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My Sister, My Keeper
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: March 12th, 2017

Isabelle walks up onto the porch with a case of luggage in each hand. She’s flustered momentarily, trying awkwardly to free one of her hands to knock on the door but, before she’s able, it opens and her younger sister, Eleanor, is there to greet her.

“Finally you made it!” Eleanor says, giving her sister a giant squeezing hug before she can even put her bags down. “I’ve been sitting on the stairs waiting for you.”

“You have not!” Isabelle playfully argues.

“Totally have!”

They look at each other a moment and smile. Isabelle puts down her cases and comes in for a proper hug with Eleanor, before they both walk inside. Eleanor takes one of her sister’s cases but quickly finds it extraordinarily heavy. “What’d you pack, the whole school in here?”

“Pretty much, it’s got all my books and stuff, why don’t you let me take that one?”

Eleanor pulls it away from her, insisting on carrying it, “Books? Seriously? You’re on break! Have some fun with your sister, why dontcha?! Do you even remember fun?”

“Yes, I do; I have it every third Friday of every other month,” she badly jests.
“See, you sound like you’re joking but I know you’re probably serious.”
Isabelle scoffs, “Okay then, what do you suggest?”

Eleanor smiles, “I’ll tell you can beat me up the stairs!” She immediately races up with a massive head start, still dragging the heavy case of books with her.

“You little brat!” Isabelle laughs, chasing after her sister; they playfully wrestle in the doorway before they both, exhaustedly, lay out on the floor and stare at the ceiling for a short while; enjoying being in each other’s company again, even in silence.

For hours that day, the two sisters laugh and share stories of a year gone by too quickly. They do each others’ hair in funky ways and start a 5,000 piece puzzle they have no intention of actually finishing.

Eleanor gazes lovingly at Isabelle as she talks about a boy she dated briefly while at school. She’s happy to have her back home, even if it’s just for a short while. Eleanor’s cute smile slowly turns into a sly smirk as her mind goes elsewhere. Her sister’s words fade out in favor of a devilish idea that might just be good for Isabelle as well; though that certainly would be secondary to Eleanor’s own fun. She licks her lips lustfully, like a wolf stalking her prey; she feels her loins burn a little with delight.


Eleanor’s butt trumpets out loudly.

“Oh my god, did you just fart?!”

“Uh, yeah, duh...” Eleanor says shamelessly though completely caught off guard by her own sudden burst of flatulence. “Mmm, that is a good one, smell that,” Eleanor insists, wafting the air towards her sister.

“Eww, no,” Isabelle shrieks, holding her nose with one hand; with the other, she pulls the pillow out from under her legs to try to fan away the fumes.
The both chuckle and when the foul air finally subsides, they return to their casual game and chat long into the evening, until their mother finally returns from work. Together, they all enjoy a nice dinner while Isabelle regales them with stories from college and living on her own.

Eleanor watches her sister in admiration of her intelligence, her boldness in taking the world on alone. Isabelle never let anything stop her, it’s a quality Eleanor wish she had but such confidence has never been very easy or even comfortable for her. It’s a mystery to her how they could even be related considering how different they are; Isabelle’s a lot more like their mother than Eleanor. She jokingly wonders if she’s adopted before snickering into her food quietly; Isabelle talks for another hour or more and their mom is all too eager to listen to every word.

That night, Isabelle settles in to share her sister’s queen-sized bed. They chatter for hours, giggling with each other joyfully. At some point, mid-conversation, with her eyelids growing heavy, Isabelle drifts off to sleep; her body exhausted from the long trip home.


As Isabelle softly snores, she moves her body slightly and each maneuver carries with it a light sound, a clink of metal. She notices her ankles seem stuck together somehow, under the blanket; she tries to pull the comforter away to see but also finds her wrists are bound, by handcuffs.

She shakes her head in disbelief; wondering if this is just a vivid dream, “Eleanor?” She loudly whispers out.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Isabelle squints into the darkness, in the direction of the voice; she sees Eleanor, wearing only her panties, hunched over the old toy box as she digs through it aggressively. Her large breasts hang low and her gut protrudes just a little past the waistline of her underwear.

“Eleanor, what are you doing? Did you cuff me?” Isabelle says confused and shaking a bit; she begins to think more and more this is just a dream she can’t wake up from.

“I mean, yeah, who else would have?” Eleanor responds matter of factly.
“But why?!” Isabelle asks.

“Well I doubt you would have stayed still for this.”

“For what, what are you talking about? Undo these right now!”

“Hm, I don’t think so Issy; plus I still haven’t gotten this on you,” Eleanor says with a grin as she holds up a ball gag.

“Where did you even get this stuff?!”

“Internet. Mom wanted me to build credit, so I’m building credit,” Eleanor holds up the ball gag again as her example.

“I think she meant like movies and video games once in a while, not hand cuffs and chokers!” Isabelle asserts.

“No, my dear ignorant sister, this is a ball gag; a choker is worn around the neck,” Eleanor says as if narrating about bondage toys to her sister.

Isabelle pleads, “Please don’t...please...please...” Her eyes are wide with terror; she can’t believe this is real, or that she can’t wake up from this nightmare.

“Why are you so afraid, you don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet,” Eleanor smirks as she forces the ball into Isabelle’s mouth, then tightens the strap around the back of her head. Isabelle immediately feels a painful soreness in her jaw as her mouth is stretched to accommodate the gag.

Eleanor softly clasps her hands together, “Alright, good, now we’re going to get you up to speed.”

Isabelle shakes her head, trying to loosen the uncomfortable gag but it’s hopeless. Eleanor pulls a tablet from the nightstand and gets up onto the bed; she sits down heavily on her sister’s lap, squashing her crotch under her big butt.

“Comfy?” Eleanor playfully taunts.

Isabelle glowers angrily at her sister but it only ends up looking hilarious when she does it with a ball gag in her mouth.

Eleanor laughs, “Now, you’re gonna watch this with me so I can get in the mood and so you can know what’s to come. Don’t mind me if I watch your reactions.” Eleanor puts one ear bud into Isabelle’s ear and another into her own. She sets the tablet to stand on Isabelle’s chest, with the screen glowing brightly in her face. Isabelle’s panicked eyes dart around thumbnail after thumbnail of women sitting on faces, with video titles like Smell My Juicy Farts Without Pants and Licking a Farting Ass.

Isabelle looks at her sister, total shock in her eyes over what Eleanor is showing her.

Eleanor just grins, “Starting to get it now, sis?”

Isabelle whimpers out, praying this is all just some sick prank. Eleanor reaches over and starts the first video, a brutally gassy face sitting and forced anilingus. Isabelle cringes at each massive blast, practically smelling the atrociousness of what the submissive in the video had to endure.

Eleanor lustfully stares at her sister, cruelly enjoying her being forced to watch the most vicious fart porn she could find as she sits heavily on her lap; her pussy throbs a little.


The rippling fart bubbles roughly against Isabelle’s crotch, Eleanor raises her eyebrows to her sister with a smirk, “Guess now you can get a little smell-o-vision, huh?” She wafts the rank fumes over to Isabelle.

On the video, Isabelle sees a frail woman painfully pinned against a wall, and then a big woman seals her face away behind her ass and farts so loudly it echoes against the wall. The smell of Eleanor’s fart hits seemingly right on cue as both the woman and Isabelle squirm in a vain attempt to get free, but there is no escape for either of them.

Eleanor takes the tablet away and leans into her sister, “You get the idea, right?”

Isabelle tries to beg but it just comes out as incoherent gurgles; tears well up in her eyes, at least partially due to the horrendous odor of Eleanor’s last blast.

“Aww, big sis had enough for one night?” Eleanor teases.
Isabelle nods eagerly, like a trained dog.

“Well I’m definitely farting on you at least once,” Eleanor chuckles.
Isabelle lets out a muffled scream that’s muted entirely when Eleanor’s panty covered butt is in her face, mashed heavily over it just like the woman in the video. Isabelle can smell the putridness of Eleanor’s last fart, clinging to the fabric of her faded Adventure Time underwear.


Isabelle’s body twitches as the hot wind blasts straight into her face, her nose unwittingly but helplessly inhaling the toxic gas from her sister’s backside.

“Ooh, that was a good one!” Eleanor declares proudly.

Isabelle moans out a reply as her body shakes fiercely, unable to get any air from under Eleanor; she feels her head become light. In an instant, her eyes roll back and with a final violent jerk, she passes out under her sister’s bum.

Eleanor feels her sister stop moving and gets off of her, once her privates stop throbbing; she softly massages them as she gets back onto her part of the bed. She leans over to her unconscious sister and kisses her on the forehead before she has to recoil, a bit disgusted by her own emissions.
“I’m really glad your back home, Issy,” she whispers sincerely, watching her sister’s chest softly rise up and down; she unhooks the ball gag and gently closes Isabelle’s jaw. Then she turns away, stuffing the gag into the drawer before settling onto her pillow as she closes her eyes. Eleanor softly touches herself to the sound of a subtle wheeze on Isabelle’s breathing from the noxiousness of her gas. She silently chuckles and slowly drifts off to sleep with a hand between her legs.


Isabelle wakes up groggy; sunbeams pierce through the blinds and straight into her eyes. She winces and inhales deeply, suddenly getting a renewed whiff of her sister’s terrible flatulence from the night before. Isabelle dry heaves from the smell and panics as she realizes she’s still cuffed. She tries to scream but Eleanor’s hand comes quickly over her mouth, covering it and filling Isabelle’s nostrils with the stale aroma of dry ejaculate on Eleanor’s hand.

“Good morning, sis!” Eleanor says excitedly, looking down cruelly but playfully at her sister; she removes her hand so Isabelle can talk.

“You have to stop this now!” She says angrily.

“Stop it? But your training just started.”

“Training? Eleanor, don’t do this, just uncuff me, please?”

“Oh, hold that thought,” Eleanor quickly turns, showing off her big butt to her sister.

“Eleanor, you’re naked!” Isabelle cries out.

She looks over her shoulder and winks to Isabelle before pushing her nude butt hard over her sister’s face, burying it deep inside her cheeks despite her sister’s garbled pleas for mercy. But as Eleanor hears approaching footsteps, she quickly throws the blanket over the top of her lap and Isabelle’s body, hiding her away from view. There’s a distinct and recognizable two-tap knock before the bedroom door opens.

“Everything alright in here?” Mom says, poking her face in through the crack.

“Yeah, mom; I’m fine. Issy said she was tired from the trip and wanted to rest some more,” Eleanor lies as her sister breathes in and out against her bare butthole.

“Aww, I understand; are you going to remember to vacuum later or do I have to leave you a trail of post-its again?” She ribs.

Isabelle kicks her feet a bit, trying to get their mom’s attention.

“Ha! No, I’ll do it, mom, don’t worry,” Eleanor assures.


Eleanor quietly farts into Isabelle’s face; she breathlessly gags as the intolerable air hits her, practically paralyzing her for a moment; her body tenses and shudders fiercely.

“Well, I just wanted to say bye before I went off to work but I’ll just see her at dinnertime then,” their mother says, a bit disappointed.

“Okay, I’ll tell her you came by; I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Thanks, hun; have a good day, okay?”

“We will, mom! Bye!” Eleanor says with pep.

The door closes and Eleanor finally lifts her butt off her sister’s face; Isabelle pants and heaves aggressively, her sister’s rancid booty still hanging just inches away from her.


“Oh god, can you please stop farting on me?!” Isabelle strains to say.
“You know I can’t help it sometimes; when I get excited. And that was pretty exciting keeping you covered without mom finding out,” Eleanor laughs.

“Oh, yeah, great, glad you’re having fun! You never told me why you’re doing this; what’s the point of this game?!”

“Well, it’s not really a game so much as a lifestyle. And the point is for me to have my very own fart sniffer, like in those videos I found online and really, really liked. A lot. It’s been a weird but very fun year,” Eleanor reminisces.

“What? But that’s fake, right? They’re just videos!”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Eleanor grins.

“What happened to you while I was gone?” Isabelle asks melodramatically.

Eleanor snickers, “Nothing happened; I’m still sweet innocent lil’ sis, I’m just having some fun.”

“Yeah but this...”

“What? It’s too weird? I can’t cuff my sister, put a ball gag in her mouth, and fart in her face?” Eleanor asks absurdly.

“I mean...the fact that you even have to ask that...”

Eleanor interrupts, “So when I push my butt in your face again and order you to lick it, what are you gonna say?”

“Are you crazy?! I’m not gonna lick your ass!”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re related, that’s disgusting!”

“We’re not making a baby here; and, as my submissive, you’ll need to get used to this kind of work,” Eleanor’s tone turning professional, as if giving her sister the rundown of her expected tasks and duties; she starts to lower her butt down over Isabelle again.

“Wait, wait, I thought we were talking...” Isabelle panics.

“Talking time is over now; now it’s licking time,” Eleanor chuckles; her big booty wiggles softly on her sister’s face as she does.

Eleanor’s cheeks mash up roughly against Isabelle’s cheeks; her nose and mouth are sealed inside Eleanor’s crack, assaulted by the horrid smells of her backside.

“Now lick me,” Eleanor orders.

“I won’t!” Isabelle defiantly gags out.

Eleanor grabs her sister by the hair and runs her face softly but firmly along her crack, as if to inundate every pore with the sickly scent of shit, “You have to obey your Mistress, sis; you want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
“No! This is wrong!” Isabelle struggles, her mouth and lips smeared against Eleanor’s potent posterior again and again.

“Well I’m not getting up again until you at least put in some effort, slave,”
“I’m not a slave!”

“You are, you’re my slave and you’re being very bad; so you can suffocate under my butt until you learn.”

“Please, Elean...” Isabelle cries, already feeling lightheaded.

“I’m waiting,” Eleanor interrupts.

Isabelle cringes and cautiously extends her tongue; she makes contact with her sister’s sweaty ass but immediately recoils.

“You’ll have to do a lot better than that, sis,” Eleanor insists.

Isabelle again extends her tongue and manages to run it the length of Eleanor’s crack, but is repulsed by the rancid taste of her butthole; she whimpers out like a puppy.

“Whining is not going to get my butt licked, slave.”

Isabelle feels a pain in her heart, like being stung each time by Eleanor’s callous treatment; it crushes a part deep inside her that she can’t describe or understand fully. She just knows it feels awful.

She reluctantly extends her tongue again, panting like a dog now, and runs it over and around Eleanor’s anus; slowly lapping over each of the little ridges and right into the middle hole.


The fart echoes grotesquely around her tongue. Isabelle tries to pull back immediately but just ends up catching the rest of the rancidness in her open mouth; her sister laughs.

Isabelle spastically shakes, her tongue involuntarily out now and rubbing against the fart-laden cheeks of her sister; she moans out once before falling silent.

Eleanor quickly gets up off her unconscious sister, making sure she’s okay; checking her vitals like she saw on several internet videos. Isabelle seems to be breathing fine, just knocked out again from flatulence.

Eleanor chuckles in relief, she pats her sister’s head, “You really are my good girl.” She smiles and stands; she heads to the kitchen to load up for Isabelle’s next fun surprise.


Isabelle’s eyes pop open in total darkness; her body is curled up into a near fetal position and still cuffed, her binds making subtle clinks as she tries to move but there’s no room in any direction. “Eleanor?” She calls out softly.

Suddenly, a sizable hole opens above Isabelle; it’s less than a foot away from her face. Eleanor’s head pops up, smiling; she looks down into the hole at her sister.

“Hey again, sis!”

“What is this?” Isabelle asks anxiously.

“It’s just the toy box that I modified for my purposes.”

Isabelle’s eyes bulge, “You wouldn’t...”

“Oh but I would, dear sister,” Eleanor cruelly assures.

“Did I do something to you, are you getting back at me?”

“No! Why does everything have to be revenge? Can’t I just have fun?”
“But it’s not fun for me!” Isabelle whines.

“Aww, but it will be,” Eleanor promises as her butt comes down over the hole, sealing out all the light and all the air from the outside.

“Don’t do this, Eleanor!” Isabelle begs.


“You want to have fun too, right? What better way to get you used to my farts than a tiny fart box? Plus I always wanted to try it, sealing a slave up in a tight space with just my gas to breathe. Tell me how it is,” Eleanor shudders sensually.

Isabelle is suddenly hit with a strong eggy aroma that instantly overpowers her and fills her tiny prison with the repulsive smell of her sister’s terrible flatulence. “Please stop, it’s awful!” Isabelle pleads.

“After one fart? I don’t think so!”


“No no...” Isabelle cries as her hovel is flushed again with a fresh blast that viciously burns through her nostrils. Her eyes water and her body bumps around the walls of the toy box, trying desperately to find a way out but there’s no where to go. How could Eleanor ever expect that she’d like this?


“Please, no more...I can’t...”

“Just relax and inhale, sis; let it flow through you,” Eleanor’s tone is almost meditative but, for Isabelle, the words start to fade and garble into nothingness.

“Please...” Isabelle weakly sputters; a pocket of dense gas knocks all the wind from her lungs, she gasps loudly before her head falls back against the rough felt of the toy box.

Isabelle wakes, still in the box but the lid is open now, allowing the gassy aroma to vent but the felt lining still reeks heavily of Eleanor’s flatulence, and probably will forever after that explosive session.

Eleanor peers in, “Oh good; see you’re staying passed out for shorter and shorter periods. You’re getting used to it; pretty soon you’ll beg me for my gas.”

“I highly doubt that,” Isabelle says weakly.

Eleanor glares at her, “I said, you’ll beg me.”

Isabelle cowers fearfully; Eleanor reaches down and pulls her sister out of the box with ease and sets her gently onto the soft carpet. Then she takes a position, lying on the floor with her naked butt pushed out a little for Isabelle, “Now it’s time for you to lick me clean after all that farting.”

Isabelle quivers, too afraid to say anything back to her sister, but still reluctant to obey her command. She finds the feeling strange inside her, almost pleasant though her rational mind assures her this is anything but pleasant; it’s disgusting and incestuous. And yet, another side of her starts to creep up, even as she attempts to suppress it down it rises again with each glance at her sister’s displayed bum.

“I’m waiting, slave,” Eleanor says a bit impatiently.

Isabelle slowly crawls over to her sister’s big booty; Eleanor splits wide her butt cheeks as she does, giving her sister a perfect view of the target. Isabelle winces severely as the open crack unleashes the pent up stink contained in there, it practically knocks her off her knees. And yet, oddly, she continues forward, slowly but surely, like a spell has overcome her free will.

“That’s my good girl,” Eleanor’s words echo as Isabelle plunges her face into her sister’s moist cheeks. Her face contorts from the rancid smell, but wholly unforced she shoved her own face into her sister’s smelly butt. But why?

Isabelle extends her tongue, uncoerced, and licks through the pained shivers; she traces around each and every rim of her sister’s anus. Eleanor shudders in sinful delight, her eyes rolling back from the utter euphoria.


“Oh god, sis, smell that one!” Eleanor moans out, massaging her sister’s head.

The unbearably toxic fart blows Isabelle’s head back; it gushes intensely through her mouth and down her throat. But still her tongue remains pressed up and lapping against her sister’s anus eagerly; she is growing fond of it. But that can’t be, she can’t start liking this. That would be wrong; it would be improper of a lady like herself.

“Oh, oh, I got another,” Eleanor groans, pushing her butthole out a little.
Isabelle tries to retreat back but finds all her senses pushing her forward, her nasal passages opening wide to accept the foul gift about to come.


Isabelle’s head shakes in a violent reaction, but her nostrils flare wildly to inhale all of the fart smell that she can. It’s a smell so wonderfully rancid that she just wants to press her nose right up against the source and breathe in as it blasts out. But this isn’t right; she has to stop this, she can’t like this! Isabelle gags painfully, fighting the urge to recoil but not knowing why. Why would she want to continue to inhale this scent of human waste?
She groans loudly but it quickly builds to a fierce growl, “Goddamn it! Take these fucking cuffs off right now!” Isabelle recoils her head in sudden disgust; her body flops weakly onto the ground as she retches heavily.

Eleanor almost falls flat onto her face in surprise, never having heard her sister curse or even really shout before; she trembles in fear and stumbles over to her desk. She quickly digs out the handcuff key and undoes Isabelle’s wrist and ankle restraints. Then she quickly throws her hands up over her eyes, hiding her tears as she runs out of the room. Isabelle hears the slam of their mom’s bedroom door, that often being Eleanor’s refuge whenever things got out of control.

Isabelle huffs and puffs weakly on the floor, a heavy wheeze in her throat. She sniffles deeply, each one carries a bit of her sister’s fart with it, but she’s not as repulsed as before. But that can’t be, she can’t like this; she can’t possibly like this. She frets the thought over and over again until she finally regains enough strength to stand.

In the hallway, she looks over to the closed door of their mom’s bedroom, but she decides to leave Eleanor alone while she does her own soul searching. Isabelle heads down the stairs and out the front door to sit on the porch, which became her sanctuary through the years when things got tough. It’s where she always liked to think, watching the evening roll by and the streetlights flickering to life on the quiet cul-de-sac where she grew up.

She sighs, reluctant to think about all that’s transpired in such a short time. Like how could Eleanor have gotten into such crazy sexual fetishes? Was she always; or was this something she discovered suddenly and wanted to try it? Would she get over it?

And what about herself; how is it that she’s starting to like it? The strong smells, being ordered around; it shouldn’t be alluring. And yet it is. Somehow it is.

She closes her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts on the conflict, but her mind repeatedly floats back to the fart box, being enclosed in that tiny space with the thick, sulfury air surrounding her. Her nostrils involuntarily flare as she recalls it vividly, catching a bit more of her sister’s flatulence that’s still clinging to her face; but she doesn’t recoil at all. Instead she inhales again, deeper this time, practically craving the scent. Again and again she inhales until it seems like there’s no more stink that she can possibly suck up.

She quickly stands and races back into the house; up the stairs and into her sister’s room where Eleanor is sitting quietly at her desk, she stares blankly out the window. Isabelle cleverly smiles to herself and gets to her knees as she approaches Eleanor, but her sister doesn’t notice her.

Isabelle clasps her hands together, as if in prayer, and swallows heavily before she can find the courage to say the words she longs to,” Would fart in my face, Eleanor?”

Eleanor turns, startled, not realizing Isabelle was even there; her cheeks are puffy and wet with tears but she quickly tries to wipe them away, “What?” She asks weakly.

“I...urm...would like you fart in my face,” Isabelle stammers.

“It’s fine, I know you don’t want to do it anymore, you don’t have to,” Eleanor says defensively.

“No, I do...I do, I really would like you to fart on my face; as weird as that is to say.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am, I really am.”


“Yes, really,” Isabelle assures.

Eleanor smiles a little, “You’ll have to apologize to me first.”

“I’m really sorry, Eleanor; I got mad because everything was changing. You’d stirred up something inside and I just got scared and freaked out like I always do, ya know?” Isabelle admits candidly. “I shouldn’t have questioned you; you knew there was something inside me that needed to come out.” Eleanor looks teary eyed at her sister, moved by her humility; a side of Isabelle she’d rarely seen.

Eleanor chuckles politely, “Well, that’s not quite true, though I did hope. I’m glad you found a new part of yourself, sis.”

Isabelle beams sincerely, “But I’m totally serious, I need this from you now.”

Eleanor glares at her sharply, “Then beg me.”


“Ah ah, call me Goddess.”

Isabelle feels an almost electric twinge of delight in her loins from being corrected by Eleanor; a feeling unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She closes her eyes, concentrating; she bites her lip subtly, “Goddess, please fart in my face.”

“More,” Eleanor grins.

“Goddess, I long to inhale your odiferous...”

“Okay, we’re not doing Shakespeare,” Eleanor interrupts.

“Goddess, please allow me to sniff your farts; I want you to blow your gas over my face so I can suck it all up like a vacuum.”

Eleanor chortles, “That’s better!” She stands from her chair and pulls apart her butt cheeks for her sister. Isabelle leans in and inhales deeply; she trembles pleasurably before plunging her face into her sister’s ass. Isabelle eagerly extends her tongue, running it slowly along Eleanor’s crack and then deep into her butthole as far as she can make it go. Eleanor grasps the chair for support as her legs start to weaken from the intensely euphoric feeling of her sister’s tongue in her anus.

“Fuck yes!” Eleanor screams as she grabs one of her breasts, squeezing it as she hisses out between her teeth.

Isabelle furiously licks over Eleanor’s butthole as it profusely twitches.


They both moan out in near synchronization as Eleanor pinches her nipple tightly. Isabelle greedily inhales the foul air with her nose before returning her tongue to lick all the remnant fart juice that’s left over her sister’s hole.
“Oh god, yes!” Eleanor shakes spastically in delight as she cums wildly down her leg.

Isabelle shakes as well, violently, as her eyes roll back; her entire body stiff as her pussy explodes through her panties. She shudders loudly in delight, falling back onto the soft carpet; a wide smile plastered over her face. Isabelle’s back arches as she continues to liberate years of unsatisfied orgasms, right on the floor of the bedroom she grew up in. Despite the sexual exploration she did here, nothing compares to the climax she just had. She pants heavily and giggles, brazenly lying in a growing pool of her own ejaculate that’s collecting on the floor beneath her.

Eleanor giggles as well and joins her sister on the ground; they both stare up at the ceiling with big contented grins. After several seconds of pure bliss, Eleanor turns to face her sister; she brushes a hair out of Isabelle’s face and looks at her admiringly.

“Thank you for this,” Isabelle says softly to her sister.

“I’m just glad you liked it. It’ll make doing it again so much easier,” she smirks.

“So you really got into this from some online videos?”

“Not quite. Honestly, I thought about it for a long time; I even envisioned the fart box idea when I was younger. Then I saw it online and, I don’t know, something clicked.”

“Was it your mouse?” Isabelle responds sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah, I think you should just stick to sniffing my farts.”

They both laugh, only to be interrupted when Eleanor’s phone rings. She races to the desk to see who it is. It’s their mom; she answers it and puts it on speaker.

“Hey mom,” Eleanor says.

“Hey sweetie, I’m on my way home and I just wanted to see if you girls wanted anything special for dinner.”

“Mexican!” The sisters unexpectedly say at the same time; then they grab their mouths to stifle the giggles.

“Okay, well, Mexican it is then! I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks mom,” Eleanor hangs up and the girls burst into laughter for at least a minute or more. When the chuckles finally subside, Eleanor stares Isabelle down, as if studying her, “So you really want this, huh?”

Isabelle nods like an excitable puppy.

Eleanor’s tone changes instantly, “I must be a good trainer then, right, fart bitch?”

Isabelle changes as well, becoming instantly serious and submissive, “Yes, Goddess.”

Eleanor smirks and steps over her sister; she drops to her knees and squats her butt over her sister’s face. Isabelle sits in patient, quiet expectation of her sister’s big booty to come down over her. Eleanor begins to sit but then stops her self as a thought hits her, “Hey, after dinner tonight, if I try to turn mom into my fart slave, will you back me up?”

Isabelle’s eyes drift a bit in honest thought of the preposterous proposal; then she meets her sister’s inquisitive gaze, and grins devilishly.

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