Warning: This story references face farting and humiliation.

Looking outside the window into the thick, fog ridden forest which stretched out for miles in each direction, I smiled and sighed in relief. After a life of putting on a mask in busy office rooms, conferences, and family gatherings, it felt good to know that my early retirement has allowed me to spend some time alone, absent of falsehoods and the peering eyes of others. Well, by time I meant the rest of my life, and I'm not even 40 yet, so I had a whole lot of time to spend. But still, it was just me and my slave, and it was clear from his weeping that he wasn't as pleased at the prospect of our shared life together, alone, but that was his problem.

I pushed and released a thunderous explosion of flatulence which rippled violently and loudly. Sighing, I felt the face strapped into my black denim clad ass scream and try and move his arms, which were bound to the sink. It was a comical sight to behold, both of his hands were tied to the sink and his face strapped into my huge ass. Each time he tried to move away his binds obstructed him, and his face was very tightly trapped in a custom built harness that was tied around myself, pushing his face into my crack. I let another fart roar out and my slave screamed again. I don't blame him, it must stink down there.

'I bet that stinks', I chuckled, shuffling my hips around, 'Slave, those beans really are giving me gas this afternoon. I think I'm going to be farting a lot today,' I bent over and rubbed his nose deeper into my fart tainted denim ass, and begun to speak in a low whisper, 'you're not going to be leaving my ass ever. I just want you to know that.'

Despite the tight hold my cheeks have on his face, a portion of the smell escapes into the air as I mess with the dishes. I scrunch my face up and make a quiet but audible sign of humorous disgust. It is quite strong and smells of rotten veggies, whilst having a unpleasant tinge of bitter rot. I grab the belt and tighten it even further, the flesh of my fat ass pressing deep into his face as he moans in pain. I give my butt cheeks a little jiggle and then continue cleaning the plates with purposeful slowness.

Most people, upon seeing this humiliating scene, may think that my slave has done me a great injustice in the past, but the honest truth is that he has done nothing wrong. I just planned out his kidnapping for months because I wanted somebody to torment. Poor intern Arthur Peters, a meek, skinny underling, was the worm forced into servitude for the rest of his life. Now his role as my slave has led him into the position he's in, and he doesn't seem to be coping well.

'I cannot comprehend how awful it must feel to know that you are serving me as my slave for decades to come, although I can make a guess how it smells.  Just know that it is your role to do as I say, and that things will get much, much worse for you. Why? Because I enjoy torturing you, and love knowing you're truly suffering. Now, stop moaning, you're about to have another trump to snort and I expect you to sniff really hard.'

I wasn't lying. Loosening an hissing, airy SBD up his nostril, I sighed and relaxed my body as his chained frame begun to convulse and twitch behind me. I let out a minx giggle and closed my eyes as the vibrations of his screams rippled against the huge flesh of my bum. Out of fear, he sniffed deeply, and as he cried out I felt the air of his nose vacuum up the source of my fresh SBD.

'That's right, sniff that fart up, slave. It's rank, oh god, I can smell it', I wafted the rotten egg fart in front of me, 'how pathetic is it that your smelling that fart? Honestly, a fart that stinks that bad, and your tied to the ass that it was cut from. How do you put up with the idea of that, your face, no, your entire being is only useful as fart suction device for a chubby middle aged woman? Really, you are as human as a toilet, it's pathetic.'

He wept quietly in my ass as I hummed to myself and continued to wash the dishes. When I was done, I removed the cuffs from his hands and went for a walk around the house. My slave's face was still deep in my ass and he was forced to crawl with his neck craned to support the flesh of my cheeks. As I walked passed the bedroom I cut a long, sharp, airy fart which violently rippled against my slave's face. As he moaned and suffered that fart he was forced to crawl onward, his nostrils open to the scent of my gas as his nose rubbed against my denim ass. It was like I crop dusted his entire face.

I went to the bedroom and shut the door behind me, giving my ass a little wiggle as my slave still wept into the confines of my denim butt. For a little while I relaxed on his face. He really was comfortable. Then I looked at the bed and smiled. I couldn't wait to show him how he was going to spend his nights later today.

I detached his warm face from my smelly butt. As he was released he shook and inhaled the fresh air deeply, falling back onto his elbows and then onto his side. I turned around and looked at him, beginning to giggle to myself as I saw his red, raw flesh, steaming with farts, his eyes watering from the aftermath of those baked beans. Looking now at the suffering he had endured, a joyful bliss washed over me. As he lay twisted upon the floor, coughing loudly, almost retching as he writhed there like the worm he was, I felt inside me a sense of great achievement. I had caused my slave to react in such a way, my farts had broken his spirit and now he lay gagging and spluttering through tears caused by the smell from my bowels. God, how is he going to last as my slave?

That's when it hit me. I really wanted to let him know that I was going to take this further. Much further. He wasn't going to like the next few hours, but I would a whole lot. As I imagined his tortured cries I flicked my ponytail and felt myself become incredibly aroused.

I grabbed his hair and lifted him by it, the strands of his mane wrapped tightly in my large fingers. He shrieked as I pulled him towards the desk at the side of the room, a large oak desk with a computer. There was, to his apparent surprise, no chair, only two rings with handcuffs attached. He realized as his howling increased to pained begs that he was about to become my literal desk chair. He despised this idea, and tried to kick away at the floor. It was no use, and I easily overpowered him and had began to shift his weight underneath the wide desk (it did need to accommodate my fat ass, after all).

When he was cuffed he was sprawled out just beneath the desk, his face forced backwards by gravity. I peeled from the floor a pair of old socks, used and dirty. I shoved one in his mouth and then, with tape I had found in the nearest drawer, I locked it in, the sharp acidic taste of stale foot sweat etched into his taste buds. I then merely brought one foot over his squirming, bound frame, so that I faced the wall and he had the amazing view of my massive, tight denim clad arse. That's when I unbuckled my belt. He must've heard the metal latch separate, because he instantly had visions of what I was going to do. As I listened to his increased moans, muffled by my stinky used sock, I partially unzipped my jeans.

Peeling it slowly down, I revealed to him the dirty, thin fabric of my panties. I heard him shudder as the stale smell of ass increased, a lot of my butt sweat no longer confined  inside those stale jeans. I let out a squeal of delight myself as I slapped one of my butt cheeks. I left the jeans hanging just below my ass, as if I was taking a dump on the toilet.

'If I were you I'd really panic right now', I said, lowering myself a little, 'I've worn these for days and they've absorbed a lot of smell. I can't imagine how much worse my farts will smell with only my panties on. Still, there's no escape for you. This is going to really suck hard, but you'll survive, unfortunately for you. Anyway, I have a fart on it's way very soon, so you'll get to sniff that through my underwear.'

I plopped my bum down upon my struggling, terrified slave. The weight off my arse instantly applied to his face, struggling uselessly as his small frame creaked underneath me. Getting his nose right up my sweat stained crack, I shuffled around, trying to get comfortable whilst also finding a perfect exposed position for his open nostrils. It wasn't hard, the elastic material of my panties soon allowing his laboured, nasal breathing to brush up against my thinly veiled asshole. Every time he inhaled he let out a sob. He was unfortunate in the fact that, despite the heavy weight crushing him, he could still breath, although each breath was tainted by my butt smell. I also knew he was waiting in fear for me to let rip. Well, he wasn't going to have to wait for very long.

'So, my fart sniffing slave, I am really enjoying myself. I know that you really hate this, which, in all honesty, makes this even more satisfying. I'm really glad I made the decision to spend the rest of my life with you here serving me, although I'm sure you don't like the idea of sniffing farts for years until you mercifully die. Even so, there's nothing you can do, you do realize that, right? You will be sniffing my farts, and I will never let you go.'

My slave began to weep below my arse.

'Crying?', I giggled, 'you should be. Your life is literally being my chair. What do you have to look forward too? The only thing you have in your future to contemplate is how you're going to be dealing with my farts when I eat a Turkish dinner, or when I have the flu and your tied to my ass in bed, or how you're going to deal with the smell from my bum after I haven't showered for a while. And-'

I'm interrupted as my belly begins to rumble.

'Oh- Did you hear that? I'm going to fart now. Are you ready? Oh wait, of course you aren't,'. My slave cried out in fearful anticipation as I applied more weight down upon the flesh of my butt, preparing for the fart. He could do nothing but squirm, trying anything to not have to smell it through only my underwear.

I hold my weight down, his nose poking up my pantry clad ass as a deep, bubbling, humid fart ripples violently from my asshole. As the fart ends I sigh and press both feet against the ground. My slave kicks and twists but his face remains firmly up my crack, where the smell assaults his nostrils and bakes the air he breaths in a thick liquid cloud of rank meat. He struggles more than ever, but as usual I force him to breath in the fart, chuckling to myself. Then a meaty vile stench of potent fart hits my nose, and I gag audibly before wafting the air away from me. The smell is so bad, I can't imagine how he feels down there.

'Oh my god, that's bad', I hold my nose for a second, 'how can you endure that, fart absorber? It reeks.' I say this in such as way as if he should be ashamed of smelling farts, and honestly, he should. Sniffing my fart IS humiliating, and the fact that he has smelled my farts almost dehumanizes him in my mind. I'm sure many people would agree that he should be ashamed that he's sniffing farts for a living, even if he has no choice. Can you imagine how decades of churning farts into his face will effect my idea of him? He'll be lowlier than my toilet bowl after a double burrito.

'Jesus Christ, another fart already?' I said, feeling another one begin to brew in my bowels. He screamed in protest, but then coughed loudly. The fresh cloud of fart is still very much down there with him, and as he screamed he deeply inhaled it. I laughed, my arse vibrating on his face as I did so, it braced for the impact of my next trump.

As I lean partially to one side he realizes I'm about to cut the cheese, and he acts accordingly, kicking his thin legs and crying for mercy that will not be granted to him. I then fart, listening to the trombone like tooting rip hard against the whole flesh of his face as my anus is relieved the pressure of it's presence in my body. And, oh boy, it was one presence. The fart lasted for ages, and every time it seemed to die it begun to rip louder until finally it ended with a sharp explosion. A mere second after that, still as his screams were drowned out in my flesh, a small, gritty toot escapes my butt and enters his inhaling nostrils.

That fart was quite comical, it sounded like something from a bad comedy movie, but, god, let me tell you it smelled nasty. How could my farts smell so bad? He was really inhaling, well, he was forced to, but even so a stream of it escaped and assaulted my own nostrils. I got a diminished, partial example of the full smell and even that smelt like an unmaintained barn. The smell was harsh and kept in the air, mixing with the stench of my previous trump, which had begun to grow stale.

'You're really not enjoying that one, are you?' I ask as he released squeal like moans which I could feel against my sweat coated arse crack.

As time went on farts were endured, poorly, usually through screams and always with a reluctant, petty struggle which diminished with ever smelly fart. Those beans must have really hit the mark, because it had fuelled my farts for hours. Even after I took a quick break to grab a iced coffee after a particularly strong trump, with my slave crawling at my heels, I was ready to fart again by the time I had locked him back under the desk. I lost count of how many times I let loose, but by hour four his throat was horse and too dry to scream. When six hours of farting went by he must have wished for death.

The most memorable fart was one which I didn't expect. It was well into the third hour. I had just finished my coffee alongside an ham sandwich I had whipped up earlier and left in the fridge, when all of a sudden I realized I could fart. Well, I thought to surprise him with it, because there was no point hyping it up. It felt pretty small inside me, although I was still confident it's smell would cause him great discomfort.

It wasn't very long, perhaps a few seconds, and made no sound whatsoever. It was merely a wisp of foul air. But it was hot. Very hot, almost burning. Well, I heard him choke and splutter more so than ever before. It was an SBD, and it was VERY deadly. It must've come from some deep crevice of my bowels which releases farts even the devil would blush at, because it was incredibly smelly and impossibly strong. It was eggier than a thousand boiled eggs, but also had a meaty quality to it. I laughed and almost choked, and then proceeded to force him to smell it. I wafted the air like it was made of poison. Even I didn't want to smell that, and usually I'm fine with my own farts.

I realized it was getting late. Of course, my slave had lots of farts to endure before I went to bed with him tied to my ass, but I needed to grab a nice supper. Perhaps some scrambled eggs with toast would be nice, I thought to myself, alongside a jug of hot sweet milk. Before I switched my slave to portable mode, however, I wanted to rid myself of he latest batch of farts. They felt pretty big in my gut.

However, I wanted to make these ones a little different. I wanted him to consume them, to eat the farts. The sock was drenched when it was released from his mouth, which emanated whispery begs as I manoeuvred behind my ass to wrench his mouth open whilst still keeping him tied to both me and the desk. Eventually, I made it, quickly dropping my ass down full weight, my fleshy globes keeping his wide open mouth jammed shut against my crack. His eyes widened as he realized what I was doing, I noticed before my ass encompassed his whole face, and he began to struggle and plead with revitalized vigour, his mouth inhaling the vile taste of stale trumps.

It came almost instantly, a loud, trumpeting ripple which vibrated in the cavern of his open mouth as he was forced to swallow it. He really cried this time, more so than before, his face drenched in tears as his eyes watered from the taste of shit and rotten fart. I peered below as I let loose and saw his cheeks expanded with the force of my fart. It must've tasted disgusting because he dry heaved as he gulped it down. Because his hold was so tight on my ass I didn't even get a whiff.

I farted a few more times in his mouth before I released his jaw from my ass and inserted in another old sock I found lying around. I unlatched him from the desk but kept him in my ass, just so I could rip a gross, crude fart into his nose. After the smell died down I decided to dress before making supper, so I let him go. He fell to the floor with an hard thud as he embraced the air of the room, absent of my ass. It still smelled like fart, but less so than directly under my ass, and so he inhaled as he shook violently and cried loudly.

I took my panties off as I dressed behind him. I didn't care if he saw me naked, but he refused to peer around, terrified at the sight of me. I put on thin pink cotton PJ's which I had not washed in weeks, and a blue nightwear vest. Quickly, I attached him back in, welcoming him back with a sharp smelly toot. Clearly, from his howling protests, my PJ bottoms didn't hold much back, and to add insult to injury, he was tight against my ass, sinking into my crack as I began to move around.

I cooked a bunch of scrambled eggs and had a large mug of hot milk with it. I sat down upon the wooden chair of the dining table, my slave enduring my full weight as I slowly ate my supper. Clearly, he was uncomfortable, as he kept crying out, but I refused to move my butt and kept it clamped tightly to his crushed face. The air was quite warm and I begun to sweat a little, especially in my ass, but he would have to put up with the warmth and humidity of my crack. He had no choice.

Grunting as I chowed down on some egg, I ripped a nasty explosion of gas into my slave's nose and rubbed my ass into his face a little, his screams drowned by the weight of my flesh. The fart built up as my ass was tight against his spread nose and then released, ripping hard against the red flesh of his face as it pushed hard against him.

After I finished, I left the plate on the table and stood up. As I did, his face slipped partly out of the tight hold he had been wedged into. It felt like a jigsaw piece popping out of place. Feeling bloated with eggy farts just waiting for my slave to endure, I strolled in the bedroom and sat on the bed, my slave sprawled out underneath me.

'You've got all night to endure these egg farts. God, I almost feel bad for you, knowing how bad they will stink. Did you think my farts smelled bad earlier? Well, they are going to be much stronger and nastier. God, you better hope you don't get many wet ones. Oh, and I want to show you where you'll be spending your sniffing duties tonight. You're gonna' hate it.'

I untied him but kept his face in a hold beneath my ass, sitting just above his face with my legs locked around his arms and my full weight around him. Then I began to slowly lower my PJ bottoms until my full, bare, vile ass was on display. As soon as he realized what I was doing he screamed louder than ever before, something to the effect of 'NO' over and over again, his head shaking and his legs kicking. Having my bare ass full in view, purposefully taunting him as I shook it near his face, told him that the last shred of protection he had against his worst, most vilest nightmare had been removed, and now he knew that the woman sitting atop of him was willing to do anything to get him to suffer and choke on her farts. He realized the full, haunting truth of his position. He was at the mercy of somebody willing to sit on his face and fart with a bare ass after a plate full of eggs. He had nothing but rank stinking farts in his future. I saw this in his widened eyes, which confirmed to me that he was not worthy of being called human. He was a fart vacuum, somebody who had less value than one of my farts, who was not worthy of empathy, and I was going to show him what the rest of his life was going to be like.

I sat my full weight down on him, his nose and face fully sinking deep into my steaming, disgusting crack. He wanted out, he shook and begged but I had no intention of making this easy for him. It was going to be hell, and as my egg farts brewed and my belly gave out a rumble that vibrated against him, he knew this.

'I'm going to let out an egg fart now, slave.' I said, holding his head as I got his nostrils in position against my asshole. I felt his nose cower in the rotten cloud of ass stink, but I had him in place, and I was not going to move anytime soon.

The egg fart rippled directly up his nose, his face shaking with the force of its rippling wind. It lasted for a while, and I could actually feel his nose suck in the vile fart against his wishes. I sighed, and then came the screams. Oh god, the screams. It felt like the screams of some soul damned to the deepest hell, and then it hit me. The smell. It was so gross, I gagged loudly. It was super eggy, and I could tell that my supper had done a real number on me. And that was from a person who both liked the smell of her own farts and only got a brief waft of the full behemoth. He was pressed into my ass, and, oh god, it must smell so bad that death would be preferable over being where he is now.

It was only a little while later when I felt the need to release once more. This time, the accumulation of gasses that I was about to cut felt even bigger than the one before. I felt a little worried. Not for my slave, of course, he was nothing, but for my own nose. That last fart had been really nasty, even for me. I didn't want to have to smell something even worse than that. Even through my slave was sniffing perfectly, the smell really was his problem, and he would need to sort it somehow. It was as I was pressing my front teeth against my bottom lip as I held back the fart that I recalled the mouth fart from earlier. I had smelled none of it, and my slave had taken it all down his throat.

A smile began to stretch across my face, and I could feel it's fleshy curves peel across my skin. I began to unpeel a part of my left cheek from his face. I could here his wheezing and disgusted groaning vibrate against my butt, which increased in volume as I peeled my revolting sock from his mouth. Then, after his nose separated from my asshole, I slammed a fist hard into his belly. He twisted as his mouth opened in shock and pain, and quickly I sat my butt directly over it, his agonized yell shaking my ass. He then realized what I was doing, and oh man did he want out. It was no use, my flesh held his mouth open directly underneath my asshole. This fart was going to be really fucking nasty for him.

It came quickly after that. I had been holding it back so I only had to unclench my butthole before it thundered in his throat. I could hear it blow through his cheeks and down his gullet. He convulsed, as if suffering from a seizure, and screamed into my ass as the vile fart rumbled into his mouth. It's a good job I starved him for today, his empty belly meant he couldn't throw up whilst it filled up with my farts, and so I only felt the warmth of his dry heaves against my butt.

Then the next fart came, seemingly out of nowhere, putting the previous to shame. It was a wet, rippling fart which lasted a whole seven seconds, a juicy explosion which ended in a series of humid, greasy bubbles. I sighed as it ended, surprised to find the air around me still absent of fresh fart. I swear, if I had to smell that monster I ripped into my slave's mouth I would have puked. I tried to imagine the intense rotten egg stench of that fart but found it difficult to comprehend. With the way my slave struggled, you would have thought he was being frayed alive. His eyes dribbled tears onto my bare flesh and his mouth uttered muffled, vibrating shrieks of agony. His body writhed for the longest time as I kept my nasty ass spread open above his open mouth.

'Oh my god. That is so gross. Slave, that must taste so fucking gross. Enough to put you off egg for life. Wait, I feel another coming. You ready to swallow another, fart breath?'

After a few more farts I grew tired. It was time for bed. After putting the sock back in my slave's mouth, strapping him once again to my ass, and pulling my PJ's up until only my crack showed above my slave's nose, I drew the covers over both of us, and began to settle into the soft fabric of the mattress. After a few seconds I heard underneath the covers a loud, muffled, vibrating fart, accompanied by my slave moaning and inhaling it.

'Tonight's going to be the longest night of your life yet, slave', I said, rubbing in the fart, and pressing my face against the cushion, feeling the roots of sleep begin to coil around me.