Warning: This story references face farting and humiliation.

I awoke from a blissful sleep to the sound of thick, wet bubbling. The sound was so loud that it penetrated through heavy covers and woke me from my deep sleep instantly. As I was asleep I missed the full sensation of it being released, but I still felt the burning aftermath of it on my anus. There was another sound there too, a enduring muffled, agonized scream which soon ended in a course, raspy, pained cough. I could not only hear this, I could feel the scream vibrating deep within my ass cheeks. It was a soothing sensation.

Sometimes that happened. I ripped ass so violently it woke me up. It's quite annoying when this happened in the middle of the night, but from the rays of bleached sunlight which scattered upon my desk, the chains hanging from it reflecting the lustre and projecting it upon the wall beyond my bed, it was clear that it was late morning.

I let forth another blast of a fart, this time feeling this screams vibrate my flesh. The quilt underneath is hot and steaming due to those two farts, and likely steamed all night with my farts. I shuffle around and sigh, the screams ending in a whimper, which kicked up once more as my ass let forth an airy, quiet, long third fart.

My body shared the cavern under the covers with my slave, Arthur Peters. His face could be felt wedgied up my ass. As I only wore thin panties last night, I could feel his nose far inside my crack. It felt as if he was trying to loosen his nose from my butt, but the extremely tight harness that held him in place down there, one so tight it cut into the back of his head, ensured that he would never be able to move, not even an inch away from my sweaty crack. He had spent the last 9 hours down there, and as I was planning to have a lie in for a little while, he was going to have to endure it for even longer. I would check to see if that last fart had left a mess later.

My body was lined with sweat under the quilt. It was roasting, hotter than a sauna, and I could almost feel the vaporous form of many hot farts cook underneath the covers. Curiosity got the better of me, and I briefly lifted the covers and put my nose inside, just a little. Almost instantly I was hit with a extremely potent, disgusting, fetid stench, and I quickly wrapped the covers around me and audibly gagged. It left an after smell deep in my nostrils which would last for a while. The scent of bodily gasses as well as sweat mixed together to form a foul air, almost unbearable in quality. No wonder my slave struggled. God, it must be hell down there, something I ate last night must've not agreed with my poor stomach. That must mean he has had little sleep. Still, that doesn't excuse him from his daily duties.

Thinking of my slave makes me want to snuggle up and cause him further pain. Imagine every night being tied to a flatulent, huge arse which frequently let's rip, constantly being awaken by the airy force of a fart. Even if the force doesn't awaken him, the smell often does, so often he's exhausted. It doesn't help that he always has a long, agonizing day in front of him.

He must have realized I'm awake, because he went quiet after I yawned and shuffled my hips underneath the quilt. Occasionally a soft groan came from him, probably from the pain of the harness. As the tightness of it is directed into the back of his head, I don't receive any of the discomfort, so often I make it way tighter than I should, just so I can fall asleep knowing he ain't going nowhere and that he's in pain.

'Good morning, slave. How was your night? Sleep well? God, it stinks in there.' I giggled.

Finally, I begin to stretch under the covers. My body extends itself and his face is dragged alongside, still far up my crack. As I pull myself out the covers, choking down gags as the air underneath is released, I look back at him. His face is submerged in the walls of my ass and his body is set aside as if a useless portion of what he is. My underwear, drenched in sweat, is rammed up my ass, offering little protection throughout the night. I unpeeled myself from the bed and sat up. Suddenly, he begins to cry out. My full weight is atop him. Instead of reliving him, I kick up my legs and rest on top of him for a while, ignoring his screams and sudden outburst of violent protest.

'Oh, you must need some air to breath? Well, okay, I'll give ya' some.'

I release a long, drawn out, deep morning fart. He squirms even more, but breaths it in, because there's nothing else under my immense weight to inhale. The pure heat of the fart must have made his face sweat like mad, but since the smell is mostly trapped inside, I have no idea how bad he's suffering. From his cries, it sounds like he's suffering bad, and I imagine he is. After all, I need to take my morning dump, and pre-poop farts are something else.

'I'm just going to relax here for a while. Let out a few warm trumps for you to smell.'

His legs kicked at the air but soon died down. That fart likely offered him enough air to survive for a few minutes, but he was already exhausted, so his protests couldn't really keep up. That's too bad, I love a little squirming, but I still know he's suffering, which is good enough. I get a small whiff of the fart and screw my face up. It was disgusting.

After a minute, I felt another fart brewing, almost ready to escape. It felt quite heavy in my gut as it began to expand inside of me. I knew from it's size that it was going to be a huge one. Well, he was beginning to struggle for air, so he should be thankful for this next one.

I pinned my hands against his flailing arms to hold him securely in place. He's going to really struggle after this one, and this ensures that he can't move from my wretched ass crack to evade the utterly vile stench he's about to be presented with. His legs are trapped underneath my weight also but kick in the air where they can. It's a useless gesture, it offers him no chance to escape, but it's clear that he understands why I'm going to be keeping him pinned down.

Then it came. A behemoth of a meaty fart, mighty, strong, and rippling loud. The flesh of my ass cheeks vibrate against the force of this long, violent fart, vibrating his head alongside them. As my anus burned above him he releases an inhuman scream of pain, one which proved he was a broken man. It was humid, and it went directly into his inhaling nostrils.

When it finally ended, I released a long sigh against his cries, and once the smell hits me, I yell out, 'Oh my god, that's so disgusting. How can you sniff that? Even after 5 years, you haven't gotten used to my farts. Well, that's a good thing for me, makes this more fun. Anyway. I think you should thank me for that one.'

A choked, forced, and muffled gesture of thanks was uttered beneath me. I chuckled.

I felt my bowels begin to tighten. I really needed to take a dump. I reluctantly peeled myself away from him, unlatching the harness. I looked down at his green, gasping face, eyes wide and mouth quivering as it inhaled somewhat fresh air. Well, not exactly 'fresh', considering my last fart had tainted my room with it's rotten aroma, but fresher than what he had down below. His breathing consisted more of farts than fresh air now, and this showed. He was in a terrible state. His face reeked badly of farts, and he was coated in sweat. His body was thin and he looked older than he was. His face was so red he looked on the brink of death and hey, after that last fart, maybe he was. I love the way I've transformed him into a quivering fart creature.

'God, you stink of fart. Gross', I say, holding my nose and wafting it away, 'anyway, get up. I need to take a huge dump, and you're going to hold back the fumes.'

As I turned I stepped hard on his hand. He cried out as my weight leaned against his flesh. I whipped out from a side drawer a collar and rope, which I tied tightly around his raw throat, dragging his shaking frame into the bathroom. After I had him kneel by the toilet, I sat on it, grabbed him by his hair, and slowly lowered his face between my legs, so his nose was poking into the bowl below. As I did this I looked at his face, full of fear, and felt aroused by his terror. I didn't even give him the mercy of removing my nasty panties from his gagged mouth. He was whimpering as his face was trapped beneath my legs, as this was something he absolutely despised. I chained his arms to eye bolts attached to the rim of the sink and the cabinet.

'I'm going to take a smelly shit', I said, feeling the vibrations of my slave's struggles between my legs.

First, my ass let out a sharp, heavy toot, which vibrated loudly in the bowl. My slave coughed through his gag and let out a pathetic sequel. Then, It came. I unleashed my bowels and  the waters below splashed after the sound of a deep fart. My slave tried to cry out but he was too busy choking and coughing. I let forth a second load and sighed as the toilet steamed with my dump and vibrated with his cries. He didn't know how to occupy himself, he wanted to cry, moan, and choke at the same time, as the steamy bowl below burned his nostrils.

I lifted myself from the bowl and cleaned myself using the bidet. I wasn't particularly fastidious with my cleanliness, so I was soon finished. My slave was still tied down to the toilet, his muffled garbled disgust vibrating through the dirty, unflushed bowl. He clearly wanted out, but he couldn't move move due to his extended arms forcing his face into the bowl. I smiled and sighed, itching at my bra.

'I'm going to get dressed and make some breakfast. I'll keep you there until I'm done. Oh, and no, I'm not going to flush. Keep sniffing my dump like a good boy or you'll be there all day.'

As I left the room I heard his shackles shake against their bolts with desperate wanting. Poor slave, his nose never catches a break.

I dressed in a casual pink sweater with some old leggings which I had worn a few days ago, alongside a pair of used socks that should be white, but were more of a greyish colour. I smelled the leggings where my ass would be and pulled back, the smell of stale ass strong in it's fabric. It really needed a wash, I thought as I pulled them over my legs, keeping on my stained underwear. Afterwards I inspected my ass in the mirror, not for the sake of vainness, but to look at what my slave would have to deal with today. I smelled the distant whiff of stale sweat and smiled.

Downstairs, I started making a breakfast of eggs, beans, mushrooms, bacon, and a few fat sausages. It was important to refill my gut with fresh farts. Yes, my farts would still be a real agony to deal with without a good breakfast, but a big breakfast likes this fills your gut full of stinkers for the rest of the day. It's important to base my diet around my gas, to maximize my slave's suffering. Foods like beans, eggs, boiled cabbage, broccoli, sprouts, cheese, and oats are very common throughout my meals. As such, my gut often is full of farts for my slave to smell, and bad ones at that. Beans were very common, I had them everyday, because they really do make you toot.

As I made my breakfast I felt a fart coming on. Rather than wait for my slave, I turned slightly to one side and pushed it out, feeling it's brassy trumpeting ripple out of my ass and expand in the air. My stomach was relieved as the built up pressure was released. Smelling it, I screwed up my nose and coughed. It was a pretty strong fart. My slave is going to have a lot of work ahead of him today.

As I let the food cook in the pan at a low heat I grabbed some dry food scraps that I had left laying on the side and emptied it into my slave's bowl on the floor. There wasn't much there, but you couldn't feed someone too much and then place them in close proximity to my ass or they'd throw up. He'd lost some weight these past few years, which was saying something has he was always quite skinny.

I left the food cooking and stomped up the stairs. In the bathroom, my slave was still dry heaving as he breathed in the smell of the bowl. He was sweating and his head was shaking softly as he moaned. For a moment, I watched him struggle. He lowered his moaning, knowing full well that I would love to punish him for being too loud. I walked over, attached his collar and rope, and pulled back. He choked violently as I pulled back, digging into the skin of his neck. I rested my foot on his back as I pulled back, hard. He couldn't breath, and so all that was released through his gag was dry croaked pleads, but I didn't listen. I then bent down a little as I was pulling back and held his nose. Now he really couldn't breath. I tried to hold my own breath as the smell of the toilet was foul. I finally released him, and he inhaled sharply and heavily, sniffing through his nose the used bowl beneath him.

As he breathing normalized I flushed the toilet and unbolted him. He drew himself out of the toilet and began to claw at his neck, coughing on the floor. Sighing impatiently, I grabbed from a tub in the cabinet a dirty toothbrush, and threw it at him. I peered into the toilet and screwed up my face as I realized the rim of the bowl was not exactly clean.

'Make my toilet sparkle, slave', I snapped, resting as I watched him reluctantly clean the toilet with the brush. It was quite therapeutic, seeing somebody clean my disgusting toilet with such a small tooth brush, scrubbing away and moaning as the smell of the bowl lingered in his nostrils.

When he was finished, I ripped the tape off his mouth and took out the dirty panties. There was a long skid mark on the thong from a particularly wet fart I had let loose onto his face a week or so ago. I remember it vividly, once I had ripped that one he had really struggled to get out. His screams were agonized. I easily held him with my ass and hands, I mean with how weak he is he can never escape, but I still got a fun ride as my slave convulsed beneath me, his nostrils humid with my wet fart. I didn't let him breath anything but my ass for another hour after that.

Currently, my slave was on his knees, staring at the floor, his breathing heavy from my previous fart and dump stink still baked into his nasal cavity. He was pathetic, a true example of a human without dignity, a piece of trash not worthy of respect. He stunk of fart, his hair was clumped against his sweat lined forehead, and his weak, starved body was alive with various bruises as it shook violently, not used to the fresher (but still stinky) air. He represented a sub-human who had been utterly destroyed by my disgusting abuse. But, still, he suffered more than ever. That was important. It was a priority of mine to ensure not one second of his torturous existence held any gleam of hope, or happiness, or relief, for all his waking moments were miserable. And as my belly grew with another fart, I realized I wanted him to suffer more than usual, and I wanted him to see it.

I raised my hand and slapped my slave hard, so hard he yelled out in pain as his cheek drew blood. I slapped him once more with a force driven by hatred and he screamed and fell hard onto the floor. I turned him to face the mirror, and as he saw himself, bloodied, crying, pleading, he realized what his life was worth. Nothing at all.

'I'm going to sit on you and fart. Make sure to take the sight in, will you? I want you to see what your purpose in life is, slave.'

'Please', he choked, 'don't, I feel sick. Just give me a second, a break, please I-'

His pleading was interrupted as my weight crashed hard against his face. He shrieked and begun to cry in pain as his face was pressed tight against the floor. I smiled in the mirror as he was forced to see himself as he truly was. I liked to think that some of his agonizing painful yelling was due to him realizing who he was and who he would be until he died.

As he watched I pushed out a brassy, rippling fart which rumbled deeply against his crushed flesh. His eyes watered as tears instantly drenched his face, which had become almost purple as the fart begun to linger below.

'Please-' He forced out, 'just kill me-'.

I burst into laughter at what had become a common beg for me to end it all, 'No. You're here for life.'

Soon the smell hit me, and I made a gasp as the cheesy rank stench flooded my nostrils. Whilst it must've been much more potent directly below, I still got more of the smell than I should have. It's time for me to inform my slave of what happens when I smell too much of my own fart, even if it isn't his fault.

'Slave, I can really smell that fart. You're supposed to take it all in. Not only that, but when I was downstairs, I farted and you were not there to sniff it. For that I am going to put your through a lengthy punishment later on. Also, I'm not going to wash again, maybe for the next few days. I know it's really ripe down there so you'll have to do a better job at sniffing or I will extend your punishment.'

Slave boy knew exactly what that meant, and he began whimpering in fear. He couldn't say anything because of the pain and terror coursing through him, but he knew at this point that begging would only make me more happy, so he occupied himself with crying loudly like a tortured animal. I needed to fart again, so I turned him over so he faced the ceiling. Then, I quickly dropped my smelly, giant ass on top of his face. I'll give him time to think about what I said as he deals with the crushing pain.

The fart echoed loudly in his nostrils as his nose expanded with the force of my fart. It was a fart I had directly injected into his nose, and it must've smelled awful because his cries only intensified as his crushed face vibrated against my leggings clad ass. Still, he wasn't going anywhere until the smell went, and despite his reluctant sniffing, it would be a minute or two before the air clears enough for me to get off him. Fortunately for him, I was out of farts, at least for now.

A few minutes later, I had lifted myself from his face. He coughed loudly, his eyes red and his face violet from my torture of him. I grabbed the dirty panties, and as I did he looked at them with widened eyes. Too shaken up to speak, he mumbled as I stretched out the skid mark and slowly forced them down into his mouth, skid first, turning my head away at the smell of my unwashed, stale shart. God, it was so disgusting, and now it was plastered against his tongue.

As he took the shart skiddy in I forced the harness around him and then attached him to me, so quickly that his nose would not have come close to become accustomed to the stale dump scent of my bathroom, and once more entered my rank crack which gave off a strong, potent smell of unwashed, sweaty arse. His face tight against my ass, I walked, forcing him to crawl across the floor until I reached the stairs. Each step he fell hard as I took my time, ensuring his pain was extended until he fell onto the floor of the ground floor hallway, knees bruised and cut, but still his face remained inside me.

I felt his breathing intensify as we reached the kitchen. I released him from the harness and he fell downwards onto the floor.

'You're meal is in the bowl. I have a really big breakfast today so I've given you less to eat. You know why, of course, because I don't want you throwing up, because that's what will happen as soon as I feed you. The leftovers have gone a little stale but since your gut is just filled with air, my air to be precise, I'm sure you'll eat them. Anyway, go on, eat.'

As he ate his meal like a dog I placed all my items on my plate. It was like a mountain of food, and I struggled to hold it as I drew it to the table. Despite eating a large supper the night before, I ate my meal fast, quickly feeling my gut fill up. My slave was finished before I was, but not much before, and soon I was gulping down a giant mug of coffee. I was quite full, which meant my Slave was going to VERY busy for at least the next 12 hours.

After reinserting the skid gag I placed him in his harness and then attached the harness to the sink as I do every morning. His throat released a cackling moan as I stepped over him and rested the flesh of my cheeks on both sides of his face, his nose sinking deep into the fabric of my dirty leggings. Because of the angle of his arms he couldn't pull back in the event of a fart, so I didn't need to worry about him escaping my clutching globes. The issue with the sink harness is that I always got a significant whiff of the fart. Whilst I don't hate the smell of my own gas, it often is strong enough to make me feel ill due to having recently eaten. However, it allows me to appreciate my position, far above the fart, and understand and revel in the suffering of that creature who's face is trapped within the prison of my large, flatulent ass.

I felt a fart brewing as I washed the dishes. My slave knew this too, as my stomach released a long, drawn out rumble which indicated something foul was coming his way. He wasn't happy with the prospect, and I begun to hear the chains rattle as he softly wept. I don't blame him, my breakfast farts are something else.

Soon I was ready to cut the cheese, so I angled my ass slightly to one side, his face shifting as my cheeks did, and grabbed both of the chain links, pulling them hard so his face sunk even further against my asshole. I grunted and pushed out a long, rumbling, deep fart which violently exploded in the tunnels of my slave's wide nostrils. I felt the rank air leave my anus and travel up his nose before feeling the vibrations of his loud screams against my asshole. Poor little slave, eggs and beans are his worst nightmare.

As I begun washing the pots again, not reacting to his continued cries, I suddenly choked as the air become prey to a waft of my fart. I mean, god, I usually have nasty farts after breakfast, but this was something else. It was very eggy, and so potent you could almost swim through it's cloud of disgusting stench. I wretched out loud and laughed at shock of the smell. My slave's screaming continued.

'Oh my god', I said, wafting the air away, 'that is the most disgusting fart I've ripped today. God, how the fuck are you still alive down there? It must be fucking hell being you right now, and, uh oh, I feel another one coming.'

I pulled on the chains again and whilst my slave cried out my anus rippled violently against the outburst of a fart that burned my anus. Unfortunately for my slave, who was screaming once more, it was only three seconds later that an ever longer fart bubbled out and scolded his open, tortured nostrils.

'Two farts for the price of one', I say, giggling over the sound of my slave's suffering. As my belly grumbled again I groaned, 'oh, silly me. I meant three farts for the price of one.'

After I finished the pots I brought him into the room and sat on his face whilst I watched Television. Every so often I turned to one side and pushed out a stinky fart, and for a while his cries echoed in my steaming, unwashed arse before the next fart echoed outward and the process began anew.

For thee rest of the day I was extremely gassy. I kept him in my ass even as I made chilli for lunch, releasing him only to take a piss or to let him use the bathroom. I told him that his punishment would be extended by the amount of time he spent away from my ass today, so he hurried up.

After my early supper, which consisted of a huge bowl of oatmeal, a boiled egg, a small cheese platter, and a large glass of milk, I allowed my farts to be built up for the punishment this evening. For an hour he didn't have to smell any farts other than a small, airy SBD I made him choke on. Of course, he knew his punishment was upcoming, so he was whimpering throughout the entire hour.

'I think it's time for punishment, slave,' I said, loosening the harness enough to pull back his face, 'Now, I know my ass hasn't been washed in ages, so I thought that I'd be particularly nasty and make you eat my farts as punishment for your actions.'

He cried out in pain at the thought of eating farts as I ungagged him, loosened the harness, and picked up the plastic mouth bind that ensured his mouth would stay open. I could hear him say 'please' in a odd voice due to him only able to use his throat after I placed it around his mouth. Tears littered his face and his face had reddened. He knew the taste of my ass was foul, but I wanted to make it extra bad for him.

Slowly, I pulled down my leggings until my dirty panties were facing him. He didn't expect this, and begun to shake as the smell trapped inside my leggings now become his breathing space. Still, I wasn't done yet, and soon I was pulling down my panties. When he realized what was happening, oh boy did he struggle. He sounded like a deer trapped in a bear trap, his tortured cries more animal than human. Laughing at the sound of his suffering, I pulled tight on the harness and soon his mouth was formed to my asshole. Latching the harness was a struggle due to the tightness of it, which dug hard into my slave's head. Poor guy was both heaving from the taste of my asshole and crying out due to the pain.

'Okay, so the good thing about your position is that you can't escape the taste, no matter what you try and do. That supper has given me lot's of gas to punish you with, so I think you're going to be down there all night. I mean, I already have a fart coming, so why don't we test this position out, huh?'

I slowly bent over as I felt his breath on my asshole. I pushed out and released a short but juicy fart which echoed loudly in the cavern of his open mouth. As I did so his cheeks expanded with the force of my flatulence for a second before he began to scream. His loud screams tickled my asshole which caused me to giggle.

I sniffed the air and smiled as I realized not one whiff of that fart had escaped the vice my ass has over his mouth.

'It looks like it works, I can't smell a thing. Hey, why are you screaming so much? You know my farts enough now to know that I just cut a relatively mild fart. What are you going to do when the big boys are released? Anyway, I'm gonna relax on the bed for a while, so enjoy yourself down there.'

I pulled him with me on the bed as I rested on it. His face was still attached to my bare arse as he spread across the huge, spongy mattress below. It was soon after that when I realized my next question would soon be answered, as a huge rumble in my belly indicated that something nasty was coming. My slave must have heard it too, probably through my asshole, because he began to weep. God, I don't blame him, he's in hell.

I didn't need to warn him, so I lifted my ass to the side and pushed it out. It was a long, wet fart which rumbled loudly into his throat. I sighed after it ended but soon realized it hasn't finished yet, and soon my asshole was pushing out the rest of the long, humid fart through his screams and down his throat. My asshole was hot as the fart screamed back at him, scolding his mouth as his animal like cries were heavily muffled by his rank gag. It felt like I was murdering him, it was that bad. How can one remain sane after eating that?

'Oh my god, that was a big one', I giggled as his screams failed to die down, 'I bet that tastes fucking awful. God, it's only been five minutes, and you're already screaming like that? What's the rest of the night going to be like?'

The rest of the night actually happened to be particularly awful for him. I lost track of the farts which rippled loudly in his mouth, but that supper must've done something to my gut because they were all hot and sounded absolutely disgusting. They were the types of farts that I used to escape the room from whenever I ripped them before I kidnapped my slave. Now, I don't need to, but god if the sound alone made me want to throw up.

The issue was that they were not dying down. I decided to take him with me when I went to brush my teeth, and even then two farts echoed in his mouth. They were going to last all night, which gave me an especially evil idea.

When I reached the bed, rather than unlatch the harness and prepare my dutch oven, I started to climb into bed with my slave still attached to me. A confused groan soon turned into a scream as the covers surrounded him with his mouth still up against my ass.

'I'm afraid my gas won't let up. Because of this, I'm going to extend your punishment until the morning. I know this is a first, but try to limit the screams, because I might think about punishing you tomorrow night as well if you're too loud. Anyway, good luck down there.'

He released a long, drawn out cry of pain was was unlike any human sound I've heard before. As he did so my asshole released another deep, fiery fart which pushed his scream back into his throat. Sighing as my covers partially drowned his screams, I found that sleep would find me more easily tonight than it would find my asshole. I don't think it will be sleeping at all tonight.