Farts - Tumblr Posts

Hello I Am Not A Door To Door Vacuum Salesman That Is Not What I Am And That Is Not What I Will Ever Be And It Really Exhumes Me That You Would Accuse Me Of Something As Heinous As That And Also---- Oh My Goodness Wait Just A Moment I Believe I Have Mistaken You For Another Vessel I Am So Terribly Sorry I Really Hope You Can Forgive Me And Also Draw Me A Picture Of Jake The Dog Farting

Hello my friend! I hope you teach that other vessel a lesson for I would also be really exhumed if someone would accuse me of being a vacuum salesman!

Also im kinda sorry about how bad the drawing is. Im not that proud of the way it worked out but I tried.

Have a nice day/night dude!

Early Bird Gets The Viagra

I was awoken by a putrid stench, like rotten eggs, it was my roommate playing a prank on me, or so I thought...

"Hehe... sorry Son, didn't mean to wake you like this, but you just wouldn't get up no matter how much I yelled! I had to resort to cutting the cheese, guess it worked, huh?" He chuckled.

I was lost, confused, those fumes were almost, numbing my brain making me unable to process the situation, I just stared dumbly at this old guy.

"Well, I'll see you downstairs, don't make your old man wait!" He said as he waddled away, letting a couple farts slip out as he exited.

The fumes finally went away, but my mind was still dull and I felt heavy and slow like a 1000 ton weight had been dropped on my shoulders. I slowly made my way to the bathroom, to start my morning routine despite all the, weirdness.

I felt so, out of breath by the time I made it to the mirror, I was panting for air, jeezus I felt so old and out of breath...

PFFFFTTTTTT!!!!!

My asscheeks let out an embarassingly loud fart, the hell? I was never this gassy let alone- Holy shit.

I was some skinny college student, but now? I'm 28... and I had a gut, a sizable one at that. What the hell? Why did I just gain a belly? Why did I fart without control? What's going on I thought.

Those fumes finally hit my nostrils, god damnit it smelt just like that old man's fart, my face did not scrunch up but... smirked. The fuck?

BRRRRRRRRRMMMMMPPHHHHHH!!!

The fart that came out my 34 year old body was louder and smellier this time, it made my belly jiggle. I chuckled at that- wait, no!

I felt my stomach churn, I hurried to the toilet, plopped my fat butt on it. But nothing came out, I was just sitting there waiting for something to happen...

PHHHHHHRRRRRRRMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Jesus, to think I was pushing 45 and ripping farts like that... Jesus I needed to lay off the Taco Bell... If only my husband didn't love it...

The sheer force of the fart made the toilet automatically flush, as it always did, it used to be so loud, but I'm an old fart, so this hearing of mine ain't what it used to be, I can barely hear it nowadays.

Now here came the worst part, putting my clothes back on... With me being 55 and all, and with a gut like this I have the reach and bend over just to pull my pants up, but that always flares up my back, combined with my shitty eyesight, it usually takes a couple minutes just to put them back on after I take a dump.

BRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Wooooh.... I ate too much cheese.." I joke to myself, me and my husband always enjoy a good fart joke, oh. Speaking of him, I need to get back to him.

I retrieved the bottle of viagra that I came here for from the medicine cabinet and waddled to the living room as fast as I could. And there he was on the couch waiting for me in his boxers.

"What took you so long, hun?" He asked.

"Ah... Sorry I had to take a dump and you know how long that takes..."

He chuckled: "Hehe, of course."

I opened the bottle of viagra and put one of the pills in my mouth, we knew at 60 our old cocks couldn't get hard without some pills, but neither of us seemed to mind or care about that.

"Hey." he asked: "Before that, could you pull my finger?" I knew what he was going to do, but I pulled that fat finger he stuck out, he lifted his leg and let out a long fart that smelt like rotten eggs, we both laughed like we always did at the classic pull my finger prank.

"That's not the only thing that's gonna come out of your ass tonight." I grinned.

"Oh-hoh, I know." He joked back. He pulled down his boxers: "Now come fuck me, Babe."

How do you feel about dutch oven farts??

Gross but cute and fun

I have an idea for a fart story!! A guy secretly taking pictures of two big beefy guys at the gym, when I mean beefy I mean huge everything huge asses and all, and he gets caught and have to sniff and kiss there farting holes 🤤🤤

Ah I can see that, would be a sequel to the alley behind the bar story

The Human Chair

Warning; LONG (~8.5K words) and not including a "keep reading" link in case this blog goes down some day :/

An old story of mine that's floating around here on tumblr already but hosted on one of my blogs that got deleted, here it is again in case & to find it easier;

John was sitting at his armchair in his living room, thinking for a long while. Would it work well? He thought it would. He looked up at the clock and saw the time. It was a quarter to 3. If the guy who emailed him was serious about this, he would be getting off the train at 3:15. John got up, grabbed his coat, and left his house.

The train pulled into the station. People got out. John sat in his car, waiting for the guy who had reached out to him. He stepped off the train, just as he said he would. He was short, a scrawny nerdy looking guy with blond hair and glasses, not too shabby an outfit. Sweater over a shirt and khakis. He was probably a tech guy. He was scanning the parking lot for John’s car, and when he saw it, he paused. Maybe he was second guessing? Whatever nerves had caused him to pause, he dropped them and walked toward John’s car, a slight tremble in his steps. In that moment, John felt the urge to fart. He held it in. John’s cock was hard in his pants.

“Ben?” He rolled down the window.

“Yeah, John?” He gulped.

“Come in.”

He got into the car and buckled his seatbelt, “Thanks for picking me up,”

“Yeah of course. Besides, no offense, but I don’t give my address out to people who might flake.” He turned out of the parking lot, “You still want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Ben was smiling wide. He thought John looked even hotter in person; rugged black hair and scruff, a strong physique…he had seen naked pictures and knew he was hairy under those clothes.

“Good. Do you want lunch or anything?” John gave out a little laugh, “Will probably be your last good meal for a while,”

“No it’s ok, I ate before I got on the train,” Ben was shaking now. John grimaced. He didn’t want to bring this stranger to his house if he started having doubts and backing out. But there was not much he could do. In the email, he was clear that Ben was allowed to say no at any point before they start. After they started, Ben would have no choice. That part turned Ben on, he’d said.

They reached his house. It was an ordinary single story house. It didn’t stand out from the others in the neighborhood. It had a chimney, but John didn’t use the fireplace for years.

“You know, I’m still surprised that you found my ad,” John said as they got out of the car. “I thought that site would have taken it down by now.”

“Nope, it’s, uh, still up.” Ben had gone quiet in the car. John could tell he was nervous. Once they got into the house, Ben asked “Ok so, where is it?”

John smiled again. Maybe the nerves were because of excitement. “Follow me.”

He brought him into the living room. It was relatively small. His armchair was against one wall. The couch was against the other. Three large windows looked into the back yard. Across from the armchair was the TV. John gestured toward the armchair, “Here it is, just like I told you.”

Ben was trembling a lot now, and he looked at the chair, his eyes glued to the seat. “It really works the way you said, in the email?” His voice was faint.

“Yep. I’ll go over just to be clear,” With a grunt, he pulled the chair away from the wall. Ben couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It was exactly as it was in the pictures. The same pictures he had been jerking off to for the past week.

It was a large square hole in the wall. John had explained that it was where the fireplace used to be, but he didn’t want to pay extra for gas so he had it removed. Instead of patching up the wall, he left the hole. He’d also done a lot of DIY. He expanded the back of the wall, which took some space out of his bedroom closet but he didn’t mind that. He built a small drain that went down into the house’s sewage pipes. Just above that was a long board with wheels, what resembles a hospital gurnee. There were straps around it. There was also a hole in the middle of the board.

“Alright,” John sighed, his arms on his waist, “So…to recap. You’ll lay down here. I’ll strap your arms, ankles, legs, and chest in so you can’t move. You’ll be naked and your ass will go in that hole. I’ll put a funnel system around your dick and under your ass. That way, you don’t have to come out for the restroom or anything, you can just go into that hole. Kind of gross but it takes care of that problem at least.”

Ben gulped, “Ok,”

“You’ll be completely strapped and so, won’t move around. Then, I”ll put the chair over you. As I showed you,” He gestured toward the back of the chair, the bottom of it was hollowed out, “I fixed this old armchair up so that the cushion has a rim-chair built into it. When I put the chair back in place, I will turn the knobs on the gurnee and it will lift you up so that your face is at the seat level. See?” He unveiled the top of the seat, which looked like a normal cushion at first but turned out to be a thin fabric hiding the rim-chair. “Your face will be in that hole. And…uh, yeah that’s it. I’ll sit on your face as long as I want.”

Ben’s heart was pounding. John continued, “This fabric is in case I have friends over. Which I will, tomorrow night. I invited some buddies to come watch the game. Don’t worry, none of them will be sitting in this seat. Your face belongs to my ass only,” He smiled wide, “Just as I said in my emails, when you are my chair, you have no rights. You cannot say you want out at any time. If I need to fart, I’m farting up your nose. If I want my hole licked, I’ll sit on you naked and that will be your only cue. The only time you matter is when I ask if you are hungry or thirsty, and I’ll give you food and water. Otherwise, you don’t give me instructions. I’m not interested in conversation, because I don’t talk to chairs. If you are uncomfortable and want me to loosen the straps, too bad. If you’re sick of my farts, too bad. As we agreed, you belong to me for the next 48 hours. There are no safe words. If you want out now, I’ll take you back home. But the minute I put you in the wall is the minute you belong to me. If at any point in the next 48 hours you want to stop, and go home…too bad. My ass is your home until the weekend’s over. Do you understand?”

Ben’s face was white. He’d been jerking off to this kind of fantasy for so long, and when he found John’s ad online, he couldn’t contain his excitement. But now that he was in the house, he was terrified. It was too real for him. What if he hated it? What if in the very first minute he hates it after all? He’d never done something like this before. He’d never actually been smothered under a man’s ass, he’d never sniffed farts, never done anything kinky like this. If it turns out he doesn’t like it…he’ll be stuck as a human chair for two days.

“Do you understand?” John was deliberate.

“Yes sir,” Ben gulped, “I…I’m sorry this is just so hardcore…I’ve heard of people doing these things but I haven’t really done BDSM stuff with anyone,”

“Do you want to call it quits?” John asked again. “I won’t be mad.” That wasn’t entirely true. He would be annoyed and disappointed if the only person who responded to his ad decided to say no at the literal last minute. He’d been dying to try out his new toy for months. But he was still a good guy. He wouldn’t pressure anyone into doing it. In the emails, Ben seemed very excited. Maybe he was more in love with the idea of being a human chair than actually doing it. John would cut him slack since he has never dipped into bondage play before.

And Ben was nervous. He stared at the hole for a long time. The silence was more awkward with each passing second. Finally he took a deep breath, “No, I…I’m ready.”

“Ok. Take off your clothes.”

Ben stripped. As he undressed, his face was flushed. John seemed like a nice guy over their email conversation. But how could he put so much trust in a stranger on the internet? The only solace that Ben had was knowing that in these last few moments before they started, he was in complete control. At any second he could say “Nope” and go back home. But that window of time was getting smaller and smaller. John had pulled the gurnee out from the hole in the wall. There were seven straps. Two for each ankle, two for each wrist, one for his thighs, one for his chest, and one for the neck. There was a little padded indent at the front where his head would rest, two little rounded poles came up on either side. He didn’t know what they were for.

“Alright, if you are ready, lay down on your back.”

Ben stood in the living room naked. His cock had gone hard and was throbbing. He knew that once he was strapped in, he wouldn’t be able to touch himself at all for the whole weekend. That was part of the fun.

“And I’ll take your glasses for you,” He said. Ben took them off and handed them over. John asked, “can you see at all without these?”

“A little,” he shrugged, blinking, “I can’t see far away.”

“Ok. Not that it matters, you won’t be looking at anything but my asshole.” He picked up Ben’s clothes and put them on the table.

Ben sat down on the gurnee and got into position. Laying down, his ass was over the hole. When he had to go, he would just relieve himself into the tube that John would set up. That was the worst part, to him in the moment, thinking how disgusting and unhygienic it was. But he wouldn't have another choice. John had suggested wearing an adult diaper, but that sounded even worse.

Ben tightened the straps around his ankles. Then he tightened the strap over his thighs. Then, around his wrists. Ben’s heart was beating too fast. He tried to control his breathing. John tightened the strap over his chest. Almost as a reflex, Ben jerked his body a bit but he couldn’t move at all. Delicately, John guided Ben’s head down on the padding, and carefully wrapped the strap around his neck and tightened it just enough to keep him from moving his head up. Ben gulped, he felt the strap. He could still breathe fine at least. John moved over to fit a large tube over Ben’s dick, and pointed the other end of it down the hole in the gurnee between Ben’s legs. He set up a similar tube under Ben’s ass. Then, John turned some knob near Ben’s head, and the two poles on either side came together and pressed into his temples just above his ears. They weren’t tight, but they were set in place so Ben couldn’t turn his face to the side. He was completely immobile.

“Alright. This is your last chance,” John stood over him, his crotch was at the level of Ben’s face. From here, Ben saw John at a glorious angle. He looked so tall, buff, powerful, a dominant man. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

Ben nodded as much as the poles and straps allowed him to, “Yes sir. I…I need to be your chair. It’s my destiny” Ben’s cock was throbbing against his belly.

John smiled widely. His crotch was bulging. He had been horny since they started talking online. “You have no idea how much I’m going to love this. This has been my fantasy for years but I couldn’t find guys who were into it. You’ll be my first chair. You should be honored.”

Ben gulped, his face was burning red, “I…I’m very honored sir. I hope I serve you well.”

“You only have three jobs once you’re in there,” John said, “First, sniff all of my farts. I don’t want to smell a single one. Second, eat out my asshole whenever I’m naked. Third, don’t talk unless you are asking for food and water.”

“…ok,” Ben’s voice had gone weak. He was starting to feel dread now. Excited and horny, but also dreading if he’d made the wrong choice. But it was too late to say anything. He had to go through with it. As he said, this weekend is his destiny now.

It was settled. John slowly pushed the gurnee into the old fireplace, lining it up right. He had sealed off the chimney long ago, so it wouldn’t be cold in there. Ben’s body was completely hidden in the wall. Only his head and shoulders were sticking out, held down on the gurnee. Using his feet, John kicked down the wheel stops so that the gurnee couldn’t move if Ben shook around. John then pushed the chair back in place against the wall. Then, he got on his knees and stuck his hand under the chair. He found another knob and twisted it a few times to lift the gurnee up. As promised, Ben’s nose peaked through the hole in the seat. John stood up, and saw through the built-in rim seat, Ben’s face was the only part of him exposed. John grabbed the fabric from earlier and reminded him, “This is only to cover you for when my friends are here tomorrow. Don’t worry, they won’t see you. But it is thin enough that my ass will mold over your face and you will still get to smell everything.”

“Um, John,” Ben was shivering, “can we…or, ok, wait, pause, can we just do this for maybe half an hour at first, just to test it so I can see what it’s like before we do the full two days,”

John burst out laughing. It sounded evil in the moment. Ben’s face went white this time, the same dread creeped back. John said “I just told you minutes ago that don’t have conversations with chairs. No normal person speaks to a chair. But since you’re new to this I’ll let it slide. Your time for negotiation is over. If you wanted to only do half an hour, you should have said so in the email. But nooo…you’re pathetic little dick was throbbing when I said 48 hours. Remember you told me that? Throbbing. You loved the time we picked. So I’m sticking with it. It is,” he looked at the clock, “4pm Friday. Meaning that you will be here until 4pm Sunday afternoon. And now I’m done talking to you.” He sighed. Ben was whimpering. He was afraid he’d made a terrible mistake.

“I have been holding this fart in since I picked you up from the train,” John smiled again, “And you’re going to vacuum suck it out of my jeans.” he turned around. His ass looked huge from this angle, and he slowly lowered it over Ben’s face. The cushion supported his butt cheeks, and lightly spread them in his pants. They molded over Ben’s face. John shifted around until he felt the tip of Ben’s nose wedge up against his asshole. Now John was shaking. His cock was hard. He gripped the armrests of the chair and pushed.

PPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The fart came out much louder than he thought it would be. It vibrated deep into the chair. He burst out laughing. He felt Ben cry out into his ass, and he heard the gurnee wheels squeak. He was buckling around down there, making the gurnee shake a bit, but John knew it wouldn’t move. And he knew that there was nothing Ben could do to get his face out from his ass. The straps and post made it so he had no choice but to keep his head up, and if John wanted to fart directly into his nostrils, he could. And definitely would.

“Again, I’ll be nice since you’re new to this,” John cleared his throat, “You can’t be making any noise down there. The next 24 hours will be great practice for you to suck in my farts without freaking out and screaming.”

He felt Ben settle down, and felt him sniff and cough into his ass cheeks. John said, “Ok and also you really need to not cough or gag or anything. Anyway, now we can start for real.”

And with that, John stopped talking. Because why would he talk to a chair? He flipped on the TV and watched an old sitcom rerun. He felt a silent but deadly fart seep out and warm his butt. He shivered in delight, feeling extra comfortable in his new chair. If anyone else lived in the house with him, walking by they would just see John sitting in his favorite chair watching TV, and not think twice.

…

The next couple hours were uneventful. The sun set and it got dark in the house quick. John had some lights on and was still watching the show. At one point he got up to grab a bag of chips. As he stood up, he heard his chair coughing and sucking in fresh air. John laughed. In the kitchen he poured some chips into a bowl. Then he walked right back to the living room and sat down. Obedient so far. He didn’t have that much gas. Just a few short, quiet farts whispered out of his ass. They must have stunk pretty badly because each time, he felt muffled coughing against his butt cheeks, and heard the gurnee shake a bit. John had a huge smile on his face, and he was hard the whole time.

At around 7pm he turned off the TV, got up, and went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Nothing special. Leftover beef tacos. Even though it wasn’t healthy for him, he heated it up with a heaping handful of pre-shredded cheese. His grin was so wide. He’d mentioned in earlier emails that he was lactose intolerant, and that he would purposefully eat dairy so that he had more frequent and more foul smelling gas. In Ben’s reply, he said “my cock is drooling at the thought”. So, why not stick to his word? He’ll feel gross for the rest of the night, but at least John wouldn’t have to smell any of his own farts. He quietly ate his tacos in the kitchen, texting his friends about what beer he should get for the party tomorrow.

Closer to 8pm, he came back to the living room. He wanted so badly to look down at his chair again, but part of the fun was not acknowledging Ben as a person. He had to treat the chair like he would treat any other chair; with apathy, and disinterest. He sat back down, shifting a bit and feeling his cheeks separate so that Ben’s face wedged into his ass again. He puckered his hole to make sure that it was right over his nose.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have put cheese in those tacos” he pretended he was talking to himself, “My ass is gonna be ripping up a storm tonight.”

He sat back and turned the TV on again. This time he watched the next episode of his favorite cop drama.

His guts gurgled. His dick got hard. He knew that his chair had heard the gurgling too. John could feel his face scrunch up, embracing for impact. He grunted,

PRPRRRRRT

A wet sounding fart sputtered out of his ass. John sighed. He felt the chair sniff, and then it made a violent gagging noise. Again, he felt the chair shake a little as Ben’s body jerked as a reflex. John held back laughter. His own lactose farts made him feel queasy. He couldn’t imagine how unbearable they had to be injected right up the nose. He looked at the clock. Only 45 more hours to go.

At 9pm he got up, and to his surprise, the chair spoke,

“John can we do a time out,”

“Huh?” He looked around, pretending that he was alone, “That’s funny, I could have sworn I heard someone speak even though there’s no other human in the house,”

“John I’m serious,” the chair pleaded, “Your farts stink really fucking bad, I need a break,”

John grit his teeth, and said, “Ok, quicktime out. Yeah, of course they stink. They’re farts. Not rose perfume. Second, you don’t get breaks, remember? You are my chair.”

“Yeah,” Ben’s voice was faint, defeated. They’d already talked about this at length over email, but it wasn’t until that moment that Ben had internalized the reality of it.

“Now, I’ve been way too nice to you so far,” John continued, “So if you speak without permission again, I’m not going to be nice. Ok?”

The chair didn’t say anything.

“Good chair.” John nodded. “You hungry?”

“Yes sir.”

John went into the kitchen to make food. Ben stared up at the ceiling, his whole body trembling. This was really happening. He couldn’t stand John’s noxious farts. Each one made him feel sick to his stomach. But he had no choice. Just as he promised, he was completely at the mercy of John’s ass. In the dark hole in the wall, a pearl of precum dripped out of Ben’s cock.

John came back with bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. The smell of tacos when John got up earlier had made his stomach growl, and he wished he would have gotten more food than this. But he couldn’t complain. John had to spoon feed him the soup, and he tore the sandwich into small bites to drop into his mouth. Didn’t want to get the rest of the chair dirty. He then let Ben gulp down a glass of water.

Without asking if he was satisfied, John sat right back down in the chair. He had a devilish smile on his face, because he had been holding in more gas since he got up.

PRRPTRTTTTTTTTT

The fart sounded like it came from deep in his bowls. Again, he felt the chair jerking around under him. He continued to watch TV.

Close to 10pm, John turned the TV off and got up. He went into the bathroom, got undressed, and turned on the shower. He stood outside, waiting for the water to get hot. His body was covered in black hair, especially on his arms, legs, and ass cheeks. He got into the shower and started to shampoo his hair. He rinsed, put in some conditioner, and lathered his hands in body wash. He kept his ass sticking out of the shower curtain. He didn’t want a single drop of water to touch it. Why wash your ass in the shower when you had a chair with a built in asshole cleaner? Out of curiosity, he did two things. First, he brought his ass back into the shower, still away from the water, and ripped a fart. It echoed off the tiles. He sniffed the air. It was like old cheese in rotting egg salad. The stink actually made him gag. He started laughing. That was what he would be feeding his chair for the next few days. His cock was hard, but he decided to wait to take care of it.

The second thing he did, after he dried himself off, was to rub his index finger in his ass crack, then bring it up to his nose to smell. Not atrocious, but not…good. It’s a man’s ass at the end of the day, of course it wouldn’t smell good. Again he shivered. He washed his hands, then he brushed his teeth. He went into his room, still naked, and grabbed a blanket. Then he walked back to the living room.

His cock had gone down a bit, but it was at half mast when he reached the chair. Briefly, he looked into Ben’s eyes, before turning around and sitting down. Now he felt the skin of his face wedge into his ass crack. Luckily he didn’t have to repeat the rule about nudity, because the chair remembered to start licking. John draped the blanket over himself, and opened a book he had left on the table.

For the next few hours, John was in ecstasy. It was so warm and comfortable. He loved the feeling of being fresh out of the shower, comfy and naked in a blanket, curled up with a good book, and feeling a hot moist tongue work his asshole. It was hard for him to focus on the book, because, despite how much he wanted to dehumanize and ignore him, Ben was the only thing on John’s mind. He thought that at any moment, he could easily fart into his mouth. But it was still day one, John thought he’d give him a bit more time to get used to these arrangements before he pushed the boundaries. The devil on his shoulder was excited. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow, when he would get to hear his chair gagging on the fart he’ll rip down its throat.

As the hours passed, the tongue was moving slower and slower. There were a few minutes where it stopped completely. John would clear his throat, and a moment later it would start back up again. He looked at the clock. It was nearing 1am.

8 hours had passed. Another 40 to go. John wished he could just fall asleep in his chair, and force Ben to endure his night farts. His dick was hard at the idea of him being fast asleep, and his unconscious body letting out a disgusting fart right up Ben’s nose. So badly, he wanted to sleep on top of Ben, keeping Ben from sleeping and forcing him to be conscious with his putrid asshole over his nose. But unfortunately, John couldn’t fall asleep in a chair. He had to lay down. So, he put the bookmark in his book, set it aside, tossed the blanket off of him, and got up to go to bed. He stood up a bit, his ass hovering just over the chair. Instead of saying goodnight, he grabbed his ass cheeks, spread them, and pushed,

PPRRPRPRPRRRRRR

Yet another obnoxiously disgusting fart burst out of his ass. This time, he got to hear the chair’s coughing and gagging without being muffled. He didn’t turn to look. He turned off the light and left the room.

In bed, John had lotioned his cock and was masturbating to the memories of the day. He was kicking himself for not modifying the couch instead. If he’d modified the couch, then he could have the option to sleep with his ass over Ben’s face. Ribbons of cum draped his body. He wiped it off with a rag and fell asleep.

…

At 7am, John’s alarm went off. He yawned, stretched, refreshed for a new day. He got out of bed and threw on tight athletic underwear that helped him breathe down there, grey jogging shorts, and a tight purple running shirt. He put on black socks, and his running shoes.

Walking through the house, he passed the living room on the way to the kitchen. His chair was silent. He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, grabbed his iPod, and left his house.

Even though it was a cool morning, he sweat a lot during his run. He jogged three miles every morning. His stomach wasn’t feeling good. Still upset from the cheese the night before. But that was a problem for his chair to deal with.

It was closer to 8am when he got back to the house, his back, armpits, crotch, feet, and ass were all sweating. He finished his water and came into the house, where he took off his shoes, and, with a smirk, dropped his jogging shorts. His underwear had dark patches of sweat around his ass crack and crotch. He walked straight to the living room, ready to relax in his chair.

Briefly looking at the face in the hole, he noticed bags under his eyes. He thought about asking Ben if he slept well, but remembered that it would be weird for a guy to talk to a chair. Ben hadn’t slept well at all. He never was able to sleep on his back, and hours of the straps digging into his skin made him itchy, and the inability to move made him claustrophobic. He briefly slept for a few minutes at a time, dozing off then waking up again, unable to fall into a deep sleep.

John twisted around and sat on the chair. His tight underwear held in the moisture of his ass crack sweat up against the nose. John leaned forward, scrolling through social media on his phone. He slowly let out a thick and silent fart. It made his swamp ass heat up, and again he heard and felt retching under him. John’s cock tightened.

After a half an hour of aimlessly looking at sensationalized news, John got up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He scrambled some eggs and put them in an english muffin sandwich, each with a slice of ham and muenster cheese. He figured the combination of eggs and cheese would make a wonderful cocktail of gas for his chair to enjoy later.

He went to the living room and asked, “Hungry?”

“Yes sir,” the chair’s voice croaked, sounding depressed.

John went back to the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back with some buttered toast, a cup of greek yogurt, and a banana cut in slices. Feeding was the only time he treated Ben like a person. John looked down at him with a kind smile.

After giving him a glass of water to drink, the chair said, “…I’m sorry John but I feel so stiff. Can you let me out?”

John’s smile disappeared.

“Just five minutes and I’ll get right back in,” the voice was shrill, “Please, I gotta stretch man, this hurts,”

John didn’t say anything. He set the glass down, stood up, and left the room. Ben’s eyes frantically shifted, but he shouldn’t move his head to see anything beyond the ceiling. He heard John’s footsteps come back, and then, to Ben’s surprise, he felt the gurnee lower. He was going to let him out!

“Thank you so much sir,” he smiled, “I promise I won’t complain again for the rest of the weekend,”

John moved the chair out of the way. But instead of pulling the gurnee out of the wall, he stood over Ben and twisted his ear. Ben cried out in pain, his face scrunching up and his mouth wide open. Just what John wanted. John quickly shoved something into Ben’s mouth, and quickly wrapped a strap around the back of his head, keeping it secure around his mouth. Ben couldn’t see it, but he could feel it prying his lips open. He couldn’t close his mouth if he wanted to. He moaned out, frantic. What was going on?

John ignored his cries, and he brought the chair back over him. Then, he reset the gurnee to lift him back up to seat level. Just like before, except this time his mouth was being held open with a spider gag.

The chair continued to moan in fear as John went into the kitchen and pulled out a half pint of chocolate milk. He chugged half of it, then carried it into the living room. He stood over the chair so it could see clearly what he was holding. It’s eyes were wide with fear. It moaned out, unable to make words but the pattern was clear, “No, no, no, no,”

“I told you I would stop being nice if you didn’t keep silent,” John closed his eyes, setting the milk jug down. “Now, you must be punished.”

He turned around, peeled his underwear off his sweaty ass cheeks, pulled them apart, and sat down on the chair.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The chair screamed up John’s ass. John smirked. That had to taste bad. It would take another hour for the milk to do havoc on his system, so he would just have to wait until the real punishment started. John turned on the TV and relaxed.

…

At 11:30, John finally stood up. He looked down at Ben’s face, which was wet with tears, and his eyes were burning red. Despite how horrible the past three hours had been for him, he at least managed to swallow every single fart.

Without speaking, John lowered the gurnee, moved the chair, and then removed the spider gag. The chair didn’t speak. Just like a good chair should act. He then put everything back in place.

John hoped that Ben finally understood what ‘you have no rights” means, and "you belong to me for the next 48 hours”. He looked at the clock and did a quick calculation. 20 hours in, only 28 more to go.

He went into his bedroom and changed into jeans and a plain sweater. Grabbed his coat, wallet, and keys, then left the house. He drove to the grocery store. It was busy around lunch time. He picked up snacks for tonight’s game. Buffalo chicken wings with blue cheese dipping sauce. Nachos. Mozzarella sticks. John grimaced. The milk he drank earlier was making him feel bloated and queasy. As bad as he felt, at least he didn’t have to experience dozens of his lactose farts directly on his tongue. He shuddered at the thought. Even so, he felt reluctant to get all of these cheese products. He shrugged. He always took one for the team. If his friends were over, he’d treat them to all kinds of unhealthy cheese covered snacks. And again, it isn’t as if any of them would have to smell his farts. That was the chair’s job.

He bought a case of generic beer. Then, he decided for himself to grab a six pack of stouts. These heavy dark beers made his ass bloated at night. Since it’s day two, he should bring out the big guns and make full use of his fart-vacuuming chair.

When he got back home, it was a little after 1pm. While he was gone, Ben managed to doze off a bit, only from exhaustion. And boredom. The worst part of this weekend so far was the incredible boredom he felt.

John put everything away, and he left the wings in the oven on low heat. He came back with lunch for the chair. Just a ham sandwich. As he fed the chair, he said out loud, “My friends will be coming around four. I’ve been feeling so bloated and gassy today. Thankfully my new chair will take care of that. I’ll let them out silently, and it will silently vacuum up my farts so no one has to smell them.

The chair let out a whimper.

…

By the time his friends came, John had changed into sweatpants and a loose comfortable sweatshirt. Matt and Hugo gave him bro hugs, and they all walked toward the living room. From their view, the chair was plain as ever, a normal looking seat, unremarkable and not worth looking at twice. John had already set up the nachos. They all grabbed beers, John opted for his bottle of stout. He sat down in his chair and relaxed, taking a deep swig of the bottle. The three of them chatted about work, Hugo vented about his girlfriend, they watched the game and talked about stats, they munched on nachos, they made dirty jokes. John felt his stomach cramp a bit, and so he carefully let out a silent stream of gas. It felt very hot, and it warmed up his butt and the seat of the chair. The heat went away quickly at least. The chair was working. John smiled.

Later, he got up to bring in the wings. As he got up, he smoothed out the sides of the chair to fix any suspicious indentations. For a split second, the seat seemed to be in the shape of a human face. But neither of the friends noticed, because, well, why would anyone pay attention to a chair? In the kitchen, John pulled the wings out of the oven. His stomach still felt sick. The milk from earlier was still bothering him, plus the new addition of nacho cheese. The beer wasn’t helping, and if he dipped fried chicken wings into a cheese sauce…He closed his eyes. It would be very hard for him to hide his gas. But he had to be a good host.

The night went on, and the more drunk they got, the louder they got. They laughed, they cheered. John was so comfortable in his seat. He slowly let out what felt like the hundreth fart of the night. Again, he felt his ass warm up. And again, he felt the slightest nudge underneath him.

“Dude should you be eating all this cheese?” Hugo asked.

Matt laughed, “Oh yeah, doesn’t this shit give you like mad farts and stuff,”

“Hah, yeah,” John shrugged, “To be honest I’ve been farting into my chair ever since I sat down.”

They all started laughing. He went on, “Seriously, it isn’t even like a bunch of farts, for the past hour it’s been one long stream of gas. I’m still letting it out.”

Hugo was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t worry, my chair’s been absorbing it all,”

…

After the game ended, they sat in the living room, chatting some more. Finally, it was nearing 10pm, and they decided to head out. “You wanna come out to Nico’s with us?” Their favorite bar.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve been exhausted I think I’ll just watch some TV then head to bed.” And he genuinely was feeling sick to his stomach.

He saw them out. Then he returned to the living room and stretched. He saw that he forgot to adjust the fabric the last time he got up, and so the indentation of a face was clear on the seat. John was surprised that none of them had noticed. His dick was getting hard. He walked over to the chair and took the fabric off. Ben took a gasp of air.

“Thirsty?”

“Yes sir,” he coughed.

He went to get a glass of water. He wanted to congratulate Ben on a job well done. Five hours worth of farts went completely unnoticed because of him. But it would be strange to thank a chair for doing something it’s supposed to do anyway. And it isn’t as if a chair would feel something like pride in being a fart absorber.

After giving Ben some water, John sat back down. His eyelids were heavy. He watched the TV some more. He realized he was falling asleep. He got up, went to the fridge, and pulled out the fourth bottle of the night. Not a whole lot, but enough to make his body feel heavy. He got an idea. He was trembling with excitement, but he couldn’t think about it too much or the plan wouldn’t work. He opened a drawer and took out a roll of duct tape. Back in the living room, he set the bottle on the table next to his chair. Then he pulled out a strip of duct tape, and used it to cover the mouth in the chair. Then, he turned around, and slowly lowered the back of his sweatpants. His hairy ass hung out of his pants, and he slowly sat down on the chair, adjusting so that his hole was over the nose as usual. He yawned. He drank the beer and watched the TV, lowering the volume. After another hour, without trying he fell asleep.

…

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that Ben realized, with horror, what had happened. That John had fallen asleep with his disgusting unwashed asshole against his nose. Without being able to open his mouth, he had to breathe through his nose, which meant he had to take in his stink with each breath. The weight over him made it difficult to breath as it was.

When he first farted, Ben thought that John was awake. The fart made his eyes burn, and he gagged against the duct tape. Then he realized that John was completely asleep, and that he just farted in his sleep. They were soft, but thick and hot and swampy. The combination of lactose, beer, and deep fried foods, made the stink beyond atrocious. Another fart seeped out of John’s ass. Ben gripped the sides of the board, and wiggled his feet, and tried shifting his body around. There had to be some way to turn his head to the side so he didn’t have to suffer it. But everything had been planned out too well. There was no escape. The asshole was providing him his only air, and so it was the only thing keeping him alive through the night.

…

At 7am the next morning, the alarm in John’s room went off. He could hear it from the living room. He had a bit of a headache, and his mouth was dry. He saw the TV was still on, low volume. The morning news. He drifted in and out of sleep for a bit.

Almost half an hour later, he opened his eyes again. He felt sweaty. Uncomfortably sweaty. It was warm in this room, and the sweat clothes were really making him sweat. He knew his hairy ass was coated in sweat, and the face pressed up in his ass crack also felt uncomfortably hot. John smiled. He couldn’t imagine how horrible the night had to have been for his chair. He grunted and let out a beastly morning fart.

PPPPTPRPTRPTRPTRPTRPTPPSSSS

Yep. Definitely a beer fart. He felt shifting underneath him. Good, his chair survived the night. He stayed there for a bit so the chair could absorb the gas.

He stood up, peeling his cheeks off the face, and yanked the duct tape off. The chair cried out in pain, and then started gasping. John ignored the noise and walked to his room, his ass still hanging out, red marks from where it had been rubbing skin all night.

He took off his clothes, went into the bathroom, and took another shower. Again, he kept his ass out of the curtain. He thought it must have looked funny from an outsider perspective; a man taking a shower with his ass sticking out.

Usually he went for a run, but he wasn’t feeling good. His stomach was still a wreck from the night before. Only 7 more hours of fun. He didn’t put on a shirt, but he did put on a pair of basketball shorts.

He went back to the kitchen and made a bowl of oatmeal. He fed the chair without speaking to it. The chair didn’t say anything, it greedily ate the oatmeal off the spoon. Even though John knew it would make him feel worse, he poured himself a bowl of cereal with milk. He brought his cereal into the living room and ate it while watching the news from his chair. His stomach hurt in the next half hour.

SSSPPPPPPPRPRPRRPRPRPRR

The fart was painful, and sounded ugly. John cringed and held his stomach. He wanted to take one of his emergency gas pain relief pills, but that would probably stop his gas for the rest of the day. He only had 6.5 hours of fun left with his chair, and he wanted to make it happy. So he bore the pain, and pushed out the next fart.

PPRRTTRTRTRTRPTPRTPRTPRTPRTPRPTRPTPRTP

The chair was working overtime to suck in these farts. John was surprised he still felt and heard gagging underneath him. You’d think after so much time, the chair would get used to it by then.

A wicked thought came to John’s mind. He’d had it before when he first messaged Ben, but he didn’t take it seriously. But he thought, what if he just decided to keep his new chair, and ignore any previous arrangements. Of course the thought was just a fantasy, he couldn’t actually do that to Ben. But it made his balls tighten.

…

He didn’t do much the next couple hours. As usual, he watched TV, and unleashed his upset-stomach farts into the seat of the chair. He couldn’t imagined what they must have smelt like. And thanks to the chair, he would have no idea.

At lunch, he just had a sandwich. He fed the same type of sandwich to the chair, and gave it water. Then, he sat back down. He watched reruns. He yawned. It was pretty boring to just sit in a chair all day, but he wanted the chair’s last hours to be full of farts and ass stink.

The clock eventually struck 3:30pm. Only 30 more minutes. The chair had done a fantastic job today. Unlike yesterday with all of its shaking around and moaning and speaking, the chair was completely quiet, and barely moved. It didn’t matter how loud or long or rank the farts were, the chair silently took them in. Again, as John’s heart was pounding, he pulled his pants down and sat back on the chair with his bare ass. He felt the tongue wiggle up his hole immediately. He started to jerk off, his throbbing cock large in his hand. His balls felt swollen. He knew he was going to cum soon, so he had to make it count.

He tried imagining what it was like for his chair the past two days. How endless the assault of farts must have been for its nose. How uncomfortable its body had to be in the straps. How it had no way of knowing the passage of time, and could only see, feel, and smell the ass that was resting on it. How bad his ass stunk from the farts and from not washing. And how the chair licked his asshole without protest.

He felt a fart and ripped it onto the tongue and into its mouth.

PRRRR

The tongue recoiled for a moment, then kept going.

John came. His asshole clenched over the tongue that was rimming him.

He settled down, his heart beating, and feeling light headed, as the tongue kept probing his asshole. The clock read 4pm, but he spent a few minutes relaxing in the afterglow.

“Alright then,” John sighed in disappointment, “Time’s up.”

He stood up. Ben let out a sigh of relief. John lowered the gurnee, and moved the chair out of the way. Then, he pulled the gurnee halfway out. He undid the hoses and tubes around Ben’s privates. Then he pulled the gurnee out. Ben looked pale, limp, and miserable. Especially in his eyes, there was such misery and exhaustion. His cock was rock hard.

“I don’t normally do this to guys,” John said, “But you deserve a reward for being such a good chair,”

He dropped his pants, and straddled Ben, lowering his asshole over his face, smothering him. As he sat on Ben, he watched as his body buckled around. John grabbed Ben’s rock hard cock, bent over, and took it into his mouth.

Ben had been rock hard for so long, that he felt his dick was sensitive enough to go off at the slightest friction. At least, that’s what he thought would happen, if he had any physical stimulation while he was down there. It only took him a minute to erupt cum into John’s mouth. He moaned into John’s ass.

Then, John stood up and undid the straps. Slowly, Ben moved his joints around. When John got to the headboard and undid the strap and posts, Ben cracked his neck loudly. Like a sloth, he tried sitting up, his full body was fatigued. Red lines from where the straps were raced across his skin.

“Well…how was it?” John smiled.

“That was fucking horrible,” Ben muttered.

“Oh,” John frowned, “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you hoped it would be.”

“Fuck off, where’s your bathroom, I need to shower.”

…

John drove him to the train station that evening. In the car, just before Ben left, he said “Well, even though you didn’t like it, thanks for helping me live out this fantasy.”

“Whatever,” Ben’s voice was low. He got out of the car and headed for the train.

…

On the train ride, Ben looked depressed. He thought through everything he’d experienced. How badly John’s farts stink. How uncomfortable it was to be strapped down. How humiliating and disgusting it was to relieve himself in a hole in the wall. His full body was exhausted and stiff with pain from laying on the board for so long. And John didn’t even have the decency to let him stretch once. He remembered how boring it was to just lay there quietly, passively taking farts to the face, and then staring up at the ceiling when he was away. He had constant headaches from exhaustion and the pressure of John’s body. He felt underfed and cranky from the small bland meals John made for him. And worst of all, he was constantly nauseous when John farted into his nose. His throat hurt from so much coughing and gagging. And when the farts were very bad, he would jerk around and the straps dug more into his skin, making it burn.

He’d turned down going with his friends to a bar that weekend for this. He’d chosen to spend two days of his life like this. He felt so dirty and pathetic. And embarrassed. He had been so excited to try out bondage, and his fart fetish, only to hate both in the end.

That night, he was laying in bed, and he thought about John’s ass, how bad it stunk, how gross it felt sweating on his face, how the hairs clung to his nose and made it itch.

Despite how much he’d hated the experience, his cock was rock hard. And cocks usually don’t lie.

He called John.

“Hello?”

“Hey John, it’s me. Ben.”

“Oh…hey. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I loved it so much.”

“Really? You sounded so mad after I let you out,”

“Yeah but…” Ben couldn’t explain, “I can’t stop thinking about your asshole.”

“Oh well I’m flattered, haha,”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?”

On the other end of the line, Ben heard John laughing.

In the Speed Dating Booth

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

…

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

…

Kevin came into my room frantic, his face red

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

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

Since back in high school, “yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you like farts.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I felt my cock twitch in my pants.

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

PPRPRREPRPRERPERTI

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I asked, “How are you feeling?”

He whispered, “Scared.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I went through another sock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Way ahead of you, buddy.

…

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

“…that was amazing, dude.”

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

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

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

“That’s great man.” I sighed

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

“Sure.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

Anyone smell pears? 🍐💨🍐💨🍐💨

guys should I really really draw the bunny suit Shake?????? 🤨 I mean if you guys have other ideas… (SHARE PLS I NEED MORE IDEAS IM BRAIN DEAD)

the moment y’all been waiting for (IGNORE HOW BAD HIS LEFT ARM IS OKAY I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE RUSHED BECAUSE I LIKE TO DRAW FAST 💔) teehee I may be blessing many souls and I may be causing many to hit that block button but VIVA LA VIDA LOCA MI GENTE YAYYY 😇😇☝️☝️

yknow what I thought about through almost the entire thing? Wondering if Err would secretly listen to Ayesha, ITS A SILLY THOUGHT BUT WHAT IF ERR LISTENED TO THOSE CUNTY SONGS RESONATED WITH HOT PINK??? Like hello soy una genia ANYWAYS yes yes I am most definitely doing more but I’ll put them up as I finish them, for now, I finished this one (it’s supposed to be the dialogue for the most recent episode I’ve seen MHMM yes yes I still haven’t finished the entirety of ATHF just yet so mwuahahahahahaaa) YEAH THEYRE SUPER FUN TO DRAW WOOOO

this is actually me each time I see Charlie x Pim art on my fyp

GUYYYSSS I GOT AN EARLY BDAY GIFTTTT YALL UGH let me fill you in on this, the thing is, almost a year ago I unfortunately lost my Apple Pencil, because my dog chewed on it AND SOOO I couldn’t draw digitally anymore, so I had to stick to traditional, AND NOWWW I GOT A NEW APPLE PENCILLL so I can go back to digital, but it’s been a while so I got to get used to it again T_T BUT YEAHHH y’all get ready because we are going digital soon (obv I won’t stop traditional because I love it too much to let it go)

A NORMAL SHAKE EDIT??? WOW?? Hi guys yesss yesss it is I, back again with a typical normal edit BUT the catch is, I don’t see anybody editing OR drawing Shake in this scene, like THE PART WHERE HE POINTS HIS MIDDLE FINGERS TO HIS MOUTH WHILE HE STOOK HIS TONGUE OUT? I thought people would like yknow “💡ding!” ya know BUT SIGHH I guess not, anyways yes that’s all 😋

WAZZAAAAAAAAAA

hi gang uhm after a week of me fading away I have now faded back and I am indeed on track ☝️and so I will feed you guys with silly doodles which aren’t many but I guess it will make enough for the time I have been gone WELLLLLLLLLLL HAHHHHH 😇

I will get to the REAL doodles soon after, take the silly doodles that are most silliest TEEHEEEE also I still think about the Shaketopia ep IDK HELP

I actually did these between yesterday and today so THEYRE RECENT OKAY THEYRE RECENT also yeah I got bored off just pencil today so I used the pen 🙏 there is a few more, I left them for last because they’re… SOMETHING ELSE. Take these in the meanwhile

I’m holding back I want to draw Mad Scientist Frylock UGHHHH somebody lock me up before I draw it out

the quality is wacky but shhhhhh shhhh you see it in perfect quality 4K…

ANYWAYS here’s this little thing I doodled out on Freedraw :3 (also I half assed Shake okay)

GUYYSSS GO EASY ON MEEE GO EASY ON MEEE i haven’t doodled randomly digitally for like a year so, YEAH but yes a bit of my silly persona because I’m her, she’s me, we are one, she is just me in the digital world and art world yassss YAYYYY random doodles and stuff yeah 🫡🫡🫡