The Erica Saga, Part 4: "Tub"
by Story-anon

Licking her sharting ass for minutes on end was hell beyond comprehension. Eventually I found myself coughing and gagging, kneeling on the bathroom floor. Erica ignored me entirely and flushed the toilet. Three times in a row I licked her butt clean of sharts and every time I finished she'd just let them loose again with not a care in the world but an evident smirk of amusement. Sitting there on the floor, I began to think she was finally done.

She briskly walked over to the bathtub and cranked the knob, sending a stream of water from the shower head to the bottom of the tub.

"Take off your clothes," she demanded. "Get in and wash off your face."

I didn't have it in me to do anything but obey. Shaking, I stumbled to my feet, took off my clothes, and clambered into the shower. The freezing water made me recoil, but I was able to recover and I rinsed the shit off of my face slowly. There was a pillow in the bathtub. Huh. As it all went down the drain, Erica reached over and switched it from showerhead to faucet, set the water to hot, and plugged the tub.

"Lie down," she told me. "Now."

I did so slowly. What was next?

Erica lifted up her leg like she was cocking a gun, and spurted out a long, wet ass blast into the room.

SPRKKKRKKKRRRRERRUURT

It already smelled like the depths of hell, but that rank fart would have killed a field of roses had one been around. She looked down at me and stepped into the bathtub, standing over me. Before I could react, she pivoted and shoved her entire body onto my face. While I fit easily into the tub, her body rubbed together with the sides of it. Without the pillow for a cushion, I felt like I might have been crushed entirely by her. Her overfilled cheeks slid down the sides of my head, ensnaring my face in a buttcrack that should legally have been considered a weapon of mass destruction. She slid around on my face, the sweat and ass juice smearing all over, until my mouth was flush with her butthole.

BRRRRRBLLLRLLLRT

As soon as it was, she unleashed a demonic fart into my mouth. I coughed and twisted, but couldn't even close to escape. She lifted up her legs a bit, letting all of her weight fall onto my head, punishing me for moving. I tried to scream, but she only positioned her butthole over my open mouth.

Then the water rose past my head.

My body instantly went into panic mode. I struggled and bucked. Her enormous girth kept me steadily in place, though, forcing me to stay still. And I was operating off full survival instincts. My monkey brain was screaming at me that I was underwater and not in control of my own breathing, and would drown soon. The water pushing against my nose wasn't helping. But still she sat, and soon my struggles waned once more.

It was undeniable at this point that she'd gained weight, a lot more than I'd thought she had during the earlier torture, enough to keep me down despite a fight for survival. I was once again subject to her body; her lowest and most disgusting part subjugating my vital breathing organs, her digestive system commanding my respiratory system. And oh, it was a system she certainly planned to abuse. As if to remind me, her bowels jumped and churned above me. The rumble sound gained a unique timbre as it was conducted by not air but water, pulsing in my ears to herald the arrival of her next assault.

The gurgle reached its apex with the trademark muffled "ouubb" of gas filling a rectum, from her the sound of a reload, and she fired her deadly machine gun.

PPPB-PPB-BP-PT-TP-TRT-PRT-P-P-P-P

She let loose a thick, juicy, ripping fart into my open mouth, assaulting my tongue with her vile stench. With no other air available to me, I had no choice but to suck it down my throat like it was keeping me alive - which, from a certain perspective, it may just have been.

She started saying something to me, but all her words were wasted. Though I was preoccupied with my fight for survival with her enormous behind as my lungs filled with her toxic gases, she had overestimated the acuity of sound to travel through even the calmest of waters. Assumedly it was something to the effect of what I had realized well enough on my own - her farts were my only air.

Left with no other choice, I breathed out through my nose. The carbon dioxide bubbled up through the bathtub and burst onto the water's surface, causing Erica to start laughing and laughing at my predicament. The motion caused her to bounce up and down on my face, which wasn't the most pleasant of additions to my predicament, and it caused her to start uncontrollably spitting out hot farts into my mouth. The sulfuric, fecal taste was torturous, but I was terrified to think what would happen if I gagged. Did she still care about me enough to keep me from drowning, or had our breakup sapped what emotions she had for me to the point that she'd let me experience the world's most humiliating death: drowning under a fat girl's huge butt in a bathtub, lungs filled with fart air? It chilled me to know that, seeing how she'd been treating me so far, she really might not care. At one point in time I'd adored the ass above me, now it was an instrument of my torment.

BRRRBRMMBBMBRPPBRMBPPPRPPRP

She cut another huge one, a several-second ripper starting out low and rumbly and ending sharp and spitting. I sucked it in greedily despite its foul taste, as even with the ample air she was providing me from her digestive tract, the oxygen wasn't cutting it.

But she certainly was cutting it - several in fact. She loosed more and more gross bombs into my unwillingly waiting receptacle of a mouth as the minutes ran together, bleeding into each other. I kept breathing out through my nose as, independent of the water, my head began to swim.

She dropped fart after fart, little pffts and purts, one after the other, feeding me what little oxygen I could take from them. Their gross taste stuck on my tongue, disgusting my senses. Finally, I was certain that this was my end. Oxygen deprivation would take me out real soon, and after that there was no way I'd be able to keep from breathing in the water and drowning. Goodbye, cruel world. What a way to go.

And then, with all the frivolity and flippant manner of one taking a regular bath with nothing abnormal about it, she was off my head. Acting entirely on instinct, my body propelled itself up on its own and gasped in air.

"Alright, I think I'm out of gas," she said, before another big gurgle slammed down in her lower body. "Ooh, god, nevermind," she amended, slamming down her big dripping butt onto the toilet and letting out a crackling messy blast, before starting to push out the enormous turd that had no doubt been brewing in her belly this whole time.

"Be glad I'm not making you sniff this up," she remarked to me as I gaped at her, unable to comprehend how superficially she'd just treated my torture. But that was all she had time to say, as hyperventilating after having been deprived of air was all my conscious brain had left in it to do. Yet again, I fainted.

I was unconscious before I hit the floor.

TO BE CONTINUED