atbell92

[atbell92]

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.

[atbell92]

I cough and sputter in my dads gut as cold milk splatters on me from above. Weirdly enough, I’m actually grateful for the cooling liquid splashing over my itching and burning skin. I’ve been in my dads stomach for over an hour and a half, much longer than he’s ever kept me or my brothers for one of his “punishments”.

My older brother Erik got the longest sentence a couple years ago when he’d failed one of his classes at school. He’d been in there for 45 whole minutes before our dad released him. Later he’d told us that Dad’s gut had started churning and squeezing him in a rough, painful way and that after a little bit his skin had started to tingle. He hadn’t gotten anything below a B since then, not wanting to experience even the beginning of our fathers digestion again.

Up until this point, the longest I’ve ever been in here was 15 minutes, and the only thing I’d ever felt was the soft, almost pleasant squeezing of the stomach walls. If it hadn’t been so disgusting and foul smelling in there, I might’ve enjoyed it. But then it wouldn’t have been much of a punishment. Now though Im long past what Erik had felt; he was right about how rough and tight the stomach walls churned about. I feel like every pulse of powerful muscle squeezes me into a tighter and tighter ball, making my bones and joints ache with the pressure. He’d also been right about the tingling, but he hadn’t stayed in dads stomach long enough for it to become the itchy, burning sensation that I’m now feeling.

My eyes and nose sting in the rancid, acidic air. That’s also something none of us have ever experienced; yes it’s always been foul smelling in here the few times dad felt the need to punish me, but it’s never been actually painful to breathe as I inhale each breath of the acidic air. I guess the punishment fits the crime though, I mean I got drunk and crashed my car into a tree, which is probably the worst thing any of us boys have done over the years, so it makes sense that dad leaves me in here for way longer than he’s ever done before.

I feel my prison jostle a bit as my dad sits down in his creaky recliner chair and flips on the tv, turning up the volumes extra loud so he can hear it over his loudly churning belly. I’ve got no doubt that my brothers are probably sitting there on the couch, eyeing Dad’s stomach and glancing at the clock watching the seconds tick by and probably thinking about how long I’ve been in here too. It’s going on an hour and 45 minutes now.

I just grit my teeth as the burning starts to go from unpleasant to downright painful. Fuck he must be really mad this time, I mean he’s actually letting his gut start to digest me! *Just a little longer* I tell myself, trying to shut out the pain, and waiting for the familiar feeling of the stomach forcing me back up my father’s throat.

“Umm dad?” I hear one of my younger brothers say hesitantly. “Ty’s been in there a reeeally long time… I think he’s really sorry now and he’s learned his lesson. You know he won’t do it again.”

My father just grunts and I feel a hand rubbing over the bulges I’m making. “Yer damn right he’s never going to do it again… because he’s not coming back out again.” He says gruffly, as my brothers stare wide eyed. “This is a lesson for the rest of you boys that your old man’s more than willing to leave you to stew in this gut of mine if you fuck up badly enough.”

No… No I must’ve heard him wrong. Did he really just say he’s gonna leave me in here?? I start to struggle, calling out to my dad. “Please dad, no!! I’m sorry I’ll never do it again, please just don’t leave me in here!!”

“Sorry Ty, but you fucked up and now you have to face the consequences, maybe your brothers will learn from your mistake and I won’t have to digest any more of my boys.” He says giving me a pat.

“Nononono!!!” I continue to scream and thrash as my dads gut began to churn and gurgle even more loudly. My skin feels like it’s on fire and the walls around me squeeze me so tight that it’s like I’m trapped in a rancid, slimy trash compactor. I begin to sob and beg, but my dad is ignoring me now. He belches instead of replying and the last of my foul, acidic air is snatched away from me, rushing back up my dads throat and leaving me behind to stew in the dark, stinking, churning pit of my father’s stomach.

“Uurrrrp! Shh that’s it son, just sleep and let daddy’s belly take care of you” is the last thing I hear from Dad before I finally gave in and pass out while his stomach churns and gurgles contently around me, happy to finally be claiming one of the meals that has escaped its grasp so many times.

[atbell92]

Mack wished his son had listened to him, really he did. “Trust me, you won’t like it” he’d warned the boy, “It’s not at all like you’re imagining” he’d said again and again each time his son had asked. And what should’ve been the biggest deterrent of all: “It’s a one way trip, once you’re in my tank you’re not coming out again.” He’d say in a very serious voice, “You’ll be digested in there like any other food, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant process.”

Still, the foolish boy hadn’t been daunted. He continued to beg his dad at every opportunity, going on and on about how he wanted to end up inside his pop’s big hairy belly, and how he loved the idea that he’d be adding to his father’s waistline. Damn, the kid was acting like it was a ride at fucking Disney land instead of his dad swallowing and digesting him. No matter how many times Mack told his son exactly what would happen if he swallowed him alive, the boy just wouldn’t listen, claiming over and over that he was totally fine with what would happen to him once inside his father’s hungry gut. Finally, on the night of his 18th birthday, and with the assistance of a fair amount of alcohol, Mack relented.

Half an hour later, Mack looked down, shaking his head sadly at his massive gut as it bulged and shook with his son’s attempts at struggling within. He could clearly make out his boy’s cries, telling him he’d changed his mind and begging his father to let him out. Stupid, stupid kid… Mack had warned him so many times that it wouldn’t be anything like he’d imagined in all his strange fantasies. No doubt the boy had expected a pleasant, warm slide into a nice stretchy stomach, where the walls were pillowy and soft and they hugged him lightly while he drifted off to sleep. The reality, which Mack had tried to explain to him, was much harsher. The poor boy really had no idea what he was in for when he’d begged his father to eat him. Mack could tell right away that he’d been shocked by the sweltering heat of his dad’s insides as he started to swallow him, shifting a bit uncomfortably in his tight throat, and the boy definitely hadn’t been prepared to be stuffed into his foul smelling, churning gut, which did stretch, but only enough to accommodate the kid, and even then just barely. The muscles of Mack’s stomach walls were far from soft as they squeezed him tightly in a painfully crushing and almost suffocating embrace while the acrid air stung his eyes and burned his nose and lungs with each breath. All the while the slick liquid that had been spreading over his body as his father’s gut churned over him was beginning to cause his skin to itch and burn.

Mack knew the exact moment his boy was experiencing all of this and came to the conclusion that his father was indeed right, that this crushing, acidic, disgusting chamber wasn’t anything like he’d imagined. It was, as his dad had said, a hellish and a terrifying place to spend your last moments. That’s when the boy had started to squirm and shout for his dad to let him out, at first in a sort of “Hey dad, I guess I don’t like this after all” kind of voice, fully expecting Mack to release him and to receive a stern lecture about listening to his dad’s warnings. It was only when his father had informed him that, no, he wouldn’t be coming back out and that he’d be digested just like he’d warned him, that the boy really started to panic.

Mack watched his gut bounce and shake as his son thrashed and begged for release inside the fleshy prison. No doubt his powerful stomach was already starting to work on him, the muscular clenches of his stomach walls becoming rougher and more powerful, and the itching sensation most likely at the point where it transitioned to a painful burning sensation as his acids did their job. He sighed, rubbing over his bulging belly as his son’s cries became more desperate and his struggles intensified and became frantic, and decided to take pity on the foolish kid. No, he wouldn’t be letting him out though, his son’s fate had been sealed the moment his head had slipped past his father’s lips, Mack’s gut had claimed the boy and he was just a meal now, family or not. Mack would however, give his son a small bit of mercy; Usually he’d enjoy his meal’s struggles for as long as they lasted, but it was his own son in his gut this time. Yes, he’d be digested just like anything else he put in his belly, but Mack didn’t like the idea of his boy suffering unnecessarily, so he pressed his hands the squirming, fleshy dome of his gut and pressed down. He felt all the air he’d swallowed down with his son rush back up his throat and erupt from his mouth in a massive, and very satisfied, belch. “Uuuuuuurrrrrrp!”

Moments later, all was still within his gut. It was far from quiet though as it gurgles and churned loudly over the motionless form of his kid. Mack laid back, one hand idly rubbing over his gurgling belly as he let out another soft belch that tasted slightly of his son turned meal. Mack slept soundly through the night as his stomach did its job, the bulges the boy made becoming less defined, rounding out, and his massive hairy belly slowly shrinking as the hours passed and his son was efficiently digested.

[atbell92]

*BWAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRP!*

Chris froze outside his bedroom door as he heard the deep, guttural belch echo down the hall. He walked cautiously along the carpet, hearing muttered grumbling and another, more gurgly stifled burp. Poking his head into the living room, he saw his father reclining comfortably on the couch in his boxers and gently rubbing the round hairy ball of his gut.

“Dad?” he said hesitantly, entering the room.

Hank hiccuped, slapping his squirming belly roughly as a particular noisy gurgle rumbled up from within. “Wha-*UUUURRRRP!* What is it, son?”

Chris moved closer, staring as the visible struggles beneath the bloated globe of his dad’s musclegut started to weaken, the muffled protests of its occupant fading fast. “You...you really did it. You ate Jesse.”

Hank scratched his chest, looking unphased by Chris’s shock. “Your brother made it clear he had no interest in going to college. I made it clear that we’d already paid, and if he was gonna waste that much money, he was gonna *be* waste.” He thumped one of his meaty pecs, letting out another wet belch, putting an abrupt end to Jesse’s movements inside him. “Didn’t seem to believe me.”

Chris stared in morbid fascination, reaching out hesitantly and starting to rub his father’s warm gut. “I can feel him in there,” he murmured, his cheeks heating up. “He’s...he’s not moving.”

Hank shrugged, sitting back to enjoy the tummy rubs. “More belly than boy at this point,” he said, smirking as Chris gingerly prodded his hairy navel.

“You think he’ll end up all belly?” Chris asked, sincerely curious. He slid his hand upward, groping his dad’s chest. “Maybe some will go here?”

Hank nodded, letting out a soft noise of appreciation at the massage. “Maybe,” he said. His voice was growing more strained. With pleasure from his meal, perhaps, or even from arousal. Or, Chris realized as he looked up into his father’s eyes, maybe from hunger...

Chris knew he could stop now, if he didn’t want to risk anything. He hadn’t done anything to piss his dad off like his little brother had. He could easily avoid following Jesse down his dad’s slimy gullet and into that hairy belly. The question was...did he want to avoid it?.....

[atbell92]

Me please

Who's first in line to be my seat?

#me

[atbell92]

The Limits

You and Jason had been friends for a while. At this point he knew you were gay, and although he was straight he was more than fine with it. Jason always joked around with you, grabbing you, whispering sexual things in your ear and just overall being close to you. But you knew he was straight, and you respected it. It didn’t help that he was sexy as fuck though. He had a lean body, but he was packed with muscles. All clearly defined, and he had a more than decently sized ass.

Today you were hanging out with him like any other day when out of the corner of your eye you saw him doing something strange. “What are you doing,” you asked looking up sharply at Jason. He had pulled down his shorts revealing his asscrack and jock. You ogled at his ass. You wanted to taste it, lick it clean for him.

“What, you don’t like what you’re looking at,” he replied smugly. You scoffed and looked in another direction.

“Bro just put it away,” you remarked quickly. Trying to end the temptation of seeing his glorious ass.

“Actually I got it out for a reason,” he said, “I want you to smell my farts.”

“What the hell no dude.” You said. Trying to stifle the fact that you were wildly aroused. You glanced up again at his ass, from where you were sitting on your couch, and your mouth started to water.

“Oh come on man. I need to know what they smell like up close in personal,” he said sounding slightly bummed.

“Ok, and what makes you think I want to get up close and personal with that shit Shute?” You replied trying your best to sound annoyed.

“I don’t know. You’re gay,” he said defensively, “Don’t gay men like love man scent.”

You scoffed again, and thought about it. Knowing this would probably be the only chance you ever got to smell his ass.

“Come on man I’m about to let loose.” You hear from the desk in front of you.

This made your dick throb.

“Uhh, fine, but don’t think it’s because I want to,” you said trying to sound upset.

“Awesome,” Jason muttered. He stood up and walked over to you shuffling in a comedic sort of way while smiling down at you. You barely noticed, because you were too busy lusting over him. His shorts fell to the floor in front of you and Jason’s bulge sat right in front of your face. You could tell it was still flaccid, but damn was it impressive. You stared at it and licked your lips.

“Don’t get so excited man. We’re only here for my farts.”

“Yeah of course. I know that.”

“Okay, cause you look like your about to rip my dick off and eat it like a snack.”

“Haha, no.” You chuckled nervously back at him. His comment brought you out of your trance, and back into reality.

“So how should we do this,” he said.

“Turn around,” you replied ready to get this beautiful, yet embarrassingly painful experience over with.

“Ok demanding,” he chuckled as he turned around and bent his knees a little. His cheeks bounced a little, and then settled. You could already smell a faint musk, and you couldn’t wait to smell more.

“Umm, grab your cheeks, and just spread them open,” you said awkwardly.

He followed your orders and spread open his cheeks with his hands. It was a gorgeous sight, his pink hole was tight and surrounded by a light patch of hair, and now that it was open the manly musk of his ass radiated towards your face.

“I guess I’ll just put my nose on your hole,” you said questioning how to do this.

“Sounds good to me!” With that you placed your nose in his hole. This caused a long sensual moan to burst from Jason’s lips.

“Wow! I didnt know that would feel so good,” Joe said nervously. You had never heard this tone in his voice, and you knew him for years. What was happening. You pushed your nose a little deeper in his ass, and you heard hold back another moan.

“Ok, I guess I’ll just open the gates of hell.”

PPPpPppHhhHrRrRrRBbBtTt

Jason was not kidding. His fart was by far the worst thing you had ever smelled. It las 7 seconds, and left a coughing mess. While you were coughing Jason moaned at the pleasure of releasing the fart, as well as your accepting nose in his hole.

You began to pull away, but Jason told you to get back in his ass. You sat there for a moment thinking. Until he turned around. Looking at you intensely.

“Get your face back in my ass, and sniff my farts!” After he said this you obliged. The small break gave you time to get yourself together, and you began to sniff the remnants of the past fart. Your dick was throbbing at this point.

BbBbBRRrRpPtT

He let out another fart. This one lasting just 3 seconds was somewhat sexier since you weren’t choking on the air. The disgusting cheese stench that shot out of his ass was intoxicating, and you found yourself smelling his ass even after it was over. After a couple of moments in silence Jason pushes your head deeper into his ass, and another blast protruded from his ass smelling cheesier and more rotten than the last one. You began to pre cum.

“Bro, do you like that shit,” Jason asked.

“Uhh no,” you said worriedly.

“You know. That was kind of hot, and I’m not trying to mess with you man.”

“It was,” you asked curious if he was telling the truth.

“Fuck yeah dude. The feeling of your face being completely dominated by my ass, as I just pass gas into your defenseless nose... holy shit!”

“I thought it was hot too,” you replied anxiously.

“Bro eat my ass, for real,” he retaliated.

Without another word you plunged your face deep into his ass and began to lick around his hole. Tasting the salt from his sweat, and the rotten taste of his leftover fart. He let go of his fat ass cheeks, which he’d been holding onto the entire time, and began to jerk off. His fat mounds of ass. Crashed into your face. Locking you into his stink

“Ohh yeahh,” Jason moaned.

FFfrRrRPpbBTtTt

He let a sour tasting 5 second long fart out on your tongue. It tasted putrid, but you wanted more. You licked more furiously now. Piercing his hole with your tongue. Tasting his insides.

After some time you felt Jasons ass tighten around your face. Crushing you between the two glorious ass cheeks. He began to cum it shot out of him, and littered the floor. You heard it splatter.

“Oh, but I’m not done with you,” he whispered sensually.

PpPpPhHhHhRrrRrRbBBBbtTtT

Jason released a 10 second long fart that shook your whole world. Literally, it gave you a migraine due to the jiggling of his fat echoing off your skull, as well as the unholy smell that escaped his ass.

“Ahhh. I’m done,” he said as he pulled your head from his ass. You looked up at him to see him smiling down at you.

“So how’d they smell?”

[atbell92]

DADDY’S BOY IN DENVER UPDATE

https://banging-the-boy.tumblr.com/archive

[atbell92]

Smell of hired company

I’m utterly exhausted as I enter my house and undo my tie. Its great money being one of the top executives of a corporation but it comes with a lot of stress. To unwind I decide to send a text to Russell and see if he’s available.

Russell is a guy I met in a bar over a year ago. He’s built like a tank and has a huge ass to match. That’s what drew me to him right off the bat. We got the talking and I hinted that I had a fart fetish. In turn he told me that he was always gassy and for the right price he’d give me more farts than I could handle for the rest of the night. Since then I’ve hired his ‘services’ multiple times a week.

Me: Hey are you available tonight?

Russell: Sure am, what are you in the mood for?

ME: Rough and mean

Russell: Be there in 20 minutes fart-slut

My cock stiffens in my slacks from his last text.

19 minutes later I hear someone knocking loudly on my front door. I open the door to see Russell in a tight peach shirt and a tight pair of blue jeans. However, Russell is turned around, leaning slightly forward, and sticking his ass out towards me. I immediately fall to my knees and press my face against his bulbous, jean–covered ass. I’ve never been happier that my nearest neighbor is a mile away.

Ppppphhhhbbbbttttt

Russell rips a 5 second, trumpeting fart right in my face. The stench of rotten onions and garbage has me cringing. The smell is both sickening as it is intoxicating.

“I think you should show my ass some appreciation for the gift it just blessed you with fart-slut”

I pull my face back and place a kiss on each of his plump ass cheeks.

“Thank you s…mmmm”

I’m cut off when Russell grabs the back of my head and mashes my face against his big ass.

“Shut up, the only sound that should be coming from your mouth is the echoing sound of my farts traveling down your gullet. Now do your duty and chew on this fart-slut… NGH”

BBBBRRRROOOOPPPPPTTTTTT

A 10 second, meaty fart rumbles out of Russell’s thick ass and into my open mouth. The taste and smell of rotten eggs and garlic has me nearly dry heaving. Russell sighs in relief as he begins to rub his ass over my face, grinding his stench in. Once he has me thoroughly marked, he turns around and looks down at me with a stern expression.

“Now let’s head inside fart-slut.” Russell says as he starts to undo his pants in the front door. He only works them down until they’re under his ass, and it’s a bit of a struggle. He has to shimmy some to free his bubbly globes from the confines of his jeans. Once that’s done he informs me of what’s about to happen next.

“Now I’m going to watch the game and you’re going to be a good little fart filter and ensure that I don’t get a single whiff of my butt fumes. I’m going to rip some major ass on the way to the couch, so make sure to crawl behind me with your face in my ass, fart-slut”

Russell takes a few steps inside and I turn around, still on my knees, and nestle my nose in between his plump bare ass cheeks. My nose is immediately met with his potent ass musk. Russell slowly strolls through my house as I quickly crawl behind him. With every other step, he makes sure to rip a poot up my eagerly awaiting nose.

Bbrrpp, fffhhbbb, pppwwfff, rrrppttt, fffmmppp, ppprrrbbb

I’m so invested in sniffing Russell’s gas that I accidently wedge my face deeper into his ass when he comes to a stop. When I finally stop I feel his asshole grazing the tip of my nose. Russell immediately reacts and grabs the back of my head, keeping my face in place. I then hear him grunting above me.

PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVVMMMBBBBBBBB

Russell unleashes a 10 second, beastly fart, point blank in my face and it has me gagging and my eyes watering. Russell grabs me by the hair and pulls my face out of his ass. My face is a complete mess but he couldn’t care less.

“Get on the couch and assume your position” Russell commands me as he gestures towards the couch. I comply and quickly lie on my back along the couch. I rest my head on the end seat cushion. As I do this Russell takes off his shirt, toes of his shoes, and completely removes his jeans and underwear. I’m in awe of Russell’s muscular bare body, while he pays me no mind.

Russell grabs the television remote from off the coffee table, and slowly starts to walk backwards until his bulbous ass globes are eclipsing the light from above my face. He turns on the TV and then sits the remote on the arm of the couch. He then reaches back with both hands and spreads his thick ass cheeks, gifting me with the view of his puckering asshole. My mouth dries at the sight of his winking flesh surrounded by a patch of hair.  

Russell starts to lower himself onto my face with his familiar musk getting stronger the closer he gets. When his asshole is several inches above my face, he comes to a halt.

“Start licking my asshole fart-slut. And if you do a good job I’ll give you a tasty treat” Russell orders me.

I extended my tongue and run it over his puckered hole. I almost recoil at the bitter taste of his asshole but I endure it. After 30 seconds of licking, I feel his asshole open against the tip of my tongue and…

FFFFFFFFRRRRRRRUUUUUUMMMMBBBBTTTTTT

Russell rips a massive 8 second fart that coats my tongue and floods my open mouth. I’m put into a coughing fit as the rancid stench is vented into my mouth. Russell swiftly silences me as he plants his ass on my face. As the game begins on TV, Russell begins releasing an insane amount of gas.

Fffffrrrrrmmmppp, Ppppvvvvhhhhtttt, Rrrrffffffooobbbbb, Vvvvhhhhffffrrrrr, Bbbbbbmmmmpppffff, Ffffwwwwuuuuppp, Rrrrooowwwwttttt, Pppprrrrrmmmbbb

Over the next hour and a half he rips over 120 farts in my face. His eggy fart stench will probably be the only thing I can smell for the next couple of days. Once the game ends, Russell raises his ass slightly off of my face and peers down at me through his legs. My face is a mess with it covered in his ass sweat. Not to mention his noxious butt fumes probably baked into my skin. At the moment I’m feeling a bit delirious and tears are streaming from my eyes.

“Good job fart-slut, the smell of my farts didn’t reach my nose during the entire game. I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.” Russell tells me with a menacing grin, “As a reward, I’m going to put you out of your misery. Brace for impact fart-slut.”

Russell’s heavy ass drops back down on my face, and I feel the tip of my nose getting lodged in his asshole. Russell then starts to undulate his plump ass over my face, working my nose in deeper. Once my nose is sufficiently deep enough he stops, and then I start to hear him strain.

“NGGH… Nighty-night fart-slut… UGHH”

PPPPPPHHHHHHRRRRRRUUUUMMMMMMBBBBBBFFFFFTTTTTT

A 30 second, mammoth of a fart comes roaring out of Russell’s ass, and has the whole couch quaking. The unholy smell of sulfur and rotten fish flows up my nose and overwhelms me. At the 25 second mark I pass out.

When I wake up, its morning; Russell is gone and so is the 500 dollars I left for him on the table by the front door. It saddens me that Russell is gone but I remind myself that this is just business for him. I get up and take an extra long shower before getting ready for another long workday.

3 stressful days later, I find myself needing to unwind again.

Me: Are you busy?

Russell: Nope, what are you feeling tonight?

Me: Romantic

Russell: I’ll be there in an hour sweetheart. And I’ll stop by that Italian restaurant you love and bring dinner.

My stomach and cock both appreciate his last text. A little over an hour later there’s a knock on my front door. Russell’s on the other side and he’s wearing a pink button up shirt and a pair of black formfitting slacks. He has an aluminum covered pan of lasagna in his hands and is wearing a warm smile.

“Hey sweetie, sorry I’m a little late”

I smile back. “Its fine” I tell him as I take the pan of lasagna out of his hands, “Would you like to eat now while it’s hot?” I ask him

Russell shakes his head, “No, I was hoping we could keep this warm in the oven and have a nice relaxing bath together before we eat.”

That sounds divine so I agree and lead us to the kitchen. I set the oven on a low temperature and place the lasagna inside. When I turn back towards Russell, he’s wearing a playful grin.

“I got you a gift sweetheart and I think now is the perfect time to… unwrap it” Russell says vaguely.

Russell turns around and leans slightly forward, accentuating his bubbly ass cheeks in those tight pants. Russell’s bulbous globes don’t shock me, but the imprint of a teddy bear trapped in the back of his slacks does. Russell looks back at me, over his shoulder, with a grin and brings up a single finger.

“Just a second babe, I’m not quite finished with your gift yet” Russell closes one eye and then grunts.

Ffffffwwwmmmppppp

Russell rips a 6 second fart on the trapped stuffed animal. As he sighs in relief, he starts to undo his pants.

“Ah now it’s ready. Why don’t you reach inside sweetie and get your gift” Russell says as he slowly sways his ass from side to side.

My cock is hard from the recent series of events and I don’t know how much more I can take. I lick my lips and reach into the back of his slacks. The heat in the confines of his pants is sweltering. When my fingers reach the bear, the back of my hand meets Russell’s underwear-clad ass crack. That’s when Russell strikes.

Ppfffbb-ffwwwrrr

Russell releases two poots, one after the other, on the back of my hand. It takes all my willpower not to cum at that very moment. Once I’ve regained my self-control I pull the teddy bear out from the back of his pants. Russell is still looking back at me but now with a lust-filled gaze.

“Sniff it” Russell says quietly. I follow his suggestion and bring the bear up to my face. I take a deep inhale and I start to gag. This bear reeks of rotten eggs and garbage.

Russell straightens up and turns around to face me. He then wraps his burly arms around me and pulls me in until we’re pressed chest to chest. Russell leans in and rubs his nose against the side of my neck as he says, “Don’t worry, before the night is over your bear will stink of my ass for the next couple of weeks. But for now, let’s take a nice relaxing bath” Russell says in a low seductive voice. I agree and Russell takes my hand and leads us to the master bathroom.

Russell starts up the bath and lovingly undresses me. He then undresses himself, letting me admire his fit body and meaty bare ass cheeks.

Once Russell is settled comfortably in the big bathtub, he pulls my smaller body onto his, his muscular chest becoming a personal pillow for the back of my head. Russell brings his head down and nibbles on my earlobe, inciting a moan out of me.

“Would you like me to turn this into a jacuzzi sweetheart?” Russell asks in a low rumbling voice next to my ear. I nod my head.

“You got it darling, just know that things are about to get real smelly in here… UGH”

Rrrhhhffftttt, Pppwwwuubbb, Fffrrrvvvvppp, Bbbpppwwwttt, Pppwwwvvvbbb, Ffffbbbuuuuppp

For the next 30 minutes Russell goes on a farting frenzy. The calm still water of the bath is turned into a tub of bubbling and churning chaos. Bubbles are rising to the surface from the depths of Russell’s bowels and polluting the room with his signature stench. And the hot water is magnifying the smell of his farts by 10. Every few seconds, Russell grunts and a volley of noxious bubbles arises and taints the air.

After 30 minutes our fingers start to wrinkle so we decide to get out. Russell gets out first and before helping me; he pivots around and extends his ass into my face. He then looks back at me with a sweet smile.

“Why don’t you get your face in my ass babe? I’ve brewed another gift for you” Russell says as he gives his ass a smack, making his plump cheeks wobble.

Without needing to be told twice, I press my face against his bulbous wet ass. Letting his wet meaty cheeks mold around my face, and wedging my nose into his slick ass crack.

Ppppphhhrrrruuuubbssssssss

Russell rips a wet sounding fart in my face that has my eyes watering. I cringe as I feel moisture from his ass spritzing my face.

Russell helps me out of the bathtub and we drape ourselves in thick, fluffy robes. We pick up the lasagna and plates from the kitchen and head to the sitting room. Russell remains standing after we place the lasagna and plates on the coffee table, and I take a seat on the couch. I look up at Russell inquisitively.

Russell gives me a cheeky grin and nods his head towards my plate of lasagna on the coffee table. “Would you like me to flavor up your lasagna honey?”  

At first I don’t understand what he means, but when it comes to me my dick throbs under my robe. “Y-yes p-please” I stutter out.

Russell turns around and lifts up the back of his robe, revealing his fat globes of ass. He squats his ass over the edge of the coffee table, but more specifically, over my plate of lasagna. He balls his fists and starts to grunt.

PPPPPWWWWWWHHHHHHHFFFFBBBBBBB

A 9 second, trumpeting fart billows out of Russell’s ass and saturates my meal.

Russell sighs in relief and takes a seat next to me on the couch. He gives me and wink and says, “Anything for you babe, bon-appétit”

It’s kind of a chore but I finally finish my plate of lasagna. The first bites are vile but I grow to like it with the more bites I consume.

After dinner we decide to watch an action flick. I lay myself out on the couch and place my head in Russell’s lap.

Halfway through the movie, Russell gets me out of my robe. Before I can ask why, he’s draping it over both my head and his lap. I then hear him say, “Sorry sweetie but I feel that lasagna starting to kick in. I’m about to treat you to an impromptu Dutch-oven.”

Ppprrmmbb

Russell rips a 4 second fart that quickly encompasses my head. The intense and putrid smell has me coughing and gagging. I try to pull away from Russell’s lap but he keeps me in place with his big hand on the back of my head.

“You’re going nowhere sweetheart I’m just getting started”

FFFFFHHHOORRRRPPPP

“Let me give you another whiff of what your man’s capable of”

PPPPPWWWHHHHHBBBB

“Once I’m done with you babe, fresh air is going to seem like a foreign concept to you”

RRRRFFFFFUUUUUPPPPPP

“Sorry honey but I feel a big one coming and it wants out. I hope you’re ready for this”

BBBBBBRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHMMMMPPPPPPPTTTTTTT

Russell releases an enormous fart on my face that lasts for nearly a whole minute. Thanks to the Dutch-oven that I’m in, I smell the full force of Russell’s fart. My lungs feel like they’re on fire as I breathe in the totality of all his recent farts. Things start to go hazy until I finally succumb to unconsciousness.

I wake up the next morning, alone on the couch. I don’t feel as revitalized as I used to after my sessions with Russell. I‘m starting to develop feelings for Russell and the thought of him with other… clients just irks me. I think I’m going to have to take a break from Russell for a while.

A week later I’m returning home and I’m surprised to find Russell sitting on my front steps. And oddly enough, he’s wearing a long brown trench coat. Russell stands up as I meet him on the steps, and he looks nervous.

“Hi Russell um—w-what are you doing here?”  

“I wanted to talk to you, and you wouldn’t answer my calls or respond to my texts”

Russell’s right, I’ve been ignoring his calls and texts. And it was a dickish move.

“You’re right Russell, and I’m sorry about that. I need to be upfront with you.” I take a breath and look him in the eyes.

“Russell I don’t think this arrangement we have is going to work anymore” Russell looks hurt by this but I press on, “Russell over the past few months I’ve developed feelings for you, and since this is only a job for you, I know nothing good will come from this. So I thought ending this would be best for both of us.”

Russell becomes livid as he storms right up to me. If it wasn’t for him grabbing me by the shoulders, I would’ve fallen off the steps and onto my ass.

“You idiot, I’ve had a thing for you since we first met at the bar. I’m not an escort or gigolo or whatever it is you think I am; I only made it up so I could spend more time with you.” Russell declares as he shakes me a bit.

I look at him completely perplexed. “Why’d you lie about your um profession?” I ask.

Russell scoffs and says, “You’re a successful businessman who’s probably making six figures; I’m a lowly bartender. Outside of lying, I couldn’t think of any other reason of why you’d want to spend time with the likes of me”

I take a chance and attentively wrap my arms around his waist. “Russell you could be a bartender, gigolo, or professional assassin and I wouldn’t care. I enjoy every moment we spend together.”

Russell smiles at me and we have our first kiss. But then a question pops up in my head. “What have you been doing with all the money I’ve been paying you?”

“Oh I’ve just been putting it all in my personal safe in my apartment. I can give it all back if you’d like.”

I chuckle as I shake my head, “No it’s yours. Let’s just say it’s a gift from one lover to another. So what should we do now?” I ask. Russell takes my hand and leads us into the house.

Once Russell closes the door, he lets his trench coat fall from his shoulders, and I stare at him gob-smacked. He’s only wearing a pair of tight leather pants that fit him like a second skin. He turns around, presses his hands against the door, and juts his ass out towards me.

Russell looks back at me, over his shoulder, with a devilish smirk. “Since we’re now on the same page, I think it’s time we had some fun. How about we play master and fart-slave? Get over here fart-slave and bury your face in my ass. I’m about to deal some serious punishment to your sense of smell.”

I fall to my knees and bury my face in his fat, bulbous ass. The smell of his ass musk mixed with leather is enticing. I first feel Russell’s hand grabbing the back of my head and then I start to hear him grunting and groaning above me.

FFFFFRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPBBBBBBBBB

[atbell92]

If u a single gay reblog dis

[atbell92]

[atbell92]

The New Fart Slave: Part 1

I had known what I was going to be from the day I turned 16, a fart slave. I had taken the occupation test that the council gives everyone when they turn 16 and it decided I was to be a fart slave. I was fine with this, I knew of fart slaves that lived happy and fulfilling lives, it all depended on the placement and the people. There were two years of rigorous training, constantly smelling farts of all types and styles for hours and days. Many people of various weights and body types had used me as their chair in suits, pants and even being naked. I had learnt to like it, which was a good thing since this was going to be my life. Once I was 18 I was sent out into the world and put into placement, an office building, level 5 of a corporate accounting agency. When I first walked through the glass doors to the office I had a name badge which only read “trained fart slave" which gave me many excited looks. Halfway to the bosses office, a mountain of a man walked towards me, his skin was dark and his hair was slicked back. His suit was barely able to contain his hulk of a body, his pants were going through the worst with his gigantic ass. I could see his ass in the reflection of the glass he passed and it looked scary. The top quarter of his ass because his extra extra large pants couldn’t contain those cheeks. The size of him made me remember just how short 4 foot 5 actually was compared to his at least 7 foot body. Being so fixated on the thought of his ass made me blind to the world and I collided with him, my face slamming into his crotch.

“Wow there little dude,” his voice was deep and soothing, “you may be a slave but until you sign that contract you can’t be used at all by me.” I felt his hand caress my head and almost enveloped my skull with ease. “Okay, if you’re that eager then I might as well give you a taste of your new life.” His grip on my head was tight as he turned around, quickly lowering his pants to reveal his damp, stained underwear. The smell hit me and made me want to gag but I’d taken similar punishment during training. Before I could even beg to be put in there the world went dark and the warmth of his cheeks wrapped around my head. There was no light in this sweaty prison and I was okay with that. The pure silence of this chamber was interrupted by the brute force of a large and powerful fart released by the man, no, this god. BLUUUUURRRRRFFFFFFFTTTTTT

The smell made my eyes burn and my lungs scream but I had expected this and inhaled for the duration of the release. I accidentally gave out a cough and heard the large man chuckle.

“Is my gas really that bad?” Then I heard a crowd of the other voices in the office call out a synchronized “yes!”

“You better get used to this, kid, cause you’re gonna get a lot of it. We’ve all been waiting for a fart slut to come in since the last one escaped. You should come into my office and sign the document.” Turns out this man was the boss of this office. Without taking me out of his ass crack he started to walk and dragged me behind him. After a minute of slow walking, small farts being let out with each step, I heard a door close as he bent over and forced me out of his ass into a small chair. The world was fuzzy and took a second to become clear again, in front of me was a large oak desk with a computer monitor and the large beast of a man sat behind it. “You’ve been assigned here to be a fart slave, by signing this document you become legally required to smell the farts of any employee of ‘Walter and Co.’ who come to you to use you for this purpose. You cannot refuse to do your job or there will be consequences.” He had a large grin on his face as he said this, his white teeth shining in the fluorescent lights. “You know all this and I know you’re gonna work hard with this job so sign the paper already and I’ll give you a good test run to start off your day.” Without a second thought I used the blue pen to sign the paper which was quickly snatched from in front of me. “Good, now come over here, I have a way of inaugurating fart slaves.” Boss grabbed my by the arm and pulled me up without ease and dragged me out of the office to sounds of claps and “give ‘em hell, boss” as i was dragged to the supply closet. When I saw what was inside I was scared, a singular pole and a sign saying “TRAINED BUTT SNIFFER, make ‘em smell your ASS!” I was quickly stripped naked and tied to the pole, a collar put around my neck and a leash put onto it. The door was left open for everyone to see as the boss pulled the back of his pants down along with his underwear to reveal his sweaty and hairy crack. “Get ready, fart slave, cause this cupboard is about to get windy!” As the world went from an office to a sweaty, musky, fart filled void.

[atbell92]

Bro, da and uncle

Mark was the youngest of three brothers, and they lived with his father and Uncle Tom. Being a male dominated house, there was (quite naturally) a lot of farting, whether just casually or as a prank. Being the youngest, Mark found himself the usual target of these pranks, especially regarding his older brothers, Jim and Paul, who he shared a room with. One day, the boys had decided to make a den in their bedroom, which they would then sleep in at night. It was by no accident that Jim and Paul decided to place Mark in between them, so that they could torture him with gas later in the night. “Night guys!” said Mark, making himself snug and closing his eyes. The lights went out and all was silent for a few moments. PPHHARRRPPP!!! Paul had just ripped a huge fart and started wafting it right in Mark’s direction. “Oh, god Paul, that stinks!” Mark groaned, turning to face Jim and finding himself face first inside Jim’s butt crack before he could even speak. “Oh, I got him in my arse Paul!” Jim roared with laughter, holding the helpless Mark against his crack. “MPPHHH!” Mark groaned for freedom. “I think he wants you to fart on him,” Paul suggested. “MPPHHH!!” “Look, he even said please,” Paul laughed. “Well, if he wants farts then, oh,” PHHARRRRPPP!!! “Ahh, he’ll get ‘em! How does that smell, fart face?” Mark was too humiliated to speak. His brothers often farted in his face and he knew by know that squirming was no way to get free. They’d let him go when they got bored and so he just took it, breathing in the farts just like his brothers wanted. When Jim was done farting, he passed a dazed Mark over to Paul, who let rip a barrage of blasting, stinky and wet farts right into Mark’s mouth. It was so loud, the sound of the trumps echoed down Mark’s throat as he swallowed them, making his brother’s cry with laughter. Mark felt so stupid, just taking it like that, but what choice did he have? Finally, Paul finished and Mark was free to return to sleep. Unfortunately, while no gas was being ripped in his face, Mark’s brother’s were filling the den with their manly, musky, farty smell. It was truly terrible and the sounds of them trumping never seemed to end. Mark had to get out. “Where do you think you’re going?” Paul asked when Mark tried to leave. “I’m not sleeping in here with you two farting every two seconds!” Mark complained. “I’ve had enough!” “I don’t think so!” Paul retorted hotly. “If you want to go then you have to do something for us first.” At this point, he and Jim grabbed Mark so that he couldn’t escape. Paul then proceeded to whisper instructions into Mark’s ears. As he heard them, a tear shed down the poor boys face; but he would do it if it could mean a night of freedom. Both Jim and Paul were on all fours, their backsides high in the air. Mark crawled across the den, placing his face inches away from Jim’s arse. “May I smell your bottom?” he asked. “Urgh! You dirty bastard!” Jim faked disgust. “I bet you want me to fart in your face too, don’t you?” “Yes please,” Mark said stupidly, nearly crying.
“Get in there then!” Mark pressed his face into his brother’s arse and took one deep long wiff. It already reeked of the sprouty farts that Jim had been releasing earlier; the smell must have really stained the fabric of his pants, for no matter how hard Mark sniffed, the smell wouldn’t go. Jim also started rubbing his arse into Mark’s face, no doubt smearing the fart smell onto Mark too. “Here comes the fart!” Jim warned and sure enough it came: an immense gust of putrid wind, a gale force fart that blew back Mark’s hair and made his eyes water, while he smelled it deeply. When the initial wave of gas ended, he removed his face from his brother’s arse, said “Thank you,” and kissed his brother’s arse, just in time to have his lips farted on. Mark then proceeded to Paul’s arse. “Paul; I really want you to fart on me,” he said. “Why? Do you like the way it smells?” “Yes, I love the smell of farts, Paul,” “Then you wouldn’t mind if I do this,” and with that, Paul pulled down his boxers, revealing his bare and hairy arse to his younger brother. “That’ll let you have more of the smell that you love.” Mark knew he had to sound grateful and he thanked Paul for his kindness, gently placing his nose into his brother’s crack, resting it on his anus. “Prepare yourself, fart boy!” Paul said. Mark just had time to let out a small whimper before Pauls’ anus puckered on his nose and opened to shoot a mega trump right into Mark’s nostrils. Paul held Mark’s head in his crack. “SNIFF IT!!” he ordered, before letting out another three farts, which Mark smelled as best as he could. He then did as he had done for Jim, he kissed Paul’s arse and thanked him for his farts. He heard the boys laughing as he left the room to find somewhere else to sleep. Mark entered his Dad’s bedroom. There were a lot of boxes about as they had just moved house and so little room to sleep on the floor. Mark was about to go elsewhere when his dad woke and told him he could share the bed with him if he wanted. Despite being a little old for such things (Mark was fourteen) he was exhausted and so he did. The two laid in bed, with Mark’s dad facing away from his son. Mark was happy, finally free of farts and ready for sleep.PHLORP! A wet fart erupted from beneath the duvet covers. Mark’s dad sniggered. Mark knew what was coming. He went terribly pale and let out a tiny defensless yelp, as covers came cascading over his head, sealing him in a dutch oven. To recap from the last part of this story, Mark is the fart cushion of his family, who all love to torture him ceaselessly with their gas. He had just been forced to endure the gas of his brothers, Paul and Jim and after escaping them, went to his dad’s room. Unfortunately for him, his dad has just trapped him in a dutch oven, and the smell is beginning to overpower him already. “Pwoah! Dad! Let me out!” Mark screamed as the beef broth stench of his dad’s fart entered his nostrils. His dad laughed in reply. “I suggest you be quiet and take it son,” he said. “You don’t want your brothers to hear this do you? They might want in on the action.” “I suppose you’re right,” Mark moaned, resigned yet again to his stinky fate. “Of course I’m right. Now let me hear you take a big whiff.” SSSSNNNNNIIIIFFFF!!! “Good boy. Now I’m going to fart on you again, so get your face up my farthole ready for it boy.” “Yes dad,” Mark said, presenting his face to his father’s arse, subsequently planting his nose into his crack. “Hang on, back up a moment Mark. I just want to… that’s better. Right, you can get back in there now.” Mark daren’t move. His father had just pulled down his boxers to reveal his immensely hairy bottom and dirty bum hole to his son’s face. He couldn’t put his face in that. “I said,” Mark’s dad grappled his sons head in one hand and forced it into his crack. “Get in my arse. That’s a boy! You ready for some gas?” “MMPPHH!” “Don’t be too eager, I might have to get the boys in here if you want it that badly.” At this point in time, Mark wouldn’t have minded. His brother’s farts would smell like fresh tulips on a spring morning in comparison to whatever was about to erupt from his father’s already terribly smelly arse. “Right then Mark, here we go!” PPPPHHHARRRRPPP!!! “Ahhh, that’s a good one. Start smelling it boy.” Mark reluctantly did as he was told; not that he had a choice, what with his father still keeping his head locked in his arse, rubbing his buttocks back and forth, smearing the wet fart stains on his nose. “Jesus son, I never knew you were such a brown noser. Here, have this for your trouble,” BBRRRAARRRRPPP!!! PPLORRP!!! POOT!! PHHHARRRP!! That stream of farts caused the covers themselves to fill up with gas, not to mention how forcefully it vibrated against Mark’s face as he smelt those farts deeply, trying his best to smell it all as quickly as possible so that this torture could be over. Unfortunately for him, his father had been so relaxed by releasing the pressure of those farts, that he had rolled over, squashing his son’s face under his arse and fallen asleep. Mark could hear him snoring, and with each exhilation, his father let out a warm, pooting fart onto his son’s defenceless face. And so Mark lay there, immobile, smelling his dad’s farts as it was the only oxygen he had left to breath. As he did, he wondered why anyone would force their own child to endure such a torture as this. No wonder Mark couldn’t get a girlfriend; due to the amount of farts smothered into his skin, he pretty much smelt like a fart himself and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wash it off. He wondered how bad he would smell when the morning came, or if his father would even release him, because he so loved to wake his son up with a mouthful of fart. Fortunately, after three hours of face farts, Mark’s dad rolled over and once more, Mark could escape and this time, he decided to go downstairs to sleep in the living room where his uncle Tom slept, because Tom very rarely farted on him. The reason that Tom rarely farted on his nephew, was because he too had been the youngest of three brothers and had endured himself, endless days and nights of trumps ripped on his face by his mean brother’s, his father and their friends. They used to tie him up and fit a gas mask to his face, attached to which was a hose that split off into smaller hoses, which the guys stuffed down their pants and farted into, thus Tom was used to smelling up to eight different farts at any one time. They also used to see who could knock him out with their gas the quickest, who had the nicest smelling or tasting farts, and also made videos of Tom, seemingly breathing in their farts willingly, which they would show to any girls he brought home. All of this naturally led to Tom feeling a lot of sympathy for his fourteen year old nephew, however, it had also led to something else. A fart fetish. Yes, Tom had been face farted that many times that his nostrils soon became accustomed to the smell and he began looking forward to these face farting sessions with his family and friends. It seemed this happened to the youngest brother across all generations and often, the whole male side of the family would get together to fart on each others faces for hours on end. Even some of the men who weren’t the youngest liked to be face farted, but the youngest of each generation were never allowed to do the farting, and were always the most ridiculed as well, for if Tom wanted to smell some gas, he was forced to beg or even pay for the pleasure. His older brother Timothy however, need only ask and he’d get a big juicy one ripped tightly against his face. However, times were changing and as Tom watched his young nephew lie face up on the floor, he realised that he was no longer at the bottom of the run, not if he could turn Mark into a fartsniffer. And so, Tom rose, pulled down his underpants to reveal an immensely bubbly, soft arse and planted it onto his nephew’s face. Mark’s eyes opened, just in time to sight an anus pucker and rip a fart into his gaping mouth. “NOT AGAIN!” Mark thought to himself. During the space of a single evening, Mark had been forced to endure the farts of his brothers, then his father and now his Uncle Tom had just began letting loose in his nephew’s helpless face. PPPHHHARRRPP!!! “Suck it up lad,” Uncle Tom ordered, seeing Mark squirm to get away from the smell. “Embrace the gas. Love it!” Mark was truly terrified. Was his Uncle insane? How could anyone embrace the pleasure of being face farted? There was no pleasure in it at all, especially when the one farting on you had an enormous arse that was crushing your face, not to mention the sweat in his Uncle’s crack, mixed with the forests of hair that grew there. Mark found himself wishing he was back in the tent enduring the farts of his brothers, or even in the dutch oven his dad had given him just minutes ago. “Why is it always me?” Mark cursed as Uncle Tom released a powerful, shitty smelling fart up his nostrils. “Because you’re the youngest,” Uncle Tom explained. “It’s a tradition we have in this family. When I was your age I got the same treatment, but I learned to appreciate your father’s farts, as well as my fathers and even your brothers. Don’t worry son, you’ll get used to it someday.” “Not if you let me go!” Mark pleaded. Uncle Tom let out a deep fart and sat firmly on his nephew’s face, silencing his pleas for release as well as sealing the poor kid with that truly horrific fart and those that would follow. Tom had discovered that one of the perks of being a family fart cushion was that inhaling so many farts made he himself, quite flatulent, to the point where he could pretty much fart at will. Mark was discovering this now, as he cried under his Uncle’s anus, which was bombarding his face with streams of powerful gas that would have sent him flying into the air had his Uncle not pressed all of his weight on him. To make matters worse, Tom decided to put on the television and he sat there watching it, casually passing gas on his nephew like he was nothing but a seat cushion. The flatulence was never-ending and each fart was longer and louder than the last, not to mention the stink which increased with the increasing sweatiness of Tom’s crack, to the point where Mark literally smelled like an anus himself. After a while, Mark began to accept that his Uncle was not going to release him and so he lay there and accepted his fate. “Ah, that’s the first step,” his Uncle said, though Mark was too busy breathing in the farty air to hear anything. “Accepting your place as the fart receptical. I’ll have you pleading for farts in no time boy.” And he let out a heartily wet fart, his stinkiest yet, but Mark just lay motionless and smelled it all. This fart session continued until the morning. Tom had actually fallen asleep, but Mark had not even tried to escape as he had with his father, not even when Tom rolled over, off of his face. Mark remained, his nose placed against his uncle’s anus, waiting to smell the remaining farts. Mark had no idea why he was doing this, he seemed sort of entranced almost, for even when day broke and his brothers came downstairs to see him sniffing his Uncle’s arse, he didn’t notice them. “What the hell are you doing?” Paul exclaimed. Mark didn’t respond, for Uncle Tom had released a fart and he had immediately started to sniff it deeply. Paul and Jim laughed out loud at this. “So you’ve decided that you like fart, huh bro?” said Jim. “Well get a load of this!” Jim lifted his leg and let out a ten second, tightly ripped fart, which got Mark’s attention and he stared at his brother’s arse. It was at this point that Mark truly realised what he had been doing, what he wanted to do now. He had enjoyed his Uncle’s gas, he loved the way it smelt, the way it made the tip of his nose vibrate, not to mention the deep, manly sound that the farts made. He also loved the fact that he was being humiliated, the fact that he was just taking these farts in the face without wincing, instead just sniffing or eating or rubbing his face in it. Now, as he stared at his brother’s jean clad arse, all he could think about was crawling up to it, placing his nose before Jim’s almighty anus and inhaling that fart. “Don’t just lie there bro!” Jim ordered. “Get over here and smell my farts!” Mark didn’t need telling again. He ran over to his brother, placed his nose in its rightful place and began smelling his farts, kissing his arse in praise of the beautiful trump before asking politely for another one, just as he had done the previous night in the tent. After that, his brother’s decided to tag team him, placing Mark into a fart sandwhich between their arses, ripping constant farts so loud that they woke their father up, who was delighted to see that his son had finally turned into a fart One of the best stories ever on GABF. Previously posted by I guy who I think may have been called Farteater, on the site I found this he was called PFWilson. Remember, I’ll send you a fart video for every full length story you upload http://files.b1.jcink.com/html/emoticons/wink.gif

[atbell92]

Hey can you write a story about Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles (Sam and Dean)

I can’t blame you.They’re both pretty hot!

The story here is written a bit more weirdly because it was originally a RP-thing. I slightly edited/re-wrote some parts. Also, it has some very silly, ridiculous plot elements! Either way, I hope you all like it!

Superfarts

During one of their “on-the-road” missions, Sam and Dean ended up in one of those shabby motels they’d always use as their “base”. They were investigating about a strange creature in the woods, but Dean, being the fast-food eater he is, wasn’t really helping this time.

“Look out, Sammy: those are pre-poop farts. never trust a pre-poo-“ but Dean was interrupted by the loud sound of his own, immense blast of gas, who turned out to be a bit too wet near the end.

“Shit… told you!” he said, while gently scratching his butt in jeans, as if he was making sure that no extra stuff came out after his blast. “Nope, all clear…” he chuckled, immediately ripping another fart.

“Would you stop this? We’re in the middle of a case here! The Jersey Devil ain’t gonna kill himself Dean”

“I’ll save you hours of Google searches. I got the weapon right here, listen” he announced, ripping a third long fart

He then stared at Sam with a silly smile, trying not to laugh. Sam narrowed his eyes in disgust and went back to his research.

“OK so, Dean, listen. Apparently, according to this old book, the Jersey Devil can only be killed by a huge blast of fire that engulfs his entire body. Great, now we need a flamethrower”

Dean remained silent for a moment, analyzing his brother’s words. He then smiled wildly, staring at his sibling with a smirk.

“Don’t even think about it…” Sam commented.

Keep reading

[atbell92]