Closet Fetishist's Stories
| Home |
| About |
| Stories |
| Store |
| Search |
| Contact |
Check Out the
Fart Fetish Podcast
Join Our Community
The Failed Rescue
Author: Closet FetishistWritten: May 11, 2025
Jame Orden strides into the dimly lit, cramped cell, her Imperial uniform crisp and intimidating. Prisoner 527893 cowers on the narrow bench bolted to the wall, his dark brown hair disheveled and his eyes wide with fear as she approaches. She allows herself a cruel smirk, relishing the power she hold over this pathetic Rebel.
"You're a hard one to break, aren't you 527893?" She taunts, circling the bench like a predator scrutinizing its prey. "But don't think you can evade my... persuasion techniques indefinitely." She stops in front of him, looming over his seated form.
Jame had been preparing for this interrogation for days, ensuring her body is a weapon, brimming with the relentless stench of overripe food and fermented drinks. The garlic, onions, cabbage, and other foul ingredients have steeped in her gut, ready to unleash an arsenal of noxious gas. She can feel the anticipation building in her core, the gurgling in her stomach a promise of the torment to come.
She leans in close, invading his personal space, and inhales deeply through her nose, relishing the musky scent of his unwashed body. "I want information on the Rebel base on this planet," She growls, her breath hot against his ear. "And I want it now. Resist, and you'll discover the true depths of my... dedication to the Empire."
She punctuates her demand with a belch, a sour, sabotaging expulsion of gas that's laced with the acrid tang of rotted eggs and overripe cheese - a mere appetizer of the hell that awaits him should he prove stubborn. Jame grins wickedly, eager to unravel this prisoner piece by piece until he's begging for the mercy of a swift end. "The Empire always gets what it wants, one way or another." And she intends to enjoy every sordid moment of breaking him.
"Please..." He cringes from her noxious belch odor, "I swear I don't know anything."
Jame's dark eyes narrow as she glares down at the cowering prisoner. She straightens up, towering over him with a sneer of contempt twisting her sensual lips. "Don't play dumb with me, rebel scum, she snarls, her voice dripping with menace. We have evidence linking you to the insurgents. And I will have the truth, one way or another."
She begins to pace the small cell, her heavy boots echoing ominously on the metal floor. With each step, she unleashes a silent but deadly fart, the pungent stench of rotten cabbage and spoiled meat filling the air. She can feel the pressure building in her bowels, a promise of the agonizing torment to come. Jame stops abruptly, whirling to face him with a fierce glare. "You have two choices, 527893," she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. "You can tell me what I want to know willingly, or I can force it out of you. And believe me, my methods are not pleasant."
She steps closer, her curvaceous body now mere inches from his face. With a cruel smirk, she lifts one shapely leg and plants her boot on the bench beside him. The motion causes her to let loose a loud, juicy fart right in 527893's face, the stench so potent it makes his eyes water and his stomach churn. Ppprrrrfffftttttt! The wet, sputtering sound fills the cell as a cloud of noxious gas envelops his head. Jame grins sadistically, enjoying the look of pure disgust and fear on the prisoner's face. "That was just a taste of what's to come if you don't cooperate," she taunts, her voice sickly sweet. "My ass is a weapon, rebel. And I'm not afraid to use it. So start talking, or prepare to experience a hell beyond your wildest nightmares." Bbbrrraaaapppppp! She punctuates her threat with another explosive fart, the rancid stench of rotting fish and spoiled eggs assaulting his nostrils.
"Oh god...no...." 527893 complains, cringes and tries to pull his head away, "I promise, I know nothing!!" he pleads.
Jame's eyes flash with sadistic glee as she watches 527893 squirm and plead, his pathetic attempts at denial only fueling her cruel desires. "Aww, poor little rebel doesn't know anything, huh?" she mocks in a singsong voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Well, let's see if we can jog your memory, shall we?" With a wicked grin, she turns around and bends over, her shapely ass mere inches from 527893's face. The shiny black fabric of her uniform pants stretches taut over her plump cheeks, the cleft of her ass clearly visible. Bbbrrrraaaappppppfffttttt! Pppprrrpppfffttt! A rapid series of wet, sputtering farts erupt from her ass, each one longer and nastier than the last. The pungent stench of rotten eggs, spoiled cabbage, and putrid fish guts fills the cell, so thick and cloying it's like a physical presence.
527893 gags and retches, his eyes watering and his nose burning from the relentless assault on his senses. "Ooh, that one was particularly ripe!" Jame cackles, wiggling her ass tauntingly. "I've been saving up for days, just for you. Aren't you a lucky boy?" She punctuates her mocking words with another loud, juicy fart directly into his face. Bbbbllloooorrrppppffffftttt! Straightening up, Jame turns to face 527893 again, her expression one of cruel amusement. She reaches down and grabs a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back roughly. "Now, let's try this again, shall we?" she hisses, her face inches from his. "Where is the rebel base? And don't even think about lying to me, or I'll make you lick my asshole clean after I'm done with you. And trust me, it won't be pleasant for you." She grins evilly, her dark eyes glinting with sadistic promise. "So, what's it going to be?"
527893's head was spinning, the gas was inhuman and unbearable, he had to do something, even if he had to make up some information. He tells Jame about some random coordinates he could think of quickly.
Jame narrows her eyes suspiciously at 527893, studying his face for any hint of deception. She can see the desperation in his eyes, the way his lips tremble as he spits out the coordinates. A slow, cruel smile spreads across her face as she leans in closer, her nose almost touching his. "Well, well, well," she purrs, her hot breath washing over his face. "Looks like someone's finally starting to see reason. But just to be sure..." She straightens up and turns around, presenting her shapely ass to him once more. Bbbbrrrraaaappppppffftttt! Pppprrrpppfffttt! Bbbbllloooorrrppppffffftttt! A rapid-fire barrage of wet, sputtering farts erupts from her ass, each one more pungent and noxious than the last. The stench of rotten eggs, spoiled cabbage, and putrid fish guts fills the cell, so thick and cloying it's like a physical presence. Jame cackles sadistically, enjoying the way 527893 squirms and writhes in disgust. "That's it, rebel scum," she taunts, wiggling her ass mere inches from his face. "Breathe it in. Let it fill your lungs, seep into your pores. This is the stench of the Empire's power, and you will learn to fear it." She punctuates her words with another loud, juicy fart directly into his face, the sour stench of fermented garlic and rancid cheese making his stomach churn. Turning back around, Jame leans down and grabs 527893's face roughly, her fingers digging into his cheeks. "Now listen carefully, you pathetic worm," she hisses, her dark eyes boring into his. "I'm going to check out these coordinates you gave me. And if they turn out to be a lie..." She grins evilly, her teeth bared in a feral threat.
"No, no I swear they're real!" He pants and heaves.
Jame leans in closer, her nose almost brushing against 527893's as she fixes him with a piercing glare. Her dark eyes bore into his, searching for any hint of deception. She can smell the fear rolling off him in waves, mixed with the pungent stench of her own noxious farts still lingering in the air. A slow, cruel smile spreads across her face as she watches him quiver and squirm under her intense scrutiny.
"You better hope for your sake that you're telling the truth, rebel scum," she hisses, her voice low and menacing. Suddenly, she spins him around and slams him face-first against the cold metal wall of the cell. 527893 lets out a grunt of pain as his cheek presses against the unyielding surface. Jame leans in close behind him, her voluptuous body pressing against his back as she grinds her hips against his face. "I'll make you regret the day you were born," she purrs into his ear, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine. "I'll pump you so full of my putrid gas, you'll be begging for death." Pppprrrrfffftttt! She rips a long, wet fart right against his ass crack, the stench of rotten eggs and spoiled meat seeping through his thin prison jumpsuit.
Jame reaches around and grabs 527893's crotch roughly, squeezing his cock and balls in her iron grip. "I'll torture this pathetic little dick of yours until you're screaming for mercy," she growls, her fingers digging in cruelly. "I'll make you cum in your pants like a fucking teenage boy, and then I'll make you lick it up off the floor." Bbbrrrraaaapppp! Another noxious fart bubbles out of her ass, the sour stench of fermented cabbage and rancid cheese filling 527893's nostrils.
She prepares to leave but she wants to put 527893's head in a small airtight fart box. Jame's cruel laughter echoes through the cell as she watches the guards lower the airtight fart box over 527893's head. The clear glass prison encases his face completely, leaving only a small hole at the top for her to dispense her noxious gas. She saunters over to him, her hips swaying seductively as she relishes the look of pure terror in his eyes. "Aww, don't worry, rebel scum," she coos mockingly, patting the top of the box. "I'm not going to leave you empty-handed. I've got a special parting gift, just for you." She turns around and presses her shapely ass against the hole, the shiny black fabric of her uniform pants stretching taut over her plump cheeks. Bbbbrrrrrrrrpppppppffffffffttttttttttt! An impossibly long, deep fart rips from her asshole, the sound wet and sputtering as it echoes through the fart box. 527893's eyes widen in horror as the putrid stench of rotten eggs, spoiled cabbage, and fermented cheese fills the small space, so thick and cloying he can practically taste it. He gags and retches, his stomach heaving as the noxious gas invades his lungs.
Jame grins sadistically as she feels 527893's desperate breaths against her ass, his pathetic whimpers music to her ears. "That's it, you pathetic worm," she growls, grinding her ass harder against the hole. "Breathe in the essence of the Empire's power. Let it fill you, consume you, until it's all you can think about." She unleashes another massive fart directly into the box, the wet, bubbling sound of her gas drowning out 527893's muffled screams. With a final, triumphant laugh, Jame seals the hole at the top of the box, trapping her putrid farts inside with 527893's head. She gives the box a mocking pat, enjoying the way he thrashes and struggles against his glass prison. "Enjoy your new home, rebel," she taunts.
Later, 527893 is asleep with his head still in the airtight fart box. Suddenly, the door opens and at first he awakes in fright, worried more torture is eminent but he notices the two people entering his cell are two of his rebel friends from the nearby base. They head over towards me, looking for a way to release the fart box from my head when suddenly the prison door slams shut, locking all three of us in now. As we look at the door, Jame Orden is there with two large BBW Inquisitors known as the Fourteenth and Sixteenth Sisters. Jame Orden is amused, "Well well well, what is this? A rescue attempt, did I capture someone worthy of rescue or are you two just stupid?" The 14th Sister and Jame grab the two Rebel friends and hold them, forcing them to watch as the 16th Sister approaches 527893's fart box.
The 16th Sister grins wickedly as she saunters over to 527893's fart box, her voluptuous hips swaying with each step. She leans down, her massive breasts straining against the tight leather of her Inquisitor uniform as she inspects the airtight seal. "My, my, what have we here?" she purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the clear thick glass. "Looks like someone's been enjoying Jame's special treatment." She straightens up and turns to face the two captured rebels, a cruel smirk playing on her full, sensual lips. "You boys picked the wrong day to play hero," she taunts, her dark eyes glinting with sadistic glee. "Now you get to watch as I give your little friend here a taste of what the Empire's finest has to offer." She punctuates her words with a deep, guttural fart, the stench of partially digested rations wafting through the cell.
The 14th Sister chuckles darkly as she tightens her grip on one of the rebels, her meaty fingers digging into his arms hard enough to bruise. "Ooh, I love a good show," she coos, her hot breath washing over his ear. "Especially when it involves breaking pathetic scum like you." Ppprrrrfffftttt! She pulls the rebel in her grasp down to the ground and rubs her smelly butt against his face, the pungent odor of rotten cabbage and spoiled meat filling the air.
Jame Orden leans against the cell door, her arms crossed over her ample chest as she watches the scene unfold with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. "You rebels never learn," she sighs, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "The Empire always wins in the end. And now, you get to witness firsthand what happens to those who defy us." She nods to the 16th Sister, her eyes glinting with cruel anticipation. "Show them what you've got, Sister. Make them regret the day they dared to cross the Empire."
The 16th Sister presses her plump ass firmly against the hole in 527893's fart box, her black leather uniform creaking as she flexes her glutes. With a sadistic grin, she lets loose a massive, sputtering fart directly into the airtight chamber. Bbbrrrraaaappppppffftttt! Pppprrrpppfffttt! The noxious gas fills the small space, the stench of rotten eggs and fermented cabbage so thick and putrid that 527893 can practically taste it on his tongue. He thrashes and screams, his desperate cries muffled by the glass prison as the foul odor invades his lungs, burning his throat and making his eyes water. "That's it, you pathetic worm!" the 16th Sister cackles, grinding her ass harder against the hole. "Choke on my putrid gas! Let it fill your every orifice until it's all you can think about!" Bbbbllloooorrrppppffffftttt! She unleashes another long, wet fart, the sound echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. 527893's body convulses, his stomach heaving as he fights the urge to vomit inside the fart box.
Meanwhile, the 14th Sister has forced the young rebel's face between her massive, sweaty ass cheeks, smothering him with her rank flesh. She grinds her hips, rubbing her anus against his nose and mouth as she lets loose a series of short, sharp farts. Brrraaappp! Ppppfffttt! Bbbrrrttt! The rebel tries desperately to turn his head, gagging on the pungent stench of her unwashed asshole. But the 14th Sister just laughs and shoves his face in deeper, her meaty thighs clenching around his ears. "Breathe it in, you worthless maggot!" she snarls, punctuating each word with another noxious blast. "This is the stench of the Empire's might!" Pppprrraaaappppffttttt!
In the fart box quickly filled with noxious flatulence, 527893 screams and begs for mercy, "PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!" all of which fall on deaf ears as the 16th Sister continues to unleash from deep within her bowels the very worst of her gas. 527893's friend, held by Jame tries to turn his face away but she forces him to watch his friends be tormented and killed right before his eyes.
The 16th Sister cackles with sadistic glee as she presses her voluptuous ass harder against the airtight fart box, the black leather of her uniform creaking under the strain. She flexes her glutes, putting all her strength into unleashing a massive, guttural fart directly into 527893's glass prison. BBBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT! The noxious gas explodes into the confined space like a putrid shockwave, so thick and dense it's almost solid. 527893's screams reach a fever pitch as the stench of rotten meat, fermented cheese, and raw sewage assaults his senses, burning his eyes and searing his lungs. "Scream all you want, rebel filth!" the 16th Sister snarls, grinding her ass against the hole in the box. "No one's coming to save you now!" Ppppprrrrrrffffffttttttt! Blllooorrrrpppp! She grunts and strains, her face contorted in a mix of effort and twisted pleasure as she forces out another long, sputtering fart. The sound is wet and sloppy, like someone pouring a bucket of slime, and the fetid odor that follows is enough to make even the hardened Inquisitor wrinkle her nose.
Jame Orden tightens her grip on 527893's rebel friend, her fingers digging into his flesh like iron vices as she forces him to witness every excruciating detail of his comrade's torment. Her dark eyes glitter with cruel amusement, drinking in the despair and horror etched across his face. "Take a good look, scum," she purrs, her hot breath washing over his ear. "This is the fate that awaits all who dare to defy the Empire. Your friend's suffering is just the beginning. By the time we're done with him, he'll be begging for the sweet release of death." She chuckles darkly, the sound sending icy shivers down the rebel's spine.
The 14th Sister grins sadistically as she sits her massive bulk down on the rebel's upturned face, her voluminous ass cheeks engulfing him completely. She wiggles her wide hips, grinding her sweaty, filthy anus directly against his nose and mouth as she pins him beneath her. "That's right, you pathetic worm!" she snarls, reaching back to grip his hair and force his head even deeper into her rank crevice. "Worship my imperial ass! Press your tongue against my shitter and lap up the sweat and grime!" Bbbbrrrraaaappppfftt! She grunts and strains, unleashing a long, wet fart that ripples through her flabby cheeks and splatters against the rebel's face. The putrid stench of rotten cabbage and fermented shit fills his nostrils, making him gag and retch. "Struggle all you want, you fucking maggot!" the 14th Sister cackles, bouncing on his face and smothering him with her gelatinous flesh. "I've got you right where I want you now!" Pppppffffffrrrrtttttt! Bbbblllooorrrrppp! She lets loose another series of noxious farts, each one longer and wetter than the last. The rebel's muffled screams are lost between her quivering ass cheeks, drowned out by the echoing flatulence.
Jame Orden watches with a cruel smirk, her dark eyes flicking between the two tortured rebels. She can see 527893 convulsing inside the fart box, his face contorted in agony as the 16th Sister fills his lungs with her putrid gas. The other rebel is barely visible beneath the 14th Sister's bulk, just a tuft of hair poking out from between her massive cheeks. "Look at them squirm," Jame purrs to the remaining rebel in her grasp. "So weak, so pathetic. This is what happens to those who defy the Empire's might." She chuckles darkly, her gaze boring into his with sadistic intensity.
In the fart box, 527893 pukes as the gas overtakes his nostrils and he seizes before falling completely still with a pained expression plastered on his face. The 16th Sister grins triumphantly as she feels 527893's body go limp inside the fart box, his final, agonized scream fading into silence. She gives her ass a final, emphatic grind against the hole, as if to make sure he's well and truly dead. "Another rebel scum crushed beneath the might of the Empire," she sneers, her voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction.
Meanwhile, the 14th Sister's eyes widen in surprise as the rebel beneath her suddenly collapses into a lifeless heap on the hard floor of the prison. His strength had completely given out under the crushing weight of her massive bulk and a particularly toxic fart up his nostrils. She feels his bones crunch and his flesh flatten as she drops onto him like a ton of bricks, smothering him completely. A final, wet fart sputters from her anus as she grinds down on his lifeless face, a mocking eulogy to his pathetic existence. "Oops!" she giggles, her flabby cheeks jiggling obscenely. "Looks like this one was too weak to handle a real woman's ass!"
Jame Orden watches the carnage unfold with cool, calculating eyes. As the last rebel falls limp and silent, she turns to the sole survivor, her lips curling into a false smile of sympathy. She reaches out and cups his tear-stained cheek, her thumb brushing away a stray droplet with mocking tenderness. "Aww, poor baby," she coos, her voice dripping with insincere pity. "It must be so hard, watching your friends die like that. Such a shame they were too weak to withstand the Empire's might." Her grip on his face tightens, her nails digging into his flesh as her eyes bore into his with predatory intensity. She leans in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. Tell me, rebel... what's your name?"
Weakly, simmering with a sense of righteous anger, "Tamont Kale." he replies. Jame smiles at his embrace of his anger in this circumstance. "Tamont Kale," she repeats back to him. Jame Orden studies his face, her dark eyes glittering with cruel amusement at his defiant anger. She tightens her grip on his shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh through the rough fabric of his prison uniform. "Well, well, well," she purrs, her full lips twisting into a predatory smirk. "It seems we have a brave one here, Sisters. Tamont Kale, the rebel with a death wish." She leans in closer, her ample breasts brushing against his chest as she brings her face mere inches from his. "But are you truly prepared to die for your pathetic cause, Tamont? To join your friends in a slow, agonizing death, choking on the putrid farts of the Empire's finest?"
The 14th and 16th Sisters chuckle darkly, their meaty fists clenching in anticipation of more torture. They loom behind Jame, their massive frames casting sinister shadows across the cell. The stench of their recent kills still lingers in the air, a pungent mix of shit, sweat, and despair.
Jame reaches up with her free hand, tracing a perfectly manicured nail along Tamont's jawline. Her touch is deceptively gentle, almost sensual, but there's no mistaking the underlying threat. "Or perhaps you're smarter than that, Tamont," she whispers, her hot breath washing over his face. "Perhaps you realize that the Empire always wins in the end, and that joining us is the only way to survive." Her nail digs into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood; her cut on his skin stung like poision. "Imagine the power, the prestige, the fucking pleasure of being on the winning side for once. Of having rebels like your former friends groveling at your feet, begging for mercy." She grins, her eyes flashing with sadistic glee. "So what's it going to be, Tamont Kale? Death...or glory?"
Tamont stares at the ground in defeat, he shakes his head in disbelief. His eyes gaze back up to her, his jaw clenched with fury and his eyes blazing with a untold rage and pain. But his expression slowly twists into a cruel, sinister smile as Tamont bears his teeth creepily, the red glow of the prison lights illuminating his face into something grotesquely evil.