Without Mercy

By: causticblast

PART 1

“Ziegler! Are you on the way?”

“Hang on, Mei. I’m suiting up now. My ETA is going to be about twenty minutes.”

“Hurry!”

Mercy clicked off her communicator, giving a short exasperated sigh. True to her word, Angela Ziegler was just squeezing into her endo-suit, the tight, form-fitting spandex-like custom garb that she always wore under her iconic Valkyrie Suit.

She had received the distress call from Mei only a few minutes earlier. Mercy, being the only Overwatch agent currently stationed anywhere nearby, was now getting ready to respond. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what Mei was trying to accomplish at this remote Ecopoint facility. She didn’t bother to ask; the mission was intentionally off-the-grid, and besides, she wanted as little to do with Mei as possible. All she could gather was that there was promising climatology data in some on-site modules that were still functioning, and that Mei would have to fly in personally to take care of it.

At the time, Mei had insisted that she would need no support; this was a purely scientific mission, after all. Angela had even offered, despite their history of “professional disputes,” but she declined. So of course, when the all-too-familiar distress call tone came ringing, she couldn’t help but think, I told you so.

Mei had already contacted her twice now after her initial distress signal. Between all the passive-aggressive remarks, Angela managed to pick up the fact that she had seen some suspicious activity, possibly Talon agents, and that the exits were on lockdown. Best she could figure? Mei had gotten herself into a self-inflicted mess and was too proud to admit it, so she was hiding behind needless passive-aggression. Why would Talon be involved, anyway? They’d been quiet for months now, presumably still regrouping after their last attempt resulted in the loss of much of their manpower. They’d be wise to stay out of sight…and they’d be idiots to show themselves so soon.

The blonde healer gave a large sigh. Mei, though irritating, was an important ally, and there was no question she’d rescue her. It wasn’t like she could just abandon her. Yes, partly because she felt honorbound to her teammates, and she would bear massive guilt if Overwatch lost a key agent due to her own negligence or pettiness. But…also because Mei was an expert wielder of the “innocent girl” card, and she could somehow always klutz her way into sympathy. If Mercy was somehow involved in a nasty accident, people would eventually come to the conclusion that favored Mei. Angela realized that’s probably why she mentioned Talon in the first place: to drive home the fact that an inadequate response could hurt Mercy’s image badly. Her own role as top field medic was invaluable, so hopefully she wouldn’t be terminated outright…but why take the risk?

Grabbing her trusty staff, she began to take a quicker pace in her footsteps, moving towards the Valkyrie hung up by the door of her quarters. As she unlatched it from its securing harness, she caught a glance of her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. Turning, she took a moment to admire her own appearance; she was already deep in her thirties, and she couldn’t help but feel like she had barely aged. It isn’t vain or narcissistic to admit that, is it? she thought to herself, running her eyes over her pale blonde hair, her sharp facial features, and of course, her figure, accentuated by the tight, breathable endo-suit. No, certainly not. I’m allowed to feel good about myself. She took another few seconds to examine her build. Her breasts, slightly compressed by the special fabric, were filling out the suit nonetheless, and her hips could surely draw looks, if she was ever the type to go out in anything as form-fitting as this. A brief memory flashed her back to a party two years ago when, after more than a few drinks, she swapped outfits with D.Va on a dare. The looks she had gotten in that spandex…Yes, I’ve still got it, alright. 

As she turned back to the Valkyrie, however, Angela couldn’t help but catch a blemish in her own self-image. Below the striking curves of her breasts was another, more modest curve – her stomach. As she unconsciously rubbed a delicate hand around it, she immediately heard and felt a strong gurgle inside her, a sensation she unfortunately was not new to. She had been constipated for several days; personally, she felt she could blame the local food. She was an experienced global traveler, to be sure, but she’d never had digestive troubles like this. Things were ballooning inside of her, and what little moving around she’d done in putting on the endo-suit seemed to have disturbed things substantially. A slight prickling pain snaked around in her guts as she walked back over to her work desk to retrieve something that might help. Hoping that her inflated stomach was just a symptom of her constipation, Angela bent over and dug around her drawers.

PPPRRRRROOOOOOOFFFT

The sudden blast from her backside caught her by surprise, who instinctively glanced at the (thankfully closed) door to see if anyone had witnessed the embarrassing explosion. That was certainly one of the louder farts she had loosened from her ass recently, and as she cautiously sniffed the air, she could also confirm that it carried one of the nastiest smells as well. Yep, definitely constipation. Though the fart sounded like a brassy trumpet call that was more air than stink, Angela’s bowels were currently working themselves into overdrive to digest all the matter gummed up inside. As a result, her guts were a full-on fart factory, and any air that escaped through her shapely rear was going to be twisted into a horrendous odor.

Certain that no one had been around for this recent stink bomb, Mercy squatted slightly, hands on her knees, ready to release another. The last one had barely made a dent in her stomach; it wasn’t until now that she realized just how much she had brewing inside.

PPPRRRRRRRRRRMMFFFFFFFFTTSSSSSSSS–”Ack!”–PRRRSSSSSSSSSSSS

 “Oh, dear God…”

Halfway through this one, a hefty dose of the horrid stench worked its way into her nostrils, causing her to reflexively cough to get it out, severing the fart for a split second. Though it started out with a wet ripping noise, the second half of this fart was almost silent, carrying with it a powerful heat and even more powerful stink. The thin fabric of her suit did virtually nothing to filter the smell, letting the nasty sulfur punch right through. Her office was a spacious one, yet the air was quickly becoming extremely polluted by her own emissions. There was no use trying to waft it away from her nose. She began trying to breathe through her mouth, which immediately turned out to be a mistake. The air itself tasted wrong and awfully thick. Before she could restrain herself, a coughing fit burst out of her.

PRROOOFFT PRROOGLLGL FRRRRRTT PPPRRRRRRTT 

Unfortunately for the air quality in the room, each cough forced sudden spikes of pressure into her abdomen, causing a minor barrage of farts to escape her asshole, synchronized with her coughing. Each blast threw out more vile stench, lasting less than a second but definitely guaranteeing several more minutes of prolonged torment for the air filters.

PRPRPPP PRRRRRRFF PPRRROOOOOMPT

Painfully holding back on both ends, Angela managed to recover, straightening up her posture. She had to wipe a few tears from her eyes, which she wasn’t quite sure if it was a reaction to the vigorous coughing or the ungodly smell. The area of the endo-suit around her ass was intensely warm and far too damp to be comfortable, but she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it now.

“One last one,” Angela muttered to herself, not quite sure if it was only going to be one. She was, at this point, equal parts disgusted and impressed at the limits of her own body. Her stomach still showed no signs of deflating, and she couldn’t exactly spend the whole day pumping farts into the building air. Pressing her palm to her face to avoid retching at her own gas, she bent over, gripped the edge of her desk, stood on her tiptoes, raised her round ass high, and pushed.

ppttt….ppRRPRPRRRFFRFRFRPFRRPFRFFFfffsssssssssssSSSHHHHHH

Oohhhhhhhh……agh, mein GOTT! Her sigh of relief was quickly cut off by the sheer olfactory torment she had just inflicted on herself. Every breath suddenly became burdensome and heavy. This was horrendous—frankly verging on a chemical weapon at this point. An odor like this shouldn’t be medically possible, and indeed if she had smelled something like this in someone’s room, she’d immediately suspect a gas leak in the facility and would never have even guessed it could have been human flatulence, let alone from one person.

She needed a moment to modulate her breath and collect her thoughts. She couldn’t exactly air out this abomination into the hallway, so she’d have to endure her own stink for a little while, before she could finish getting ready to deploy. She kept to shallow breaths to avoid another coughing fit, holding her bent-over posture with her ass pointed in the air, wondering if she could afford to blast another one.

She had to admit, it felt amazing to let them rip. The powerful vibrations through her cheeks, while her insides deflated and slowly relieved their pressure, was something she had found herself enjoying. She blushed slightly, a bit embarrassed to admit to herself that she was finding pleasure in blasting such obscene sounds and smells from her ass. She was just glad she was alone.

Once things had calmed back down, she began looking through the drawers again until she found what she was looking for: the small container she had received only a day earlier. High-concentration psyllium extract tablets. She had only taken one so far; thirty-some more rattled around in the translucent white plastic bottle. Surely, it was far too early to say whether it was effective or not. But she knew that one of the side effects was increased flatulence, and, well…if the side effects were kicking in already, and with this kind of intensity, then shouldn’t the intended effect kick in soon too?

She pondered taking another tablet. She knew the dosage in one was somewhat higher than what one might prescribe at a typical clinic; this was intentional on her part, because she had decided she’d take one a day, to make things easier.

PPRPRBRPRPPRRFFFRFRFFRRFRFFFFT

“Ohhhh…”

Her communicator pinged, signaling another incoming message.

“Mercy! Come on!”

She adjusted her posture, straightening up as if Mei was in the room, trying to reclaim some dignity as the toxic fumes swirled around her. “I’m working on it, Mei. Hang in there and stay out of trouble until we arrive.”

“There’s going to be trouble if I don’t get help soon!” Was…was that a threat? She honestly wasn’t sure.

“I’m working on it,” Angela repeated. She clicked off the communicator in irritation.

She glanced over at the Valkyrie Suit again. What a bitch. Mei had more than her share of abusing and belittling Angela, even when she wasn’t abusing her personal distress call system. She joined the Overwatch initiative to save lives, dammit, not play nanny to some stupid girl who still plays childish games like a bully in a schoolyard.

Her gut gurgled in a timely complaint. An idea flashed into her mind – a thoroughly horrendous, repulsive idea. An idea both immature and sadistic, yet…it would certainly be effective. An idea that reached quite far beyond the limits of her own vows of virtue, and – she thought to herself with a laugh – would possibly violate the Geneva Conventions on a technicality.

BRRRRRAAAAAPPPRPRBBPRB

No, she decided, wafting a hand over her nose. How torturous that would be for Mei, and how morally repugnant it would be for herself.

…She’d keep it in mind for another day.

---

“The wires are all set,” Widowmaker declared in her usual breathy, accented voice. “Is the bait ready?”

Sombra smiled devilishly. “Just about ready.”

She was still beep-booping along on her personal interface, but she knew she was close. While she worked, she couldn’t help but sneak several hungry glances towards her companion. One would think working together for years would make the lustful thoughts go away after a while, but boy, was that wrong. It sure didn’t help that Widow had very little shame when it came to walking around their base quarters in underwear – why would she? She had such a breathtaking figure – and, to both Sombra’s enjoyment and dismay, was known to drop some nasty farts every once in a while.

FFSSHSSssssSHhhsssssSSSSHHHT

“Ooh, I’m bursting at the seams,” the Frenchwoman teased, her pale derriere opening up to drop a stealthy hiss. “We’ll have to hurry this along before I start gassing ourselves instead of the icy wench.”

How delicious that would be, Sombra thought to herself. She took a few surreptitious sniffs of the air, trying to catch whiffs of Amelie’s silent release. There was ample stink, and she suppressed a reflexive cough, the smell of rotting fish and egg invading her airways. It felt poisonous, almost like it was threatening to suffocate Sombra from inside her own lungs. Silent but deadly: how fitting for the biologically-enhanced assassin that she was.

Sombra had always derived erotic pleasure from flatulence, and frankly she still couldn’t believe this was happening. This little torture plan against Mei started out as a half-joke, which Widow had initially rejected as churlish and disgusting–which was no surprise; Sombra never really thought it would get anywhere anyways. Talon needed to lay low for awhile, keeping activity to an absolute minimum to avoid garnering too much attention. But after Moira suggested some biohacking to their digestive systems to amplify gas production, it became a viable option. Harmless, with no real lasting damage…other than the psychological scarring it would no doubt inflict. They all agreed that it was highly unconventional and probably uncalled for, but Moira was happy to take a break from her projects for once, and Widow eventually decided this was acceptable by her standards of sadism. So things moved forward, and Sombra was ecstatic about the opportunity.

And now, by some freak chain of events, here she was, trapping herself in a tiny, practically airtight room with the gas-enhanced backside of Widowmaker, getting ready to unleash massive quantities of ass fumes on a poor unsuspecting Overwatch agent. Just being here was enough to get her crotch damp.

It sure didn’t help that her co-conspirator looked unbelievably sexy in the pale, dim emergency lighting of the room. Her long, luscious hair was tied up in a tight ponytail, as always. Her sharp face glinted with thrill, an expression Sombra was familiar with from their missions together. A sly smile creeped into it, and when she looked at Sombra, a slight shudder ran down her spine. Then she ran her eyes down her partly exposed chest, her incredible waist and hips, slowing to admire her amazing ass– irresistible double globes, shifting side to side with every step of her slender legs, the crease between them running deep. Perfectly toned with just the right texture. Here was her weapon of choice today, and goddamn if Sombra didn’t want to rush right in and stick her face right between those seductive bubbly cheeks, squeezing her stomach full of farts right into her nostrils and moaning for more.

How devastating that would be for her reputation in Talon; how terribly embarrassing of a reveal that would be. Sombra, the enigmatic cyberterrorist, the master manipulator of data networks in an age where information is currency–hiding unbelievable blackmail-fodder herself. She sighed. Everything can be hacked…including the hackers themselves. Ay… It’s only fair, I suppose.

As she stared absentmindedly, clearly lost in thought, another terrible wave of Amelie’s stench came rippling into her face. She turned to see her thin blue lips curl upwards in a coy, almost seductive smirk. “Careful with my venom mines, Sombra,” she teased, watching Sombra’s facial expression shift.

Goddamn. She could feel the warm SBD suffusing the room with an awful, eggy smell. The gas was so thick, she felt herself struggling a little to get enough oxygen rather than sulfur. It was a delicious sensation, and she had to stop herself from taking deep, conspicuous breaths, instead savoring tiny whiffs that tickled her nose.

Her own belly was fluttering, too, and not just with butterflies. Whatever infusion Moira had given the two of them last night was surely working its magic. At first, Sombra had been concerned that her system might not handle it well; she knew that she was already a very gassy person, something she very much appreciated about her body. She also had to admit that the recent spike in eating more junk food gave her farts a more powerful, trashy stench. So when the details of the plan were being discussed, Sombra honestly wondered how much worse her ass could get.

BBRBRRLLMRRT

 “Ahh…You’re not the only one with ‘venom,’ Widow.”

But now, she was thoroughly enjoying the gurgling in her stomach. Her ass felt like it was holding back an absolute torrent of nasty farts, and it was practically begging for a face to be buried two or three inches deep, waiting to savor every single one spraying right into her victim. She wasn’t as sadistic of a type as Amelie, but when it came to vicious, explosive farts, the emotional manipulation and domination was right up her alley.

BRBRBRRBRBLLLTTT

A sharp, tangy smell hit the two agents as Sombra farted again, a fart as bubbly as her own round ass. There was a powerful kick to the odor, a spiciness that no doubt came from her diet. She sniffed the air around her and gave her volatile backside a ringing smack before fanning her most recent blast towards Widow playfully.

Not one to be outdone so easily, Amelie lifted one hip slightly, raising one foot on its toes, to let out another hissing fart.

pphrhhrrssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh

This one was longer, and faded out more slowly. The way it started seemed to accentuate how tightly clenched her asshole was right now, pushing back against massive farts she was straining to hold in, and this one was just another teaser of the toxic storm that was about to come. More of that terrible rancid stench filled the room, whose air filtration systems had been shut down by Sombra several minutes ago. This was going to be their torture chamber, and the very air itself their torture instrument. Or, for Sombra, an aphrodisiac…

Merely a moment or two later, Sombra finished hacking into Snowball, their bait. The little drone would hover away from Mei and right into their lair, and if Mei was as simple as they were counting on, she would follow right behind. Widowmaker’s cables would snare her, then all they’d have to do is lock her into position. Then, all the colossal farts they’d been brewing and fermenting for hours upon hours could be released right into her nose and mouth, as much as they wanted, tormenting Mei in a way that no one would ever believe if she told them.

Tingling with excitement and arousal, Sombra hit the toggle, shutting down Snowball’s AI and taking over the movement controls.

“Here we go.”

It was remarkably easy to manipulate the little robot’s movement. Oddly enough, it didn’t come with traditional optics like she’d expected, so Widowmaker was to be her eyes and ears, watching on the various security cameras that she did have access to.

“Yes. Good. She’s following it. Straight down this hall, then left when I say.”

“Can you hear her outside?”

Widow placed an ear on the metal doors to the room, and listened. “Yes. She’s not far.” She was bent over, again showing off her beautiful rear to Sombra. She had to right herself and avoid piloting the drone directly into a wall, her mind distracted while resisting the urge once again to get on her knees and shove her own face directly into Amelie’s delicious cheeks.

“Left. Now.” Widowmaker whispered as she suddenly pulled back from the door and pinned herself against the far wall. Sombra somewhat clumsily followed suit while switching direction of the drone and moving it directly towards their room.

As they waited for Mei to fall into their trap, on the other side of the wall, they could hear her cursing in pursuit of the little weather drone. “Snowball! Where…where are you trying to go? Why are you…come here!“

The reinforced door opened just as Snowball came within arm’s reach of it. Sombra had, with both skill and some luck, timed it perfectly: Mei was practically mid-leap in what she assumed was a safe lunge towards the solid door to grab Snowball out of the air. Instead of grabbing the little hoverbot and leaning against the metal surface, however, she tumbled right into the sudden open space, landing face-town on the hard floor.

“Who…what the hell is…Gah! Let go!”

Sombra watched in glee as her companion made quick work of their victim, doing justice to her arachnid theme as she tied the girl up in a bundle of knots and loops of fine yet firm cables. In less than a minute, the climatologist’s arms were outreached and immobilized to either side of her, with her body uncomfortably suspended at an angle by cables attached to the ceiling, her legs similarly suspended, and one loop of cable around her neck to limit her movement options there as well. Sombra savored the fear in the girl’s eyes as she placed the finishing touches on Widowmaker’s handiwork: a generous strip of tape to cover her mouth. Loosen up, amiga. You’ve got a lot of pain ahead of you.

---

Amelie Lacroix was no idiot.

Nearly a decade of work as a highly trained and literally cold-blooded assassin had sharpened her wit. Many assumed that this cold, calculating mind only emerged through the sacrifice of her emotions, applying the prevailing notion that feeling impedes thinking. An observant person, however, would know that the sadism and cruelty exhibited by the woman known as Widowmaker implied an intricate understanding of human emotion. Widow wasn’t emotionless, far from it. She was full of feeling, of empathy, even. How else would she know to hit her enemies where it hurt them the most? To manipulate feelings, she had to first experience them.

Her career had also sharpened her senses. Reading between the lines of human expression was part of the job description. Even the most well-practiced individuals could be betrayed by their body language and mannerisms, revealing their innermost thoughts, even for just a flash. Joy, surprise, anger, disgust…and yes, arousal, perhaps the most easily-detected emotion of them all.

So when she had her earliest suspicions regarding her co-conspirator and her odd proposal, she monitored Sombra carefully. Tormenting the infuriating ice girl was merely a side attraction to the main reason why she chose to go along with this plan in the end.

Before she was Widowmaker, Amelie was a dancer. She knew what her body had to offer to an observer. She knew how her figure, her curves, her movements could elicit certain…responses in others. She knew to watch for breaks in observers’ willpower, to hone in on those lapses in judgment. And when she saw a shattering of Sombra’s willpower the moment she slid her hips in her direction and released an utterly disgusting fart, she knew that she was going to torment not one, but two women today.

And in Sombra’s case…it wouldn’t just end at today. Moira asserted that their special treatment could be reproduced numerous times with ease; Widow made sure to ask about that. Basic training and waiting was getting much too drab. She needed new prey, and Sombra would be the perfect target for weeks to come.

For now, however, she had a task at hand.

“Well, look at that. An icy fly trapped in a web.” A sinister laugh rung out as Widow reached for the door panels, sealing the three of them in. “You have been quite the pain in my side. But today, we get to have our fun.”

She watched as Mei’s eyes widened in fearful anticipation. “Oh, no, you simple thing. We’re not going to kill you. Not today, anyway…where’s the fun in that?”

“But you’re probably going to wish you were dead by the time we’re done,” Sombra said, putting a hand over her stomach.

Widowmaker turned around so that her ample butt hung right over Mei’s helpless face. A soft, muffled, but confused whimper came through her tape gag.

“Let’s test these ropes, shall we?”

Gently, the purple assassin lowered herself, and stopped when she felt the climatologist’s nose tickling her rear exit. Immediately, she heard Mei gag under the tape.

Widow chuckled. “Already choking? And we haven’t even begun serving the appetizer.” She clicked her tongue. “What you’re getting now is just the leftovers from a few minutes ago. And we’ve got a full course prepared for you…”

Mei seemed to understand what their plan was, and she shook her head back and forth, trying to deny her fate. Widow, unimpressed, simply sat down firmly on her features until Mei’s cheeks were pressed right up against her buttocks, and her nose was buried as far as it could possibly go.

Sombra gave her a look of modest surprise. “Must be really bad down there. She’s not having a good time.”

Widow paid her no mind, instead gyrating her hips slowly to grind her victim’s nose even deeper. A timely gurgle in her lower guts signaled that she wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.

“Do me a favor, ice girl, and try not to pass out too quickly.” She closed her eyes, savoring the moment the same way she’d savor the instant before pulling the trigger on her rifle. “This spider likes it when her victims squirm.”

sshshhhhhHHRRPPPPBBBRRRRRRRMMMRRRT

And just like that, the floodgates opened. Widow had positioned herself perfectly. With nowhere else to go, the stench of a whole harbor-ful of rotting fish mixed with deathly sulfur blew deep into Mei’s airways. The thickness of the assassin’s ample buttocks made it almost impossible to suck in any outside air, and Mei immediately began thrashing and convulsing.
Widow grabbed the cables behind her and maintained her posture, keeping herself pressed firmly against her victim. She could feel Mei’s panicked breaths heating up her asshole, and a tingle rose up her back as she indulged in the sensation. She licked her lips, feasting on the stupid girl’s suffering. Wanting to take her time, she casually glanced at her nails — impeccable as ever — while waiting for Mei’s breathing to slow and settle down. Once the initial panic had subsided, and the fart had fully taken its course through her airways, Widow unleashed another foul blast.

PPPLLRRRrrrrmmmmrrrRRRBBPPBRRT

Instantly, Mei twitched and quivered in pain as another dose slammed her senses. Her cheeks inflated a little when this one blew through her nose, almost overwhelming her. These farts lacked warmth, likely due to the assassin’s altered physiology. The room-temperature sensation made it feel as though more of it could fit into her lungs at once. Again, Widowmaker sat calmly atop her prey, idly gyrating her hips while Mei sputtered and choked on her stench. A wicked smirk grew on her pale purple face, taking the time to savor her victim’s pain. It took longer this time for her to recover, and Widow waited another two breaths before pressing her fingers into her gut to push out yet another devastating fart full of raunchy gas.

sssshhhhhRRRRAAAAOOLLLLRRRPPT

Right on cue, Mei contorted her body in desperation once again. Widow was thoroughly enjoying her rodeo ride, feeling the stifled groans and screams reverberate through the tape and into her juicy ass. She knew it was a terrible ordeal to be underneath her at this time, as the leftover stink that Mei was unable to sniff up was beginning to tickle her nostrils.
With each fart, Mei could feel her resistance weakening already. It was the equivalent of being punched in the face: the initial, sudden shock as the gas hit her, followed by a lingering pain that made her whole head hurt and her ears ring. By spacing out her farts with several seconds in between, Widow was perfectly maximizing that lingering torture, the aftereffects of inhaling a nasty bout of gas. The horrid stench was left to fester in her mouth and nostrils, slowly suffocating her lucidity.

Sombra, however, didn’t quite see it that way. “You’re going easy on her,” she noted with a hint of disapproval.

Widow rolled her eyes. “I am playing my part to the fullest. You can do it your way when I am finished.”

“Oh, no. I’m not waiting for you to be completely done with her. I want to feel her struggle against my ass, too.” Sombra crossed her arms. “If I wait until you’re done, she’ll have nothing left in her.”

Widow made a face at her in retort. “Unfortunate.”

Sombra summoned her fingertip computer and tapped a few holographic buttons. “I’m setting a timer. Ten minutes. Then we switch.”

Widow sighed, annoyed. “Fifteen. Then we have a deal.”

Sombra adjusted the timer. “Fine. But if you’re not off of her by the time it rings, I’ll just use your face instead.” Which would still be incredible, she thought to herself. I wonder if that would get her to “retaliate” on my face?

Widowmaker gave her a quick death glare, as if to say, go ahead, try, if you dare. But she sighed again, then looked back to address her seat. “We’re going to have to pick up the pace then, girl. Try to keep up.” She adjusted her posture one last time, feeling for her victim’s wide-open nose and putting it in position.

“Or don’t. I don’t really care.”

pprrrrrrRRRBBBRBRBRPPFFRRRRrrrsss

SssssshhhhRRRrrrrpprrt

HHRRrrrrrssssssssshh…

FffffffrrrrmmmmmbbrrrRRRPPPLLRRRLLGGRRT

“MMPPHH! HHRRGGH!”

No more delicate pauses to wait for Mei to suck up the residual gas, no more reveling in the prolonged torment. She was determined to make these fifteen minutes count, every second of them. And she was sure to make that clear to her victim, who was now being pummeled with a barrage of hissing farts, each one hissing venomously into her helpless nostrils and suffusing her whole mind with its toxic aura.

Sombra’s eyes widened, unable to believe the spectacle before her. Mei’s face was barely visible with how deep Widow had shoved her into her big round ass; Sombra could not even begin to imagine just how bad the gassing must be. Between those supple, soft cheeks was a fart factory that was fogging up Mei’s lungs shamelessly. Sombra put a hand over her nose and mouth, pretending to protect herself from the stench but in reality just trying to keep herself from whimpering with desire.

HHPPPPHHHHRRRFFFFRRRrrrrggrrgrrrllBBBRRRT

FFFFRRRRAAUUUUAARRLLT

BBBRRRRP

PPRRRRRRrrrrfffsssssss

Sssssssshhhllrrrrrpprrrrrt

“Hnnng…nngck…”

Mei strained against her cables to no avail. Her strength was fading fast, and her nose was given no quarter. She could feel herself being filled up with horrendous farts faster than she could exhale it, only intensifying the concentration of the disgusting gas inside her. Her breathing was no longer under her own control. Widowmaker owned her lungs now.
Widow hadn’t quite realized just how much gas had been backed up inside her, but now she was thoroughly enjoying herself. These farts flowed into each other, her asshole now finding a delicate rhythm so that she could unload several farts in a single push, crescendoing and building into the next.

Ppprrrrrfffrrt

FFFRRRMMMOOOUURRRRRAAAARRRGGRRGGRRT

PPPRRRBBRRAAARRRLLLLGGGRRGRRT

PPRRRrrrrffrrssssssss…

Widow’s ass was absolutely merciless, giving Mei barely any time to even gulp down her nasty gas before unloading another lungful. Widow’s mouth hung open in an expression of pleasure and satisfaction. She could practically taste the excess gas rising up between her legs and infiltrating her own breathing, but the sheer ecstasy of the unending torrent of noxious gas streaming through her asshole outweighed any discomfort from smelling her own stench. If anything, it sated her inner sadist. This smells terrible…I cannot imagine just how torturous it must be for the bitch underneath my ass…

From the sidelines, Sombra pretended to watch the holographic timer in her hand, but was truly just marveling at the spectacle before her. Her inner fart fetishist was dripping with joy just by being in this small room with them. Part of her wanted to be Widowmaker, while part of her wanted to be Mei. It took some effort to keep her hands off herself as she turned to access the security cameras in this room. Eager to capture this experience for later, she quietly zapped them back to life and began streaming the feed to her cybernetic data drives.
Taking a sidewards glance at Sombra, Widow mentally took note of her licking and biting her lip. Come on, ma cherie…you can hide your desires better than that, she thought with a chuckle.

Using her well-trained sense of balance, Widowmaker took her hands off her knees and leaned back even further, slowly adding weight onto her victim’s face until she was sitting firmly, her feet lifting up off the ground and delicately crossing her legs. Mei’s whole upper body was painfully crushed under Widow’s full weight, with the cables digging into her skin. She was now not only a fart sucking cushion, but also a hammock for her captor. The new pain clarified her mind and awoke her from her hazy stupor…

PBPPPBBBBBRRRRAAAAARRRRRRRPPPSSsssssss

“GGHCK!”

…which only intensified her olfactory torment as Widowmaker unleashed fart after fart into her nostrils.

“How much longer do I have?”

Sombra jumped a little in her seat. “Auh, about three minutes.” She projected the timer out in front of herself to show Widow as it ticked past 02:50.

“Not a moment to waste then.”

BBPPPPRRRFFFRRRR—

Without another word, the next two minutes and forty-five seconds echoed around the cold metal walls with nonstop farts, billowing ceaselessly from Widowmaker’s big round remorseless buttocks. It was enough to make even Sombra wince a little at the sheer brutality; true to her word, Widow left barely a second between the end of one fart and the beginning rumbles of the next. The only other sound was Widow’s soft moaning as the foul wind blowing through her shapely rear brought her immense relief and pleasure.

The timer beeped its completion, and Widow got up abruptly, looking back at her victim. Mei’s whole face was wet with tears and sweat; the dense, odorous cloud surrounding her head was formidable by itself. Widow put a hand behind her and felt the crack between her enviable buttocks. It was warm, which was surprising; her emissions were typically not much warmer than room temperature, owing to her modified anatomy. But evidently, she had passed so much gas that they had cumulatively heated up her pants.

Mei snorted and retched, desperately trying to cleanse her lungs to no avail. It was impossible. The ambient air in the room alone would be enough to make someone gag, let alone whatever vile toxicity remained inside her airways. She tried to tongue her way out of the tape on her mouth, but it was similarly futile. Her head hung back in defeat, still struggling to breathe.

Widowmaker stood back and stretched, admiring her handiwork. Her lips curled into a cold, satisfied expression of sadistic pride. This was exhilarating. She could get used to this.
“What are you waiting for?” She turned to her colleague. “Fifteen minutes. I’ve softened her up for you — try not to kill her, I want a second round.”

Sombra didn’t need direction. She practically pounced, butt-first, on Mei while her guts gurgled and groaned with the unbelievable pressure built up inside. She wriggled side to side, trying to find where her nose was. Unsatisfied with the arrangement, she grabbed her buttocks with both hands and squeezed them apart, widening the crevasse between and rubbing her stench into Mei’s face. Mei whimpered weakly in response, powerless to stop it. Once she could feel her nose packed squarely in the center, Sombra let go of her cheeks, feeling them lightly slap together. Mei’s sole oxygen source was now trapped once again, rammed against her gassy hole with no recourse.

“I’m starting the timer,” Widow said. “Get on with it.”

“With pleasure.” Sombra closed her eyes, felt the pressure pounding at her asshole, and then pushed, ever so slightly.

ggrrrRRRRPPGFRRFFRRRRGGRRRHFFRRLLT

“Kkrrck..!”

Mei’s brain jolted back to life as a completely different, but no less horrendous, smell suddenly washed over every inch of the inside of her nostrils. She immediately began trying to thrash and buck around, but her restraints merely reduced her to shaking and quivering.
“Ah, good. You’ve still got some fight in you. Keep that up, cariño. I’m sure you’ll get me off eventually.” Sombra chuckled, then wrapped one hand around one of the cables to get some leverage.

PPRRRRGGGRRRRRRRLT

PPRRRFFffffrrrggrrmmRRRRRRRRRRLLRRFRRT

Though wholly unhelpful to her at the moment, Mei’s senses nonetheless picked up on a handful of differences between her two captors. The most noticeable was the fact that, while Widowmaker had an unnaturally cool temperature to her foul backwind, Sombra’s farts were already superheating her whole head and neck. This warm sensation gradually flooded her whole entire body, and it almost felt like the vile stench was enveloping her from head to toe. She also became aware of a growing moisture, likely sweat — though whether it was more of her own, or it was Sombra’s incredibly thick ass growing damp, she wasn’t sure yet. She didn’t really want to know.

That was another key difference as well: their body types. Widowmaker had the figure of an acrobat or dancer, and though her derriere was still very curvy, it had a perkiness and firmness to it. Sombra felt different. She felt heavier, and the asscheeks covering her head right now felt softer, doughier, like she was sinking into them more. They engulfed her on either side, almost entirely covering her ears. Mei hated that she could notice these subtleties of being facesat so thoroughly.

Last but certainly not least, these farts stung. If Widow’s gas was toxic poison, then Sombra’s gas was a corrosive acid. A thousand needles pushed themselves into Mei’s nostrils and throat, burning her with a distinctive spicy kick that accompanied the deep, earthy stink. If her lips weren’t sealed shut, she’d be coughing madly to no avail.

Sombra, meanwhile, was still resisting the urge to dip her fingers between her legs. The way Mei’s nose was stuck so deep inside her thick ass, the way she could feel every little fidget and squirm and sniffle and lurch — it was exactly what she had been thirsting for. And the way her stomach was churning away, a constant reminder of the unstoppable flood of scalding hot farts to blow into Mei’s despicable little face? That was almost too good.
Remembering how Widowmaker had pumped farts practically nonstop into Mei, Sombra took a deep breath in and prepared to push out a devastating barrage.

pprrrBBRRRrrt

…ppppppbbbPPPPBBBBBRRRFFFRRRRBBRRRRRRROOAAAAAUUUUUUUOOOOOOORRRRRRLGGGGGRRRRRRRBBRRRRBRRRPPT

“Nnghh…Hooohh…”

Sombra playfully wafted a hand in front of her nose after a unleashing truly behemoth fart. She had intended to bombard her fart cushion with a series of bursts, but instead, she had managed to string them all together in an ungodly blast that visibly inflated Mei’s lungs, lasting at least twice as long as anything Widow had managed. It was one of those deceptively powerful farts that started as a feeble leak before it suddenly exploded, almost like a second fart overtaking the first.

Mei was instantly filled to the brim with hot, steamy stench, and her own guts were turning at just how vile they smelled. A disgusting cocktail of the two Talon agents’ foul gas had mixed into something that felt like it had suffused itself into every pore of her face.
Light streamed into her blurry vision as Sombra lifted herself off, peering down at her with a hungry expression on her face. “Hope that wasn’t too much for you to handle, weather girl. But even you have to admit, that one was impressive.”

Mei could say nothing, the tape still firmly around her mouth. She wanted to cry, or maybe scream, or maybe run away, or maybe kill these two. But she couldn’t do a thing, other than try not to make eye contact as Sombra looked at her. An impossible volume of gas threatened to explode from her tortured lungs.

“Damn, I’m good. Widow, look — I think I can see my farts leaking out of her nose.”
From the corner of the room, Widowmaker merely smirked and pointed to her timer. “Clock’s still ticking.”

Sombra groaned. “Ay, what am I doing? These are valuable seconds I’m wasting.”

And just like that, Mei’s brief respite was over. Sombra was back on top, her doughy buttocks swiftly finding their place wrapped around Mei’s nose. Mei could barely find the energy to protest.

“How long do I have?”

“Almost twelve minutes. Take your time, please.”

Sombra scoffed. “Like hell I am. I’ve barely started.”

Twelve minutes?! Mei was screaming internally. She’d been hit with the biggest fart she had ever witnessed in her life, come close to suffocating, and it had only been three minutes?

PPRRRFFRRRRRRRRT

FRRRRRMMMMMRRRRRT

PPRROOOMMPPT
…
…

ggggrrlllrrgggGGRRRRRPPPPPPPppppppprrrrrrrrRRRRRBBBBPPBBBBBBRRRRRRMMMMMRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRPPPRRROOOOOOOUUUUUUURRRRRFFFFFFFRRRRRRRPPPPRRRRPPT

Mei barely had time to think on that any further before Sombra filled her lungs to the brim again. Multiple farts seemed to chain together into a monstrous blast. This one was even longer: Mei was struggling to even fit all that gas inside her, twitching as her lungs felt like they were about to explode, by the time Sombra was only about halfway done. The rest of whatever couldn’t fit inside Mei, spilled out into the immediate vicinity. She could feel the powerful winds blowing past her nose and all over her eyes, cheeks, and forehead.

FFFFfffrrrroourrRRT

…PBBBBBBPPPPBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPRAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMRRRRRRPPPRRRRT

“Aaahhhhh…”

…

PPRRRRBBBBRRRRRRPPPRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRLLLLLLRRRRPPPBBBRRRRRBBBBT

“Oohhhh!”

This was, apparently, Sombra’s style. Her burning-hot farts did not come one-after-another like Widowmaker’s gassy assault, but instead came in slow, spaced-out waves, occasionally culminating in a huge fart that threatened to suffocate Mei entirely and single-handedly destroy her from the inside out. Each one of these unnaturally massive farts was a test of willpower and endurance, and each time, Mei lost a little bit of herself to the stinging fumes. She gasped for any air she could find, trying to stabilize herself before the next wave of gas pulled her under.

BbbpppPPPRRRBBBBbbrrrrrmmmmRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRPPPpppprrrrrrrfffrrrrrrrffffFFFRRRRRRRRRRT

“Ooohhhhh, that was really good…”

Sombra was panting by this point, for two separate reasons. One was that it took some effort to push out such devastating farts in one smooth motion, and she had to regulate her breathing somewhat. But the other reason was that she was way too fucking horny. The stink hung thick in the air around them, tingling her senses with both Widow’s toxic sulfur and her own distinctive earthy aroma. Still trying to be at least a little subtle about it, she took in the fetid odors through both her nose and mouth. Her thighs quivered with glee, clamping even more tightly around Mei’s head, while her asshole was continuously stimulated — from both her endless farts, and Mei’s desperate breathing.

“Hhhhh…so good…”

If Mei wasn’t being used as a pressurized fart receptacle, she might have noticed the slick dampness collecting down where her chin met Sombra’s intimates. But she was fading fast. The pain of these brutal farts prickling every part of her nose, throat, mouth, chest, and stomach as they blew into her was the only thing keeping her from slipping away.

She barely noticed when an alarm went off and Sombra finally got up. A long, satisfied sigh became audible as Sombra’s hefty cheeks rose off of her. Her thick buttocks, now slick with sweat and tears, gave a loud shlap as they pulled off of Mei and Sombra adjusted her pants.
Mei’s nose — and indeed, her whole face — burned from the past half-hour of gas-based torment. Now it was finally freed from their prison, but she could hardly tell the difference. There may have been nothing pressing down on her head from above, but the rotten, spicy stench was still hovering around her, having filled the room the same way it saturated her airways.

Defeated, Mei hung loose in her restraints, trying to clear her mind and lungs of this foul smell. It felt as though her body was about to give out completely. She had never in her life considered the possibility that she could inhale so many farts that she’d pass out, but it seemed like it might happen soon. If anything, she welcomed the sweet release of unconsciousness.

Widow sauntered over to her captive position, suddenly reminding her that Widow mentioned going for a second round. Even now, she had some doubts that either of the Talon agents could possibly have any gas remaining in their systems. They must have emptied their tanks by now, surely. Fifteen minutes each of nonstop, consecutive farting. It had felt like an eternity. That had to be the end, or at least near the end, right?

…Right?

PART 2

“I think you’ve earned a quick break before we resume. Get comfortable.”

Widow walked a slow circle around Mei like a vulture around its meal. She loved to savor moments like these, where her sadistic side was being satisfied and nothing was going to change that. Mei was as helpless as ever, and she could still feel gas churning away inside her. Mei’s slow and labored breathing, however, was beginning to irk her. She wanted to snuff out her victim’s strength with the sheer power of her farts, which wasn’t very fun if she had no strength in the first place.

Widow reached down and pressed on Mei’s chest with one firm hand. Mei felt herself forced to exhale, and her nostrils burned a little even as the air was coming out of her. Was that…

“Ooohh…You were right, Sombra,” Widow confirmed, waving a hand in front of her. “She’s so full, she’s farting out of her nose. Impressive.”

Sombra scoffed as casually as possible, raking her fingers through her trademark combover. “Psshh. I guess I can’t take all the credit here.”

Widow smirked, the corner of her mouth rising along with her eyebrow. “Who said I was giving you all the credit?” One hand traced the curves of her hips, slowly and sensually, before grabbing a handful of ass and pulling it aside for a whizzing SBD.

FFFRRRRRSSSSSssssssssshhhhhhhh…

So that answers that… Mei thought with a gulp.

Widow noticed her reaction. “Oh, did you think I was empty?” Her breathy, sinister laugh echoed around the metal walls of the gas-suffused room, mocking Mei’s fear. “Ohh, silly girl. We’ve only just begun. I could do this all night long…and well into the morning, too…”
She brought her face right up to Mei’s, then pushed down on her torso again, harder this time. As she deflated, Mei could feel a gust of warmth blow through her nose as if it wasn’t hers.

Widow flinched slightly. “Every time she exhales…Augh, that stinks…”

It wasn’t until just then that Mei realized just how saturated her lungs truly were with farts. Every breath felt fundamentally wrong. She had thought it was because the ambient atmosphere was horribly tainted. But as Widow forced air out of her, she began to think that the stinging sensation in her chest was not from inhaling toxic gas, but rather, failing to exhale enough of it. With such vile stench fermenting inside her, it didn’t matter whether she was taking shallow or deep breaths; it was going to be hard to displace it out of her system fast enough.

Widow turned herself around, her long legs taking position on either side of Mei’s torso with swift ease. Straddling Mei’s body, with her well-defined ass hovering right above, she chuckled.

As she slowly crouched down, her dark purple bodysuit straining against her curves, Mei squeezed her eyes shut. Fear struck back into her whole body, but it was significantly dulled by her lightheadedness. At this point, she just wanted it all to fade to black as soon as possible. A break may have sounded nice, but it was just prolonging the inevitable.

“A quick break,” Widow repeated. “I’m still going to sit on your face, but I’m going to hold back my farts for now. That sounds fair, no?”

She didn’t give her a chance to respond, tape gag or not. With vicious force, Widow slammed her pale derriere down onto Mei’s not-quite-recovered face, cutting off her air supply yet again. She had no intention of making this easy for her. Mei whimpered weakly, the sound muffled and barely audible through all that ass, though Widow certainly felt it against her skin.

After several agonizing seconds of suffocation, Widow picked her ass up to provide Mei with another breath, still tainted by the thick farts hanging in the room. Hearing her desperately sniffing for air through her nose gave Widow an idea, but she held back for now. For this nauseating torture to last longer, Mei really did need time to recover, at least a little. Widow gave her another few seconds before cutting her off again, her big round cheeks engulfing her face with ease.

Sombra watched curiously as Widow did this for a few more cycles: asphyxiate with her supple buttocks, provide a quick breath or two, and then bring her ass right back down. In between, she could see Mei’s struggling facial expressions, her eyes begging for an end to all this. Her legs were still kicking and shaking, though with considerably less strength than when they first started farting down her nostrils. Her immobilized hands balled into fists instinctively whenever Widow came down particularly hard on her face. It was a thoroughly enjoyable sight, alongside the added olfactory stimulant that was the very air around them. The stench of rotting fish, swirling sulfur, a caustic sting of onions and spices, and rich, starchy undertones all came together to make every breath just a little bit difficult – in the best way possible.

Though her own asshole felt a little raw from bombarding their victim with so many massive farts in a short timespan, Sombra was still itching for more. She admired her colleague’s restraint; if she had been the one sitting on Mei right now, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold herself back from allowing a few more wicked blasts to soak into her seat’s face.
She admired other things about Widowmaker, too, as she watched. Her eyes started at the top, the pale lights glinting off of Widow’s sharp jawline, which framed a flawless pair of lips that were curled into a succubine smirk. Sombra felt a shudder run down her spine as Widowmaker looked over her shoulder down at Mei and ran her tongue across her lips, hungry for more. Sombra’s gaze fell to Widow’s breasts, which, while not as large as her own, had the right kind of curves that made her want to feel them in her hands.

Then, of course, was her ass. Sombra swore there was no angle that could possibly make that ass look any less than perfect. Two round, juicy, plump curves that wobbled against each other just right, inviting the gaze of anyone nearby. It seemed no matter what kind of pants she wore, some fabric was always getting caught in the crevasse between her buttocks. And when they were rippling and vibrating from the sheer force of constant, devastating farts exploding out of her, leaving a trail of hellish sulfur behind her? Fuck, that was incredible. Sombra’s legs threatened to give out under her as her mind drifted deeper into a state of self-gratifying arousal.

“Alright, playtime is over,” the pale assassin suddenly announced. “These farts are becoming unbearable inside me. I hope you are well rested, ice girl, because there is another storm coming.”

Sombra raised an eyebrow at her co-conspirator as she rose, taking her ass off of Mei. She was about to ask her to do something, but Widow was one step ahead of her.

“This time, let’s do it properly. You deserve to have these farts – how do you say? Ah – straight from the tap.”

Mei felt a newfound sense of horror as the assassin peeled off her pants, revealing a pair of sheer, see-through black panties underneath. The sight was hardly the first thing on her mind; rather, it was the pent-up smell of poisonous farts that had been trapped behind the tight fabric, suddenly drowning her. It was as if she had been keeping her head above the surface for several minutes, thrashing but still breathing, and the sudden release of stored-up residual stink in Widow’s skintight bottoms had plunged her head under. She hadn’t even unleashed another fart yet, but it practically smelled like it.

Off to her side, Sombra stared in amazement, warmth spreading to her face. “Is that…lingerie.”

“Yes, and it’s coming off too.” Widow began stripping off the thin black undergarments, working just slowly enough to drive her Talon colleague wild, but not enough to be accused of putting on a show. She threw the delicate lacy panties aside with a flick of her wrist. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sombra smoothing out her own clothes, clearly trying to keep her hands busy.

“…Why?”

“Why not?” Widow stretched leisurely, grabbing one cheek with her hand and looking back behind her shoulder. “It’s comfortable. It’s thin. It’s…breathable.” She chuckled, then dropped her buttock, letting it wobble back into its place.

Fuck, FUCK, that’s…! Sombra’s knees almost caved as she felt herself getting drenched between her thighs. She could practically feel her arousal dribbling down her legs as she watched Widow’s juicy ass, now completely bare with not an inch covered, jiggle and quake hypnotically with every movement. Her breathing quickened, accentuating the residual stench that she took in with every breath, which only tickled her arousal further. Oh God…This is incredible…So hot…So fucking hot…

Widow, meanwhile, had turned her attention to her seat, which she was preparing to torment with raw, unfiltered farts. Sombra’s sexual cravings were painfully obvious, and Widow was thoroughly enjoying seeing her struggle to contain herself. But at the same time, she really wasn’t kidding; the venomous pressure inside her guts was swelling to intolerable levels, almost feeling like a solid mass just behind her sphincter. She needed to let these farts out soon, one way or another.

One last time, she lowered herself onto Mei’s face, making sure to capture its features perfectly within the confines of her smooth, round buttocks. She counted to thirty, making plenty sure that Mei had no air left to breathe. All according to her plan, Widow then sharply rose from her seat, knowing that her victim had no choice but to inhale with sheer desperation.

Taking advantage, Widow grunted and immediately bathed Mei in several seconds of a silent but extremely deadly fart, hissing through her cheeks with a hellish odor that even made herself retch. Her eyes watering from her own raw stench, Widow looked down to watch how Mei would choke on this fresh batch of long-fermented gas. To her disappointment, however, Mei was all tuckered out, her eyelids open by just a hair. The only sign that she had noticed Widow’s last rancid fart was a brief disrupted rhythm in the weak rising and falling in her chest.

“Ugh.” Widow absent-mindedly rubbed a hand along the curvature of her backside. “She missed one of the best ones yet. She’s fading, Sombra.”

“Huh?”

“She’s on the verge of unconsciousness.”

Sombra swallowed before speaking, her hands fidgeting even more now. “Uh, what do you want me to do about it? You’re the one sitting on her.”

Widow rubbed a hand on her chin before replying, “I think it’s time for the tape to come off.”
She turned and bent over to grab the strip of tape on Mei’s mouth, but immediately stopped herself and put a hand over her own mouth and nose. She gagged once, then a second time, then a third. Bending down had brought her face closer to the cloud of vile gas that had just burst out of her butt, and it was almost too much even for herself to handle. “Merde…Agh, my ass is truly despicable today…”

Sombra watched, an incredulous expression fixed on her face. “Too strong for you?”

Widow wafted a hand in front of her and groaned again, recoiling. “Too strong for anyone. I don’t blame her.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to ease up now. I would hate to–” Sombra’s eyes widened, and her sentence was cut short by a new sensory stimulant. “Oh…Ack, that’s…Okay, I get it, that’s really bad…”

That earned a hollow laugh from Widow. “I’d tell you to keep your distance, but there’s no escape here.” With one hand still cupped over her face, she grabbed the edge of Mei’s tape gag and tore it off in one fell swoop. “No, Sombra. I am not going to ‘ease up.’” She placed a finger on Mei’s chin and lifted it slightly, locking eyes with her. “Unfortunately for you.”
The sting of the tape being ripped off jolted Mei’s eyes back open and into full awareness. She found herself able to breathe through both her mouth and her nose, which allowed enough oxygen to reach her brain again, bringing her back to lucidity. Unfortunately, all accessible air was now tainted with farts, and Widow’s most recent expulsion was still very thick around her face. She choked and sputtered, struggling against her bodily restraints.
“Ack! This is…not right…What…What did you…Hhck…What did you even eat!?”

Widow ignored the question. “Ah, good. I was beginning to worry.” As she turned to present her ass, she continued, “Still lively enough to kick and scream. Let’s smother that out of you once more.”

“Please…no…N-no, PLEASE! I—HHGMMPPH!”

Mei’s cries fell on deaf ears as a pair of firm, pale-purple buttocks came back down onto her face for the millionth time, plunging her into darkness. This time, however, her mouth was left somewhat exposed. As she gasped for air, she heard Widow’s sinister laugh mocking her.
PPPPPFFFFFFfffffffffffffsssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrtt

Without warning, another vile, silent fart flooded Mei’s nostrils, instantly plunging her senses into a sulfuric hellhole. As she instinctively tried to suck down air through her mouth, she found remnants of Widow’s foul ass blast leaking out through her lips, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. The amount of gas being forced out of her mouth, however, was still nothing compared to the volume that made its way down her nasal passages, sinking deep into her lungs. Without the tape gag, she was no longer getting pressure-cooked by horrendous farts; instead, she was being fully fumigated, helpless to the gas suffusing through her very core. It ran through her system utterly and completely, finding a new dimension to her struggle. There was no longer a risk of losing consciousness, no more hope of fading to black to end her misery. She was now just a fart filter: it comes in through the nose, festers in her lungs, and the rest goes out through the mouth.

ffffFFFFRRRRRPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPRRRRRRRRT

PPPPPRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMGGGRRRGGGRRRRRT

“PphAAAHHHhhck…! Ffffuuuck, fuck, no, no, no…Please…!!”

Mei sputtered out a few groans and pleas as Widow’s volatile ass continued to spew violent, raunchy farts. In response, Widow merely tipped her head back, rearing in glorious, sadistic laughter. She reached back and grabbed a handful of Mei’s hair, grinding her whole head even deeper, if that was even possible.

PPPBRRBBBBRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrfffffssssshhhhhhhht

Without any pants or panties to filter the stench at all, Mei was taking these rotten blasts of gas completely raw, her nostrils practically kissing Widow’s asshole. And with every fart rushing into them, she swore she could feel the stink rising into her brain, poisoning her to the core. All of Widow’s sickening eggy sulfur was suffusing her entire body, inside and out.
PPPPPBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPT

It didn’t take long for Mei to start gagging and heaving. Her mouth remained open, leaking excess fart stink as the fetid fumes could not possibly all fit inside her passageways. But the reactions were getting more violent, and even with the restraints locking her in place, Mei’s whole upper body was jerking enough to throw Widowmaker off her rhythm.

“Please…Hnggh…!…GLCK!…I…”

BBBBRRRRRRRRRROOOOOORRRMMMPPT

“Hmmmhhhh…What was that, fart sniffer?”

Mei retched again. “HHLCK!…I…I think I’m going to puke…”

Widow sneered. “Don’t you dare.”

“How…What…How am I supposed to—“

PPPPPPBBBBbbbbbrrrrrrrrmmmgrrrrrr—

With yet another roaring ripper, Widow’s ass cut off her pleas, ignoring her desperate attempts to fight the nausea and lightheadedness that were rapidly returning. As Mei’s jaw hung open like an exhaust pipe, billowing excess gas, the pale assassin found it much easier to pump her nostrils full of her noxious farts. It didn’t matter that a single, violent release from her ass was too much for Mei’s weakening lungs to handle; any overflow would just leave through her mouth, defiling her taste buds. Widow closed her eyes, tilting her head back to savor the cacophony of her face-shredding gas and Mei’s inconstant screaming and groaning. In moments like these, her nose wasn’t even bothered by the toxic miasma they had created. The sadistic pleasure blocked that all out.

Sombra, meanwhile, was now sweating and panting heavily, her crotch well past the point of what could be described as “wet.” She was powerless to the primal hunger inside her, and every few seconds, she had to consciously move her hands away from her breasts and her inner thighs as they drifted towards her desires. But it was impossible to ignore the scene unfolding before her, providing a spectacle more erotic than any porn she had ever consumed (which was saying a lot, given just how much time she spends trawling through the internet). The only other stimulus to focus on was the swirling hurricane of her own farts building in her guts, which was absolutely not helping matters. Sombra cursed herself under her breath. She hadn’t realized the struggle that would ensue from trying to keep herself together while her greatest fantasy played out in front of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath — ah, fuck, that smell is NEVER coming off these clothes — and counted to ten as she exhaled slowly, trying to calm her overexcited brain.

Everything is fine…just don’t think about…

Another deep breath.

Ugh, fuuuuuckkk…don’t…don’t think about…GOD, it’s impossible…

Eyelids fluttering. Swallow some drool.


Amelie’s ass…she took her fucking pants off…

her ass is a goddamn MASTERPIECE…

Those lacy panties…imagine how much they’ve been irreversibly tainted with her venomous farts…

Her mouth hung open. She had to concentrate to close it again.

Mei’s moans and sputterings…suffocating from all that face farting…

Right in her face…Ugh, why can’t that be me?…

Two shallow breaths. It didn’t matter: every ounce of air came with three ounces of ass stink.

It’s thick…It’s rich…What the fuck does Amelie even eat…So eggy…and meaty…and…is that…the wine?

A slight expansion pressing against her asshole. Her guts bubbled and churned.

AGH!…Ooooh…Oh, but the rest all came out of me…


One hand fell back behind her to give herself a playful squeeze on the cheek.

Fast food…Grease and cheese…peppers and onions…

Hah, like it ever matters what I eat, I’m a fucking fart factory over here…even without Moira’s help, I can hotbox any damn room anyday…

Her other hand was on her breast. A mind of its own.

Fuuuuck…!

Her attempt to turn off her sex drive was futile. Everything was just too fucking perfect. Everything except for the fact that she couldn’t touch herself as long as there were others in the room.

Miraculously, Widow appeared oblivious to Sombra’s frantic internal struggle. Her face remained delicate and tranquil, a calm smile denoting her pleasure, careless to the violent gagging and groaning below her that steadily weakened in intensity. Her ass, in stark contrast to her upper body, had been relentlessly gassing the poor girl. The barenaked skin-to-skin, coupled with the accumulated sweat and tears, turned even her usual silent-but-deadly hissers into rumbling rippers. Though the farts themselves were not so wet, the fluids so close to her ass often made countless micro-bubbles that burst against Mei’s face, sending chainsaw-like vibrations that reverberated off the metallic walls.

Also miraculously, Mei somehow hadn’t thrown up yet. Though by the looks of her, that didn’t mean she was doing particularly well. Throughout Widow’s steady bombardment of sickening farts being blown into her airways, she had very quickly stopped trying to speak or even scream. Whatever noises came out of her gaping mouth was completely involuntary as her body struggled to keep up. An inconstant, slowly-weakening sequence of snorting, moaning, coughing, and hacking punctuated every gaseous release storming her nasal passageways.

Widow looked proud of herself. “Even with her mouth open, she’s no match for my…widow’s kiss,” she said, standing up and casually wafting a hand behind her bare buttocks. “Give her a few minutes to recover. She needs it.”

Sombra, glad that the dim lighting hid her bright-red blushing, gave Mei’s near-lifeless body a kick. A feeble groan came in response, but there was little fight left in her.

The pent-up stench was getting even stronger, much to Sombra’s delight. The sight of Widow, in all her tall, curvy glory, slowly swatting her hand back and forth across the danger zone in front of her steamy ass, was as sensual and alluring as it was comical and pointless. The two of them had thoroughly destroyed any semblance of breathable air in this small space, and they knew it.

Sombra swallowed back some more drool. She was all too eager to contribute to this hellish hotbox with the gassy storm brewing inside her. Every minute passed like syrup through an hourglass. At the first sign of Mei’s return to full consciousness – groaning and turning her head slowly, still barely even forming words – Sombra jumped.

A wicked smile emerged on Sombra’s face. “My turn again. Let me ride you to the end, pendeja.”

“Nnngh…Nnnoo…Wait, just…”

Sombra wasn’t listening. She was already stripping off her tight lycra pants, and her panties came off with them. She had tried to angle herself away from Widowmaker, knowing her undergarments were probably visibly slick with arousal. As she swiftly tossed her clothes aside, she could only hope she was still in the clear.

Whereas Widowmaker had preferred to position herself facing towards her victim’s feet, leaning slightly forward to open up her ass and send farts rocketing right up Mei’s nostrils, Sombra wanted to take a different approach. Facing the other way, she sat on Mei’s forehead and slowly backed herself up, leaning back to find her thick buttocks totally engulfing the center of Mei’s face. Her feet left the ground entirely as she spread her legs, with each of Mei’s immobilized arms on either side tucked under the crook of her knees. Her entire weight was being held up by Mei’s upper body, and to Sombra’s delight, the strain had the unintended effect of speeding up Mei’s breathing.

Mei, still half-lucid, felt a telltale wet spot right between her squeezed-shut eyes as Sombra mounted her face. This fucking psycho bitch…has been getting off to this!? She squirmed a little in disgust, but even that was too much for her asphyxiating body to handle. She felt herself getting dizzy and lightheaded, as if about to black out.

However, the residual stink caught up in the crack between Sombra’s heavy cheeks pricked her back from the edge, as she was once again reminded of Sombra’s scorching hellfire farts. Mei was no stranger to spicy foods herself, but whatever this bitch had been eating was on a completely different level. Already, her nose was beginning to feel runny, bracing itself for the oncoming fumigation.

“I can tell you’re scared already.” Sombra could hardly contain the glee in her voice. “Ooooh, I can feel your fear. Good. Ahah, you’re breathing even faster. Don’t you know that’s only going to hurt you more?” She continued to taunt while playing with Mei’s hair between her thighs, all rustled and knotted from the ruthless facesitting.

It was moments like these that she savored. Her asshole was holding back a tidal wave of hot gas, and with every passing second, the feeling only grew more intense. She could tell these farts were about to absolutely tear right through her cheeks. These were going to be downright corrosive. She knew it. Her victim knew it. All that was left? A gentle push.

pssssssssssSSSSSHHHRRRRBBBBBRRRMMMRRRRROOOOOUUURRRRRRGGGGGRRPPPLLLLPPRRRT

“Aahhh…!”

Sombra opened with a raunchy ripper that nearly blew out Mei’s eardrums. Within seconds, she was drowning in stench again, getting a face full of hot, damp, pungent steam that clung to her skin and overwhelmed her senses.

As she had already experienced up close, Mei found Sombra’s ass to be much bigger and heftier than her companion’s, leaving her entire face numb from the pressure. In this particular facesitting position, she couldn’t feel Sombra’s asshole pressed against her, but she realized that it didn’t matter. Sombra didn’t need Widow’s precision targeting of her nostrils; she was instead just going to dutch-oven her nose and mouth altogether, steaming her whole face under the voracious expanse of her plush buttocks.

“Mmmmnnngh…”

“If you’ve got something to say, then speak up, snow girl. Before my ass chokes you out.”

“Ghhk–! Ahbbh bhhbk grhnnhg–”

PPPBBBRBVRRRRBBBRBBRRRAAAAAAUUUURRRRRPPPPBBBPPT

“Ohhhhh…”

Sombra cut off Mei’s blubbering, clearly impeded by having her jaw stuffed under her weighty posterior and all its cheeky flesh smushed around her whole head. As she moaned with relief, she took in a mouthful of her own aroma, further heightening her arousal.

PPBBBBRRBT

FFFRRRRRRRRPPPRRRRRROOUUUUMMPPT

“HHHNNNGHH! Hhnaagh! Ffrrrck–!”

Under Widowmaker, Mei had struggled to keep down vomit, as the fishy, eggy odor continuously triggered a visceral response that tickled her throat. Under Sombra, however, it was a whole different kind of struggle. The barrage flooding her sinuses wasn’t so much nauseating as it was eye-watering. The snot only added to her strain, agitating her further, perpetually making her feel like she was about to sneeze – only with no relief in sight. With Sombra’s whole weight crushing down on her, it all came together to create a sensation not unlike waterboarding – or gasboarding, perhaps?

PPPBPBBRRRMMMmmssssssssshhhhhhh…

FFFFRRRRBBBRRRT

“Haaaahh…”

Sombra’s teeth were clamped tightly on her lower lip, biting down to keep her moans in check. Otherwise, she wasn’t sure what embarrassing noises or words might slip out of her. She felt her victim’s every twitch or jerk, and Sombra savored the way she was so desperate to free her bonds and escape the intoxicating grasp of her ass – and yet was powerless to do anything about it.

The passageways of the nose and mouth are closely interconnected — an anatomy lesson Mei was becoming intensely, painfully aware of as Sombra continued to dump toxic, capsaicin-ridden farts into her nostrils. As Mei exhaled in her attempts to regain control her lungs, she could damn well taste the burning fart stink on her tongue. Her taste buds recoiled, unable to comprehend why they were being pricked despite Mei not having eaten anything.

“Awww, pobrecita. Is my ass too much for you to handle?”

“Guhhh…”

BBBRRRRRUUUUUMMMMMMRRRPPPHHHRRRT

“MMPH–AAAAHH!”

Sombra loosened another uproarious fart, chuckling. “Hah, that’s funny, I don’t remember this much choking and screaming coming from under Widow. Does this mean my ass stink is worse?”

Widow crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at that. “Pah. Nonsense. You heard her dying under me.”

Sombra, a bit too distracted to think of a witty retort, merely gave herself a ringing smack on one bare cheek. “Hahah, whatever.”

BBRrrrrrppht

Ppprrrrrrroooorrrrrrllllt

…FFFFRRRRRRRRRRUUUAAAAAARRRRRPPPRRBBBRRRRLLLGGGRRRPPRRRRRT

“NNGRRRAAGH! AAAAHH! ACK–”

As Mei failed to clear her airways of Sombra’s acrid fumes, Widow begrudgingly nodded in approval. “Hmm. She is loud. Your farts must be truly vile.”

Sombra giggled. “It’s the spices. They add a little…Hngh…”

PPBBBRRRRRAAAGGGRRGRRLLLPPT

“HHRRK–AAAAGGHHK!”

“Ahh…they add a little kick. I bet that burns like hell going down.”

“KKGhhhgghh…”

“Let me silence her.” Widow took a few steps forward, rubbing her lower abdomen.

Sombra frowned, then as she put the pieces together, her eyelids rose in shock. She could feel her face getting warm again, her horny-addled mind kicking into high gear. “What…what are…What do you mean?”

Widow confirmed her suspicions. “You can keep using her nose. I want her mouth.”

After a momentary pause, Sombra rolled her eyes dramatically, trying not to hint at how much she wanted it. “My ass is too thick for that. I’m not making room for you.”

Widow scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, already beginning to turn around.

“Awww, look who’s jealous that I have the fatter ass,” Sombra teased, wiggling her hips and smushing herself deeper into Mei’s face. “It’s okay, arañita, not everyone can be blessed with a culote like this. You know, maybe you can–”

Sombra froze. For an instant, she thought: Is that…Is she…

Then, she felt it.

PPPFFFFFFFfffffffssssssssSSSSSSSSSHHHHhhhrrrrrrrRRT

Widow had pressed her bare ass right up against the back of Sombra’s head, catching plenty of hair in between her cheeks. Without a moment’s hesitation, she had unleashed a vile poison cloud that enveloped Sombra’s whole head from back to front. An eye-watering smell suddenly engulfed her.

For two seconds, Sombra’s brain completely shut down. When she regained the ability to think, she had to remind herself what the “normal” response would be.

“…Ahh…! Widow, what the fuck…?”

Widow merely laughed. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Make room for my ass to fill up the bitch’s mouth, or I fill you up.”

Sombra was torn. Obviously, she knew what she should say to avoid raising further suspicion about her desires.

But what if she didn’t? How would things play out?

Inside her mind, her imagination spontaneously exploded with fantasies. Pornographic imagery that she’d only seen or read. Now this was a chance to live it. Play the brat, her sex-crazed brain was shouting at her. Resist a little. Make her carry out her “threat.”

And then what would happen? What would she think? Her rational brain replied.

Who the fuck cares! Her base desires shot back. You’re about to be in the golden middle-position of a fart-fuck threesome. Mei’s face in your ass, your face in her ass. You’re already a waterfall just thinking about it.

Ugh, but… She had to force herself to think for a second. But we can do a two-on-one…That would be hot too, right…?

Hm. Her horny side decided it had found a reasonable compromise. You know what, fine, that works too.

Using Mei’s hair as leverage, Sombra shimmied herself a bit forward, sliding higher up to make Mei’s lower face “available.” Widow wasted no time plopping her bare ass down on her gaping jaws, sealing her fate.

Mei sensed her time was up. This position, being caught under two devastatingly gassy asses, had an air of inevitable finality to it. Here was the white flag being waved…As if she hadn’t wanted to give up hours ago.

“Any last words?” Sombra teased. Widow played along, lifting herself just an inch to let their fartcushion speak.

From below, they could hear Mei sputtering, clearing her throat. “Guhh…P-Please…Mercy…”

They shared a vicious laugh at that. “Begging for mercy, now isn’t that funny,” said Sombra.

“Pathetic,” Widow practically spat. “Adieu, foolish girl.”

And together, Widowmaker and Sombra began anew, defiling Mei’s entire respiratory system with their farts. Mei felt herself being practically inflated with their collective stench; with no possible exit, save for a few cracks where their asses failed to form a tight seal, she had no choice but to be stuffed full of horrendous gas. Her throat felt like it was about to chip and crack from Widow’s gassy blowdrying. Her nose had long since resigned, and by now felt completely numb to Sombra’s acrid farts, though that didn’t stop her basic reflexes from twitching whenever Sombra unleashed a powerful stink bomb. Her ears, folded and squished between two eager pairs of buttocks, could barely pick up on their raucous laughter between the nonstop farting. Her brain felt like it was marinating in a landfill, drowning her very existence in their gas, shattering her will to her very core.

Slowly, but gratefully, her mind finally faded to unconsciousness.

---

“Mei?” Mercy tapped her communicator again. “Mei? Mei!” She groaned. “Ugh…”

Mercy had touched down at the facility gates nearly a half hour ago. Finding the gates locked, or perhaps jammed, she had been circling the perimeter on foot for all that time, looking for another way in. The snowfall was sparse enough that she could identify Mei’s bootprints, which stopped at the main gates, apparently indicating that she had gotten inside.

Mei hadn’t responded to any hailings on the communicator since she arrived, leaving Mercy quite worried and admittedly very guilty about her misgivings earlier. At the same time, however, Mercy found no traces of anyone else entering the compound. Hell, she couldn’t even find an access point for herself, so it was quite unlikely that Mei would have encountered hostile forces. Had she just fallen down a hole, or something?

As she retraced her steps along the outer walls of the facility, Mercy was uneasy for one other reason. One big, bubbling, noxious reason.

PPPPRRRRRRRRRRBBRRRBBBBRRRRMMMMMMMPPPPHHHT

“Ach…I swear, they are getting worse…”

Which was saying a lot, and quite frankly, she wouldn’t have thought it possible earlier. The pent-up gas that she released earlier in her office was bad enough to make her question her own senses. Now she was releasing these farts into the open air, which made it much harder to pin down their odor; but she was fairly certain that they had gotten more intense, perhaps more concentrated as a result of her recent dose of psyllium extract.

Out of the corner of her eye, a dim purple light on a door access panel flickered once, then switched off. A second later, the emergency lights on the doors powered back on, signaling some kind of restoration of power.

“Odd…”

Mercy stepped towards the motion sensors, stopping just once to lean over as another quick fart escaped her sphincter. As if nothing was ever wrong, the heavy doors swooshed open. They revealed a vast antechamber linked to two dimly lit hallways. Mei’s bootprints, which were mostly tiny puddles of melted snow, led down the one on the right.

Mercy took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Oops – mistake. God, that reeks, even the short ones. My ass is a menace today…Mei, I swear, if you’ve been wasting my time…

She followed the trail down the hall.

---

“Sombra!”

“I’m trying. I think the cold weather has frozen some of the circuits.”

Widow coughed again. “Don’t tell me we’re trapped in here. Ugh, fuck! I know it came out of me, but damn that is terrible!”

They had outdone themselves. After countless farts billowing from their asses at point-blank range into Mei’s helpless face, Widow suddenly felt the second-hand effects of being subjected to this gassy hotbox. Sombra would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt them, too, but her sex drive pushed her onward despite the lightheadedness and scratchy throat.

At Widow’s behest, Sombra had hopped onto the control console to try and turn the ventilation system back on. The button on the holographic display stared back at her. “HVAC-041: DISABLED. RE-ENABLE?” Another display below it showed that her earlier shutdown of the front main doors had just expired. Whatever. There were other things on her mind.

The truth was, absolutely nothing was wrong with the electronics. Sombra was just loath to undo all their hard work by dumping that gas out of the room and into a set of air filters. So what if she was literally suffocating in her own ass fumes? It was the most stimulating thing she had ever done. She was surprised she hadn’t made any puddles yet.

Meanwhile, poor Mei had been completely unresponsive for several minutes. The cacophony of farts that the two of them had unleashed made it hard to tell exactly when she passed out, but their prey had officially succumbed, and a lot of the fun had been lost.

Widowmaker had tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Agh! Sombra!”

Sombra just shrugged, and then coughed twice for good measure. “Ugh…Nothing.”

“Then I am opening the door. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Wait, Widow, the security protocols–”

“It doesn’t matter. We should be leaving anyway.” Picking up her pants off the floor, Widow rushed over to the exit and slammed the toggle switch before Sombra had a chance to react.

---

Mercy’s guts were churning and gurgling with every single step down the corridor. There was no way she was holding back these farts for much longer. If I don’t find her in the next three minutes, I might be gassing her whether we like it or not… She thought to herself. Oh, and the ride back…the airship doesn’t exactly have windows…

A sudden surge of gas rushed downward. Her colon expanded, past the point of no return. This one was going to be huge.

Ooooh…!

PPPPPPBBBBBBRRRRRBBRRRRRRRRRRROOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRFFFFRR–

At that exact instant, the door right in front of her swished open, and a tall, pale figure rushed out. Even in the middle of unloading a behemoth fart from her backside, Mercy instantly recognized her. Widowmaker! Unnaturally purple skin, long dark ponytail…

Naked from the waist down?

Confusion and surprise aside, it was too late for her ass to stop halfway through. This fart was blowing out of her and she had no say in the matter.

–RRRRPPBBBBBPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLPPPRRRRRLLLLT

Mercy heaved a huge sigh of relief, completely involuntarily, as her face grew warm from embarrassment at finding herself so exposed in front of an enemy. The extra second that she took to compose herself, however, also allowed her to peer inside the room that Widowmaker had just dashed out of.

And what a spectacle it was. Another instantly recognizable figure, the Talon hacker Sombra, stood just a few feet from the doorway…Also bottomless… And behind her was someone unconscious, clearly well-tied into an immobilized position. Someone short and round, with what might have once been a bun of dark hair…

Mei!?

Mercy cleared her throat to diffuse the chaotic tension.

“…Well. What do we have h–”

Mercy stopped dead in her tracks as a dense wall of devastating stench washed over her, slamming her like a truck.

Oh, what the fuck…? That’s definitely not me…

Her surgically precise mind put the pieces together as best as possible. There’s no way. No way they…Did they…No…

So does that mean…

Her lower abdomen gurgled another timely complaint.

Fuck it.

As Mercy gathered her thoughts, her eyebrows stitched in thought, Widow cursed under her breath. “She called for backup. Quick, we have to—“

“Has she?” Mercy interjected, planting a pensive finger on her chin. “Or has she merely prolonged her torture?”

Widow gave her a look of disbelief. “…Wait.”

Sombra gave her a slightly different look. “Uh…Was that…you?” She stammered, referencing Mercy’s unholy fart that rang out down the whole corridor.

Mercy could feel her eyes watering as she nodded. “And I assume this was also…you?” She ventured, wafting a hand in front of her face. My God, I know I’m not one to talk right now, but…What did they eat!?

Sombra needed to pinch herself or something. What the fuck is happening? Am I dreaming?
Widow did the talking for her, thankfully. “…Yes. No sense in playing dumb here. Yes.” She took one step closer to the blonde doctor. “What are you proposing?”

“Perhaps I should demonstrate.”

Mercy pushed past the two half-nude Talon agents and reversed the grip on her trusty healing staff so that the nanobiotic tip was pointing behind her rather than in front of her. The moment she stepped inside the room, it felt like she had walked into a sauna, or perhaps a jungle. Deeply humid, uncomfortably damp air hung thick around her, starkly contrasting with the frosty breeze outside. The accumulated stench in the room had practically created a new artificial environment.

And the smell? Angela almost crumpled to her knees upon taking a shallow breath. The ambient odor instantly worsened tenfold as she crossed the threshold. She dry heaved twice in the time it took to walk ten feet to where Mei was suspended, unconscious.

Nonetheless, there was little time to lose. A monster was pounding at the walls of her intestines. She turned around and toggled the healing switch on her staff, pumping restorative energy into Mei’s still-lifeless form.

Making sure to keep the healing beam focused on the poor girl, Angela doffed the Valkyrie Suit in a hurry, the balloon in her stomach now effectively a ticking time bomb. Removing the suit already made her feel loads better, and frankly she didn’t care about the curious glances from the two agents in the room right now. She had made a decision, and she was going to carry it out.

She reached a hand into one of the pockets of her endo-suit and retrieved her weapon of choice – the small bottle of concentrated psyllium tablets. Without hesitation, she shook a few into her hand, picked two, and swallowed them dry.

Later, the world-class physician would admit to herself that this was in a moment of weakness, and in very poor judgment. Not only was a double dose of such a potent substance highly irrational, she also had no reason to believe it would work within such a short time window. Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for her coworker/victim, the tablets began working almost instantly. Perhaps it was the lack of water ingested with them that pushed them through her system quickly, or perhaps it was the fact that it had been much less than 24 hours since her last dose. Frankly, she would never be sure; all she knew was that it wasn’t placebo, and that she could reproduce the effect again, if she was ever so inclined.
The terrifying bioweapon inside her gut gurgled and groaned, ballooning to impossible amounts of gas. She could feel the tension, her asshole immediately feeling an immense pressure pushing against it. Instinctively, she held back.

The minute or so of constant healing, which Mei had been subjected to against her will, seemed to have worked its magic. As Angela looked down at her, she realized that Mei was now back to her standard mental status; any hint of passing out was now gone, replaced by a sudden clarity that was visible in the way she glared dangerously at Angela. I can surely fix that, she thought to herself. What little guilt Angela had left in her was quickly pushed away by the look of pure hatred on Mei’s face. She had already started this job, and she was going to have to finish it. She turned her delicate asscheeks towards Mei, and backed right into her face.

Mei, having regained her full strength, was not going to take this that easy, especially not from a fucking pushover like Mercy. She wriggled her neck and head as much as possible, and attempted to headbutt Angela’s firm, round ass. She knew it wasn’t going to do much, given just how tied up she was, but she could fight with what she had, dammit.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her neck from behind and thrust her forwards. Another hand found the back of her head, fought against her, and shoved her face right between Angela’s bubbly cheeks. Who the hell—

“I’ve got you,” Sombra said, a smile in her voice.

“Thank you, Sombra,” Angela replied with professional courtesy barely masking her satisfaction and glee.

Mei simply couldn’t believe what was happening. But before she could think too hard on it, a horrid stench filled her nostrils, which were parked right in front of Angela’s asshole. Oh god, what the fuck?! The form-fitting suit did little to hide the shape or the smell of her ass right now, and clearly had absorbed a substantial amount of her recent farts. There was just no way a human being could fart like this. Widow and Sombra had some of the nastiest farts she had ever smelled, but this?…This was literally inhuman. What the fuck did Angela just take? Were those gas pills? What sort of fresh hell was she in for now?

Mei gulped as Mercy’s guts gurgled again, much closer to her face this time. In response, Sombra pushed her head in even further, causing Angela to yelp slightly, then push back against her, wriggling her hefty ass back and forth. The residual stench rubbed deep into her nose and lips as Sombra adjusted her grip, tilting Mei’s whole head backward so that Angela could take a full seat on it, with the added effect of opening up her airway.

The healing ray would amplify Mei’s torture, not only by extending how long she’d last, but also by activating her sympathetic nervous system against her will. Adrenaline was now rushing through her body, increasing her heart rate as well as, more importantly, her breathing rate. She was also gaining an edge in her sensory perception – something that would multiply the stink factor of the barrage of gas she was about to receive.

Angela knew all this, and was savoring every moment of her delicious, well-deserved torment. She pointed her staff directly at Mei, knowing that she’d need it to keep her awake and thrashing. The absolutely terrifying odor that she had released back in her quarters was still fresh in her mind, and what she had brewing inside was going to be undoubtedly worse than that. Her asshole was a dam blocking back a torrent of impossibly horrible farts, and Mei’s poor nose was going to be ground zero.

She thought back to all the times Mei had abused her. The countless times she had pushed her buttons, sometimes literally, calling on her for help and then acting like she didn’t need it anyways. The times she had left her to fend for herself while she encased herself in that stupid ice cocoon. And on top of all that, she would always play the “innocent girl” card when she was confronted, and everyone would suddenly have pity for her.

All these memories growled and slithered around her gut. She distilled them down, concentrating them into one single sensation.

Then, she pushed.

PPPPPPBPBBBPBBBRRBRRRRRBBBBBBBBPPRRRRRRPPPRRRRRRRTT

The floodgates were open, and a loud moan flew out of her lips in genuine relief. Her eyelids fluttered with pleasure. The first emission felt like cream flowing from her asshole, with the added euphoria of knowing it was absolutely devastating the stupid girl’s face underneath her. Her beautiful wide hips were nice and thick enough to form a near-airtight seal around her entire head and face, leaving the ungodly odor to hover right around her poor victim’s nose and mouth.

BRBRRBRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGRGLGRLRRGG

BROOOOOOOORRRRRMMMMMPPPTT

PPPPRRRRRBRBRBBOOOMMMPP


It was as if her asshole had opened up further to allow more of the gas to escape. The sound suddenly spiked in volume, turning from rattling into absolutely earth-shattering. The smell was starting to hit her, and holy hell was it horrendous. Being constipated, she expected it to smell strongly of shit. This was more than that. It smelled like each gas particle was made up of an entire toilet’s worth of shit, packed into a single molecule, then multiplied by the immense volume she was pushing out of her ass. This gas was a purified toxin, and Angela quietly turned up the power on her healing staff to maximum, knowing she needed it.

Underneath her, Mei was in hell. With every breath she took, this massive blast was being pumped directly into her sinuses, and every second was pure torture. There was no longer a hope for losing consciousness, no longer any possibility of her even remotely getting used to it. She couldn’t even slow her breathing, much less hold it. Her brain was in overdrive, constantly being battered with disgusting artillery shells and constantly being rebuilt by the healing beam. Her resolve was breaking. Her mind was filling with poison. She felt utterly annihilated. Tears began dribbling out of her eyes as she kept coughing and retching, which only worsened her pain as she was forced to take deep, sharp breaths of the toxic chemicals fumigating the entire inside of her head.

GRRLGHRRGLRGRLGHRLGLGLGGRGRHBRGBGRBRBRGRRGGRGRGGGRRRRRRRRLLLLT

Angela had her brain in overdrive for a completely different reason. The poisonous air fumigating Mei’s nose felt like heaven to her as it left her body, like a demon exorcised from a host. She wasn’t sure if she could climax just by farting alone, but she felt like she could get pretty damn close. Her mouth remained hung open, paying little mind to the gas flowing into it, and she couldn’t help but let her tongue flop out just a bit in an expression of pure pleasure. She licked her lips, feeling like some sort of powerful demon as her stomach seemed to deflate just a little bit, but nowhere near enough to feel better.

Though the practically orgasmic sensation clouded Angela’s perception, the smell was now, somehow, getting worse as the sound of the fart suddenly turned from roaring to bubbly. It was as if the first wave of nuclear destruction was finishing up, and now her juicy, perfectly round ass, covered with only a sheer, extremely breathable special fabric, was delivering the fallout, the aftershock. No air within a half mile radius was going to be breathable when she was done. And she wasn’t done. Far from it.

GRGRHBRBGRGLBRLRGBGLRBGRGLLRBGRLRLGRBGBRGBGBBBBBRRRT

Her grip on her staff tightened, knuckles whitening as the bubbles continued to burst out of her now extremely damp asshole, shifting into a much deeper, growling sound than the earlier vibrant trumpet calls. Sombra, thoroughly regretting her decision and now retching from being second in line to the raw firepower, was utterly shocked, both by the sheer volume of gas and the unfathomable stench. These were farts that channeled hell itself, and it was coming out of the beautiful, thick, delicious derriere of the blonde woman that Sombra frankly had always thought rivaled Amelie in attractiveness. She wasn’t sure how to process the events transpiring in front of her. She watched with a newfound lust for the gorgeous doctor, even as the alarm bells rang in her head, her fundamental biology telling her to get the hell out of there before she passed out.

The room was now completely blanketed in Mercy’s terrorizing ass blasts, and the air itself seemed to grow thicker, almost like smoke. Sombra had intentionally chosen this room for her ambush, knowing the gas would quickly fill up the tiny space, but now it seemed she had merely dug her own grave too shallow. Mercy’s ass was committing a verifiable act of bioterrorism in this facility, and Sombra had sealed herself into it. Every breath was agonizing; even though her panties were squelching wet, her body could still only take so much, especially without the benefit of the healing ray like the poor girl whose head she had just released. She backed away before dropping to a full run towards the door, suddenly all too aware of the juices built up between her thighs.

Widowmaker met her at the front doors of the facility, raising an eyebrow at her as she adjusted her suit around her waist and hips. “What took you so long?”

Sombra swallowed, feeling her own arousal dribbling down her leg. “I didn’t even see you leave.”

Widow chuckled softly. “That’s the idea. Now put your pants on. We got lucky today. Let’s get out of here.”

---

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sssssSSSSHHHH FSSSSsssshhhhh

PPRRRSSSSSSHHHHHTT

The wires kept Mei’s head in place without Sombra, not that it mattered much – nothing short of leaving the building was going to let her escape the smell now. Impossibly, the sound and smell took another turn for the worse. The toxic odor seemed to just get heavier and thicker with every release; it was as if Mercy’s bowels were really loosening up now, unwilling to show any restraint. Just how worse was it going to get? The stench was now undeniably horrifying, even in her pleasured state, and she began fighting the urge to start dry heaving. Her succubus-like facial expression turned to that of stunned surprise and a-bit-more-than-slight concern.

 PSSSssssshhht sssshhhhht

 …

 FFFSSSSHSHSSHRSHSSSSSSSSSSSS—

Angela pushed out two smaller silent bombs, and took a short breath with her mouth. The air tasted foul and vile, and her vision seemed a little cloudier than before. Then, barely a few seconds after that, having regained her composure, she dropped another nuclear gas bomb.
“Silent but deadly” wasn’t really the apt descriptor anymore. The sheer volume of gas rocketing out of her ass was creating an absurd wind tunnel of sorts. Though the classic brassy sound of a fart was nowhere to be found, the rate of gas flow passing through Mercy’s asshole was enough that the gas itself made whooshing noises, not unlike the sensation of sticking one’s head out of a moving vehicle. Of course, the key distinction being the inhumane heat and stink that her victim was being forced to endure.

Through the haze of it all, Mei still couldn’t stop herself from coughing and taking sharp inhales, each breath feeling like it was killing thousands of brain cells. Her mind just didn’t even have the time to process how disgusting it was; now it was just focused on surviving this. In its efforts to do so, Mei’s body was fully pumped with adrenaline, pushing her breathing rate even faster and keeping her mind as clear as possible. If this was a predator, that would all be helping her run faster or fight harder to escape the danger. But she was tied up, and Angela’s thick, pale gas cannon was glued to her face, pumping out intolerable fumes with barely a second between blasts. Even if she could hold her breath now, she wouldn’t outlast Mercy’s horrible gas, which came one after another after another. The pain only increased as she was subjected to the worst farts she had ever witnessed – worse than even the double sitting she had received just moments earlier.

Mercy was only three minutes into her merciless sadism when she realized she had been doing little other than moaning, grunting, sighing, and panting. When she took the pills and sat down, she intended to give a little speech about treating coworkers right, as ironic as that would have seemed given the circumstances. Now, however, she couldn’t really bring herself to admit that was her plan. The long-awaited release that was now taking place had felt so good, she was entirely occupied with keeping composure while her face alternated from pained expressions to expressions of bliss. Abandoning the silly idea of a speech entirely, she chose to step up her torture method.

Triggering her suit’s wings, she gently lifted herself off of her seat on Mei’s face. Normally, if she was in combat, her suit’s abilities would last a few seconds at most. But right now, she didn’t need the built-in life support, damage buffing, or even the amplified healing abilities (enough to keep Mei conscious was all she needed). When she powered all those auxiliary functions down, the suit permitted several hours of sustained flight.

Mei, feeling the weight of Mercy’s destructive ass finally lifting off of her, assumed the worst was over. She didn’t realize it had only been three minutes, as it had certainly felt like hours. She looked around, gathering her bearings, realizing that the Talon agents were now gone, leaving just the two of them.

Then, without warning, Mercy flew straight back downward, planting her ass against Mei’s face yet again. Mei tried to thrash around, but she was still weakened, and her efforts merely did Mercy’s work for her by nestling her nose deeper into the crack between her two cheeks. It was only when she felt her nose bridge make contact with Mercy’s puckering asshole that she realized she fucked up.

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The torment continued yet again, only this time, Mercy was getting creative with her wings. Using her flight capabilities, Mercy flew downward onto Mei’s face as much as she wanted. Impossibly, Mei’s pain and embarrassment worsened. The added “weight” slammed into Mei, making every breath even more strenuous than before. Yet the nanoparticles of Mercy’s trusty staff drove her body to run on autopilot as her lungs desperately clamored for air, any air, even air that was utterly desecrated.

Between her colossal blasts, Mercy eased up on her wings before crushing her victim downwards again, making it impossible for Mei to acclimate at all. At some point, she noticed that her wings were sending her gas billowing all over the room, but she didn’t care. The telltale churning in her bloated stomach told her that she would have plenty more farts to bombard Mei’s stupid face with.

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“Mercy…Please, Mercy…Pl–HHCK!–Please…”

Mei’s whimpering cries between nose-melting blasts were barely audible under Angela’s poisonous hurricane. Angela smirked, unable to resist taunting her in response.

“You asked for Mercy, no? Well, here she is. Mercy, in the flesh.”

pppppPPPPBPBBRRRRRRRrrrrrrffffffffffffrrrrsssssssssssssssssssssshhh…

“Gah, I’m really outdoing myself here…” Mercy said, pinching her nose shut. The stench of burning, rotten shit was nearly exceeding what she could handle.

PPPPFFFFFFFffffrrrrRRRRRRBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAUUURRRRRBBBPPBBBLLBBBT

“Unhhh…”

That didn’t mean she was stopping, however. Honestly, her ass had a mind of its own now. After holding back a tidal wave of violently horrifying farts, she no longer had control of the pressure valve. Face-melting stench exploded out of her like from a burst pipe, one gargantuan burst right after another, and she barely even had to push.

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Neither of them knew how much more time had passed by the time Mercy finally switched off her staff. For each of them, it felt like an eternity. Mei, her mind and body utterly broken by a million lungfuls of the world’s most fetid gas from her colleague’s unapologetically violent ass, could barely muster the strength to look up at her tormentor. The constant dry heaving had burned any hatred out of her body; she was now utterly exhausted and humiliated.

Mercy wiped her eyes, which had been constantly tearing up from her own intractable farts – not to mention the vile miasma that Widowmaker and Sombra had created, though she was pretty confident that her stink was completely dominating the space by now. She could barely stand to be in this room any longer, starting to feel lightheaded herself. Every breath hurt, even for her. Her asshole was sore from the sheer volume of gas tearing through it, and there was a small pool of drool at her feet. Her guts were almost completely deflated.

Almost.

She hit the toggle switch on her staff before pointing it at her midsection. A dull blue glow illuminated her stomach, and almost immediately, she doubled over.

“Oooh…” Mercy groaned, then giggled softly to herself.

Mei looked up, first in confusion, then in horror. But it was too late to do anything, and she had no energy to even try.

Mercy turned to give her one last sly smirk, a sadistic twinkle in her eyes as she winked.

“I want to make this last one count,” she said, devilishly licking her lips.

Mei felt Mercy’s hand grab the back of her head and plant it deep in between her buttocks. The residual stench was enough to make her gag again, and without the healing beam, she felt much more vulnerable.

“Damage…”

Mei closed her eyes, knowing her fate was sealed.

“Amplified.”

PPPRRBRRRBBBRRVVVRRRRROOOOOAAAAUUUURRRGGRRRRGRRRRRGGRRR—

A truly ungodly stench bathed her senses, overloading her brain completely. The past two hours of relentless gassing did nothing to prepare her for this one. Her whole head felt like it had been pressure-cooked as she finally drifted into unconsciousness, her lungs irredeemably stained with a three-part cocktail of farts.

Mei’s vision faded to black before Mercy was even halfway done with her final blast.