Skunk’s ass and washes over DJ. DJ’s hair wildly whips around thanks to Skunk’s nasty and powerful butt wind. I’m pretty sure the whole building can hear and feel this monster. DJ looks like he’s gonna be sick. The sight of Skunk defeating a guy bigger than either of us is pretty hot.

Skunk pulls his shorts back up and slams the door in DJ’s sickened face. We hear him coughing and dry-heaving as he stumbles back to his apartment.

“I call that technique: 'tagging'. When I brew a nasty one and spray someone, bare-ass, it lingers on them for days. You’ll find that out soon enough.” Skunk teases with a shit-eating grin.

I’m about to say something but am stopped by Skunk as he pulls me into his arms, and then rests his back against my front door. “Shh, listen.” He orders.

I hear my neighboring door open and a girl say, “Ew, you smell gross Darrell. I’m leaving.” That's followed by the rapid sound of clicking heels.

We hear DJ pursue her. “Please baby, just give me 30 minutes to take a long shower and I promise the smell will be bearable.” he begs.

Still grinning, Skunk shakes his head and mouths ‘No it won’t’.

“Ugh, stay away! You smell so bad Darrell!” She returns as we hear her stomp off with DJ following.

When we hear DJ passing by, Skunk farts loudly on the door, making it rumble.

DJ cries in fear from the sound but then we hear him resume chasing his girlfriend.

“Damn, you’re amazing.” I compliment Skunk, pleasing him.

“You ain’t even seen half of my farting playbook.” he brags.

Skunk’s mischievous grin tells me he’s got something planned.

“Skunky carry.” He calls before bending down, pressing his shoulder against my midsection, and then straightening up, carrying me over his shoulder. My upside-down face is inches from his shorts-clad, fat booty.

Skunk makes his way to the couch, pooting in my face with every step. PPFF, RRMM, VVBB, DDRR.

When we reach the couch, he pushes his ass out, covering my face with his meaty globes.

BBBBBBWWWWWWW-FFFFFFTTTTTTT

He rips a 5 second eggy fart in my face that makes me gag. Skunk lays me out on the couch before laying himself on top of me so we’re face-to-face.

For the first time, he looks serious.

“Look, I know we just met, but I’m not crazy right? You feel the connection we have too?”

I nod, “I do. It feels like we just click.” My response has him boyishly grinning.

“Hell yeah! So instead of this being a simple hook-up, be my Valentine, let’s go on a date.”

I smile. “That sounds nice but with it being Valentine’s day I doubt any restaurant won't be packed.”

Skunk shrugs with a sly grin as he gets up. “We don’t need to go to a restaurant. Let’s have a picnic at the nearby park. We have everything we need in your fridge.”

Next thing I know, while I’m still lying on the couch, Skunk squats his big ass over my face. “Here dollface, have a taste of what you’ll be having for dessert.”

PPPPPPPMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR

Skunk sprays my face with 5 seconds of his skunky wind. He snickers at my coughing.

“So what’s with you calling me dollface?” I ask as we walk to my fridge.

“Well one, you're cute. But also, when I call you dollface, what I actually mean is fart-face. I just don’t wanna accidentally call you that in public. So, whenever I call you dollface, you know what I really mean.” He explains and then gives me a wink. How can someone be gross and sexy at the same time?

We take out lunch meat and bread, and start making sandwiches side-by-side at my small counter.

As we work, Skunk hip-checks me, gaining my attention. I brace myself, noticing him shooting me a cheeky grin.

“Hey dollface, I call this ‘Skunky seasoning’. I love doing this to my frat-bros all the time. They never learn not to leave their food unattended when I’m around.”

Skunk picks up one of the sandwiches and brings it down, in front of his butt. He closes one eye and takes a deep breath.

BBBBBRRRR-TTTTTTTPPPPPPPP

He rips two short, trumpeting farts on the sandwich. Then slides it into a ziploc bag.

“Ah, there you go dollface, I booty toasted your sandwich. You’re welcome.” He teases, and then snickers at my visible hard-on.

We pack drinks, chips, and the sandwiches into an old dufflebag of mine, and leave. Once we’re out of the building, Skunk walks ahead of me. He looks back at me with an impish grin and says, “Crop-dust.”

RRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBB-PPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOO-MMMMMMMMMTTTTTTTTTTTT-FFFFFFFFFFDDDDDDDDD

Skunk releases a long, raunchy fart as he continues to walk ahead of me. Thanks to his fat cakes bouncing against each other, his fart sounds choppy. My eyes sting as I’m forced to walk through his hellish fart cloud; it's so hot.

It takes us only a few minutes to reach the park. All the while he crop-dusts me and farts against my hip several times.

The sun’s out but it’s kinda cold so not too many people are at the park. We find a nice secluded place beneath a tree. I lay out a beach towel that we can sit on. As soon as we’re sitting down, Skunk leans away from me, lifting his left cheek up, and aiming his crack my way.

“Hope you got a strong stomach, dollface, because all through this romantic picnic I’m gonna be spraying ya with sbds. Ngh… Ah, smell my Valentine's.”

Skunk says and then starts wafting his butt vapors towards my face. The sickening stench of rotten fish and onions poisons my lungs and instantly has me gagging. He wears a cocky grin, knowing that he’s turning me on.

True to his word, he keeps launching sbds my way, but we still can talk and eat, like a real date. As we’re nearly finishing, two guys walk up to us.

Skunk’s grin tells me they’re his friends. They’re probably from his frat. They’re both ripped like Skunk.

When they reach us, they kneel down to be on level with us. The shorter one says, “What’s this Skunk? Don’t tell me you got a date. Who the hell would wanna be with your gassy ass?" He ribs.

The taller one raises an eyebrow at me, “You know he's nicknamed Skunk right? This guy farts a lot and they're brutal. No joke, he’s cleared out buildings and auditoriums.” He warns.

I shrug, “I know he’s gassy. I don’t mind.”

The shorter one chuckles, “Heh, well it's your funeral.”

Skunk finally chimes in, “Wrong, it's your funeral. Especially with the terrible position you put yourselves in."

Before they can react, Skunk grabs the both of them by the top of their heads and pulls them down and forward. Skunk spreads his legs wide and they fall face-first near his crotch. Skunk quickly wraps his muscular thighs around both of their heads. He’s headscissoring two dudes at once.

Skunk shoots me a sinister grin, “This is called the ‘Skunk lock’. Trust me, you don’t wanna find yourself in their position.”

Skunk grits his teeth and starts grunting and straining.

"HGH… Hang on gentlemen, the floodgates are opening… UGH”

BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWMMMMMMPPPPPPP

RRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD

FFFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM

DDDDDDDDDDBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWTTTTTTTT

A series of massive farts thunders out of Skunk’s ass and right into his two victims' side-by-side, trapped faces.

The two are struggling wildly to escape but are getting nowhere, while Skunk’s cackling like a super-villain. Luckily no one’s nearby to see or hear this. I’m sure if they were they’d be calling the police.

In an effort to escape, the two rise onto their knees, lifting the lower half of Skunk’s body along with them, making him laugh.

“Haha, sorry bros no escape for you. This Skunk's gonna spray the fight out of ya… GGH”

MMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRR

DDDDDDDDBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLVVVVVVVVVVV

PPPPPPPPPUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBB

After another barrage of monstrous farts, they fall back to the ground with their faces still in Skunk’s crotch.

“Nice try fellas but still no use. Better luck next time… NGGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT

I stare slack-jawed as a 40 second, noxious hurricane, roars out of Skunk’s ass and pointblank into the two’s faces. Their struggling becomes weaker and weaker all throughout his fart. Their bodies go completely limp as Skunk's butt-bomb comes to a sputtering end.

Skunk sighs in relief as he unclamps his legs, revealing his bros’ unconscious faces.

Skunk grins at me. “What I said earlier was a lie, dollface. It may not be today, but one day I’ll trap you in the Skunk lock when you least expect it.” He teases.

With almost preternatural speed he hops into a crouched position with his bubbly rump pointed in my face.

RRRRRRFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWDDDDDDD

I get a noseful of his eggy fumes causing me to shiver.

We pack our stuff back into my duffle-bag, since we’re finished. All that’s left is Skunk’s two buds, unconscious on the grass.

"What should we do about them?" I ask. Skunk’s already on it, flipping them both onto their backs.

“No worries dollface, I know how to wake these two up. I've tons of experience knocking guys out with my farts. And soon you’ll be another notch on my belt.” He taunts, wearing a lopsided grin and shooting me a wink.

Skunk squats down, lowering his bubble butt inches above the taller guy's face.

“‘Skunking salt’ can wake anyone up.” He says before pressing down on his stomach and narrowing his eyes.

PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHMMMMMMM

He rips a 4 second fart into the guy’s face. The guy groans and starts to stir.

Skunk repeats the same process over the shorter guy’s face.

BBBBBBBWWWWWWWLLLLLLPPPPPPPP

Once he’s done he takes my hand. “Come on, let's get outta here.” He leads us off. Just before we disappear around the corner, I see his two victims getting to their feet. Good, I didn’t want to leave those two alone while they’re unconscious.

We make it back to my apartment and I’m nervous. I’m hoping this impromptu Valentine's date isn’t over yet.

I open my door. “You wanna come in?” I ask hopefully.

With a sly grin, Skunk complies. He turns sideways to slide past me. When his ass is pressed against my hip he pauses and…

FFFFFFWWWWWWW-RRRRRRRRPPPPPPP

He rips two consecutive, squeaky farts on me. I have to stifle a moan as his noxious vapors surround me.

“Ah, sorry about that, but what do you expect when you’re on a date with the Skunk? You better realize that I’ll be spraying you a lot if you agree to go on another date with me.”

“There's no if’s, I definitely want a second date.” I state, making him grin.

“My booty's happy to hear that.” He teases.

Skunk leads us to my bed. “Lie face up, on the bed.” He orders, and I quickly do. Skunk steps onto my bed and walks up it. When he reaches my shoulders, he spins around, facing away from me, with his feet planted on either side of my shoulders.

I longingly stare up at his huge, protruding, mountainous globes, lording high above me. The back seam of his shorts is dug into his crack, further accentuating the size of his blubbery mounds.

Skunk suddenly drops his ass down towards my face, making me gasp. He stops his rapid descent when his ass is only a foot above my face. I hear him snickering, causing his meaty slabs to jiggle.

“Dick.” I call him, making him laugh harder.

“Haha, sorry dollface, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Here, let me make it up to ya with a faceful of Skunk cakes.”

Skunk eases his bum down. His ass fat spills over my entire face, smothering and dominating me.

“Big whiffs dollface, smell my apology… HGGH”

BBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWDDDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFF

Skunk blasts me with a loud, rumbling, 8 second fart that has my face and his bulbous cheeks shaking. The stench of rotten eggs and spice has nowhere to go but up my nose and into my lungs. It has me coughing and gagging, muffled beneath his fat ass.

Skunk works his ass up and down, and from left to right, rubbing his stink in.

Skunk rises a foot off of my face. I blink a few times, readjusting to the light. I watch Skunk grab the waistband of his shorts, from the back, and pull them down. His furry, meaty, bronze moons spill out of his shorts and wobble above my face.

Using his hands, Skunk reaches down and spreads his cheeks, letting me see his sweaty, winking pucker surrounded by black hair.

“Deep breath, dollface. This technique, I call: ‘spelunking in the Skunk cavern.’”

With that, Skunk brings his ass back down, my face easily being swallowed in between his gargantuan cheeks. His doughy mounds pour over the side of my face, making contact with the bed, sealing my entire head within his enormous ass. All I can breathe in is his hot, sweaty musk, and my nose is being kissed by his winking pucker.

FFFFFFFDDDDDDDDDDDDRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

"Ah, I really needed that, haha. But it's Valentine's day, we need to make our first kiss something special. Lips on hole, dollface."

Skunk starts wiping his grimy corn-hole all over my face. He only stops when his pucker is on top of my lips.

"Feel privileged, dollface. You're the first person I'm trying this technique out on. I call it: 'Skunkily-ever-after'."

I hear Skunk's guts gurgling above me.

"Uh-oh, you hear that, dollface? This kiss is definitely gonna knock you out. But I got good news: when you wake up, I'll send you back to dreamland with a classic dutch-oven. I know, I know, the Skunk loves to spoil his Valentine.

RGH... And speaking of spoiled, smell this... UGH"

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

294 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 3 months

Text

The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.

The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.

He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.

He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.

The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.

"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.

Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts."

You rolled your eyes. "Not really."

"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.

"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"

"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."

You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".

"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"

He pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.

"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.

He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.

"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”

"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.

"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"

"No!" You coughed.

"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.

"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.

"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.

"Fuck...no," you say.

He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.

"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"

"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.

"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.

"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"

"They're funny!"

"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"

"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."

"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"

"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."

He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"

"Oh god no!"

"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.

"No, no, I can't."

"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.

"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black.

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.

“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.

"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.

"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.

"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"

He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.

"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "

You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."

"It was a lot. It was," he said.

He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.

You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."

He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.

"Now you" he said

You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.

"What the hell. Do it"

"I don't know if I can," you said.

"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.

"I can't."

"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"

"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."

"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to. Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.

"Your brother's coming over?"

"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."

"Wait..."

"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."

"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.

"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."

"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"

"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."

You laughed.

All you could do was laugh.

165 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 3 months

Text

where do I sign up for this

Dom diaries (Season 2)

Dom 5 - Fatal Frank

"Yes slut that's right, those 24 tally marks indicate all the jocks that passed out in my cheeks! If mighty, muscular, masculine men such as them couldn't survive, what makes you think you can? It's too late to back out now though. You already placed the $200 bet!! You must crawl behind me and pull my heavy cheeks apart. If you survive the wave of stench and damp heat that hits you, then you must slot your head in deep, making sure your nose is right against my tight, sweaty pucker before letting go. Once my mounds snap back into place, compressing your head, there is no backing out as I pull the top strap band down around your head and my cheeks. I'll begin the 2 hour session starting with slow movements, forcing your head to follow as I eat my domino's pizza. Then, once you are secure in place, already drenched in my shitty scented sweat, I'll begin the farting. Each fart will be wet with a unique sting you've never felt before. As you struggle to back out the sweat with make you slip back in deeper than before as the band ensures no escape. Finally, as you accept your place and push your nose deep, trying to die from my gas to end the torture, you will realise you are meaningless and just another victim to my Fatal Fart session. Unfortunately, passing out is no use, as once you awake, your nose will forever be marked with my stench, and your clothes will never smell clean. Now what are you waiting for...dive in!" - Frank

83 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 4 months

Text

It's Beginning to Stink a Lot Like X-mAss

A guy is so lonely he curses Christmas and hates on the best holiday of the year. Santa will not stand for such an insult. …

~2k words

…

Twas the night before Christmas and muttering to himself at the local bar was a lonely man named Rudy. As he sat there with another bottle of beer he stared side eyed at the couples around him. A guy and his girlfriend, a woman with her fiance, lesbians, gays, they thems…everyone around sat hand in hand and glistening eyes. Except for Rudy. Another year, another Christmas where he’s single, who has no one to kiss under the mistletoe.

“Fuck Christmas,” he muttered, “and fuck these guys…”

Rudy had hoped to find some guy to come home with him. He’d hoped for a hairy daddy. Hell he’d take a thick twink so long as he could suffocate under heavy ass cheeks. But no cigar at this bar on Christmas Eve.

“fuck all these people,” Rudy, jealous of the hands grabbing at breasts and butts and lips kissing, “and Fuck Christmas.”

He was done, tossed back the rest of his beer, tossed a $5 bill tip, and hopped off the stool to head home.

…

Beyond the town up at the North Pole, Santa Claus sat at his workshop desk and checked over his lists when he felt a disturbance in the air. Someone had lost their Christmas spirit.

“Ho ho who dares to hate this holiday,” he concentrated and with Christmas magic he could see Rudy walking through the snow and kicking at rocks while he stumbled home.

“Oh ho ho…poor young man. Rudy, let’s see, Rudy Romero, ah what has got him down, what is in his heart…”

At first Santa was appalled at the hopes brewing in Rudy’s mind the longer he focused, but despite his current humbugging he was otherwise a Good Boy this year…did well at work, treated his friends with generosity, cared for his grandmother even.

“I suppose…” Santa rubbed his white beard, “if it will help…”

And so he stood up and transformed into a younger version of himself with thick brown hair and a strong build, albeit with a belly from milk and cookies.

The disguised Santa took a long swig of milk and said “Oh Rudy, I hope your little nose is ready…”

…

Rudy fumbled with his keys and continued to stumble up the stairs to his cheap studio apartment. He threw the door open and collapsed in his chair facing the TV. Should he get another beer? Turn on a movie?

“whatever” he mutters, “doesn't matter.” He opted for a couple Christmas cookies on a plate and a glass of milk. He slumped in his chair and felt his eyes go heavy. This Christmas would be another reminder of his loneliness. He eyed the fireplace and thought he should make sure the embers go out before he sleeps.

“wait, what? the fuck?” he had no fireplace in hsi apartment. at least he didn't have one before. Instead of the boring blank wall that was supposed to be there, a gorgeous brick mantle bordered a fireplace of ashy logs and low sparks dying out.

For a moment, Rudy thought he was dreaming. Or maybe something uncommon happened to him: someone had slipped a hallucinogenic in his drink. That idea seemed absurd, but not nearly as absurd as a fireplace appearing in his apartment.

And before he could question it more, he heard tumbling and thumping from the brick chimney and watched a puff of soot fall through to the embers. What in God’s name was happening?!

Then he appeared. Climbing out of the chimney was a tall, very tall, and broad shouldered beefy man draped in a large red velvet cloak. He had a thick dark brown beard and brown hair poking out of a velvet Santa hat, and under the cloak Rudy saw his naked chest coated in hair, his large belly, and very hairy legs like black fur. Only tight green boxer briefs covered what was clearly an impressive manhood. Rudy gulped and trembled under the man.

“This isn't real,” he gulped, “I’m dreaming,”

But the stranger smirked and put his hands on his hips, “Oh ho? Dreaming? Are you sure Mr. Rudy Romero?” His deep voice was powerful and booming.

He reached out and yanked Rudy up off his feet. Now he was terrified and wanted to scream but with the man’s grip he found he couldn't let out any sound, his scream stuck in his throat. Was he too paralyzed with shock to react? Or was the same magic which created the fireplace working in his throat?

“Oh ho ho Rudy, don't you know who I am?” He smiled a warm smile in his terrified face, “I’ve watched you grow your whole life, I heard all your wishes for every GI Joe, Lego set, Gameboy games, novelties, all until you were too big to believe in me.”

He could only blink, “B-But you dont look like Santa,”

“I suppose not, but you wouldnt be scared of an old man would you?”

“W-Why should I be scared?” He forced a little laugh “if you’re really Santa then you're a good guy, right?”

“I'm good for the nice boys and girls. But you’ve been naughty this year, Rudy. You are a naughty little boy. And you need to be punished.”

With that Santa tossed Rudy toward his recliner. He hit it and slid down onto the hardwood with his back against the chair and his head hitting the seat. He had no time to move but watched, almost in slow motion, as Santa yanked up his cloak, twisted around, and fell backward with his green covered ass crashing down onto Rudy’s face. The last thing he saw was the dark patch of sweat that outlined his ass crack right before the cheeks draped his face and his nose got wedged into the sweat patch.

His nose flattened and his face ground into the seat of his recliner, Rudy couldn't breathe at all. He thrashed around in the darkness of Santa’s ass cheeks and screamed into his crack where the underwear was most soaked in sweat. The heaviness of his body pressed down upon Rudy’s head and swallowed his face deep into his ass crack.

“Ah ha ho, milk and cookies, you must have known I was coming.” Santa kicked back in the chair and flipped on Rudy’s TV as if the poor man weren’t suffocating in sweaty man ass. The TV blasted some classic version of A Christmas Carol as Rudy struggled in vain, kicking his legs and clawing at the wood floor because he was quickly running out of air.

“Ho ho don’t worry, I’ll help you breathe,” Santa’s voice was reassuring.

Except he let out a longer-than-life fart.

PPTPRTPRTPRRPTPRTPRTPRPRPTRPPPPPP

Rudy choked and gagged on the thick rancid air which was no doubt made worse by so much dairy. And thanks to the Magic of Christmas, Rudy was able to breathe freely as if the gas were normal oxygen. In fact despite being crushed Rudy felt the gas fill up his lungs as if he were in the great outdoors and had the clearest sinuses in decades, even despite the alcohol which should have made them swollen and clogged. Unfortunately for Rudy he was able to suck in Santa’s ass blast and smell it all fully.

“Keep sucking these down, ho ho, I really don’t want to smell them.” Santa smirked, though it was gross it was nice to be in his young body and indulge in such an immature job.

And despite his violent gagging and flailing limbs in protest, Santa noticed something hard rising in his jeans.

“Oh ho ho you really are a naughty boy, a filthy naughty boy,” Santa bent down, letting Rudy’s eyes free for just a moment, to undo his belt, then zipper, and pull both his pants and boxers down.

He then got up just enough so Rudy could only see his big green ass, but then Santa pulled his underwear down revealing two large cheeks covered in thick black hair, with a very furry crack. Rudy’s eyes bulged open and he felt frozen staring up at Santa’s asshole, since Santa grabbed his cheeks and spread them wide to show how large and deep his crack really went. Without Rudy being able to mutter a word, and still in such shock he forgot to breathe, he lost his chance at fresh air because Santa fell back and his asshole swallowed Rudy’s nose completely.

PRTRPTPRTPRPTRTPTRPRPTPRTPRPTPRPPPPPPPPPP

MMMMMMPHHH!!!

Rudy was screaming up this giant ass which reeked so much worse, as if he hadn’t showered in…centuries, so many years of farts and sweat as his hole clenched and grabbed his nose. And Rudy could smell it all, it bloated his sinuses and lungs till almost bursting, it overflowed into his mouth and the pressure made him swallow.

His cock was throbbing hard now naked and free.

So Santa brought up his leg and decided to slowly rub it with his socked foot. Rudy could feel the material and the sweat and could even feel his precum leaking out. He could feel the orgasm welling up, his dick betraying him despite this obscenely disgusting situation, but as it was hot, red, and throbbing, Santa brought his foot up just before the cum could shoot.

That was as torturous as the gas.

The minutes rolled on with more farts bursting into Rudy’s lungs and throat, more stink making his eyes dripping in tears and his tongue recoiling. His feet continued to thrash about and he tried clawing at Santa’s legs, thighs, the sides of his ass cheeks, but even pulling at them couldn’t let a single gust of fresh air. Santa let his magic keep Rudy conscious and alive through nothing but his farts, no matter how much his stomach churned. And of course he kept rubbing and teasing Rudy’s cock with his feet, slowly rubbing up and down to bring him just to the edge, and then letting go. Each time Rudy screamed up his asshole, trying to beg him to stop and let him breathe or cum or both, but everything he said was muffled into the thick taint hair.

Santa watched the rest of the movie this way, raising the volume to ignore Rudy’s desperate cries. He even squirmed his hips a bit so he could use Rudy’s nose as an asshole scratcher. He assumed that helped grind the stink in further if that were even possible. He was glad he had some time to relax and take a break to let out all his gas before venturing on his nightlong trip around the world. And it was so much fun to play naughty games instead of acting like the jolly, boring, sexless grandfather version of himself he had to keep for the kids.

“Alright Rudy I suppose your punishment had been more than enough. However there is only one way I’ll get off you, and only one way to help you get the release you keep begging for,”

Santa got up just a bit, hearing Rudy gasp and suck down the only fresh air he’s tasted in two hours. He felt delirious from reeking farts and the insane amount of edging. In his hazy dreamlike state, his eyes fixed on the evil asshole that had kept him prisoner for so long.

“Tongue out, and slip it right up my asshole.”

Rudy couldn’t believe this was all real. He thought he was going to lose his mind. He had to stick his tongue out and kept it up with gusto.

“Perfect,”

Santa fell back down and could feel his hole swallowing up Rudy’s tongue. He licked furiously as if he were wolfing down Christmas dinner. Santa could only laugh while moving his hips to massage Rudy’s face with his heavy ass cheeks. He enjoyed himself for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Rudy was nearly smothered by the constant mashing of his face, feeling the stink rotting deep into his skin.

And as Santa’s feet returned on either side of Rudy’s cock, stroking it slowly and watching the precum drool out, he decided to finally end this “punishment”.

PPTPRPPPPPPPP

This fart made a revolting sound over Rudy’s tongue and echoed in his cheeks, gushing into his nose and burrowing deep into his brain.

And his cock shot out thick ropes of cum all over his shirt, and Rudy let out a forceful relieved moan, almost screaming at the mix of pleasure and disgust.

Feeling his tongue go limp, Santa peeled his cheeks off of him and turned around to see him on the verge of passing out.

“So tell me Rudy, what do you think about Christmas?”

His voice was far away, “I love it. I love Christmas. I’m sorry Santa I fucking love Christmas. I’ll never hate Christmas again I swear. Oh my God I love Christmas.”

Santa smiled and as quickly as he arrived, he vanished in a little flourish of magical snowflakes, leaving Rudy a disheveled wreck sitting on the floor with his naked ass and his torso coated in a larger than usual load of cum. He shivered and trembled with each breath of fresh air. His nose was rubbed raw and red from being stuck inside the asshole for so long.

Left behind under the tree, Rudy would wake up the next morning and find a present, inside wrapped up tight was a pair of green boxer briefs which reeked of Santa's manly ass. The card read;

Something for you to remember me by. Merry Christmas, Rudy the Red-Nosed Fart Sucker.

S. C.

p.s. I'll be coming back for those next year, and I expect a plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk with your face ready to be my chair again. Make sure not to wash them.

78 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 4 months

Text

”No, God, please, don’t sit on me, it’s so fucking sweaty, plea-MMMMPPPHHH!”

Beautiful hairy strapped ass!

776 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 5 months

Text

Cole’s Cavern

You were walking down the hall, on your way out of school when Cole stops you in the hallway. He was a popular dude in the wrestling team who won almost every match.

“I’ll give you $20 if you beat me in a match” He says cockily. “What if I lose?” You reply. “Then you lose. You don’t owe me a dime.” He winks at you and it’s hard not to accept his offer. You needed some money and worst case scenario you lose a wrestling match.

You follow Cole into the school’s gym and set down your backpack. You walk over to the wrestling mat setup in the middle and start to stretch

Cole is on the other side, already in position to start. You finish your stretches and also get into position. It’s a little awkward since Cole’s wearing his singlet while you’re just in some casual clothes

“Ready?” He asks you. You nod your head and he starts to count down.

Go!

Cole runs at you and immediately pushes you to the ground. He smiles as he holds you down for a couple seconds, then declares his victory. You couldn’t even put up a fight, he’s much stronger and faster than you.

“Alright, time for your side of the bet.” He starts to chuckle as he rearranges so that he’s stomach down kn the mat, and grabs your head with his thighs. You’re confused and try to escape, but he has you tight

“And for the fun part.” He laugh as he starts to unzip his singlet, revealing his nasty, sweaty butt. You try even harder to escape, but it’s useless.

Cole starts to lower your head into his crack slowly. The smell starts to hit you and you gag slightly. Cole just chuckles as your face gets closer and closer. Soon, the tip of your nose is touching his cheeks

Suddenly, he slams your face deep into his ass and laughs as he twists his hips left to right, sinking your nose even deeper. “How’s it smell? But it’s great since I haven’t showered since the last tournament.” You start to cough at his raw smell alone

“Just wait little dude, it’s gonna get a whole lot worse.” He chuckles and you can heart his stomach start to rumble. He twists your head as deep as it can go into his ass, and then-

BRRRRRRPPPPPPOO

He sighs in relief as he crushes your head with his legs. The smell is absolutely horrible and you immediately start to gag. You push back against him, but his legs hold you in place. It starts to get hotter in his crack “Oh no buddy, you’re not leaving here for a while.”

FFFFRRRRRTTTTT

Another fart hits you straight in the face. You feel your eyes start to water and you don’t know how much longer you can last. You start to claw at his chest, but he uses his hands to hold your arms down. “Double trouble for trying to escape bro.”

BBBBBRRRRRTTTTT

FFFRRRRRRPPPP

You start to get light headed from the fumes, and your mind starts racing. You try to figure a way out, but get distracted when a smell starts to hit your nose. It’s worse than anything from today and you realize he’s releasing a long SBD up your nose. You struggle to keep your eyes open until- “Lick my hole or it’s gonna get a lot worse” You’re shocked by his words and refuse. “You asked for it bro.”

BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTPPPPPPPP

A powerful fart vibrates the tip of your nose, and you think it lasts 20 seconds. You refuse to stick your tongue out and he starts to countdown. “Come on bro, you’re not gonna like what’s next if you don’t. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1… Alright man, your funeral.”

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTT

A minute long fart comes from his ass and straight into your nose. You start to pass out halfway through but he continues. He keeps you in his cavern for a couple minutes, letting go of his gas. He groans and uses his hands to shake your head in his ass. He sighs as he stands up and takes off his singlet, stuffing it in your mouth. He chuckles as he takes a picture on your phone. He leaves you a text

“Meet me here every Friday until you win a match. Or else..”

You dread going to school for the rest of the year

145 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 5 months

Text

brother fart throne bet

I thrashed around, wiggling and spasming, anything I could do to get Mark off of me, but it was no use. After like half an hour of wrestling with my older brother, I was exhausted while he had seemingly boundless energy. “One…two…three!“ He called out in triumph after releasing me from the pin. Rolling over, I panted, trying not to throw up from the various jabs to my gut that had eventually been my downfall. I only ate so many burritos thinking I would win. "Oh this rocks,” He gloated, the biggest grin on his face as he sat on his heels over me while I recovered, “Now, are you really going to honor our bet?”

I wheezed, looking up at his face, knowing where it would have been had I won. “Yeah….yeah I’ll honor it,” I felt sick knowing what losing meant, what I would have to do. I wanted to say no, but knew that if it were him who had lost I wouldn’t have let him chicken out. It had taken us an hour the day before to modify the bed and mattress. There was now a portion that could be removed from the underside, enough to leave a cavity in which a person could lay down, trapped as part of the mattress with no strange lumps outside. The key bit to the bet though, other than having to be trapped in the mattress, was the hole. Cut a little bit away from the headboard, it was cushioned to bring up someone’s head so their face was above the level of the mattress, the only part of them that was exposed….perfectly aligned with an spare toilet seat we luckily found. Not to mention this hole was exactly where someone would sit if they were sat in bed reading or playing games. I gulped. In theory, making the loser be the winner’s “gaming throne” was a funny abstract thing, but now it was about to become my reality. Oh shit! I stood wide eyed at my brother lifting up, what I had forgot about, the nose hook we also crafted so the stink would go in full force. I was shaking a little, laying down in the mattress cavity as Mark put the other layer of the mattress over me. My head was resting on the pillows, and my face neatly fit the hole. I couldn’t move, I was part of the mattress. This was going to be my prison for the next three days. “You know,” I laughed nervously, “I ate three bean burritos this morning, thinking this would be the other way around.” Mark just smiled as he fastened the hooks into my nostrils, turned around, and lowered his shorts. Smirking down at me, he said “I did the same. Plus a bowl full of broccoli. And you’ve got no idea how much I’m going to enjoy this.” And with that, he rolled his bare, sweaty, hairy ass over my face, making sure to line my nose up with his hole, and immediately he filled my nostrils with a silent but deadly fart. In accordance with our bet, I had no choice but to sniff it all up. “Fuck, this weekend’s gonna rock!” He laughed, picking up the game controller and signing into voice chat with his friends, none of them having any idea he had a new gaming throne. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I could barely breathe. The only thing I could do was sniff his hole, and suck in any farts he had for me. This is what my life will be for the next couple hours: a fart sniffing video game throne for my older brother.

280 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 7 months

Text

3K notes · View notes

majorbombs · 9 months

Text

Nuclear Nathan - Limited time option 2 (Right man)

Nathan had a reputation for being one of the cruelest doms around, but that didn't stop you seeking him out. You have been extremely stresses with work lately and needed something to take your mind of things. Nathan would be that thing.

You now lay on his dirty mattress, restrained, looking up at the marvellous bubble butt of Nathan as he smirked over his shoulder at your anxious face. Then it happened. Nathan quickly fell to his knees, dropping his massive ass onto your face at a high speed. The massive dom moans above you as he feels your face enter his ass immediately. Just as you begin to recover from the earth-shattering butt drop, a toxic smell is picked up by your nostrils. Nathan just released his signature 'Nathan Nuke'. It was the one constant that all his victims spoke of. A 30 second long thunderous fart that had a deep manly smell, perfectly timed to capitalise off the fact he butt bombed the air out of you already. As you had no choice but to inhale the entire 30 seconds, you began to harden, only getting hornier once you realised that you were sinking deeper in, approaching the source. "Ah.ah.ah, you need to stay put, baby boy." Nathan moans as he sees you flailing for fresh air just as the fart hits the 30-second mark. You already need fresh air as your lungs are burning from the Nathan Nuke. You continue to lay on the mattress, smothering in the deep musky crack of Nathan as you breathe lightly against his hairy hole. "Oh...yeah...take that gas boy, sniff it all up and get rewarded!" Natham moans like a horny demon as he begins a 10 minute farting rampage after simpky sitting and smothering you for the last 15 minutes. While no fart came close to the Nathan nukes' length, they all smelt just as bad. To make matters worse, his large face shaking blasts blew the air out of your lungs to keep you breathing his hissing farts which burned more. Once again, you had no choice but to unhale as Nathans doughy ass cheeks easily held your head in place. Another advantage of his thick cheeks was thatball the gas he unleahed would stay lingering in the prison of ass you currently were victim to. Finally, his gassy hole came to a standstill, and he slighly leaned forward to relax more as he left your face smothering in the gas chamber that was his ass. This went on for a few more minutes before you made a fatal error. "No..no..NOOO!!" Nathan roared as he felt you worming slightly out of his cheeks for fresh air. He stands up to your surprise, looking down on you with anger in his eyes. "I said sniff it all up boy, no you will be punished." You don't even get a chance to take more than one breathe before he once again falls full force onto you. This time, he pushed all his weight down until he felt your nose penetrate his gassy hole. While your eyes widen with terror at the thought of what's going to happen, Nathan's light up with glee. He let's out multiple silent blasts, all of which hit your nostrils point blank. You inhaled deeply as you would down pass out without constant air. Unfortunately, your nose, being so far in Nathan's anus enhanced the smell to be deep, warm, and shitty. It was embarrassing and cruel, but it made you harder than ever. "No you don't get to cum boy, only good boys get to cum while under me." Nathan roars as he grabs your balls and squeezes until your cock begins to soften due to the pain. "Now tongue out or I squeeze harder!" Nathan laughs as he slides his hole over your mouth, completely uncaring to you being near black out. Defeated, you stick your tongue deep into his shitty farting hole and pass out as he remains on top, riding your limp tongue like a dildo. Atleast you didn't think about work the entire time right?

123 notes · View notes

majorbombs · 10 months

Text

If I gotta go out, I want it to be in the Gas Chamber 🥵

Smell of the undefeated

I can’t believe my boyfriend’s about to fight in an underground wrestling league. My boyfriend, David, has never wrestled in his life but is a huge fan of pro-wrestling. All David has going for him is that he’s fit.

We’re in a ring, located in the center of a supposedly abandoned warehouse, with hundreds of people in the stands surrounding us.

The reason this is held in a fake abandoned warehouse is because this league is illegal. Bets are openly taken for every match and a wrestler killing their opponent is fine. The staff will take care of the body after the match. And unfortunately we learned that David will be taking on the champion, and he’s known for killing rookies like David.

I’m standing on the outside of the ropes, next to David, who’s posted in the corner, resting against the turnbuckles with a cocky smirk.

“David, I don’t like the sound of this champion. They say he’s undefeated. Just quit now and let’s get outta here.” I plead to David.

David laughs, “Haha, relax Dylan, I got this. I’ve heard this guy’s a bottom-heavy bruiser. I’ll run circles around him, tire him out, and have him pinned in the next 5 minutes. I’m gonna be the next champion with you in my corner.” David boasts. Nice words but I still have a bad feeling.

Suddenly, music starts playing and the announcer’s voice fills the warehouse. “Ladies and gentlemen, for tonight’s main event we have the debut of our newest wrestler, David Quick.” David holds up his arms, smirking at the crowd, but he’s mostly getting booed.

“And here comes your undefeated champion. The toxic tormentor, the skunky sadist. NASH CHAMBER!”

The crowd goes wild and my eyes widen, as a 6’3 behemoth swaggers towards the ring. He’s wearing a gray, skin-tight wrestling singlet that shows off his Hulk-like muscles. Compared to him, David looks like a malnourished boy.

Chamber steps into the ring and holds up his arms as the crowd cheers wildly for him. As he does a small little circle, me and David’s jaws drop. From behind we see his enormous bubble butt. His singlet looks like it’s being stretched to their limit in containing Nash’s watermelon-sized butt cheeks.

David shakes his head, getting back into the game, and starts bouncing from foot-to-foot, warming up.

Once Chamber is done hyping up the crowd the two face off in the center of the ring. David holds up his fists looking determined. While Chamber stands with his hands on his hips, sporting a cocky grin.

The starting bell rings and David punches Chamber right in the chest. Chamber doesn’t even flinch, just keeps smiling. The crowd laughs at David’s weak punch, and I see David turning red with anger.

“David, keep your cool!” I yell, but he isn’t listening.

David dashes behind Chamber and cocks back his fist. That’s when I notice Chamber scrunching up his face.

Before David can punch Chamber in the back of the head…

BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

Holy shit, Chamber just ripped a 10 second, thunderous fart that’s louder than the cheering crowd of hundreds. David is immediately stepping backwards, covering his nose with his hands and coughing.

I should hate seeing my boyfriend suffer but that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I have a secret farting kink and I’ve never seen someone fart like that. Chamber looks over at me and gives me a sly smirk and a wink.

The announcer then comments, “Oh, Quick made the worst rookie mistake you can make. Never step in the blast zone of CHAMBER’S NOXIOUS BUTT-CANNON!” His shouts, making the crowd cheer even harder.

Chamber turns around and grabs David by the arm. He then throws him towards the ropes. David bounces off the ropes and is heading back to Chamber. Chamber turns around and jumps. David runs face-first into Chamber’s blubbery, aerial mounds. As soon as they make contact…

FFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHPPPPDDDDDD

Chamber actually clotheslines David with his gassy ass, knocking him to the ground.

David’s on his back, groaning. Chamber looks down at David, over his shoulder, with a mischievous grin. He then starts smacking his ass with both hands, making his meaty melons wobble.

The crowd then start screaming, “Geronimo, Geronimo, Geronimo”

“Uh-oh, I hope the rookie brought his umbrella because it looks like it’s about to start raining fat, farting asses!” The announcer calls.

Chambers pulls his legs out from beneath himself, and lets his bulbous backside crash onto David’s face. I wince at the sound of the impact. David weakly tries to push Chamber off of his face, but all he’s really doing is sinking his fingertips into Chamber’s quicksand-like ass fat.

Chamber curls his hands into fists, grits his teeth, and starts straining. PPPFFFFTTTT

Chamber rips a short but loud, warehouse-echoing poot in David’s face.

Chamber lifts his titanic rump a foot above David’s face, revealing it. David’s red-faced with teary eyes, and having a coughing fit.

Not even a second later, Chamber slams his big butt back on David’s face and poots again. He keeps doing this again and again on David’s face.

Up, Slam… RRRHHHHPPPP

Up, Slam… FFFFFDDDDBBB

Up, Slam… PPPVVVRRRRR

Up, Slam… BBBBWWWWFFF

Chamber does this for several minutes straight; demolishing my boyfriend’s face with his weaponized booty.

My boyfriend is getting destroyed by this farting monster and I’m more turned on than worried for his safety. Man, I’m an awful person.

Chamber finally stands up. With a cocky smirk, he reaches down, grabs David by the hair, and pulls him onto his knees. David looks miserable and defeated.

Chamber keeps his grip on David’s hair as he points to the turnbuckle. The crowd starts chanting, “Stinkface, Stinkface, Stinkface.”

Chamber drags David to the corner of the ring and lays him down so the back of David’s head is lying against the bottom turnbuckle.

Chamber then turns around, and then squats down, aligning his ass with David’s face. Holy shit, I remember watching pro-wrestling when I was younger, and seeing the superstar Rickishi doing this to his opponents.

“Oh yes ladies and gentlemen, here comes Chamber’s tried and true Stinkface. Let’s hope Quick has a sweet tooth because his face is about to be in a whole lot of cake.” The announcer jokes.

And with that, Chamber thrusts his hips back, smothering David’s face with his mountainous mounds of ass fat.

Chamber immediately starts wiping his bubbly ass from left to right, and up and down, all over David’s face.

Chamber’s eyes find me again and he gives me a wink and this time accompanies it with an air kiss. Fuck, this guy’s humiliating my boyfriend, he shouldn’t be turning me on.

Still wearing a cocky smirk, Chamber narrows his eyes in concentration before he starts lighting David’s face up with farts as he continues to Stinkface him.

PPPPPPFFFFFHHHHHHPPPPPP-FFFFFFFFWWWWWWWBBBBBBBDDDDDDD-RRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLOOOOOOPPPPPPPP-BBBBBBBBRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKTTTTTTTTTTTT

Chamber unleashes a barrage of monstrous farts that can be heard over the crowd’s laughing and cheering.

After five minutes, Chamber finally gets off of David’s face. He throws both hands in the air, making the crowd cheer even harder for him. David looks half-dead, still resting against the bottom turnbuckle, barely moving.

Chamber pulls down the shoulder straps of his wrestling singlet, revealing his ripped upper body. He yells to the crowd, “Has he had enough?” before cupping a hand next to his ear, interacting with his fans.

“NO” the crowd cries. Then they start chanting, “Gas Him, Gas Him, Gas Him.”

With a wicked grin, Chamber gives a shrug. “Oh well, the people have spoken.” Chamber proceeds to pull his singlet completely off, now standing in the ring in only a gray jockstrap.

I’m both hard and scared as Chamber’s meaty moons pour out of their confines and bounce freely in the open. In big black letters, Chamber has a word tattooed on each butt cheek.

‘GAS’ is tattooed on his left buttcheek and ‘CHAMBER’ is tattooed on the right one.

Chamber cups his hands beneath both cheeks and starts jiggling them, making the crowd go wild.

“Uh-oh, it looks like the rookie’s headed straight for the Gas Chamber. Guess this is it for Quick. When the champ shoves someone into the Gas Chamber, they never come out alive.” The announcer explains.

Chamber walks back over to David and grabs him by the hair again. He drags David back to the center of the ring, on his knees.

David looks like a train wreck and is begging for mercy, but Chamber just ignores him. Chamber turns around, putting his bulbous, tattooed butt in David’s face.

With Chamber’s free hand, he reaches back and spreads open his globes before unceremoniously shoving David’s face into his toxic trench of an ass crack.

David’s face rapidly sinks into Chamber’s deep, voracious ass. Chamber’s pushy hand and swiveling hips work in tandem to bury David even deeper into the Gas Chamber.

Finally, Chamber lets go of his buttcheek. Chamber’s thick globes wrap around David’s head and make contact with each other. I’m horny/horrified by David’s entire head being completely entombed in Chamber’s gargantuan rump, with the words ‘Gas’ and ‘Chamber’ side-by-side.

“Quick’s locked up in the Gas Chamber and the champ looks like he’s raring to go. The longest someone’s survived in the Gas Chamber is three minutes. Let’s hope this lousy rookie can at least set a new record.” the announcer comments.

Chamber bends his knees slightly, and curls his hands into fists. He then closes his eyes and grits his teeth, and then starts grunting and straining.

BBBBBBRRRRRRFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

PPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBB

DDDDDDDDMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRR

FFFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDMMMMMMMM

RRRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB

Chamber is a machine. He keeps ripping monstrous farts that last from 10-15 seconds, pointblank in David’s face. Even with the cheering crowd and David’s face in front of his asshole, Chamber’s farts can still be heard all around the warehouse.

David was already weak in the beginning but his flailing limbs are looking weaker by the second. I try for Chamber’s attention before it’s too late.

“Wait, please stop!” I cry.

Chamber opens his eyes and looks at me. A cocky smirk forms on his face but his farting has paused for the moment.

“Oh, looks like Quick’s boyfriend is trying to plead to Chamber to spare him.” The announcer observes.

Chamber flexes his glutes, trapping David’s head as he walks up to me, dragging a crawling David behind him.

“Please let him go, he’s already lost.” I beg when Chamber is standing in front of me.

“Sorry bud, but when I put someone in the Gas Chamber, they’re done with their living. Why should I make an exception for this loser?” Chamber asks with a smarmy grin.

“Please don’t, I-I’ll give you anything.”

“Hmm, anything you say? Well for me to even consider letting this loser live, I’m gonna need an incentive. How about a kiss on the lips and then we’ll talk?” Chamber suggests shocking me into silence.

To get the ball rolling again, Chamber closes one eye and grunts, ripping a squeaky fart in David’s face. “Ah, you better hurry before your chump suffocates in the Gas Chamber.”

I surge forward and plant my lips on his, kissing him. Wolf-whistling and cat calls erupt from the crowd.

I pull my lips from his, blushing. I can’t deny that, that was an amazing kiss.

“Alright then, here’s the deal: to get him out you’re gonna have to take his place in the Gas Chamber.” Chamber says, making me choke on my spit.

“But not now. You’re gonna wait around, out here, after this match and everyone leaves. I’m gonna come back out into this ring and you’re gonna willingly bury your face in my Gas Chamber. Agree to this and I’ll let your loser-of-a-boyfriend live.”

I’m blindsided, not knowing what to say.

“Do we have a deal? Or am I sending this loser to the afterlife?” Chamber cocks his left leg and rips a greasy fart, further torturing my Gas Chambered boyfriend.

I audibly swallow, nervous about this arrangement. I nod my head and say, “Yes”.

“Great, let’s get your boy-toy out of my Gas Chamber, shall we?” Chamber reaches back with both hands and spreads open his bubbly cheeks, revealing the back of David’s head. Chamber grits his teeth, scrunches up his face, and starts grunting and straining.

BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

A roaring, thunderous fart, that has the entire ring quaking, explodes out of Chamber’s ass. David’s launched out of the Gas Chamber, and lands on the ring floor, on his back, dry-heaving.

The crowd starts booing and the announcer voices his annoyance.

“What the hell is this? Why is our champion letting someone out of the Gas Chamber alive? It looks like Chamber is going soft.” The announcer complains.

Chamber narrows his eyes and glares murderously at the announcer who’s standing just outside of the ring, with a microphone, looking towards the crowd. Chamber stomps toward him. I can’t help but stare as the mounds of his Gas Chamber bounce and clap against each other with every step.

Chamber reaches through the ropes, grabs the screaming announcer by the hair, and pulls him into the ring. Chamber forces the announcer to his knees and takes the microphone away from him.

“So ya’ll won’t be happy unless I leave a corpse in the ring, huh? Then so be it.” Chamber addresses the crowd and then looks down at the announcer with a devilish grin. “And since you agree with them, I’m sure these last few minutes of your life will put a smile on your face. Into the Gas Chamber with you.”

Chamber wheels around, putting his fat, tattooed globes right in the frightened announcer’s face. Chamber reaches back, spreading his cheeks with his free hand. He then carelessly pulls the screaming man’s face into the Gas Chamber.

I watch as another victim’s entire head is consumed by Chamber’s enormous ass.

The crowd’s cheering again and starts chanting, “Gas Him, Gas Him, Gas Him”

Chamber widens his stance, curls his hands into fists, and grits his teeth.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

An ungodly fart roars out of Chamber’s ass and into the announcer’s face for 5 minutes straight. This behemoth-of-a-fart doesn’t seem humanly possible. Me and others nearby have to cover our ears from how loud it is. And as I look around I see a slightly brown tint in the air.

2 minutes into the monstrous fart, and I see the announcer’s struggling body go limp, but that doesn’t stop Chamber.

Once this massive leviathan-of-a-fart comes to an end, Chamber pulls the guy out of the Gas Chamber and lets his body fall to the ground.

Another announcer runs out from the back and slides into the ring. He takes the microphone and lifts Chamber’s hand into the air. “And here is your undefeated champion: NASH CHAMBER!”

And the crowd goes wild for him. Chamber swaggers up to me with a cocky grin. “Don’t forget the deal.” He reminds me.

“I-I won’t” I reply. Chamber gives me another wink and heads backstage. People come out to help David and deal with the announcer’s body. As the rest of the crowd leaves, I wait just outside the ring.

I’ve been pacing for the last 15 minutes when David comes out from backstage. I smile as I try to give him a hug, but he steps back, out of reach.

“I’m sorry Dylan but we’re over. And I’m leaving the city. Nash ordered me to do this or he’d put me back in the Gas Chamber. And this time no one would be able to save me.” With that David just leaves.

I feel empty as I watch him leave. This monster cost me my boyfriend and now he’s about to destroy me. The only silver lining is that he’s gonna fart in my face.

A few minutes later, the place is eerily deserted, and Chamber comes back out from backstage. He’s still only wearing a gray jockstrap

As we both get into the ring, Chamber starts to speak. “You know, wrestling as long as I have, you learn to read people both inside and outside the ring. The moment my eyes landed on you I knew what you were. Heh, when I first farted in my match, you were blushing like an untouched virgin.”

It’s frightening how perceptive he is.

“I immediately knew that I had to make you mine. That loser Quick doesn’t deserve you. No, you deserve to accompany a winner like me to the ring.”

My eyes widen; Chamber is still smirking.

“Tell me you don’t want me to fart on you, tell me you don’t want to stick your face in the Gas Chamber. Tell me and you can go. I won’t stop you.”

I look down at his lips, unable to look him in the eyes. Unable to confess the truth.

A wolfish grin forms on his lips. Chamber walks up to me and then spins around and presses his bare ass against my lower midsection.

PPPPPPRRRRBBBBTTTTT

I feel his warm butt air venting against me. The stench of rotten eggs and broccoli reaches my nose. My breathing is becoming faster.

Chamber looks back at me, over his shoulder, with a knowing grin. “I know a fart-sniffer when I see one. Stop fighting it. Beg me to fart on you. Beg me to put you in the Gas Chamber.”

I can’t do it.

Chamber suddenly grabs me and quickly but gently takes me to the ground. With experienced maneuvering, I find myself in a reverse head-scissor hold. My head’s trapped between his muscular thighs with his tattooed bubble butt right in my face.

He flexes ‘Gas’ and ‘Chamber’, and once he relaxes them…

BBBBBBRRRRRRRHHHHPPPPPPPP

He blasts me with a loud butt bomb that trumpets throughout the warehouse, my face being in its way be damned. His sulfuric, nose hair-singeing fumes are nauseatingly amazing.

After a few moments of no more farts, I glance up, over Chamber’s fleshy hillside-mounds, and see him peering back at me with a cheeky grin.

Why isn’t he farting anymore? Then I remember his words.

I bring my hands up and start running them all over his rotund, fat-coated globes.I love the feel of his butt-blubber pouring through the gaps of my fingers.

With his ass fat nearly covering my mouth, I beg, “Please fart in my face.”

“Aw such manners. Now there’s a good fart-sniffer. Enjoy… NGH”

FFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRAAAAPPPPPPP

A typhoon of hot, sulfuric ass wind flies up my nose and I love it. Chamber tightens his quads around my head, pulling me in and smothering my face against his pillowy yet firm buttcheeks.

Chamber starts swiveling his hips, rubbing his bare bum all over my face while unleashing a category 5 fart storm.

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWPPPPP

“Yeah that’s it. Kiss it!”

RRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBB

“Taste it!”

PPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLL-HHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDD

“Show it the love it deserves!”

RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKPPPPPPPP

“Worship my nasty, unbeatable booty!”

FFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPP

DDDDDDDDDHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAABBBBBBBB

FFFFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM

Spurred on by his words and huffing up all his noxious ass gas, I start peppering his meaty globes with kisses, and licking the sweat trickling from his ass crack.

This is too much, I feel like I’m about to shoot. My body’s starting to shake.

“Whoa-whoa, let’s pump the brakes. We don’t want the fun to end too soon.” Chamber says as he frees me from his head-scissor and rolls me onto my back, before lying his enormous self on top of me, making me groan.

“Here, maybe this’ll cool you down.” He continues with an arched eyebrow.

Chamber lifts up his arm and plants his sweaty armpit on my face. He then starts wiping his armpit from left to right, drenching my face in his musky sweat.

Even though I’m loving this too, it does surprisingly start to cool me down. So caught up, I don’t even realize that I’m licking Chamber’s sweaty pit until he jumps off of me and growls. “You’re fucking insatiable, I can’t take it any more. It’s time to put you in the Gas Chamber.”

Something sounding so foreboding shouldn’t sound so hot.

Chamber stands up and faces away from me. I get onto my knees and come face-to-face with his thick cakes. The words ‘GAS’ and ‘CHAMBER’ are right before my eyes.

Unable to resist, I bring my face towards his ass but he takes a step forward, putting distance between us. “Beg” He growls, huskily.

“Please put me in the Gas Chamber. I’ve never wanted anything more.” I beg.

Chamber reaches back with both hands and spreads open his beefy slabs, revealing his asshole.

I follow his silent command, diving my face in between his imprisoning cheeks; pressing my nose and lips against his asshole.

Chamber lets go of his cheeks, entombing my entire head in his Gas Chamber.

“There you go, nice and trapped in my Gas Chamber, with no way to escape… FGH”

FFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWBBBBBBBB

I take a 9 second, eggy fart, right up the nose. So turned on by his raunchy ass fumes, I start licking his winking, sweaty pucker. Chamber moans above me.

“Oh fuck yeah. Eat my nasty, butt-bombing hole you crazy fucker” RRHHBBRR “Eat this too while you’re at it” BBWWTTDD “Yeah keep that throat open, I’m dropping another air biscuit down your gullet” FFMMOOHT “Fuck yeah, you’re a perfect, willing fart-sniffer” RRFFVVBBB “Gonna get you addicted to my stinky ass gas” PPWWLLAB “Make sure you’re in my bed every night” FFHHTSTSSS “Begging me to lock your face in my Gas Chamber” BBBBRRRRR-MMMMMOOOOO-DDDDTTTTTT

“Damn, you’ve been locked up in the Gas Chamber for 7 minutes and you’re still frenching with my hole like some love-sick teenager. As soon as I trap someone in there, they’re already trying to escape, but not you. Let’s see if this big fella heading your way will fix that. Oh well, it’s not like it really matters. No one escapes the Gas Chamber… NGH”

BBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDTTTTTTTTTTTTTssssssssssssssss

Chamber unleashes another one of his inhumanely loud and long farts, right in my face. I take in deep breaths, torturing my lungs with his digested meat and onion smelling fumes. Even for a fart lover like me, it’s too much and I pass out halfway through. Right after I shoot my load in my boxers.

I groan as I come to. My face repeatedly bumping against something soft yet firm, awakens me. I open my eyes and right in my face is Chamber’s fat ass in a pair of black, form-fitting compression shorts. I’m slung over his shoulder and we’re walking through the deserted parking lot.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?” I ask, groggily.

“Heh, don’t you remember? You’re mine now. We’re heading back to my place. Why don’t you get some more sleep? When you wake up you’ll be in my bed and your handsome mug will be heading back into my Gas Chamber. Deep huffs fart-sniffer.”

Chamber pauses in the middle of the parking lot and hikes up his left leg with my upside-down face in front of his bubble butt.

FFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPP

#fart

336 notes · View notes