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New Roommate PART 1 "Emily", her friend sighed, shaking her head, "I wish you could stay, but there's no room. I have a room-mate now, and they're taking up the only other bedroom. If I had another bed, I would, but there's no way I'm letting you share my bed.” "Why not?" Emily asked, pouting. "Well, for one, your stinky feet. Second of all, you fart a lot. You know I have a sensitive nose." "I'm appalled you would accuse me of being some sort of gross princess." Emily said, leaning to one side and smiling softly. "Wait a minute, I never said princess, and-" Riley was interrupted as a cloud of warm, eggy air began to grow around her friend, "Jesus, did you just fart?" Emily laughed, wafting the air around her red skirt clad ass, "better out than in". "I'd rather they stay in, god, now our living room's going to stink like a dairy farm. Fuck, what did you eat?" Riley asked, covering her nose and wafting the air back towards her friend. The fart had became a pungent pocket of rank air that burned away at the nostrils, the sulphuric eggy stench seemingly etching into the very fabric of the room. "There's no way you're letting anything like that out in my room. Do you know why I don't want you to sleep now?" Emily ate a crisp from the packet they shared, "I'll sleep in the other room." "You can't, I have another room-mate." "We can share". Riley shook her head and laughed, "no, you can't. They don't know you. Also, they're a guy, not exactly appropriate." "What, you think a guy and a gal can't sleep in the same bed unless they're partners? What is this, 1958?" Riley shook her head again, "look, I'm the last person to ever slut shame somebody, but I know what you're like with guys. Unfortunately, this guy isn't exactly a looker, he's kind of a scrawny nerd. Not your type at all." Emily shrugged, "so? I'm not going to sleep with him, just next to him.” “And will you hold back your farts?” Emily giggled, “Nah, I'll just let loose whenever I need.” Riley shook her head, “why do you think he'll let you stay?” Emily shrugged again, “we'll pressure him to. Just don't tell him about my bad habits until he's already agreed. When it's too late, I can do what I want then. He's going to be in for a big surprise.” “And why should I agree to this deceit?” Emily smiled, “because if not, I'm sleeping next to you or on the sofa. Do you want that?” “No”, Riley sighed, scratching her arm, thinking of how bad the living room would smell if she let Emily sleep on the sofa, “you've already done enough damage. Fine, but are you're you're okay sleeping next to a stranger?” Emily chuckled, “yes, of course I am. It's him who should worry about putting him with me.
Don't worry, I'm not going to be rude, I'm just going to be myself.” Riley rolled her eyes, “he's fucked, then.” The two of them shared a laugh. “Do you know what? This guy is a pushover. I'm sure he'll reluctantly accept without much pressure.” “Oh really”, Emily rose an eyebrow, “that's good. I'll get him to do all my chores. I mean, my laundry does need doing.” “You brought your dirty laundry?” “Yep, my sweaty gym clothes too”. Emily's gaze widened, “how long are you expecting to stay here for?” “As long as I want. Depends on how comfortable I get, really.” Their room mate walked in not long after their conversation. He muttered an hello into the living room awkwardly, which both girls returned back at him lazily as they sat and watched the TV. “Oh, David.” Riley called in, almost in a commanding tone. Instantly he complied, scuttling in like a rat. Emily looked at him without moving her head, and noticed that he not only walked like a rat, he looked like a rat. He has a pointed face with a long, thin, straight nose. She looked at the length of it and inside her warped mind some particularly mean ideas came to mind. She couldn't help but get a little sweaty from the thought of what she could do. “Emily is going to stay with us for a while. She just got kicked out of her last apartment unfortunately so I'm doing her a favour by letting her stay here.” “Oh, okay,” he muttered compliantly. “She's not sleeping on the sofa, so I've offered her your bed. I'm sure you're okay with that, aren't you?” His face became reddened as he prepared to protest, finding it difficult to look at either of the girls in the eyes,“I'm not sure, I can't really sleep on the sofa, it does my back in a little.” Emily shook her head and sat up, “who do you think we are? You live here, we're not going to make you sleep on the sofa. We can share the bed.” His eyes widened and his voice caught in his throat, “Oh, I- I don't- I mean- I'm not-” Emily sighed and rolled her eyes, “you have a double bed, no? And Riley told me you don't have a girlfriend. What, you think a guy and a girl can't share a bed if they're not sleeping together?” “No, I didn't- I mean, I didn't say that.” “Good”, Emily smiled, standing up and holding out her hand, “it's a deal then, we'll share the bed. I really appreciate you doing this.” “Wouldn't it be better for you to share it with your friend?” Riley shook her head as she jumped up in her seat, scrambling for an excuse, “I have a boyfriend who stays often, you know that. Also, since I'm Bi, he's not exactly happy for me to be sleeping next to a girl.” “Oh, okay”, he muttered, clearly uncomfortable despite his obvious attraction for them both, “I only have one set of covers, but I can-” Emily interrupted with a girly shriek, her laughter grating to the ears, “We can share the covers, doofus. We're adults, aren't we? Anyway, I'm going to have to move some stuff into your room. Makeup, clothes, stuff like that. Could you help me?” “Err- I guess I-” “Good”, Emily smiled, a wide smile that she could tell made her new room-mate uncomfortable, “I'll show you where they are”. Dave kept his room immaculate, Emily thought, as she looked around her new home. That's not going to last with her around, she thought. Still, his desk, now full of her makeup, and his floor scattered with unfolded piles of her clothes, his room was already beginning to look more like hers. She had left her dirty laundry at one end of the room, and planned to ask Dave to deal with it tomorrow. Riley was right, he was a pushover. He made a funny sound with his mouth, an almost silent whimper of protest, as she kicked her socks and threw them across the floor messily. She ignored him and rested her feet on the bed as she began to change into her PJ's. She stopped as she was looking at him, turned her gaze to him, and rolled her eyes. “Do you mind?” “Oh, sorry”, he muttered, before moving away to the bathroom. She was going to have a lot of fun with him, she thought, almost feeling pity if not for the fact that she was enjoying this so much. When she was done, she sighed, wiggled her sweaty toes, noticing the tangy smell of stale sweat permeate the air, and called out to her new bed-mate. “Get changed, we're going to bed now”, she said, phrasing it as a demand. She heard him mutter an “okay”, and sighed joyfully. He was already doing exactly as she says, he was going to make her life much easier when he was serving her. In bed, he awkwardly laid beside her beneath the covers. She wore a baggy pair of blue and white PJ bottoms alongside a thin, pink vest. He was clutching the covers and stared at the ceiling. She turned to face him and bit her lip, staring at him. He looked at her for a second, smiled awkwardly, and looked back up to the ceiling, visibly flustering the longer she stared at him. She tried to hold back laughter as she felt the boiled and hot milk supper inside her begin to mix with the beans from earlier. This was going to be fun, but she couldn't rush things too much. Better to ease him into his new life than push him in and risk him climbing back out again. She let out a small toot whilst looking at him. It was a short trumpet, but loud enough to get his attention. She had to be careful not to release anything too loud or wet to put him off right away. His eyes widened and then he looked towards her side, without looking into his eyes. “Was that you?” He asked. “Yeah, I just farted”, Emily said, casually, looking off the the corner of the room. “Oh”, he stuttered, “okay, I guess”. She looked at him and sharpened her gaze, “Sorry, is that a problem, Mr Prude? You think girls don't fart or something?” Shocked by the hostility in her voice, he looked at her and shook his head, “I didn't say anything.” She rolled her eyes, “it was the tone of your voice. Don't take that tone with me again. Anyway, I think you should apologise.” He sighed, trying to shift away from her, “I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to offend you.” Emily yawned, “well, if you think that girls don't fart, why don't I prove it to you?” Before he could react, she picked up his side of the quilt, stretching over, lifted it for a second, and then dropped it violently, allowing the trapped fart inside to rush out towards Stephen, who's eyes looked still for a second before they turned in on themselves as he made a short gagging noise. “That stinks”, he moaned. Emily was chuckling to herself. “Of course it stinks”, she said, still laughing, “it's a fart.” He was right through, Emily thought, as the fart begun to drift away from her victim and towards herself. It had a strong, cheesy smell which quickly became stale as the fart drifted into the rest of the room. When she turned to face him once more, he was holding his nose, the fart still lingering near him. She quickly reached out, and grabbed his hand, yanking it off his nose. “What do you think you're doing?” she spat, turning around in bed so that she fully faced him. “J-Just holding my nose. It smells like fart here.” I shook my head, “I don't care, don't hold your nose. That's a new rule now. Every time you hold your nose you make me feel gross. Also, since we're sharing this room, we have to share the burden of our various smells. So, don't hold your nose again.” “Oh, okay”, he muttered, almost in fear. “I'm sorry”, she raised her tone, “I didn't hear an apology.” “I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything”, he looked away from her, nervous as she stared at him “And what are you going to do the next time I fart?” He was silent for a second as he realised that she was going to fart anytime she wanted in his presence, “I won't hold my nose, I promise”, he muttered, closing his eyes in frustration. “Good”, she smiled, turning away from him, checking back every so often to ensure that he didn't hold his nose. This was how you trained them to do what you want despite their natural revulsion, she thought, and with the current progress, she knew this was going to be easy. She was a natural at this, she did dominate men before but not with anything as gross as her farts. It was only a matter of time before she felt another fart creep towards her asshole. It felt large, her stomach bloated as it and other clouds of gas gurgled inside. She moved to her side carefully, and brushed up to him. He looked at her for a second and then looked away, reddening in the face as her hips brushed his. If not for the strange behaviour she had been exhibiting, he would be really hard at this point. Perhaps he is anyway, she thought. She closed her eyes, scrunched up her face, and allowed her new bed to fill with the echoing blast of her vibrating fart. She leaned slightly to one side whilst ripping it, giving her cheeks enough open space to allow the fart to spread it's warm stink around the sheets. She released a long sigh, laughing, turning to face David as he tried and failed to hide his fear and disgust. “That was a big one”, she chuckled minxly, her hips vibrating against him as she moved slightly closer, wading through the smog of her fart that warmed them both beneath the covers. She lifted the covers around David as she did before, allowing the fart to pool in the open space, before quickly pressing the covers down hard, allow the expulsion of stink to rush out towards him. The smell of old cheese quickly spread out into the room, and she held her nose tight. His eyes closed and he shook his head as the stink overwhelmed him. He turned his face away from her and made a dry heaving sound towards the wall, wafting the smell away with one hand. “Excuse me”, she said, sitting up in bed, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?” He turned back to face her, his face red, “I didn't hold my nose, my hands are still under the covers. “Don't be such a fucking moron”, she said, in a firm tone, “what I meant by that was that you are not going to try and evade my fart in anyway shape or form. Not wafting the air, not moving away, just sit there and breath it in as if you would normal air.” “But you're holding your nose”, he muttered in a near whisper, clearly trying to de-escalate the situation whilst maintaining a mere shred of dignity. It didn't work. She sighed, trying to hold back a smile at what she was about to say, “I can do what I want, that's not the issue. I said that you couldn't evade the smell, not that I couldn't. Beside, I'm a guest here, you should treat me with respect.” “I am treating you with respect”, he whined. “Then don't avoid my stinky air. Is that understood?” “Yes, I understand now”, he muttered under his breath. “Good. If you get it wrong next time, I'll slap you.” “Fine”, he muttered, sitting still in the stink, his poor nose unprotected from the cheesy whiffs of his guests fart. Emily guessed that he didn't realise that this was only the beginning, but he already looked grossed out by her behaviour. “What does my fart smell like?” she asked, shuffling closer to him as the stink died down. “Rotten cheese”, he groaned, clearly still uncomfortable with the stale smell of her fart in the air. “Well”, she brushed up against him, “at least it wasn't a rotten egg fart. You would know about it if it was. You should be grateful that it didn't smell too bad.” He said nothing, merely sighed, trying his best to avoid her gaze. He clearly was uncomfortable around her, as he was before, but she thought that it was due to fear this time, rather than attraction. As he laid there passively ignoring her presence, she slowly hardened her grip around the quilt as she moved it up to their chins. He made no sudden movement so it was clear that he didn't realize that she was planning something, and fortunately for her, her belly rumbled silently as the fart that had brewed inside was preparing for release. She wanted him to become more intimate with her smell this time, so he could become more used to the role she had in mind for him. If she was going to stay here, she might as well get what she wants, right? The fart echoed deeply under the bed as she pushed her anal muscles hard, allowing the trapped balloon of gas to escape in one huge explosion of deep bubbling fart. She made a sort of grunting noise as it escaped her ass and relieved her butthole of the pressure that had been pressing upon it. She turned her head to one side, leapt out of the quilt, and before her victim could respond, she wrapped the quilt over his face, pinning him down with her weight and trapping the poor sap inside the dutch oven that currently housed a raw and potent fart for him to breath in. “No, let me out, it stinks, please”, her victim called out, tugging at the covers to no avail. “No, no, no, take it in, you're in my dutch oven until that smell goes away so breath it in”, she said through a series of cackling laughter. This only made his struggles die down, but he still attempted to escape, each one of his necessary inhalations causing him to groan and gag. “I really don't think you're sniffing loudly enough”, she tutted, holding herself tight above the covers, trapping him in the lingering stench which was flooding his nostrils in a perpetual cycle of agonized stink, “sniff louder, now.” The stupid wimp did as she demanded. She heard him stall before delivering upon her wish and inhaling the rank air of her butt cavern. She smiled, feeling the flesh of her face stretch as the realization of her dominance over him came through to her, a sensation that made her feel both like an utter, evil bitch, and a queen. A queen of stink. “Good. Now, keep breathing it in deeply”, she said, trying to hide laughter as he moaned in an high pitched stutter, “god, it must stink.” Soon, she moved over to the edge of the quilt and peeled back the edge of the cover, and much to her dismay the fumes from inside quickly escaped and began to flood into the room, quickly, she placed the quilt down again to trap the majority of the stink inside. He needed to marinate longer in it, but there was one issue. She needed to fart again. The idea didn't take long to come to fruition. It was quite obvious, really. He was already in a cavern of her horrid stench, he might as well endure more of it. She kept holding the covers down, but pulled herself upright so that she could quickly slip inside. She turned, allowed the covers to peel back a little, and shifted her weight inside before wrapping the covers around her and the poor guy inside. “Please, not this”, he moaned, his echoing voice pathetic in tone and volume. “Yes, this”, she giggled, wiggling her ass on his chest as he wheezed under her weight. She was now sitting on his chest with the tight covers hugging her waist, with a nice fart prepared in her belly. She made sure that the quilt was fully wrapped around them, so that no air of her next release would escape his prison of trumps. The fact that he really didn't put up a fight showed clearly how easy it would be to make this a regular thing. At first she had prepared to stay for a week or so. Now, she thought to herself, she might stay for much longer, with her new sniffing assistant to do her bidding. She didn't need to push the muscles of her anus very hard to allow the two trumpeting explosions to ripple into the vacuum sealed gas chamber her victim occupied, but the relief of it's pressure being unleashed from her gut caused her to close her eyes and sigh heavily, a sigh which was drowned out by the various gagging, dry heaving, and violent rustling of the prisoner of her foul winds. She felt the warmth of the fart fill the already rank air and heard the forced inhalations inside result in loud coughs and moans. “That's it”, she spoke in a near whisper, “take that fart in for me. I bet it stinks.” “Please, let me out”, the slave cried out, “it smells awful”. “Not until the smell goes away, so get sniffing, or I might let another one rip.” With this threat he began to suck in the fart with his nose. The sound of his groans and heavy breathing was absolutely pathetic, and it was exactly the sound she wanted to hear. The sound of him quickly breaking down. After a few minutes of being trapped inside the quilt, she allowed her victim to leave, laying down next to him as she unpeeled the covers and began to waft the stale smell of her three farts away from her. She wasn't too disappointed, the fart smell was present but he wasn't a miracle worker. Most of it had been filtered through him through, a thought which caused her to giggle as she watched him breath in the somewhat fresh air with renewed energy, his face red and his eyes wide with relief. “You do really well”, she grew closer to him, “I think we're going to be very good friends.” That statement didn't seem to make him feel any better. She fell asleep soon after, despite the awkward shifting of her bed-mate, and awoke to the sun bleeding in through the blinds. She moaned, scrubbing away a layer of crust that had developed under her eyes with her dry fingers, before feeling the fleshy outline of her bedmate next to her. He was asleep, his face pale compared to the scarlet hue it had developed last night. Well, she thought to herself, he's had a good sleep, it's time to bring him back into his new reality. And nothing would do that better than a well timed morning fart. She shuffled her hips and manoeuvred her bottom close to his face, feeling the morning fart bubble groan inside her belly as she kept it on the brink of expulsion. When her ass aligned closely to his dozing face, she grunted and pushed out a loud, mid pitched trumpet which blew black his hair and charged into his nostrils the rotten stink of her insides. She laughed as he awoke, choking and gagging, his eyes closed as his face shook violently, pulling back away from the outline of her PJ clad ass, pulling himself back into his unfortunate reality. “Wakey wakey, fart bitch”, she chuckled, “do you like your new alarm clock? It's fuelled by beans.” As she wiggled her ass for emphasis the meaty stink of her forceful gas began to linger in her breathing space. He said nothing, he just sat up slightly in bed. He must've remembered her rules last night, as despite his clear revulsion at being awoken in such a manner, he did not hold his nose, nor did he pull back too much from the smell. “What time is it?” he mumbled softly. “Time for you to get your ass out of bed. I want a lie in today, but I need somebody to do my laundry for me. Since I'm a guest here, I think it's only fair that you wash them for me.” “Seriously?” She didn't like the tone of his voice, so she shot up in bed. “Listen, I didn't ask you, did I? I told you. You are going to be the courteous gentleman and you can put my washing in. It doesn't take long, does it? My gym clothes are really sweaty and need a good clean, so go and do them.” “Fine”, he muttered under his breath, getting up and grabbing the bag. As it shuffled in his hand she let out an audible toot into his bed and giggled as he shook his head and sighed. As he left, the rising stink caused her to close her eyes and release a loud “phew”, as she wafted away the smell and tried to contain it within the bed. It was too late, through, the smell had already escaped. She decided to endure it as she felt herself slip once again into a light sleep. She awoke to the sound of rustling in the kitchen. Yawning, she stretched her body under the quilt before forcing herself out of bed. She walked into the bathroom, feeling her bladder ache, still dressed in her fart imbued PJ's. It was an on-suite bathroom, immaculate and small, much unlike the mess that was hers previously. She took a piss and then felt her morning dump overwhelm her gut. She pushed audibly and destroyed the bowl as she allowed nature to take it's course. The horrid sounds ended with a final splash, and as the waste left her she sighed in great relief. She then quickly smelled the awful fumes emanating from the bowl as she wiped and flushed, almost gagging as the warm fecal air infested her nostrils, a stench so potent it almost burned at her nose. She walked into the kitchen to see her new bitch taking her clean, wet clothes out of the washer. He didn't look up at her but tensed in reaction to her presence. Good, she thought, he was learning to fear her. That would make him more submissive and open to new, more extreme avenues of humiliation at her hands. “Good job”, she clapped twice, “you can do laundry. You are not completely useless.” “Yeah”, he said, sighing, “I've made sure your clothes are clean. They smelled kinda off.” “Well”, she sat up on the side and crossed her legs, “I do have an habit of wearing them out. Also, my sweaty gym socks were in there, and they can smell pretty ripe. Speaking of smells, I would not go into our toilet right now, I just took a huge steaming dump and the smell is unbearable in there at the moment.” “Oh”, he choked out, clearly disgusted but unwilling to talk back to her, “thanks for the warning.” She laughed, “You should be. Trust me, you do not want to go in there for a while, pee-yew”, She held her nose and wafted the fake fumes away to demonstrate what she had already explained in full detail, “I guess those beans yesterday didn't agree with me. Speaking of beans, how did you sleep after your Dutch Oven?” “Well, I struggled. You do fart a lot in your sleep.” She chuckled, “at least you didn't have to deal with them under the covers”. “Yeah, I guess”, he mumbled, still fiddling with my clothes. He bent down to pick up the basket, and as he was piling the clothes inside she decided that she would drop a bomb next to him to further increase her hold over him. A test, if you will. She approached him quickly, turned, bent down so that her ass, still clad in sweaty PJ's, were next to his head, and pushed out a short bubbling fart which echoed in the kitchen as it escaped the grasp of her bowels. Giggling as he groaned and slipped down, before backing away, she began to waft the warm stink towards him. “Remember, don't try and escape it. We're room-mates now, we share our problems. Now finish what you were doing.” “Ugh”, he choked, forcing himself to remain in the stink, an action which caused his abuser to smile deeply, “do I have to? It smells really bad, can't I-” “No”, She interrupted, trying to stare at him with a serious gaze, “just do as I say”. “Fine”, he mumbled, almost whispered, under his breath. Emily relaxed the tension in her shoulders. Emily heard small feet clamping on the linoleum behind her. She turned to face Riley, who happened to walk through a wayward cloud of her fart that had filled the room. Quickly, she held her nose, and made a sort of disgusted gasp. “Emily”, Riley said sternly, “did you let one go?” “Yeah, stinks, doesn't it? I've just been getting my new room-mate used to my smell.” Riley looked towards Stephen, who refused to meet her gaze, his face reddened. “Right, and how is that working out?” “Well”, Emily twisted her head to one side and smiled, “I've been getting him to stop holding his breath around my farts, and I've also got him used to me farting in bed. He's still got a long way to go, but I shouldn't worry about my smell here. He's going to be dealing with it, mainly.” Riley lifted one of her eyebrows, smirking, “are you serious?” “100 percent. Isn't that right, Stephen?” Stephen mumbled something. “I said”, Emily yelled, turning to him, “isn't that right Stephen?” “Yes”, he sighed, embarrassed. “Well”, Riley scoffed openly, shaking her head, “I don't care about where the smell goes, as long as I don't have to deal with it constantly. Stephen, if you are going to take the burden of Emily's farts, perhaps you should do a better job next time of sniffing them up so I don't have to deal with them. That stinks.” Emily smiled and got close to Stephen, who kept reshuffling the laundry awkwardly, “Are you going to apologise to Riley?” “I'm sorry”, he mumbled. Clearly, Riley's presence was making this easy. Emily wasn't sure if he had a crush on her, but he was intimidated enough by them both to agree to something that Emily never expected she would get him to agree to so soon. Her plan was not only working, it was working a lot faster than she had expected. Perhaps she had underestimated Stephen's pathetic nature. “Don't worry”, she grinned at Riley, “I'll make sure he gets better at taking the burden of my smells. If he does, can I stay here?” “What, for more than a few days?” Riley blinked a few times. “Yes, I was comfortable last night, and I am your friend, after all”, Emily could tell that Stephen was listening intently for Riley's answer. After a while, Riley sighed, and stomped her foot softly on the hard ground, “fine, but I'm not cleaning up after you and I better not be on the butt end of your bad habits, no pun intended.” “That's great”, Emily shook her head to hide her beaming smile, “because Stephen is going to deal with both.” Riley shook her head and chuckled softly to herself. Emily loved Riley’s girlish laughter, it was so delicate and feminine, which sort of established itself as a humorous juxtaposition with the mean-spirited nature of what often caused her to laugh in the first place. This time, it was the continued and hasty subjugation of a room-mate that never bothered her directly, but she never respected. Emily thought that Riley didn’t have to do any mental gymnastics to image Stephen being her best friend’s slave. “Ugh”, Emily said, her belly suddenly audibly rumbling, “I think I need to fart. Stephen, get on your knees. It’s time to show Riley how obedient you are.” “Excuse me?” Stephen looked confused, and the way he uttered this was not in protest or defiance, but rather confusion. He seemed both immensely bothered and terrified with the way things were going, but because of the rate Emily was increasing her hold over him, he clearly found it difficult to understand exactly where he was on her scale. “I’m sorry, are you deaf”, Emily approached him and straightened her back, looking into his eyes with a sort of predator’s gaze, “I said, I need to fart. Get on your knees.” “W-What are you going to do to me?” He half whimpered, but no matter how she responded, he would do as she asked. She knew this because as he asked this he was already getting onto his knees like a good little bitch. Riley was holding her lip and had twisted her posture slightly towards one side, a mischievous easy grin displaying both her enjoyment of their one-sided dynamic and her anticipation of what Emily would put poor Stephen through. This, if anything, proved her disdain for her roommate. At least now, Emily thought, Riley knew that Stephen had a use in life, rather than listlessly existing in his dull, uninteresting, friendless existence. It wasn’t all bad for him, at least he had a role in life now. “Give my cute bum a little kiss first”, Emily said, pressing her butt towards him as she leaned slightly forward, giving her hips a comical shake, which indicated her desire to see him humiliate himself using her cheeks. Slowly, he pushed forward on his hands and knees, looking at her ass, not with desire, as he would under normal circumstances, but with a aura of shame which pervaded his entire appearance as he drove himself further into decadence for the sake of a girl he barely knew, likely due to the pressure she masterfully controlled him with. Finally, he bent forwards and planted a kiss on her left cheek, and then, as she pointed towards her right, he gave her right cheek a kiss. Riley was laughing, but silently, not wanting to distract from the tense atmosphere Emily had created with her latest demand. “Now, I think I have a fart ready”, Emily spoke, clearing her throat and bring her legs closer together, before holding onto the side of the kitchen counter and bending down fully, revealing the rump of her ass through her once baggy PJ's, which now hugged the stretched out contours of her fleshy cheeks. Even Riley could now smell the smell of sweat, recalling her friend's often liberal use of the shower, and feeling even more pitied joy at Stephen's predicament. “Press your nose against my ass. You're going to breath it in directly so that Riley doesn't have to smell it”, she said. Soon, she felt his nose encompass her ass, hearing her friend's giggles escape from her behind her. Stephen whimpered as the smell of sweat and stale morning farts etched into the thin fabric of her PJ Bottoms. Still, he kept himself posted at her ass, despite his reluctance and fearful anticipation of the fart to come. The sound of the fart, deep, manly, and rumbling, escaped from her ass before Stephen cried out in an high pitched squeal of disgust, the fart effectively injected into him. He forced himself to stay there, red and humiliated by the fart and the two girls who laughed incessantly, before he could no longer endure the smell. He crashed to the floor and dry heaved. Fortunately, nothing came out, but the smell attached to him and no matter what he did it was still burned into his nostrils. It smelled like rotten eggs. “Oh god”, Riley said, quickly holding her nose, “I can actually smell that. Jesus, it's foul”. Emily began to waft the fart away, “Stephen, apologise to Riley. You didn't do a good enough job and she can smell the fart.” “S-Sorry”, Stephen said between gags, his face almost purple, as if the fart had caused a severe allergic reaction. “You're going to have to teach him to sniff them up better”, Riley said, her face screwed up in disgust. Emily sighed, “I know. Well, he'll learn over the next few days. Stephen will have plenty of practice by Sunday.” The two girls laughed sharply despite the lingering smell of the rotten egg fart. As they did so, Stephen groaned and felt his heartbeat crash through his rib cage. He feared for his future, and he knew that Emily would not make his life very easy from now on. This invasion of his life, of his will, would continue, and there was nothing he could do about it.
PART 2 The large breakfast was beginning to digest and form clouds of gas in Emily’s belly. For some time, she allowed the churning and rumbling to echo inside the caverns of her bowels whilst she built up her farts ready for a practice lesson with Stephen, who was currently sorting through her stuff and changing his room to more accommodate herself. She had only been there a few days, and he was effectively becoming her full-time bitch. Her training sessions would last all morning, the oatmeal and boiled eggs would ensure that. She has had plenty of opportunity to train Stephen in the art of being her complete slave over the past few days, and this lesson was to be his longest yet. She smiled at the thought, holding her belly as the egg caused bubbles of gas to settle inside of her. “Stephen, come here”, she yelled from the room. She heard shuffling from her room as he walked towards her. Riley had gone out to meet her parents, so they both had the whole apartment to themselves today. “Did you want me? I’ve been sorting your stuff out.” He replied in a meek voice. “You can finish that later, I think it’s time for your next training session”, she held her belly, “I told you that the boiled egg and oatmeal would mix perfectly”. He winced as he turned the corner into the room, clearly knowing full well what she was intended to “train” him in, “I'm not feeling so good, can we-” “No”, she demanded, “I will not hear any excuses. I will not take no for an answer. Besides, a little fart never hurt anybody, no matter the smell. Oh, and we'll be doing an endurance test today. It'll get you used to longer periods beneath me.” He made a sort of wheezing sound, “endurance test?” “Yes”, she shifted her weight onto one buttock and held her belly, screwing her face up in an effort to keep the gas at bay, “I sit on your face for a long period of time, you take my weight and gas until I feel you've had enough time down there. It's fairly self-explanatory.” “W-What if I need some fresh air?” He whimpered, refusing to meet her gaze. Emily slowly rose her face to his, staring deep into his avoiding eyes, “well, if you can't deal with it and I don't want to get off of you, that's really too bad, isn't it? What's the point in having you deal with my gas if you can get up whenever you want? This is based on what I think you should take, not what you can take. If I pass your boundaries then that's a good thing, because it means that you're getting more used to being used by me for whatever I want to use you for. Make sense, bitch?” He mumbled something incoherently. She offered him a sharp slap in response. “Ow”, he groaned, rubbing his face, which had now reddened. “I said, does that make sense, bitch?” “Yes”, he mumbled, rubbing his cheek more slowly. “There's more of them if you don't respond to me in the future. Now, let's not waste any more time, go and lay on the sofa. I want to be comfortable when I'm putting you through your endurance test, and you'll be more comfortable too, so don't complain. I don't want you feeling pain when you're already dealing with a lot of shit. See, I can be a good abuser, right? I mean, I do feel bad about slapping you just then, but you did kinda deserve it by not answering me. Oh, and don't worry. I'll make sure you can breath. Don't want you dying on me when there's so much we can do together, huh?” Emily joked, pulling back her hair back into a neat, long ponytail, "although, I can't say what the quality of your breathable air will be." He made a sort of weary gasping noise that Emily decided was an exhausted acceptance of his fate. She relaxed her muscles, knowing now that she had full control over the situation. Slowly, and with a grimace of uncomfortable fear, he laid down on the sofa, blinked heavily a few times, and then sighed as he awaited the mounting of his face. “That's perfect”, Emily smiled down towards him as she spoke softly, in contrast to the aggressive way she was acting when she didn't get what she wanted. She had decided that as long as he did what he was told, she would reward him by being nice. He still would have to deal with her smells and various desires, but she would go easy on the aggression. However, she would be doubly harsh if he failed to listen to her. She wanted to teach him that the only thing to do was what she demanded of him. She turned around seductively to show off the outline of her denim clad ass. She had chosen the tight dark jeans as they contorted to her figure and presented her full frame perfectly. She wore them almost as a fashion statement: Sure, she may fart, but she will look good doing so. She had always taken pride in her appearance and level of fitness for her own sake, but she still hated how her ex's used her for her body. This, she thought, wrapping herself around his face, was a perfect compromise. Then, the idea came to her. She got all the pleasure she needed from the poor guy beneath her. She no longer needed a boyfriend to fill that hole in her heart, or at the very least to pleasure her. Her weight and tight denim pressed down hard on his nose, causing him to groan in pain. She giggled and thought of how helpless he sounded. This was all the pleasure she now needed in life. In that instant she knew that this was not going to be a temporary arrangement. “Right, remember, when I fart, you sniff my butt. Is that understood?” There was silence. Disobedience would be punished. She pressed her full weight down without second thought, crushing his nose beneath her as she raised her legs off the ground. He thrashed and screamed as his face gave into the pressure before him. She stopped before any permanent damage was done. “I said, is that understandable?” He half wept, half croaked out a muffled groan of acceptance, still panting from the pain. “Good”, she chuckled in a high pitched, joyful tone, “do as I say, and I won't need to do anything like that again. Now, I really do need to let one go, so make sure you bring the trump into your system and learn to take it in. If you don't, expect an harsh punishment.” It came out like an elongated whale growl, a bubbling, deep, humid roar which shook the flesh of her cheeks and his face as it escaped her like some violent wind, an expulsion of gas which was so intense it appeared to warp through her intestines as if some deep source was feeding it, allowing it to grow into a behemoth of stink, cracking against the shrieking face of the bitch beneath. Still, he did as he was told. She felt the desperate shallow suction on his nose as he forced himself to inhale that foul thing which sent waves of disgust through him. He had no choice, he realized, and the torturous alternatives drove him to bring the smell of the fart in, inhaling it deeply against his own will. She shifted her hips and released a high pitched sigh of relief. “Not bad”, she twisted her head and looked down at the pathetic thing beneath her as a waft of her smell made it's way up to her, “but next time, really draw in the fart, really allow it to become your sole source of air. I mean, it's a good start but I'm going to need to see some improvements and soon if you wish to avoid any punishment. The good news is, you get to try again right now”. Before giving him time to react to that, she lifted herself to one side and pushed out a deep, unladylike fart which bubbled violently in the small space between her arse and his nose. The force of the fart pushed out from her jeans and cooked his nose in a sweaty, disgusting smell. It was a warm, gooey fart that caused her ass crack to sweat, etching the smell inside the creases of her arsehole. She felt dry heaving soon after she felt the air of his breathing, but he did better than before. Still, from the way he choked on the fart, he still had a lot to learn about endurance. It wasn't going to get better for him, she thought, but she didn't want it to. “That's better, but you still need to breath it in more intensely. Sure, it's a stinky fart, but you really need to make sure that you inhale it properly. I can still smell a bit of that fart, and I shouldn't have to”. She wasn't lying either. A brief cheesy whiff, intense and well defined in it's potent grossness, had passed her nose for a short while as it escaped the forceful inhalations of the guy who suffered beneath her. He would need to do better, and opportunity would soon strike for improvement. It was about 20 minutes later, her slave more relaxed beneath her, when she lifted her ass and spoke to him in soft but direct tones, “I have another fart, and it's going to be a monster. Are you ready to sniff it? This is your chance to prove that you can do your new job well. I don't want to have to punish you.” There was a silence before he choked and spoke back, “y-yes, I'm ready”. The last part was almost cried out. It was enough to pity him, but pity wasn't enough to stop her. Not now, it was too late for him. He was hers, and there was nothing that would bring his life back to what it was. She lowered her weight and as soon as her butthole was adjusted against his nose, she pushed and allowed the power-house fart to roar out of her anus, a painful burst of fiery swamp gas which coiled and rumbled into something that sounded utterly foul. His screams came almost instantly, only interrupted by his long, pained sniffs which felt like heaven against her sweaty arsehole. She could almost orgasm to the feeling of his breath piercing the thin denim. She loudly sniffed the air soon after, the slave beneath her still breathing heavily, his eyes wet and damp against the denim ass of his master. There was barely any smell, which was not to be expected with such a foul fart. God, did he take all of that in? He seems to be progressing fast, she thought, but god, he must be suffering. Perhaps a bit of praise is necessary. “You did pretty good, slave. You've successfully avoided punishment. Still, you've got some time to mess up, so remember, you need to make sure that you maintain the sniffing no matter how long you're down there, and no matter how bad the fart is.” He was too busy dry heaving and weeping softly to respond, but she knew that he heard her, and she knew now that he would do whatever she said. It was getting into afternoon at this point, but he wasn't finished yet. He still had some time to sniff. She soon let off a series of rippling, humid farts, farts which echoed in the cramped space of her tight ass crack and bubbled viciously into the inhaling nose of the poor guy beneath her. His writhing vibrated both of her cheeks as he forced himself to suck out from the rank denim of his abuser the warm stink of her trailing farts. It appeared as if the last of her breakfast gas came out in the series of gaseous poofs of fetid mist, warm coils of sulphuric air which sizzled his tortured nostrils with the airy force of her emptying bowels. They smelled of shit, and their wet heat drowned his nostrils no matter how much he breathed them in, gagging, choking, crying violently. Jesus, Emily thought, he must be having a pretty hard time with those farts. Her diet didn't make this easy on him, and as she planned to give him a break, something which would now became a scarcity in his life, she didn't expect his day to get any easier. In fact, if anything, the difficulty of his breathing would only intensify as the eggs and beans that were a staple of her diet created foul bowel fog which would remain bloated inside her until it's eventual release atop of him. “Now, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear, but your endurance is over”, she moved her ass to one side to give him space to breath, “you did better towards the end, you sniffed that beast really well, but I expect you to keep that up.” He coughed, inhaling the fresh air quickly, “I- I will.” “Good”, she shifted a long strand of her hair as she smiled at him, “now that your endurance is over, perhaps it's time for me to tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to stay here permanently. Riley should be fine with it, as long as you'll be my little servant. Sniffing farts, doing chores for both me and Riley, cleaning the place, you will be quite the busy guy.” “Oh”, his face expanded as if it was a sponge, his eyes wide and his mouth quivering, “o-ok”. “Right, even through you are my little bitch, I am thankful for what you're doing for me, not that you have much choice. Still, I wouldn't sniff my own gas, so it must be pretty hard for you down there”, she pointed to her own ass as she grinned at his welling eyes, “anyway, I want dinner. Could you make me a fry up, with eggs, bacon, beans, and sausage? I think it's fair to say that you'll be spending more time with me during and after dinner, so grasp that fresh air whilst it lasts.” As he went away to make her dinner, she sighed, and rested against the sofa. She hadn't been this happy in years. Previously her life was just listless, boring and full of boring sex that she didn't even like. Now she had focused on her own pleasure, and had obtained her first slave. She just hoped that she didn't need another one ever again, because this one's a keeper.
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