He was exactly where I expected him to be. I was a stranger to him, just a pretty face floating through the high grass as he finished reading the chapter of the fantasy book which he had been prowling over for the last minute or two. Little did he know, I knew him far more intimately than he could have possibly imagined.

“Hey, you. I’m going to fart, and you’re going to smell it”, my voice came out in a blunt, high pitched squeak. I was proud to have maintained complete confidence in myself as I uttered this statement, especially considering how odd it sounded rolling off my tongue.

The weedy guy, sat by himself on the bench, turned around with a confused grimace on his face, “sorry”, he mumbled awkwardly, “did you say something?”

“I’m holding in a fart. I’m going to move my butt next to your face and release it. Then, you’re going to smell the fart and thank me for farting so close to your face.”

His eyes widened and his lips sunk into his pointed face as he shuffled atop the bench, “sorry, I don’t understand. Is this some kind of prank?”

My eyes twitch slightly at his utter bewilderment, “You don’t understand? Are you stupid? I explained pretty clearly what’s going to happen. I am going to move my ass-”, I turned around and bent down a little, allowing my perky rump to push against the black panelled knee length skirt which wrapped around my waist, “-next to your face, and I’m going to fart. You will sniff the fart, and then thank me for letting it rip on your face. Do you understand this time, moron?”

“Wh- Why would- I don’t-”

I role my eyes, “ugh, stop fucking stammering. I don’t have time to explain anything further. Look, just get ready for my fart, okay?”

I begin to edge closer towards him, walking with long strides as he shifted uneasily towards the end of the seat. Turning around quickly as he stared at me in shock, too confused by my abrupt intrusion on this once peaceful day, he almost fell off the seat as I bend down and begin edging my ass closer to his face.

He soon shakes himself from the stupor, and as my ass releases a long whistle of a fart, lightly pushing against the skirt with a fizzle of warm air, he moves his head to one side before quickly standing up, his face red and his mouth slightly ajar in disgust.

“What the fuck?” I hold out my arms, letting them fall against my side as I turn around, “what are you doing? I told you to stay put and sniff that fart, you moved out the fucking way. I can smell it, now.” I really could, too, the rotten veggie smell mixed with the smell of pollen which drifted in from the edge of trees surrounding the park corner.

“What is wrong with you?” he whined, his reddened face increasing in intensity as he lightly coughed, realizing that he had moved through the initial cloud of fart my butt released in his direction. At least he caught some of it, but it wasn’t good enough.

I held one hand on my hip and pushed out my lips as I leaned over to one side, “Look, I’ll think about forgiving your disobedience if your crawl over to my bum, press your nose into my crack, and wait for the next fart to come out. Whilst you’re waiting, you will sniff the remainder of the stale fart trapped in my skirt, deodorizing the fabric with your nostrils, and ask for my forgiveness. I’ve had cabbage for lunch, so the smell will linger for a while. Oh, and when I do fart, I want you to inhale it. You cannot leave until I’m satisfied that you’ve smelled it properly.”

The guy seemed generally flustered by my actions, my absurd demands confusing him immensely. Whilst that wasn’t my primary intention, I wasn’t exactly surprised he refused to smell my fart. I mean, what kind of freak willingly sniffs a strangers fart in public? Still, I was a harsh mistress, and even if his refusal made sense, it still made his situation all the more worse for him.

“I’m not doing that”, he shook his head, his face reddening even further, “you’re disgusting, expecting some random guy to do that for you. Just leave me alone, I’ve done nothing to you.”

I snort out a snotty chuckle, rubbing my nose with my rest, “you need to trust me on this, you will have your dutiful nose in my sweaty butt soon enough no matter what you say, so you may as well make this easier on yourself and resign yourself to the fact that this is going to happen. You don’t have to like this, in fact, smelling a fart sounds gross, but either way within the next few minutes you will have your face firmly inside my crack after I let one rip.”

“No, that’s-”

I shushed him with a hiss of my tongue before continuing, “there’s no “but” or “if” here, I know that you will be smelling my butt and fart very soon. I’d say in the next few minutes at the latest. You should crawl over here now and save me all the hassle, placing your nose directly here”, I pressed my finger into the hem of my skirt, tracing the warm outline of my crack, “and waiting for me to cut the cheese. If I have to wait any longer, I’m going to have to punish you for not doing exactly as you have been told to do.”

“This is ridiculous”, he stepped back a few inches, nearly tripping over a hole in the ground, “you can’t force me to smell your fart.”

I sigh deeply, closing my eyes as I swish my fringe out of my eyes, “I warned you. Your name is Harry Drakeford, you are a 27 year old computer technician at Paul’s PC’s, and you live at 131 Westford Avenue. You live alone and you keep the key stashed under the plant pot nearest your window.”

“What the- who are you?” His face twisted into a sudden grimace of terror as I effortlessly informed him of my knowledge of his personal life. I couldn’t help but allow a small piercing side smirk emerge from my deadpan grimace as he stammered in bewilderment.

I quickly disguised my glee and stared deeply into him, “I’m the girl who’s fart you are going to sniff.”

In reality, my name was Kira Robinson, a delightfully sadistic girl who was enjoying every second of the build up to Harry’s eventual humiliation. I had first seen him stumbling haphazardly out of his office, and immediately I sensed his weakness. Bumbling voice, bad posture, limp wrists cast awkwardly at his sides. He was the type of person I could easily push to do what I want, all in the name of fulfilling my fucked up desire to utterly humiliate others. So, I followed him, gathered all the information I could, and set up his downfall. It was easy, really, as long as you were willing to take a few calculated risks. And, of course, the process was almost as fun as it’s conclusion.

I’ve always wanted to make a guy sniff my farts, something about the humiliation of proudly standing tall as a bullied loser kneels in front of your flatulent bottom, shaking face remaining in your crack out of pure fear over the very real prospect of you destroying them if they refuse to breathe in the gas your gut has ready for them. Releasing a sordid chuckle as your waste fumes are forced into the nostrils of the guy kneeling before you, the thought was almost enough for me to get off whenever it tickled the forefront of my admittedly disturbed mind.

“You see, poor widdle’ Harry, I know all about you. I know how to access your apartment, and I sure as fuck know that I could easily ruin you if I was to call the police now and tip them off about my friend’s panties that I hid carefully in your house. After all, she was assaulted last week and the police really want to know who did it.”

His face immediately twisted into a grimace of horrified fear. Oh boy, this was easy.

“Or”, I held my chin, “perhaps they would be interested in the stuff that you have on your computer. A diary entry confessing to the killing of that woman who went missing last year. You know, murder can land you in prison for 30 years, or you might even get you placed into a hospital for the criminally insane. Those places are not any easier than prison, trust me. Or, you know, perhaps an evil girl framed you in some other way that you would never guess. I’ve had access to your life for longer than you think, and I’m very crafty.”

“But- I haven't done anything”, his eyes grew large and his lips began to quiver. I was worried for a while that he would think my plans for his possible downfall were too over the top, even if I did have a backup plan for his disobedience. But with the pathetic tone of his voice, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted.

“The police won’t know that. Trust me, I am very careful, I could ruin your with one phone call. Perhaps, since you’re refusing to do as I demand, I should go now and lead them to you. After all, it’s not as if they will believe your pathetic story about a sweet nineteen year old college girl, with no criminal history, framing you and then asking you to smell her fart. What a ridiculous story that would be, huh?”.

I turned and began to walk, knowing that it wouldn’t be for long. And as I expected, his pleading voice uttered a sharp beg.

“No”, he cried, “please”.

I turned, raising one eyebrow, finding it difficult to not allow my wide grin to ruin my casual, confidant image, “what is it? You have something to say before you spend the next few decades in prison?”

“No”, he got to his knees, his eyes tearing him as the realization of who he faced came upon him, “please, I’ll do anything. I- I’ll s-sniff your fart.”

Allowing my smile to show through, although only in one minx twist of my lips, I slowly pulled away a lock of long fringe, placing one hand on my hip, “that’ll be a good start”.

Turning around, I feel the bloat inside my gurgle inside my belly. What perfect timing, I thought to myself, as I bent down, allowing my ass to push through the dark grey skirt, a bubble of flesh which pressed against the fabric tightly. I turn my head and look at him.

“You’re going to crawl up to my ass and place your nose right here”, I point at the position of my anus beneath the skirt and tights, “make a seal with your nose and wait for the fart to come. Whatever you do, do not pull away when I let one go, sniff it up until I tell you to stop. And make it enjoyable for me, after all you are saving your life from being utterly ruined.”

“Y-Yes”, he said, “c-could I just-”

“Crawl over here now”, I yelled, biting my lip like an unamused brat, “I have a fart coming and I want to let it rip when your face is in my bum.”

He mumbled under his breath, releasing a single, pathetic weep, and then got to his hands and knees slowly. I turned my head and closed my eyes as my stomach lurched with the coming fart, a smile penetrating my stoic expression as I heard his reluctant crawling.

His nose entered slowly at first, his lips quaking around a disgusted and embarrassed whimper as my smug ass slowly faded around the skin of his nose. He left it dangling mid way into my crack.

“Deeper”, I demand, my smile returning as I feel his shaking snout push into my bum, wedging the hem of my skirt into my warm crack.

“Can you still smell my last fart?” I ask, holding back my current one as I teased him. He gulped and slowly nodded, his nose inadvertently rubbing against the stink. I hide a chuckle as he detected my last release, now grown stale in the tainted fabric of my skirt. Those fuckers can linger, that’s for sure.

“Whatever”, I exhale, “get ready, bitch, my fart is ready. And don’t forget, you’re not allowed to pull away. Just know, it’s not supposed to smell nice.”

Without any delay, I twist my bottom to one side, his nose still firmly planted in my crack, before pushing out a warm flood of sizzling gas which echoed in the chamber of his nostrils. He immediately yelped, but remembering my threat, remained secure in place, his face vibrating as he forced himself to endure the potent smell my butt had just delivered.

Still, the smell quickly overpowered him, and soon he couldn’t put up with it any longer. He began to pull away, so I shot out my hand and grasped the back of his head, my fingers weaving through his hair as I pulled on it to keep him locked in place. The forceful guidance appeared to keep him in check, his mouth opening to unleash a gurgling heave which sounded like a choking animal. Clearly, he had never smelled a fart up close before.

The smell of rotten cheese quickly blew by, clearly released when his face had pulled out of my ass. Wrinkling up my nose, I tightened by grip, causing him to yelp in-between his agonized inhalations.

“That wasn’t good enough, you pulled away. Now, you’re going to wait there until I need to fart again and we’re going to do this over.”

He released a pathetic whine, his head shaking more violently as he realized he would have to endure the humiliation of another fart. Poor freak has no idea what is coming, does he?

“It’s not going to be too long, but you are going to remain firmly in my ass, and if I feel you pull away before, during, or after my fart, we will do this again. You are not getting away with half-arsing this, loser, you will properly sniff my fart even if it takes you all day.”

I let go of his head and, learning his lesson, he remained still in my ass, the only sound his occasional struggled inhale of my stale fart. He also whined softly, his protests broken by my threat. Perhaps the fart had dissipated enough to be bearable, or perhaps he simply recognized that I was not going to take kindly to his struggles, but either way I was pleased with his sudden obedience. I was just curious if he could keep this up after I cut another stinker.

As promised, the brewing of another fart happened fairly quickly after my last release. I felt the tugging wind inside me, the soft anal cramps which came to me warning of the lurking release. I bit my lip as I felt it curdle internally, allowing myself to savour it’s build up almost as much as I would enjoy it’s eventual liberation from my intestines.

“Ugh, it’s here”, I shook my hip a little, feeling his face quake in my round butt, “don’t forget this time, moron, your job is to sniff it up. It’s not supposed to be pleasant”.

With that, I grunted and pushed out a loud bubbling rip of a fart, feeling it’s vibrations carry over my victim’s face as he quickly tightened his stance, clearly fighting against the urge to escape. Then, the delightful sensation of his forced inhalation tickling my crack came, and I released a short, quiet squeak of arousal.

Half way into his inhalation, he began to cough and splutter, perhaps overwhelmed by the heat and smell of my meaty fart. Fortunately for him, he was able to remain in my ass, but from the retching cough which now afflicted him, such preservation clearly took a toll on his poor lungs. From the rippling sound of my release, it must have been quite potent, and I imagine it was not particularly easy to filter. Then again, that's his problem, not mine.

“Jesus, that's pathetic. You’re literally smelling a girl's fart directly from her butt. You really are a loser, aren't you?”

No verbal response was uttered, only a muffled whine of humiliation which gave me the distinct notion that things were going well. He needed to know that I could do and say what I wanted, and that he would have to deal with it. I would have to be careful here, I didn't want to push him too far too soon, or he may decide to take his chances with the blackmail threat I made. That would be a mistake, but by the time he realized the lengths I had truly gone to retroactively punish him if he decided to refuse to do as I demanded, I would not have my little gas guzzler snorting trumps from my sweaty butt. I also didn't want to take things slowly, for I didn't want to wait too long to fulfil my desires. It was a balancing act, and to be fair to myself, I was going pretty good so far.

“Now, I want you to apologize for failing to smell my first two farts properly.”

He released a muffled whine of apology.

“That’s not good enough. I can’t fucking hear you, fart sniffer.”

“I’m sorry”, he cried out, almost choking on the words, his voice quiet in the ass pressed against his face, “I-I’m sorry for failing to smell your farts.”

“You should be”, I sniffled, shaking my ass about as he strained to keep himself in place, “if I want you to sniff my farts, you’ll sniff my farts. You have to understand that if you don’t want me to destroy your life. So, are you going to smell my next fart properly?”

“But I did-”

“Shut the fuck up,” I said, rolling my eyes, “smelling one fart properly isn’t good enough. You need to show me that you can smell farts with skill, one lucky fart gobbled up isn’t enough. Now, I’m going to fucking ask again, are you going to smell my next fart properly, or what?”

He was silent for a moment before a meek and tearful squeak vibrated against my ass, “yes”.

I pulled my long hair behind my ear, sighing, “good, now wait. It won’t be long”.

To be perfectly honest, I could have farted right there and then. I had enough gas at my disposal to do so. But I wanted him to fucking sweat waiting for what he had to deal with. It wasn’t enough for him to prove he was a good fart sniffer, he had to feel the anxiety of his position, which meant he needed enough time to realize how truly awful his position was. It was all part of the overall humiliation fantasy I was so far successful in carrying out, power over him was even more important than the act of smelling my fart. Also, waiting had the added benefit of letting my gas build up. I wanted to see how he’d deal with a more powerful trump.

When the time was right, and without any warning, I felt the muscles of my anus open up around a gasping burst of air which rumbled loudly between my cheeks and out my skirt, making the small bubble of fabric near his nose expand with the force of the gas. Pulling him into the fart by grasping his hair, I crammed his nose up my ass mid-release, feeling the cork of his nose slow the fart down considerably until it was a slow escape of flatulence trailing deep into his shaking nostrils.

Gagging and coughing, his nose took the full extent of the fart as he balanced himself, forcing himself to stay put where his nose had blocked the smell from escaping. His muffled whining was interspersed with violent, disgusted choking, and looking back I saw his screwed up eyelids releasing a few wayward tears. Whether or not he was crying due to my bullying or due to the strength of my intestinal methane was unclear, but I was just glad to have such a harsh affect on him.

“That’s right”, I hiss, “deal with the smell of my fart, loser.”

He was dealing with it, but from the various gags and heaves behind me, he was really struggling. Too fucking bad for him, that won’t be the last fart he gobbles up either. I wanted to make this really worth all the research I put into him. He had to remember this for the rest of his life, even if it did traumatize him severely.

“You dealt with that fart quite well, loser,” I snorted, “the thing is, I still have a lot of gas, so you are going to have to smell quite a few more farts.”

“No”, his voice came out in a hoarse cry, “I did what you asked, you promised!”

“Sorry bitch”, I exhaled arrogantly, sniffling loudly, “I didn’t promise a thing. I said that you had to smell my next fart, I never said it would be the last one you have to smell. And it wasn’t, so deal with the fact that you are going to smell more farts and stop being such a fucking pussy.”

“B-Bu-”

“Shut the fuck up”, I yelled, ramming my ass into his face, feeling the sharp point of his nose crash hard against my crack as he yelped, “if you don’t want me to ruin your fucking life, you will let me continue to fart into your face. So, be the pathetic loser you were destined to be and listen carefully. You are going to get down and lay face up on the grass.”

His voice came out in a high pitch squeal, “please, I can’t take any more.”

“You can, and you will. Now, get down on the grass, or I’ll make your life not worth living.”

Without another words, but with enough varied tortured emotion to fill a novel, he slowly pulled himself onto the grass. Tears now flowed freely down his defeated face as he gave into my latest demand. I slowly twirled my hips from side to side, loosening any trapped wind in my belly so I could easily let it rip against his face later. I let him enjoy the view for a while, my ass so far above him, acting as a symbol of his bind to me. It didn’t matter what he did, the sweaty ass above him which I felt softly jiggle with each impressive twirl of hip, would soon be sat comfortably atop him, the bubbling gurgle of my stomach roaring from out my damp white shirt a sign of what was to come.

“By the way, I feel some really nasty ones brewing, so it might get really gross and smelly down there. That’s no excuse to try and move your nose away, through. Understand?”

“Y-Yes”, his voice was barely a squeak, wracked with fear, more a shrill noise than a word. If he was that scared, it meant he wasn’t stupid. He knew that this was going to be incredibly unpleasant. Laying on the hard grass, the anticipation must’ve been hell. Well, I guess it was time to deliver.

I didn’t take my time sitting on his face. I simply plopped myself down. Unfortunately for his poor nose, I lifted my skirt a little, pressing my tights clad bottom around his face, the crack opening wide to make a new home for his nose. Too bad that new home smelled like stale farts and raw sweat, but that’s his problem. My own air was fresh despite the occasional waft of my last couple of farts, the scent of dry crisp leaves interspersed with an undertone of decayed meat. I enjoyed the unjust dichotomy. I, the evil blackmailer, was enjoying the fresh scent of dried grass, whilst my innocent victim was enduring the smell of my ass. The world is truly unfair, isn’t it?

My little hip dance appeared to do the trick, because soon my butt-hole ached with the need to release my latest concoction. Even before I let it out, I felt my stomach plead with my bottom to allow the growing pressure to be depleted, my growing bloat becoming almost visible against my petite belly.

Shifting my hip slightly, my face screwing up and reddening, I felt the monster approach. Unleashing an uncharacteristically deep grunt, I pushed until my bottom began to vibrate nosily with the squelching vile roar of my gas. It was like the brassy groan of an old horn, almost comical it was that loud and violent, and the warm stink which came flooding out my anus blasted my poor victim’s nose until he squealed like a little pig.

“Fuck me”, I exhaled deeply, shifting my hip to lock my ass firmly on his shaking face. He struggled with the smell, heaving and crying out but unable to move his face away from his sulphuric hell. Just as intended, he had no recourse against the smell of my gut smog, and happily I crossed my arms and relaxed above his suffering.

Before I could even smugly insult him, my ass released a small pop of gas which I barely registered, causing me to hiccup in shock. What a pleasant surprise! Well, the poor victim didn’t seem to find it pleasant, as his choking only increased as the warm air formed a larger cloud with the pre-existing stink.

I cleared my throat, “excuse me, loser, could you stop crying like a pathetic little bitch and just endure the stink of my fart? I know it’s vile, but I’d rather you suffer in silence.” This wasn’t true, I enjoyed the noise of his struggle, but I had an image to keep.

My next fart didn’t take long to prepare. Soon, I was leaning forward, pushing out the vile blast of methane explosion against the nose of my personal gas filter. He did not enjoy it, breathing in spicy fart with every breath as the air was sealed in his nose. Some of it eventually escaped, causing my own nose to be disturbed with the smell of eggs and shit, but I took solace in the fact that he was suffering far more than I ever had in my whole life. And why? Because I decided that I wanted him to.

As his muffled cries vibrated against my ass, I released a relieved exhale and pressed more weight down onto his nose, causing his gags and coughs to be interrupted with a grunt of pain, “did that one smell as bad as it sounded?”

He whined in confirmation.

“Aww, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Keep smelling it, bitch boy, I brewed it just for you.”

He took two more farts like this, each time his air being choked with fart fumes, until his breathing space was 100% air from my ass. Any semblance of fresh air had been ruthlessly extracted by the influx of intestinal smog from my perky ass, a process which had been as hellish as it’s conclusion. Unfortunately, my belly had deflated somewhat, my stomach no longer groaning with fart bloat. I still had a bit of gas, but it was disappointing that the majority of it had died down.

My ass was ablaze with the heat of my past farts, and my sweat and grime had accumulated uncomfortably in my crack. I hadn’t taken a shower in nearly 24 hours, so I could feel the sweat encrusted peach fuzz of my asshole itch against the walls of my crack. Whilst I wasn’t a fan of it’s sensation, the irritation it was presenting gave me a sick idea. I looked down at my victim and smiled.

“Ugh”, I snarl, “my ass is so sweaty. It’s so fucking gross. Excuse me victim, I want you to clean my ass.”

He released a confused groan.

“Just so you know, you’re going to clean it with your tongue.”

A sharp cry echoed against the fleshy wall of my bottom, and I bit my lip in an attempt to stifle laughter.

“If you don’t want me to fucking ruin your life, you’re going to do as I say. Don’t be a pussy and clean my stinky butt.”

I lifted my ass from his face, causing him to immediately gulp at the air.

“No”, he stuttered, coughing violently as I slowly pulled down my tights and panties, “not that, please, I’ll do anything else.”

“You’re going to do this”, I sniffed loudly, shaking my butt out of my dirty pink panties, “and whilst you do, eat any fart I let out. I do NOT want to smell them right now, that would be so gross.”

He pleaded once more, but his pathetic begs went on deaf ears. Defeated, his lips lay parted as I demanded, ready for my butt. Grabbing both cheeks and pulling them apart, he looked directly into the source of his suffering and released a garbled heave of disgust. The smell of BO was even detectable by my nose, so it must’ve been really ripe down there.

I lowered my ass over his mouth, forcing his lips to part around the outline of my asshole. Shifting as his reluctant tongue began to lap at my crack, retreating at first as the grime imbedded space of my bare ass sent a shock wave of nausea to hit at his stomach, I felt an instant shiver of pleasure rise throughout my body, the wet chill of his clean-up one of the best feelings I had ever received.

As he continued to clean up my ass, I unleashed a dry, hot blast of gas, shaking in arousal as his tongue was pushed back by the fetid air. His tongue shrivelled in disgust, but continued cleaning, knowing what I could do if he dared to disobey my primary order.

After a few minutes, he was done, thankful to pull his tongue back into the open cavern of his mouth. I merely relaxed quietly, my chest still heaving from the sensation of his tongue. Whilst it had been refreshing, the wet weight of his mouth seemed to have had an affect on my stomach. Like before, the bloat had returned, this time more heavy and compact.

I grunted and forced out a steaming gust of hot air which burned my surprised victim’s throat. It must’ve been absolutely disgusting, because he began to heave more violently than ever before. The fart had not helped clear my stomach of it’s burden, either, which surprised me until my quivering lips widened against the realization of what was going on.

Looking down at him, I pushed down my weight, ensuring he could not shut his mouth at all, “ugh. I need to take a huge dump”.

At first, he seemed somewhat relieved, thinking that I would have to stand up to go to the bathroom. There was an alternative solution, through, and it took him a few seconds of my remaining sat above over his mouth and a huge rumble from my belly for him to realize it.

Screaming in desperate pleading, his legs kicked up, but could do nothing to push off my weight or close his mouth. With a smile, I shook my ass around and released another fart.

“Open wide, loser. This isn’t going to be very pleasant.”

******

I had the time of my life torturing my slave, and I enjoyed every second of it. As I adjusted my skirt, the destroyed man was throwing up into the grass a few feet away, completely broken by his day of stink torture. He had no fight left, but fortunately for him, I had emptied my stomach of everything, so I had nothing left to torment him with.

“That was fun, slave. You did an acceptable job, perhaps I won’t ruin you after all.”

He began to cry as soon as his stomach was dry, a pathetic drawn out weeping as he collapsed in the grass.

“Although, maybe I’m not so sure. Maybe I’ll do it anyway. It’s not as if there’s anything you can do to stop me.”

His desperate bawling only increased, his body shaking with the effort of his suffering.

As my butt released another sharp toot, I turned to face him, “I think I might, actually. I mean, I’ve had my fun with you now, so why should I not? It’ll be a fun way for this to end, won’t it?”

“P-Please. Y-You promised”, he croaked, too weak to pull himself to his feet.

Laughing, I turned away from him, giving my ass a final slap, “well, that’s your problem for believing me. Tell you what, I’ll keep my lips sealed for now, but I think I may be paying you a visit in the future. I mean, I know where you live, right?”

He could say nothing as I held my hip, leaning smugly to one side as his utter dread at what could soon be visited upon him stretched across his face with a cold realization.

Just as I was about to walk away, I let out a final tiny fart, a high pitched princess poot which broke up in the soft breeze which drifted in his direction, “well, that was fun, but I have to go. I’d say farewell, but it’s really not, is it? After all, I'm going to see you again very soon.”

His pathetic cries drifted off into silence as I walked away, already looking forward to our next session.