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Dreamy 4 🍑

big butts in tiny thongs

“Hows it feel, low life? You thought you could transform yourself into a pair of my daughters pantys without me knowing? Pathetic. You’re gonna be my gym thong, and i’m gonna wear you till i rip you.”

He gave himself a wedgie as his thong began to screa, and cry

“Too late now bitch. I’m so glad you decided to keep your nose and mouth though, itll make my farts that much better”

PPPPPRRRRRRRFFFFFTTTTTTTT

“Hows it feel, low life? You thought you could transform yourself into a pair of my daughters pantys without me knowing? Pathetic. You’re gonna be my gym thong, and i’m gonna wear you till i rip you.”

He gave himself a wedgie as his thong began to screa, and cry

“Too late now bitch. I’m so glad you decided to keep your nose and mouth though, itll make my farts that much better”

PPPPPRRRRRRRFFFFFTTTTTTTT

Nate had always been extremely sadistic, and he’d had a kind of morbid curiosity that would usually get the better of him. Once littles became integrated into regula society in some states, Nate had always contemplated ways he could torture the poor souls, but hadn’t ever acted on anything. Except for today. He’d gone to the beach with his friends, on an extremely hot and humid day, and he knew his swamp ass was rank. On the way back to his car, he noticed a particularly tiny little business man walking on the “littles only” portion of the sidewalk, talking inaudible on his tiny phone. Nate lifted him jerkily and suddenly to his face, scaring the poor little man near to death. He screamed as he was raised to Nate’s smirking face, and his fear grew as he recognized the huge man’s morbid curiosity. Nate bit his bottom lip, unsure of what he wanted to do to the little man. He considered tons of options, chewing him up, swallowing him whole to feel him struggle and dissolve inside him, putting him into his rancid armpits, shoving him into his car’s cigarette lighter, and more, but then he felt the slight itch in his ass of sweat, and he knew what he wanted to do on that 97 degree afternoon. He opened up his car door, and threw the struggling little onto the warm leather seat, then slowly oriented half of his ass over the little man. “You like the smell?” The poor little wept, “please, no. I’ll do anything.” Nate just laughed, and slowly lowered his ass onto the struggling little, who fit perfectly between his rank, sweaty ass cheeks. In truth, the tiny man had hoped for death, but he wasn’t crushed. Nate wiggled side to side, the little man becoming more jammed into his musky and sweaty crack with every movement. “I think it’s time for a nice, long, drive, yeah?” Nate smirked and leaned forward, shutting his car door and putting it into gear, as the little man let out a scream for help that nobody would hear.

“Listen fag, the only reason your not currently pinned under my gigantic ass, inhaling farts created by your digested friend, is because i want you to see the powerful ass that is your new life. Take a good look. Go ahead, feel my powerful cheeks, take a whiff. You love to serve it now, so get used to my farts and constant sitting on your pathetic face.” PPPRRFFTTP

Drake’s Biggest Fan

3 page commission

Zach practically leapt out of his skin when he heard he was the winner. The man couldn’t believe his good fortune. He had done it, he had taken the day off from work so he could sit by the radio all day and listen for when to call in to win VIP tickets to Drake’s upcoming concert. Zach had been a die-hard Drake fan since So Far Gone dropped and was such a Drake stan that it became a source of ribbing among his friends. But Zach had the last laugh now; he was going to get to meet his musical idol.

Zach eagerly counted down the days, crossing them out on his calendar as each one passed, getting more and more anxious as Saturday finally arrived. He got there nice and early, getting the full red carpet, VIP experience. Free food and drinks and he could stand at the very front of the mass of concert goers that packed the arena to see the biggest music star in America.

The entire building was rocking as Drake stepped out, Zach overshadowing the other people up front with the cheering of a true fan. Once the music had stopped, and Zach’s voice was now hoarse, he giddily made his way backstage, several security members escorting the VIP contest winner to Drake’s dressing room so he could spend some time with his fan.

Zach could feel himself shaking from excitement and anticipation, a big wide smile draped across his face as the door marked “Drake” was opened and sitting right in the middle was none other than Champagne Papi himself. The handsome artist smiled, clearly worn-out from his performance, his entire body dripping in sweat, but it didn’t stop him from greeting Zach warmly. “Hey what’s going on man?” Drake welcomed the young man into his dressing room, nodding to the guards who shut the door to let the two of them be alone. Zach could barely speak, far too excited, ready to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Yeah I heard I had a VIP coming to meet me tonight so I made sure we could have a good time together.” The taller, much more built man said.

“Wow, this is so amazing.” Zach said with a nervous chuckle, Drake patting him on the shoulder and returning the laugh. “Oh it gets more amazing.” The gorgeous music celeb said, grinning happily. Suddenly Zach found himself on the ground, staring at the ceiling, everything was happening too fast for him. Drake had planted his Jordans on the side of the man’s face, smirking at him as he twisted his foot down and forced Zach to look at him. “You fucking faggot, I’m so sick of you queers winning these contests.” Drake complained, grinding the homo’s face that was under his shiny new shoes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘How’d you know I was gay?’ Cause of the way you look at my muscles and crotch faggot.” The handsome Canadian insulted further, smirking as he rubbed over his grey sweatpants-covered bulge while staring at his faggot slave.  

Drake took his foot off Zach’s head, confident the little fairy wouldn’t try to run away or resist. Regardless, the star was confident he could easily take the miserable faggot down despite being exhausted following a raucous performance. Drake squatted, his thick asscheeks stretching his sweatpants to their very limit. He brought his lips to Zach’s ear, whispering threateningly; “I’m going to make you wish you were never born fag.”

Drake stepped forward, his face out of sight for the whimpering, squealing faggot lying on the ground before him. The handsome music star’s shoes were on either side of Zach’s face, the boy looking up to see two thick, bubbly cheeks clad in tight grey sweatpants blocking out light like two massive orbs. Drake looked back, smirking some more. “Yeah I see you staring faggot. Want an up close view? Who am I to say no to a VIP with the best seats in the house!”

Champagne Papi cackled as he dropped his ass down hard on Zach’s face, grinding into the boy and getting him acquainted with his giant, round asscheeks that most could only see in brief. Few were as “lucky” as Zach was. “Or should I saw I’m going to make you the best seat in the house, right my little faggot?” Drake put his hands on his thick, creamy thighs as he grounds his ass back and forth along Zach’s face, delivering a brutal stinkface that succeeded in both causing pain to the poor queer and making him whiff the sweaty, musky odor of Drake’s swamp ass.

The faggot could barely handle it, running out of air as Drake’s cakes kept him smothered and barely gave him any moment to stop choking on his surprisingly foul buttmusk and get oxygen. “Need air fag? Hold on, lemme help you…” The thick superstar trailed off, a brief gurgle in his stomach alerting Zach as to what was about to happen to him. His screaming and carrying-on picked up, his limbs flailing fruitlessly, Drake’s phattie muffling his cries for mercy. “Yeah, maybe you aren’t as dumb as I thought!” He taunted with a laugh, not holding back as a rumbling, utterly potent fart drilled Zach deep in his sinuses. “Sniff up that air fag! It’s only gonna get worse.”

Drake rose from his seat on little Zach’s face, the dazed and confused homo still choking on fart fumes as he failed to attempt an escape, allowing his once-idol to strip down to a pair of tight white boxers that perfectly scooped up and showed off Papi’s bubble butt. Drake cupped them as he admired his own gorgeous physique. “Most girls get to tongue this ass when I step out of the shower. You get something far more special.” His grin was that of pure sadism, Zach unable to escape his worst nightmare as the two big mounds of meaty Canadian booty smothered him once more, this time with even less layers of protection.

He reached back, peeling his cakey cheeks apart so he could bury Zach’s nose deep in his swampy asscrack, continuously slamming his puckering, gassy anus against the boy’s nostrils. “Sniff that asshole faggot!” Drake roared, commanding his slave to huff his assmusk while blasting him with a thick, lengthy guff. The fart reeked horribly, burning Zach’s nose and eyes, stinking like rotten meat that had been baking in the summer sun, nowhere for the gas cloud to go but down Zach’s nose and into his lungs.

Drake sat heavily against his fag’s face, keeping his asshole glued to that nose and farting into it, a seemingly unending stream of hellish flatus pounding Zach’s face. “Think it can’t get worse?” Drake taunted, not expecting an answer as he stood once more, peeling off his underwear so those humungous cheeks could be freed of their cotton prison. The faggot looked up at the alpha male in horror; usually such a supple and bubbly ass like that would make Zach drool but with the way it had been smothering him and farting without mercy, only fear washed over the boy. It was meaty and smooth, freshly shaved, but dripped with sweat and threatened to ruin the homo’s sense of smell forever.

Drake’s ass rocketed back downward at chilling speeds, connecting with Zach’s face and creating a sickening SLAM and then a wet, sweaty squelch. “Was that painful, you little faggot?” Drake asked in sadistic glee, hoping he really hurt his new bitch. “Let’s see if I can’t make it worse on you fag.”

The alpha male stinkfaced Zach hard, ramping it up a notch from when he was wearing sweatpants and underwear, fully nude now and able to practically drown the queer in ass-sweat. Drake continuously rubbed his soft, white-hot, and soaked in sweat anus over Zach’s nose, making sure he could directly inhale all the numbing ass fumes that flowed from it even when Champagne Papi wasn’t farting. With as much sweat that Drake was producing, the faggot’s face turned slick and ripe in no-time, the thick music star able to glide his ass around with ease, destroying Zach’s natural scent and replacing it with that of rank booty.

“Fuck, alright, enough of this. Time to make you huff farts faggot. And this time, I’m making sure you vacuum these up that ugly little nose.” Drake pressed back hard, finding Zach’s nose and keeping his anus pressed flush to it, opening those puckering lips so they could eat up the boy’s nostrils. “Oh fuck yes! Just like that fag!” Drake moaned as he felt the tip of his slave’s nostrils press into his anus, immediately rewarding the queer with a hot, fresh fart. It reeked of death, something that would ordinarily clear a room instead flowing directly into Zach’s nose and down inside his body. “You make such a good fart cushion faggot. Maybe I’ll just keep you on in that role!” The Canadian teased, following his taunt with another fart, this one longer and louder, threatening to blow out Zach’s eardrums as it went on and on until it finally ceased after 15 brutal seconds.

The faggot felt his braincells melting as Drake’s brutally ripe and rotten fart fumes decimated his will to fight back and resist the cakey yet gassy booty that was covering his entire face. “Put your tongue in my ass faggot. Now!” Drake ordered, giving an open-palm tap on his bitch’s nuts to let him know he was serious. Zach whimpered like a dying animal as he opened wide and pressed his cool, wet tongue into Drake’s hot and moist anus. “Fuck!” He cried in immense pleasure as the feeling of the fresh tongue being ruined by his destructive anus made him shoot thick hot ropes of cum and simultaneously feed his faggot a thick, relentless fart that soared down the queer’s throat and rendered him unconscious.

Drake rose from his faggot seat, panting with relief as he looked down at the passed-out fag under him, admiring the way visible steam lines rose from his face, his hair mussed up horribly and his entire head generally stinking of farts. “Security! Get this faggot out of here. And make sure he knows I’ve got another show here in a couple months.”

It’s common knowledge that your straight buddy has some serious gas.

And he’s about to demonstrate how he turns this tub into a jacuzzi. 

“Rub a dub dub !”

Chloe had promised herself that she would never have such a lapse in willpower over her husband. She told herself that no matter how she felt, she wouldn't check up on her ex-husband. Michael, who was once her husband of twenty years, and the father of their two children, had left Chloe five years ago. When he told her why he wanted to leave, she laughed out loud, thinking there was no possible way he could've been serious. But he was. Michael wanted to willingly be shrunk down.

This immense lifestyle change Michael proposed wasn't all he wanted, however. Michael also expressed a long held desire to join a specialty adult-film studio. He'd researched it heavily in the months leading up to his confession to his wife. He had explained to Chloe that this "speciality" studio recruited those who wanted to be permanently shrunken down and "employed in the development of adult films under the oversight of their assigned 'supervisor'".

This "supervisor" would not only be the shrunken person's partner in the films, but would be entirely responsible for the livelihood of this person as well.

"So, what, you want to be shrunken into some girl's tits for the rest of your life Michael?" Chloe had said when Michael first told her, though she was still laughing, thinking he was joking. "Hon, no.. I'm being serious. And it would be a uh.. A guy." Chloe looked up at him then, suddenly stone-faced, and realizing that he was completely serious. The gravity that her husband was not only leaving her and their family, was gay, and might as well be dead hit her all at once. In the following months, Michael didn't even grab any of his things from their house, just left one night in a sweatshirt to begin the shrinking process and start his new life.

Though it had been years, and Chloe and her kids had done their best to move on from Michael's disappearance, which Chloe had told the kids was a "foreign job that would mean dad's gone for a long time", she still found herself thinking about Michael. Deep inside her, she wanted to know what the reality of his new lifestyle really looked like. She had promised herself countless times she wouldn't look into it. She didn't want to do that to herself. But one evening, after a couple glasses of wine, she couldn't stop herself.

She dug and dug through the company's "actors" page that Michael had mentioned to her before she left, noticing that the shrunken men's names weren't even included. Just the "supervisors'" names were listed, with their shrunken men pictured alongside them, in their hand, or even tucked into their waistband. She realized that she was just going to have to zoom into the faces of each of the shrunken men in order to find Michael.

Eventually, she did find him, and found too that his partnered "supervisor" was a nineteen-year old kid named Angel. She recoiled. This kid was half her husband's age, barely even an adult yet. She clicked into the actor's page, opening screen upon screen of Michael's miniscule body shoved into the kid's ass in every conceivable way. It seemed like he spent his entire existence now jammed up in this nineteen-year-old's hairy cheeks. Her stomach turned as she put an image to what her husband had said. Michael was now living his entire life in the dingy room of some teenage boy, and his only purpose was to be smushed around this kid's ass as he pleased. She sent herself to bed, reeling.

The next afternoon, their oldest son hopped onto the computer to start his homework. The second the screen lit, he was immediately bombarded with the image of some teenager's hairy, sweaty butt across the screen. He pulled back, definitely not expecting that to come up on his mom's computer, but then paused for a second, doing a double-take. He squinted, moving back to look at the screen. "Is that.. dad..?"