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Worth It

(Thank you @majorbombsinyourface for helping me with my comeback story. You’re a nasty mfker, but I guess I am too. Also I’m back, and this story isn’t very fart related. It’s just raunchy. I hope you guys still enjoy it though.)

You finally made it to college, and following in your brothers footsteps you decided to go to the same college and join the same fraternity. The guys always seemed so cool when you’d visit your brother, and you wanted to be a part of that. Being only two years apart meant that you got to be his brother not only biologically, but in the fraternity house. There were some familiar faces. Like Max, he was one of your brothers best friends, and you always got along especially well with him.

Day 1:

On the first day of pledging each pledge was paired with a big brother. You were lucky enough to get paired with Max. Getting paired meant you had to share a room. This seemed awkward at first, but you figured that as you bonded with Max it would be fun. After the house meeting was dismissed Max showed you around, and helped you to get settled down.

Day 2:

The second day was rather uneventful. You went to your classes all the same. After you were done attending classes. You went back to the frat house and studied. Max was out, so you had the bedroom to yourself. It was nice. It smelt a little off, but there were two college boys sleeping there, one of them being a jock, so it was well expected. After a couple hours of silence you heard the door creack open, and listened as Max approached you. His footsteps heavy on the floorboards. You didn’t turn around, which only aided in scaring you as Max roughly planted his hands on your shoulders.

“Whatchu doin man,” he asked loudly. “Studying,” you replied slightly startled, “What have you been up to?”

“I was getting something to eat with my bro’s,” Max replied smugly.

“Hey go sit on my bed,” he demanded.

You slid out of your chair and sat on Max’s bed, which was in the corner of the room and watched as he paced. Clearly he was thinking. An evil smirk crept onto his face, and then all of a sudden you got the feeling that maybe being Max’s pledge wasn’t a lucky turn of events. After a few more long seconds of awkwardly watching him plot to destroy you, Max walked towards you, holding eye contact with you the entire time. He mounted his bed on his knees. Sitting only a few inches from you.

“You know. Just cause I’m friends with your brother. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you,” he stated coldly, you nervously chuckled. Knowing that something sick and twisted was a brew. He placed his left hand on your fore head, and with his right, he blew his nose. Effectively emptying his nose of all its mucus. You wanted to move, but some part of you told you to stay, and let it happen. Maybe it was because you wanted in to the fraternity, maybe it was the twitch in your cock, but whatever it was, it couldn’t shake you from the feeling of disgust.

Before you could fully comprehend what was going to happen next Max slapped you hard in the face. Spraying the boogers onto your cheek. The force causing it to splash over your lips and eyes. Without giving you a second to recuperate Max told you to open your mouth. You shook your head no, you were completely stunned. Max’s sick smile showed on his face again, and he forcefully shoved your head into the wall behind you and repeated,

“Open your mouth.” You gave in. Your cheek stung, and your brain was completely rattled from the past events.

“Wider, aaagghhhhh,” Max teased. You opened your mouth as wide as you could, and Max rubbed his slimy fingers across your tongue and teeth. Leaving a salty residue of mucus to coat the insides of your mouth. You cringed at the taste and the situation. Part of you wanted to throw up, but for some reason. You found it extremely easy to surpress your disgust, as Max had his way with you. You heard him snicker as he brushed your teeth with the remaining boogers on his hand. Your eyes had lost focus. Like they were frosted over. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Then before you knew it. Max planted his hand under your chin, and helped you to shut your jaw.

“Rest up. It’s only going to get worse tomorrow. And get the fuck out of my bed.” You hurried away from him, and walked into the hallway. You took a few deep breaths. Afraid of the monster your rooming with, and the fact that his wrath will only get worse. After a few moments of catching your breath. You rushed in to the communal bathroom and brushed your teeth. Scrubbing vigorously until you could taste blood. You gagged as you the you roughly scrubbed your tongue. He was evil, so why was the thought of it getting worse starting to make your dick harder.

Day 3:

You woke up day three of being a pledge to the sight of a pale ass, and a slightly hairy pink hole hovering over your face. You exclaimed your surprise by a small gasp, which forced you to inhale the musk that was over you.

“Rise and shine,” Max laughed before,

PPpFffRRRrTrTt

You watched as his dewy ass sprayed a fart into your face. His hole pushing out and open to unleash a 4 second fart on your face. The smell was rancid. You choked on the warm air, not wanting to breathe in the taste.

“Do you have morning classes today?” Max asked.

“No.”

“Good, cause your face looks really comfy.”

You began to panic, but before you could even try to throw him off. He fell backwards and planted his ass over your face.

“How’s the post-workout funk man?”

It was awful. You felt his hole swell over your nose. Ready to release. You wanted to do something, but you laid completely still, and let him,

bbBbBlLaarraARrpPtT

You heard Max laugh violently.

“How are the post workout farts pledge.” He said. It burned. You felt your face warm up, and get soggy from his swamp ass.

After what felt like an eternity, which was really just three minutes. Max raised his ass off of your face, and pulled his underwear up. You gasped, and you could feel your body shake, as oxygen was reintroduced to your blood flow. Max laughed as he watched you struggle to get out of bed and catch your breath. You glared at him, and he just laughed even harder.

“Gotta love the booger and fart combo meal,” Max joked as you walked past him.

“Well I wouldn’t know.” You said jokingly.

“What?” Max asked with an slightly annoyed tone. You turned to see him genuinely upset. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, and pulled you into the bathroom.

“Did you brush your teeth last night?”

“Y-yes,” you replied hesitantly. He let go of your shirt, and started looking through the toothbrushes.

“Which one is yours,” he asked intensely. Nervous, you responded with,

“The blue one in the middle.”

“You know. I’m pissed you made me have to do this, because this shit hurts,” Max replied. You watched as Max locked the door, and then grabbed your toothbrush, shoving the bristled side awkwardly up his asshole. You watched as it went deep. He was rubbing it up and down, collecting every nasty thing he could. He pulled it out, and now the once white bristles were slightly brown. You gagged at the sight, which prompted a laugh from Max.

“Go on, brush your teeth now.”

“Max... don’t you th-“

“I said brush your fucking teeth.”

Scared of what else he’d do. You grabbed your toothbrush back, and applied a fat glob of toothpaste onto the now browned bristles. You hesitantly brought the brush into your mouth and starting ‘cleaning’.

“No matter how much toothpaste you use. You’re still brushing your teeth with my shit,” Max stated, before stomping out of the bathroom. You immediately stopped brushing your teeth, as soon as the door closed, and spit out any remainder of the experience down the drain. You desperately cleaned your toothbrush, but you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to use it again.

When you walked back into your room Max was no where in sight. The only mark to show he came back, was the dirty pair of underwear he’d been wearing for the last couple of days sitting on your pillow. You scoffed as you threw them on the floor, and then got dressed for your day. As you were about to leave your room. The door busted open, and Max came in holding three hampers filled to the brim with dirty laundry. You gave him a funny look, and he flashed his dangerous devilish smile. You stood still in fear, and curiousity. He walked past you and placed the hampers next to his bed. He turned around to look at you and chuckled as he saw your face which was contorted in a disgusted manner.

“Listen I don’t know what you think I’m going to do to you, but I can promise you it’s worse than you imagined,” he said walking up to you, and cupping his hands around your face. You could feel your dick start to strain against your pants, and you got embarrassed at the thought of him seeing it.

“Can we just get this over with?” You asked complyingly. You were so terrified of what would happen if you didn’t listen.

“Hmm. Somebody’s eager,” Max joked not knowing that some part of you did want to drown in weeks old, dirty, jock clothes.

“You felt yourself blush as you followed behind him. He crouched on the floor and grabbed a box from under his bed. Containing a ball gag and rope. You watched nervously as he pulled out the rope, and told you to take off your shirt, and then place your hands together. Although you knew he was getting ready to torture you. You couldn’t help but stop to admire how intimate it felt. The way his eyes squinted as he intently tied the rope around your hands.

“Lay down,” Max stated demandingly. You awkwardly complied. As you got down on the floor Max started to unbutton your pants. Your whole body tensed, and you covered your dick afraid he would see the erection that was slowly getting larger.

“Calm down man. I’m not gonna touch your dick. This is platonic,” he winked. Some part of you trusted him. Even though you were so terrified. You lifted your hands a little. Just enough for him to shimmy your pants down, but you kept them covering your member the entire time. Max just laughed. Once your pants were off he started to bind your feet. He did so with the same level of care as he had on your hands. Next he grabbed the ball gag. You looked at it with fear.

“Are you sure that’s necessary?” You asked nervously. Max snickered and replied, “If you’d like I can use Liams jock.”

“Never mind. Do what you think is best.” Your heartbeat quickened as the gag got closer to your face. Max motioned for you to open your mouth and placed the ball inside, he then gently lifted your head to fasten it tightly. Trapping you in a completely compromised state. After he finished binding your body. He gently scooped his arms under you, and lifted you softly. His arms were warm and embracing, but the second you started to feel comfort in them, your body was thrown like a rag doll onto his bed.

“Listen my bedsheets need to be cleaned, and you’re gonna clean them, but I thought we’d make this fun.”

Max watched you struggle on your back, as you tried to get into a comfortable position.

“Ready?” You just groaned into the gag. He smiled before lifting the briefs you threw on the floor.

“I see you didn’t appreciate my parting gift earlier. Before I drop all the toxic waste that is your fellow frat bros laundry on you. I’m going to make you regret disrespecting me.” You tried to say something, but you couldn’t. All you could do, was watch as he placed the pouch of his briefs over your face. Then he stretched as tight as he could. Stretching the stench of his 3 day old ball sweat on your face. Forcing you to inhale all of the musk that radiated off of his balls. You felt him lift your head, and you thought he was going to release you, but instead he pulled his briefs even tighter around your head, and tucked them into the strap of the ball gag on the back of your head. Your dick was fully erect now. All you wanted was for this to be over, so you could go shoot the steamiest load ever.

“Now that justice is served. I say it’s time we carry out the punishment.” You felt chills run down your body causing you to spazz.

“Oh no, no escape for you.” Little did he know you spazzed, because the sensation your dick was enduring, was euphoric. You couldn’t see anymore, but you heard Max lift one of the hampers. With no warning. Max unceremoniously dumped one of the hampers onto your legs. You could feel moisture surround the lower half of your body. 

“Nice and warm huh?” Before you knew it he dumped the second hamper on your crotch. Finally you didn’t have to cover your huge boner. As you felt relief from freeing your dick. The third hamper was emptied onto your chest.

“Don’t worry. I saved the best for last.” Having no clue what he was talking about you listened closely. There was a ruckus and then the sound of zippers being unzipped. You heard Max sniff hard, and then mutter,

“Oh yeah, that’s the good shit.” Moments after the light that shone through his briefs, turned to complete darkness. Then the most potent scent of musk filled your nostrils. Your face felt warm and damp. It was almost noxious, but you kept sniffing it. You couldn’t get enough.

“I know, it’s hard to breathe down there I bet. That’s the contents of my year old gym bag being spread on your face bro. Always moist, always musty.” You heard Max walk away and open a door. Then, you felt even more clothes being thrown in you.

“And that’s my hamper for good measure too.”

The smell was so intoxicating. Almost as if it was getting you high. You were only trapped under his gym clothes for a couple minutes, but it felt like it had been hours. As you were getting lost in the scent. Max moved all the clothes from off of your face and took off the briefs that was tightly wound over your nose.

“Hey bud.” The light hurt your eyes, as your face became exposed to the world outside of his filthy briefs. You tried to speak back, but the ball gag was still in your mouth.

“It was getting pretty boring watching you lay still under my clothes. So I figured you might as well get it from the source.” You felt your eyes go wide. Max took off his shorts and he was free balling. You watched as his dick bounced between his legs.

“You know. Last year, your brother told me I have perfect t-bagging balls.” A cruel smile crept on his face as he laughed maniacally.

“Little did he know. These t-bagging balls, would be all over his little bros face.” As he spoke, he played with his balls fondling them. You saw his dick twitch, but he seemed unbothered. Meanwhile you had to stifle a moan, as your dick rubbed against some stale socks.

Max walked towards you with a wide, slow gait and a menacing look in his eyes. He slowly neared the bed, and stood over you. His hand lightly slapped your face, and then he kicked his leg over you, straddling your face with his crotch. He was right he did have the perfect t-bagging balls. The nearly covered half of your face, as he rested there, with his taint on your chin. Then he extended his knees, and sat up. Dangling his balls over your face. The angle at which you were witnessing this was immaculate. He looked so godly as he lowered his balls to your nose. Placing his hand on top of them and shoving them in your nostrils. Forcing you to directly breathe in his pheromones.

“Ahh take it in. The scent of your future big bro.” He moaned on top of you. Meanwhile you were struggling to breathe, because the skin of his balls was clogging your nostrils, and the ball gag didn’t help.

“Fuckk.” He started massaging his balls into your face. Kneading them over the bridge of your nose. Then as if his torture couldn’t get anymore raunchy he placed his asshole over your mouth, and dropped his dick over your eyes. You felt his hole against your top lip. His taint sat over your nose, and all you could smell was his tangy aroma. It was magical. You did your best to stifle large inhales, but it was so hard, because his scent just got more addictive the longer he tortured you. While busy trying not to let him know you were enjoying this, he,

BBrRraaAFfTt

Let out a spicy fart.

“Damn. That one kinda hurt coming out.” It slid into your mouth. It left a burnt taste in your mouth, and gave you goosebumps. It lasted 3 seconds, but it packed a major punch. The smell wafted into your nostrils and it was awful. It was cheesy and skunky.

BbBrRaAaaPPtT

“Aww fuck. You’re in for it man.”

PPPrRUUmMMpPTt

“Jesus.” Max said as he comically waved his hand in front of his face. You couldn’t blame him. You were weakly coughing under his ass. The smell was so intense. He must’ve eaten something rancid while you were in the shower.

PpPpPAAAAaRrRpPTt

“I kinda feel bad for you down there.”

PPpffRrrTT

“Ok I’m done. I don’t want to kill you.”

He slowly unmounted your face. Leaving you to bask in his gas, while he stepped away. You watched as he gathered the clothes that he had taken off of your face.

“I’ll let you cool down for a bit,” he said as he threw his old gym clothes back on you. This time a jock falling over your face. The smell was intense, and the smell of his farts that lingered over your face only aided in making his clothes smell atrocious. You were loving it. You laid still smelling the clothes for a while. Clearly Max was up to something. You finally heard the door creak, and then Max,

“Hey man. Sorry I took so long. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” He chuckled as he walked over to you. You were expecting him to release you, but instead you felt and indent on the edge of his bed, and then a heavy weight on top of your body. This weight effectively pressing your sore and hard penis into the pile you of crusty jockstraps and damp T-shirts’ you were under. Since you weren’t expecting the sweet sensation this caused you let out a loud moan.

“Bro, what the fuck, are you good?” You heard Max ask above you. You felt a shuffle on top of you as clothes were thrown on the floor, and then a hand caress your bulge.

“Are you turned on by this?” You were terrified. What was he going to do. What was he going to say?

“I didn’t know you were such a freak,” he stated with a tone that almost sounded pleased.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one in the room right now that’s horny as fuck.”

You gurgled into your gag in shock. Was he for real? A sick sense of joy arose in you. You heard him inhale deeply into the still, rather impressive pile of vile clothes on top of you.

“Fuckkk.” He ruffled some of the clothes on top of your face, and grabbed your jaw. Forcing you to look at him.

“Do you wanna fuck?” He asked bluntly. Surprised, you just moaned into the gag. You were confused, but his face made you want to submit further than you already had.

After a brief contemplation. You nodded your head up and down. Max’s whole face lit up in a sick grin, and he started to stand on the bed . He quickly took off the briefs he was currently wearing, and slammed his body back down on top of you, before sliding off of the bed. He then placed his hands under you, and flipped you over. Your body tensed in shock. You now laid on top of the pile, and your face was pressed into a sweaty sock. You felt him climb back onto your bed, and then grab your butt cheeks. You felt his face against your ass as he inhaled deeply, which caused you to get chills all over your body. He moaned and then placed his tongue just below your hole, flicking it up until it slid around the ring of your anus. You moaned in ecstasy as his tongue seemed to expertly navigate your ass. Once finished licking the outside of your hole, he penetrated your asshole with his tongue, slowly pushing in deeper. He used his tongue like the bow on a violin, going back and forth, in and out. His hands tightly squeezed your cheeks, and massaged your thighs. After a couple of minutes you felt his dick slide against your taint, and in between your cheeks. You moaned in anticipation, as his dick stroked against your ass. You heard him spit, it splashed on his dick, and rained down on your ass. Unlike everything he had done before, he sloppily rubbed his saliva into his dick, moaning as he played with the head of his cock in his hands. Before continuing, he grabbed a sweaty t-shirt, and inhaled deeply into the armpit. Gasping in ecstasy, and then plunging his dick in ecstasy. You nearly screamed as you felt your hole stretch around his cock, which was larger than you anticipated. He initially moved slow and carefully, like he had before, but after a few strokes he started pounding into you roughly. You felt his hands slam down against your back, leaving a sting red pain to heat up your mid back, before scratching his nails back down to your ass, which he pinched between his fingers. Jiggling your mounds like jello, as he thrust into them harshly, causing them to ripple even more. You groaned in pleasureful pain, as your body was being used by Max, who fucked you hard. The intense stench that filled the room mixed with the beating your ass was getting, caused you to shoot your load all over the pile of clothes you laid on, spraying your cum onto your various frat brothers clothes. The vulgarity of it just aroused you more. Not too long after you felt Max strain as he began to shoot ropes of cum deep into your insides. As he slowly slid his dick out of your hole, you felt his cum ooze out of your hole, and trickle down to your balls.

“Fuck you better be ready for round two bitch,” Max said trying to catch his breath. You simply moaned at the thought of going again.

FOOTBALL TEAM’S BITCH

It had been a filthy, bone-breaking practice, and our white practice pants were caked with mud, our jerseys soaked through by the cold, spitting rain. But I didn’t complain. Junior varsity freshmen don’t complain, not if they want a chance to ever play in a real game. I wasn’t a big guy, not by a long shot. I still looked like a teenager - but then again, I was. I was slight and had to look up to most of the other guys on the team, but I was fast and wiry and surprisingly hard to plant in the turf once I got my feet under me, so I had a thought that I might be a pretty good running back. I had been, back in high school, but I was quickly learning that college is a whole other story. As the smallest guy on the junior varsity team, I was just about invisible to the larger, first-string players. I kept it that way, figuring the best way to show myself was on the field, by taking the pain of practice and never complaining, and the coaches at least had started, I hoped, to see something in me. It was early in the year, the other students hadn’t even arrived on campus, and classes hadn’t started. That’s how early we began football practice.

I had just begun to lift the pads from my shoulders, trailing wet nylon over my face, when a loud hoot echoed off the locker-room walls. I didn’t think much of it. There was always a lot of noise in the lockers, howling and bragging and yelling. But this shout was a signal. I’m hard to plant, but only on the field and only if I know what’s coming. Plus, they didn’t even try to plant me. Hands - one pair still wearing a pair of sticky wide receiver gloves - grabbed at me, two pair on my arms, two on my legs, and they lifted me from the ground as easily as pulling a weed. I flailed, but I still had my pads half-off, half-on, and the clammy nylon practice jersey clung to my face. A storm of laughing voices drowned out my own cries. The quality of the sound changed, and they yanked my pads off, baring my chest with its wet, clinging under layer of tight Lycra.

They’d carried me into the storage closet, a room filled with various bits of gear, uniforms, pads, elastic bands and other workout gear. It was a room we mostly stayed out of, on coach’s orders. Jeering faces looked down at me, smeared with mud, a couple with helmets still on. Jarrett was a wide-bodied fullback who probably had a good eighty pounds on me. He had my legs, both of them, and while I tried to twist and kick at him with my muddy cleats, I got nowhere. He just grinned up at me, a shaved-headed ape with a vicious glint in his eye. Nate had one of my arms, the first-string quarterback, a blond stud who never had trouble getting his dick wet on the weekends - at least, judging from his locker room talk. And the Chad pinned my other arm, a tight end that could bench-press me. A grinning second-string running back, Keith, was digging at the laces of my pants. I gulped air, considered screaming. But Nate must have seen it in my eyes. He pinned my arm between his thighs and clamped a hand over my mouth. I tasted mud and rain and sweat on his skin. I tried to pull my hand free, pressed between the smooth, wet fabric of his practice pants, but I couldn’t get it out. His legs were too strong. They were all too strong. And I didn’t want them to get my pants off, because once they did, they'd see my dirty little secret. I flailed and blushed and twisted and got nowhere, and the running back yanked down my practice pants. Jarrett got my cleats off, one at a time, holding both ankles tight in one massive, meaty hand while he worked the laces with the other. Then they raked my pants off, and with them my wet football girdle, the lycra sliding smoothly down my hairless thighs and that was it… my little caged cock was now exposed to all of the football team. “wooow look, what the fuck is that!” said Jarrett, and the others mainly laughed and repeated the same sentence even louder. “I was sure he was a fag, look at his tiny little locked numb, how pathetic!”. They continued laughing for quite some time and I was completely red of shame. Keith flicked my locked cock. It was bobbing in the cool air. I flinched from his touch, but my cock didn’t shrivel. Their laughter was almost a solid thing, holding me down as firmly as the hands.

Duct tape ripped behind me, and they looped it around my wrists, then around my ankles, all the way up to my knees. I did have some hair on my calves, but I figured I wouldn’t once I got out of this tape. Nate leaned down, neatly sculpted blond eyebrows drawn together. “You a faggot?” he asked. I grunted negation into his palm. But he didn’t look convinced. “I think it’s pretty obvious now that you’re a faggot” he said. “Don’t know if we have any use for a faggot on the team. Huh, what do you think, guys?” They howled and barked, more animal than human. Someone looped more duct tape around me, binding my upper arms to my chest, my lower arms to my abs - I was helpless, completely mummified in it. I even felt more layer being added to my already mummified body. Soon all of my skin disappeared under layers and layers of thick duct tape, making me completely powerless and at the mercy of my team; there was absolutely nothing I could do except breathing.

I tried to struggle, but that just made my cock harder in my cage. Keith kept flicking my dick and balls. He was a sneering little punk with knuckle tattoos that said LOVE and HATE and a slicked-back high and tight that was almost a mohawk. No one really liked him; even the coaches didn’t care much for him. But he was a hell of a running back and one of the hottest guy on the team. They laid me down on a lifting bench, then flipped me. My drooling cock rubbed the torn plastic surface of the bench, and fingers rubbed and probed at my ass. “You can always tell if they’re fags” Keith said, “’Cause they’ll have loose, soggy assholes like a girl’s pussy.” “Don’t know what girls’ pussies you been playing with” Jarrett grumbled. “Just your mom’s” he said. A finger - I have no idea whose - brushed my hole, and a warm spasm flickered over me, uncomfortably close to orgasm. I didn’t know why this was turning me on, if that’s what was happening, or if this was just a reaction to fear. I struggled, but could barely move, and each wiggle or twist just rubbed my cock against the bench, bringing me closer to a humiliating caged orgasm. “Seems pretty tight to me” was the verdict, and the finger withdrew. They flipped me back over.

Someone had taken off their sweaty, very smelly, and dirty football sock, wadded it into a thick ball, and they shoved that into my mouth, well Keith violently shoved it into my mouth looking at me with the same little smirk “can’t have you making too much noise right faggot”. A thick strip of duct-tape went over that, and nearly five times around my head. “enjoy your little faggot meal” said Keith. Then the team decided to tape me to the bench to make me even more immobile and powerless. They started to put layers and layers of duct tape efficiently taping me to the bench and making me even more immobile than before. Even my taped mouth and head was strapped to the bench with more tape, then I saw Nate’s beautiful face again “that should keep you in place haha, in your faggot bitch place!”.

About half the team was either in the room or watching from the locker room, and almost all of them had their phones in hand, recording this, maybe putting it on the internet. But then Nate leaned over my face. “You got a little dirty during practice huh bitch” he said. “Time for your shower” He gathered a big wad of spit in his mouth, rumbled in his throat to augment it with snot, and launched it to splat right against the side of my nose. It trickled down my face slowly, tickling, but I couldn’t wipe it away. They followed the leader, then, each of them adding a gob of slimy spit to my face, until I had to hold my breath to keep from inhaling it up my nose and drowning in the team’s saliva. It seemed everyone on the team contributed a wad of spit to my face. Spattering me, jeering at me, laughing at me. I was no longer invisible to them, that was for sure. I thought it would never end, spit and insults and occasional slaps at my treacherously caged cock and taped face.

But then they left, and on the way out, Nate flicked off the light. “Sleep tight little faggot bitch and enjoy your homemade facemask!” he said. I figured that’d be the end, that it’d be over. I figured they’d leave me there for a while, until either I was rescued by the cleaning people or, more likely, Nate would come back and untape me and let me go and we’d all have a laugh about it. But it was barely the beginning. Because while they still shouted and howled and cranked the music in the locker room, they hadn’t forgotten me.

In fact, a few minutes later, the door opened and the lights came back on. Jarrett stood over me, still caked in mud. Didn’t these fuckers have classes to get to? I had bio of cells in a half an hour, and if I didn’t get out of this duct tape and shit I’d miss it. Jarrett smiled big, broad face and square jaw, like a politician seeking votes. “Hey, little bitch.” He’d taken off all his clothes except his football girdle, tight white fabric stretched over his broad thighs and ass, a substantial bulge in the front. They did nothing to hide the line of his penis against his soft, thick balls. His body was hard with muscle, but a soft layer of fat covered them, smoothed them out “like what you see huh?”. I grunted in the tape. Something like “let me go” but it came out all in vowels. The sock against my tongue and teeth was gritty and salty. Someone’s foot sweat. I didn’t even know whose.

Jarrett stood over me, turned around and started straddling my face “now you’re gonna love this as much as I do fag”. Then he lowered his fat, muscled and magnificent ass. Sweat had soaked through the spandex, making it translucent, and the dark line of his ass crack descended over my face, my nose and covered mouth. I tossed my head, but he rested some of his weight on me, trapping me with my nose in his crack. “Sniff it,” he said. “Come on bitch, do a buddy a favour and sniff my ass.” I couldn’t do anything but obey.

The tape and sock in my mouth prevented me from breathing other than through my nose, and now I smelled the dank, rich stink of his ass after a long and grueling practice. He wiggled, grinding himself against me. Then he put more weight on me. I tried to draw breath, couldn’t - only a thin thread of air slid between his clenching ass and my face. And that air was dank with sweat. I thrashed, helplessly, uselessly. I was going to suffocate here, I thought. He was going to kill me in the storage closet in the back of the football locker room. It’d be in the news. But just as my lungs burned and my breath began to slide into panic, he stood up. “You got spit all over my butt,” he said. Not my own, of course. The team’s. “Nasty.” I sucked sweet air through my nose, refilling my lungs. My heart thudded, but began to calm.

“you’re a pretty good ass sniffer, right little bitch” he said, turning around facing me again a casually slapping my duct taped face, “better ass sniffer than player should I say, glad I found you a way to be useful for us men right” he added before pinching my nose, effectively preventing me from breathing at all. He was still smiling, enjoying having me in this predicament. Then, when I thought I was about to pass out, he released my nostrils, and I was able to draw laborious breathing… but not for long… soon after, he turned around again and positioned his marvellous ass right above my face. “Ready for round two fag?” I tried shouting again, I really wanted out, but it was pointless as the sock was transforming everything into muffled cries. Then it happened again, and Jarrett lowered his big ass right onto my face. His positioned his crack right on my nose and put some weight on it, effectively forcing it closer to his asshole.

This time the smell was even stronger. It nearly made me wanna puke to think that I had my nose buried into Jarrett ass, nearly touching his dirty hole. My beautiful captor on the other hand seemed to enjoy what was going on and moaned. “nice and deep breath right bitch, must make you hard in your little faggot cage, enjoy the funkiness!”.

Imagine I went to do a proper work out and afterwards had a long run. Just jogging about. Burning calories. Getting sweaty. And then got home to you. Do you know what I expect of you? Well, obedience, service and dedication. I want you naked with just your collar on waiting for me in my living-room. On your knees. Knees/legs spread slightly. Both arms resting on your knees, palm of your hands upwards to the sky and your eyes down to the floor. I want you waiting for me. For my instruction. As I walk in you’ll hear me undress and sigh. My work-out tiring. Satisfied but body aching for unwinding. And what do you think I want next?

I’ll walk over to you and will snap my fingers, something we practiced over and over again so you know to start kissing my feet nice and slowly while moving upwards. You use your hands to softly caress my warm and sweaty calfs as you kiss, lick, nuzzle and smell your Masters body. Giving my legs gentle massages, while also kissing, licking, sniffing and smelling my body as part of my routine. I smile. You continue having your eyes to the floor. You reach my crotch. Kiss my heavy musky balls. Swirl your tongue under my sack while massaging my veiny fat cock. Pre-cum dribbling onto your hands in the process.

“Inhale.” I say confidently. As you instantly lean in and start sniffing and kissing my musky cock. Softly whispering “it smells wonderful my lord. Thank you Master.” As you continue your act of service. In the meanwhile I reach out to grab you by the hair and push/pull you to the spots I want you to give attention to. Instructing you to lick my musky and sweaty body clean. Drop by drop. Spot by spot. Until my cock is hard and veiny and throbbing with delight at your gentle touch and sloppy licking.

Then I’ll tap twice on your right cheek. Making you stop in your tracks instantly and return to your original kneeling position. “Well done little toy.” I say calmly while sighing in pleasure. “Under next.” I say before spreading my legs ever so slightly. Within moments you crawl on all fours between my legs. Kissing and sniffing the underside of my ballsack and pressing your nose against my sweaty ass. You woudn’t do this for anyone else, in no world! But for me, for us, it becomes different. An act of service. An act of pleasure. An act of unwinding for me. Being able to fulfill that for me does so much for you to. So here you are. Eyes closed. Kneeling below me. Kissing my taint and my asscheeks, licking away every drop you find, sniffing and inhaling my musk and sweat. Before crawling behind me and spreading my ass yourself.

“Thank you sir for this task.” You say softly before kissing my lower back and asscheeks. I growl, my own hands wrapped around my shaft. Jerking off slightly. “You are very welcome little toy. Now continue” I respond. You nod “yes my lord.” Before pushing your nose/face between my asscheeks and inhaling my sweat and musk. Don’t get me wrong. The act is dirty and was a struggle the first few times you did this, but now it’s part of a routine. Part of an expectation. Now the smells feel safe. They feel like your submission. There is no struggle in your mind, just peace. So you sniff. And inhale. And kiss. And rub your face up and down between my sweaty asscheeks. And swirl your wet tongue around while I growl and sigh ij pleasure. And we continue this for a while. You on your knees. Sniffing and lapping away at my asshole until my sweat and musk has sunk into your skin. Marking you as mine. Servicing me in that moment. Until I growl at you again.

“It’s time.” You know for what. You swiftly move to my front and finally look up again. Looking me in the eyes. Mouth wide open. Tongue out. As you feel the first thick waves of cum shoot into your mouth and onto your face. Covering your tongue in my cum as I jerk off onto your body. Marking you in a cummy fucking sweaty mess.

Post Includes: Facesitting, Face farting, fart sniffing, butt drops, face crushing, slight suffocation, willing sub, different perspectives

You looked all around as the door to Chans dressing room was within reach. Would anyone see you enter? At this point, looking in to see a black leather chair that had two large deep round indents, you didn't care. You close the door behind you and rush over to the chair. Your knees cried out as you dropped with immense speed and hovered your nose just above the indented leather cushion. "Ugh" You moan as the strong scent of Bangchans signature vanilla perfume invaded your nose. The sound of the door opening and then locking breaks you from your trance of analyzing the heat coming from the cushion.

"What have we got here?" Chans Australian accent only further fuels your hard on as he walks slowly over to you. "You like my seat? Maybe...maybe you wanna BE my seat?" He asks with a snicker, looking down at his belt buckle and then back up to make eye contact with you as he took his belt off sexily. He stopped beside you, allowing you to take in how much more muscular he was than you. His glutes protruded out towards your face and you couldn't resist his questions anymore. "Yes please!" You softly respond, unsure if it was the right decision.

“You sure about this man? I know the little shit deserve this and all but if we get caught…”

“What the little shit keeps getting slaps on the wrists and I won’t have this little shit tarnishing our family name anymore!” Your father plopped his plump, sweaty bare ass down right on top of your face and kept on grunting.

You let out a disgusted moan getting an unwanted walk down memory lane of how your family use to force you into handicap wrestling matches which consisted of nothing but then torturing you with stinkface after stinkface and fart after fart whenever they found out about you bullying others with your former gang when you was younger. As they put it something to even the odds with your bullying and always destroyed your credibility until you forced your gang one by one to join you and forget what they had seen or the threat they earned from your family to suffer an even worse fate if they kept following you.

Pppbbbbbbtbtbbtbtb!

That rotten meat filled fart violently shook your body as it shot down your nose and scorched your nasal cavity. You let out a muffled shriek of horror realizing what your new life would be soon. “Ah! Been holding that in all day! You know the boys down at the station says I could use my gas like homemade mace!”

Your father lifted up his ass soon to be replaced by your stoic brother which was still fresh from the gym. When he hears you had returned home expecting for help. He had cancelled all his plans when he learned your dad had captured you. You were twins but the worst kind fraternal. Nothing throughout your life, you kept hearing praises about how much older your brother looked than you, how more handsome, rugged, charming, and smarter he was compared to your meathead self and how he looked nothing like you whatsoever which many counted lucky considering you lacked your family’s famous looks.

Hell the school boys use to run to your brother in hopes of disciplining you whenever you bullied them too hard or went to far. Every time you would be humiliated in front of whoever you bullied and forced to kiss his ass until your victim felt satisfied. Hell Mr.Bigshot Lawyer still kept up this cruel punishment with you now. One time stopping you from mugging some local chump who gotten too drunk one night at the bar you both hung out at or stopping some sap who you had conned into nearly giving away all of their lifesaving to you. The only thing that stopped it from making it to the news paper was your uncle protesting in your favor.

Sssssssssssssssss! The hisser that went up your noise sounded like an air balloon and your eyes instantly started to tear up. It smelt of rotten strawberries and bananas thanks to all those energy drinks and protein shakes the man insisted on enjoying daily.

When you felt the firm grip on the back of your head, your tongue shot out against your own will. You had been trained enough by your superior brother that your body was conditioned to react to the simplest snap of your finger. You slowly slapped away at his bitter, sweaty hole hoping the bitter sticky fluid you licked wasn’t your brother putting you on tp duty like usual as payment for bailing you out of trouble.

“Ah! Thanks baby bro! Uncle Ryan I made every plea deal that I could to help this idiot! Everyone in town knows we all hate him so no one is gonna ask questions. If anything he’s gonna get life if he tries to leave from here and I know you sure as hell ain’t gonna damn pardoned especially during your last term as mayor! Either he accepts being the family bitch or it’s back to jail for him!”

Your brother gave you one last fart and lifted up for his ass to be replaced by the beefiest one of all. Your uncle let out a frustrated growl and slammed his ass down hard enough on your face to leave a bruise for tomorrow. You let out one last groan of disgust snd humiliation as you felt your nose slide right up the man’s pucker. Judging from how your uncle shifted and wiggled on top of you, the mayor was getting more enough pleasure not just from your humiliation.

“Well to be honest I have been missing the runt’s nose. It isn’t fun torturing fart freaks even though most of them beg me to stop eventually!” The mayor let out a sigh then casually lean to the side bitting his lip down as he felt your nose slide out with a light pop. “There is something more fun fucking with someone who absolutely hates it! I guess this fucking disappointment got something right for once in his life!”

You couldn’t believe this was going to be your life now. Prison had given you a harsh reality check of there being tougher and more dominant guys ready to put you in your place just as your family always warned. Hell some of them were smaller and younger than you but did even worse things to you than any cruel idea your family could think. The only thing you could do was silently sobbed into your family’s patriach’s ass before your uncle gave you the worst and most violent fart of all that knocked you out and introduced you to your new life.

Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Forced Face Farting, Face Farting, Fart Torture, Multiple uses of the F slur, Asphyxiation by Farts, Passing out from Farts, Eproctophilia, Face humping, Bully cums, Pisses self

🇺🇸🇬🇧 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇬🇧🇺🇸

PERSONAL FICTIONAL STORY

HUMILIATED BY A CELEBRITY #36 :

NICK OFFERMAN, American actor

Nick Offerman was a very handsome man when he was young. For me he remains attractive even if he is older. His round, hairy belly makes him sexy, but also his charisma makes him a male worth worshipping.

Since he's married to a woman, I imagined him being worshiped by a muscular faggot whose age isn't specified so you can imagine yourself in the place of the slave.

- BEING THE SLAVE OF A DADDY BEAR -

Nick Offerman, 52-year-old American actor, loved his life. Actor and carpenter, he was busy. But he had no children from his actress wife Megan Mullally. He longed to come home and be worshipped. But he loved his wife with too powerful and sincere a love to enslave her.

On the other hand, he would have liked a weak person to submit to him, to treat him as a true King. His mature age and hairy belly made him attractive to young gay men. By registering on a gay dating site, he did not expect to receive so many messages from obedient young boys. When he published a photo of his feet, the messages multiplied by 10! The boys of old taste begged to take them as a lover or as a slave!

Happy to still be so attractive at his age, he decided to choose a young man who was slightly muscular but above all who was ready to leave everything to be a man's slave. Lewis wanted his master to be older than him because he considered old people more attractive and superior to young men. Disappointed with boys his own age, Lewis dreamed of belonging to a daddy-like man. Yet Nick Offerman is a proud heterosexual white male raised to believe in the natural inferiority of gays, or rather faggots.

The slave and the actor met at a bar after Nick Offerman gave a concert. He had taken off his T-shirt, and had thrown it in the crowd, which had caused a general fight because many were the fags who wanted to sniff his stinking sweat! Lewis, who had watched the concert, had been impressed by Nick's hairy bump and had an erection imagining himself licking and sniffing his hairy armpits, or even his sweaty socks.

Nick Offerman ordered several chicken wings from the bar, and Lewis had the audacity to reach for his hands to clean the sauce off his fingers. For that, he sucked the actor's fingers. Nick knew from then on that he was facing a real fag who worships daddy bears.

He took advantage of the noise from the bar to approach his face to his pretending to want to kiss him on the mouth, so Lewis closed his eyes and didn't see that Nick only opened his mouth to burp in his face!!

BRRRRRRRPTTT!!!!!!

Then, in the face of Lewis' surprise, he continued to burp in his face.

BBBRRRRTTTTTT!!!!!

NICK OFFERMAN: "You like it, huh, faggot?!"

LEWIS: "Oh yes Master your burps are divine."

After the two men had a drink, Nick Offerman suggested that Lewis come to his house. Lewis didn't hesitate for a second. They rode for a long time, so much so that Nick ordered Lewis to suck his long daddy's cock. Lewis was honored to do this. When he had to pee, Nick held Lewis's head down on his cock to force him to swallow his piss.

They were in the countryside, and Nick Offerman took advantage of the fact that he was on the ground between his thighs sucking his cock, because he couldn't see the way. It would be impossible for him to find the road, because the house was hidden in a huge forest far from the main roads.

When they arrived, Nick hugged the young man, who, although he was muscular, liked being held by an older man. Arriving in the house, Nick Offerman ripped off his clothes. Now naked, kneeling in front of his master, Nick ordered him to come to him, at his feet.

NICK OFFERMAN: "Lick my boots, faggot."

The young man licked the master's boots, and he appreciated being treated as a King.

Then, Nick Offerman moved in and tied Lewis to a wooden cross. There, he whipped him for a long time, and even if the cries of pain were music to his ears, he ended up removing his socks. He hadn't taken them off since he had made an appointment with Lewis. For a week without washing his feet and changing his socks, he had to endure his wife's remarks, but she loved him too much to resent him for making his own choices. She didn't know the real reason for her husband's stinky socks.

He had kept them on his feet so he could put one in Lewis's mouth and the other strapped to his nose. Thanks to this, he no longer heard Lewis' cries of pain.

NICK OFFERMAN: "Yes, take that you faggot! You fucking disgust me you faggot! Yes you like that straight man's stinky feet!"

Lewis was very excited by the stench of the master's socks, but he was also in pain. Nick Offerman whipped him for a long time before coming back to untie him to cuddle him, pressing his stinking, hairy round body against the young man's muscular body. He enjoyed caressing his pretty muscled ass.

NICK OFFERMAN: "You've earned your reward. You're going to lick my feet, faggot."

Lewis wept with joy at the thought of spending the night licking the stinky feet of a man who hadn't washed his feet for more than a week. With his bathrobe around him, Nick saw the slave approach him like a doggie.

NICK OFFERMAN: "You belong at my feet. I'm happy to have you with me."

He went to sleep in his big comfortable bed in this abandoned house. It was there that he spent the night having his feet licked by Lewis. Big, stinky, masculine feet, covered in grime and accumulated dirt.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Yes, I'm eating in bed while you are sucking my toes, faggot!!! How does my feet smell? Stinky, aren't they!? Yes, but I'm sure you like them like that, fag, it's are real straight white man's feet odor!"

He let his feet stick out of the bed so Lewis could lick and suck on them more easily. His toes were delicious.

The next day, Nick enjoyed being awakened by a licking of his feet. He then untied the leash that dangled from Lewis's slave collar, which he hung on the bed, and took the leash to pull his kneeling slave to him. In the living room, he drank his coffee while having his feet licked. It lasted over an hour.

Lewis pressed his face against his master's large, warm feet and inhaled their warm, masculine scent.

He was not unhappy to have come across a homophobe, because like a good fag submissive to straight men, he worshiped this man who found him inferior.

NICK OFFERMAN: "Come here faggot."

Nick Offerman ordered Lewis over to the couch, where he put his big smelly ass on his face. Although muscular, Lewis was not strong and could not resist the weight of Nick's ass. He started farting on Lewis's head, who was trying to hold his breath.

PPPRRRTTTTT PRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!!

NICK OFFERMAN : "Sniff my farts, faggot !"

Lewis was forced to sniff out the stinking farts, which were growing on him. Nick Offerman addressed Lewis, who was struggling under the ass and his farts's smell.

NICK OFFERMAN: "I will keep you with me, you will be my sex slave, and I will never wash my feet again. I will come as often as possible, but otherwise I will send trusted friends to serve you. They will Train yourself to be a slave. You wanted to lick feet, you'll be served. My friends are all homophobes who don't wash their feet and ass. Welcome to paradise, faggot, my feet and ass are your new home : you will lick them forever now."

Nick Offerman never washed his feet himself again, as Lewis was his foot licker.

Lewis never came home, he kept being whipped by fat, stinky old homophobes who shoved their dirty socks into his mouth and put their dirty underpants in his face. And Lewis had never been happier than when he was caged with stinky socks in his mouth or licking Nick Offerman's long feet.

And he had finally found his outlet. Nothing relaxed him more than banging a fag.

END OF THE STORY

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🇫🇷 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇫🇷

HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE

HUMILIÉ PAR UNE CÉLÉBRITÉ #36 :

NICK OFFERMAN, acteur américain

Nick Offerman était un très bel homme quand il était jeune. Pour moi il reste attirant même s'il est plus vieux. Son ventre rond et poilu font qu'il est sexy, mais aussi son charisme font de lui un mâle qui mérite d'être vénéré. Comme il est marié à une femme, je l'ai imaginé être vénéré par un pédé musclé dont l'âge n'est pas précisé afin que vous puissiez vous imaginer à la place de l'esclave.

- L'ESCLAVE D'UN VRAI MÂLE POILU -

Nick Offerman, acteur américain de 52 ans, aimait sa vie. Acteur et menuisier, il était occupé. Mais il n'avait pas eu d'enfants de son épouse l'actrice Megan Mullally. Il avait envie de rentrer à la maison et d'être vénéré. Mais il aimait son épouse d'un amour trop puissant et sincère pour vouloir l'esclavager.

En revanche, il aurait aimé qu'une personne faible se soumette à lui, le traite en vrai Roi. Son âge mûr et son ventre poilu le rendaient attirants aux yeux des jeunes homos. En s'inscrivant sur un site de rencontres gay, il ne s'attendait pas à recevoir autant de messages de jeunes garçons obéissants.

Lorsqu'il publia une photo de ses pieds, les messages se sont multipliés par 10 ! Les garçons de goût age suppliaient de les prendre comme amant ou comme esclave !

Heureux d'être toujours aussi attirant à son âge, il décida de choisir un jeune homme légèrement musclé mais surtout qui était prêt à tout quitter pour être l'esclave d'un homme. Lewis voulait que son maître sois plus vieux que lui car il considère les vieux plus attirants et supérieurs aux jeunes hommes. Déçus des garçons de son âge, Lewis rêvait d'appartenir à un homme ressemblant à un papa. Pourtant, Nick Offerman est un fier mâle blanc hétérosexuel élevé dans la croyance de l'infériorité naturelle des homos, ou plutôt des pédés.

L'esclave et l'acteur se sont rencontrés dans un bar après que Nick Offerman ait donné un concert. Il avait retiré son tee-shirt, et l'avait jeté dans la foule, ce qui avait provoqué une bagarre générale car nombreux étaient les pédés qui voulaient renifler sa sueur puante ! Lewis, qui avait regardé le concert, avait été impressionné par le ventre rond poilu de Nick et avait eu une érection en s'imaginant en train de lécher et renifler ses aisselles poilues, ou encore ses chaussettes suantes.

Nick Offerman commanda au bar plusieurs ailes de poulets, et Lewis eut l'audace de prendre ses mains pour nettoyer la sauce sur ses doigts. Pour cela, il suca les doigts de l'acteur. Nick savait dès lors qu'il était face à un vrai pédé qui vénére les papa ours.

Il profita du bruit du bar pour approcher son visage du sien en faisant semblant de vouloir l'embrasser sur la bouche, alors Lewis ferma les yeux et ne vit pas que Nick n'a ouvert la bouche que pour lui roter en plein visage !!

BRRRRRRPTTT !!!!!!

Puis, face à la surprise de Lewis, il continua à lui roter au visage.

BBBRRRRTTTTTT !!!!!

NICK OFFERMAN : "T'aimes ça, hein, pédé ?!"

LEWIS : "Oh oui Maître vos rots sont divins."

Après que les deux hommes aient pris un verre, Nick Offerman proposa à Lewis de venir chez lui. Lewis n'hésita pas une seconde.

Ils ont roulés longuement, à tel point que Nick a ordonné à Lewis de sucer sa longue bite de papa. Lewis était honoré de faire cela. Lorsqu'il eut envie de pisser, Nick a maintenu la tête de Lewis sur sa bite pour l'obliger à avaler sa pisse.

Ils étaient en pleine campagne, et Nick Offerman a profité du fait que celui-ci était au sol entre ses cuisses occupé à sucer sa bite, car il n'a pas pu voir le chemin. Il serait impossible pour lui de retrouver la route, car la maison était cachée dans une immense forêt éloignée des routes principales.

Lorsqu'ils sont arrivés, Nick a pris le jeune homme dans ses bras, qui, même s'il était musclé, aimait être tenu par un homme âgé.

Arrivé dans la maison, Nick Offerman lui arracha ses vêtements. Désormais nu, agenouillé face à son maître, Nick lui ordonna de venir vers lui, à ses pieds.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Lèche mes bottes, pédé."

Le jeune homme lécha les bottes du maître, et celui-ci apprecia d'être traité en vrai Roi.

Puis, Nick Offerman se déplacea et attacha Lewis sur une croix en bois. Là, il le fouetta longuement, et même si les cris de souffrance était de la musique à ses oreilles, il finit par retirer ses chausettes.

Il ne les avait pas retiré depuis qu'il avait fixé rendez-vous à Lewis. Pendant une semaine sans se laver les pieds et changer de chaussettes, il avait dû subir les remarques de son épouse, mais elle l'aimait trop pour lui en vouloir de faire ses propres choix. Elle ignorait tout de la véritable raison des chausettes puantes de son mari.

Il les avait gardé afin qu'il puisse en mettre une dans la bouche de Lewis et l'autre attaché sur son nez. Grâce à cela, il n'entendait plus les cris de douleur de Lewis.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Oui, prends ça sale pédé! Putain tu me dégoute sale pédé ! Oui T'aimes ça les pieds puants d'un homme!"

Lewis était très excité par la puanteur des chaussettes du maître, mais il souffrait aussi. Nick le fouetta longuement avant de revenir le détacher pour le câliner, coller son corps rond puant et poilu contre le corps musclé du jeune homme. Il aima caresser son joli cul.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Tu as gagné ta récompense. Tu vas lécher mes pieds, pédé."

Lewis pleura de joie à l'idée de passer la nuit à lécher les pieds puants d'un homme qui ne s'était pas lavé les pieds plus d'une semaine.

Avec son peignoir autour de lui, Nick vit l'esclave s'approcher de lui tel un toutou.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Ta place est à mes pieds. Je suis heureux de t'avoir à moi."

Il alla dormir dans son grand lit confortable dans cette maison abandonnée. C'est là qu'il passa la nuit à se faire lécher les pieds par Lewis. De grands pieds puants et masculins, couverts de crasse et de saleté accumulée.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Voilà, moi je mange au lit et toi tu avale la crasse de mes pieds. Mes pieds sont comment, pédé ? Puants, hein ? Mais c'est l'odeur des pieds d'un vrai mâle blanc hétéro, je suis sûr que tu aime ça !"

Il laissa ses pieds dépasser du lit pour que Lewis puisse les lécher et les sucer plus facilement. Ses orteils étaient délicieux.

Le lendemain, Nick prit plaisir à être réveillé par un lèchage des pieds. Il détacha ensuite la laisse qui pendait au collier d'esclave de Lewis, qu'il accroché au lit, et prit la laisse pour tirer son esclave à genoux jusqu'à lui. Dans la salon, il prit son café en se faisant lécher les pieds. Cela dura plus d'une heure.

Lewis pressa son visage contre les grands pieds chauds de son maître et inspirait leur odeur masculine et chaude. Il n'était l'as mécontent d'être tombé sur un homophobe, car en bon pédé soumis aux hétéros, il vénérait cet homme qui le trouvait inférieur.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Viens ici pédé."

Nick Offerman ordonna à Lewis de venir sur le canapé, où il posa son gros cul puant sur son visage. Bien que musclé, Lewis n'était pas fort et ne résista pas au poid du cul de Nick. Il commença à péter sur la tête de Lewis, qui tentait de retenir sa respiration.

PPPRRRTTTTT PRRRRTTTTTTTTT !!!!!

NICK OFFERMAN : "Renifle mes pets, pédé."

Lewis fut bien obligé de renifler les pets puants, de plus en plus nombreux sur lui.

Nick s'adressa à Lewis, qui luttait sous le cul.

NICK OFFERMAN : "Je vais te garder avec moi, tu seras mon esclave sexuel, et je ne laverais plus jamais mes pieds. Je viendrais aussi souvent que possible, mais j'enverrai sinon des amis de confiance pour que tu les serves. Ils vont te former à être un esclave. Tu voulais lécher des pieds, tu seras servi. Mes amis sont tous des homophobes qui ne lavent pas leur pieds. Bienvenue au paradis."

Nick Offerman n'a plus jamais lavé ses pieds lui-même, car Lewis était son lécheur de pieds. Lewis n'est jamais rentré chez lui, il a continué à être fouetté par de vieux homophobes gros et puants qui lui enfoncaient leurs chaussettes sales dans la bouche et mettaient leurs caleçons sales sur son visage. Et Lewis n'avais jamais été aussi heureux que lorsqu'il était encagé avec des chaussettes puantes en bouche ou lorsqu'il léchait les longs pieds de Nick Offerman.

Celui-ci avait enfin trouvé son defouloir. Rien ne le détendait plus que de taper un pédé.

FIN DE L'HISTOIRE

👣🥾👣🧦👣🥾👣🧦👣🥾👣🧦👣🥾👣🧦

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When I arrived at my dorm building and told the woman at check in my name she gave me a baffled look. “Charlie Hoover? Sorry love, you’re in the wrong spot. Says you’re living in apartment 2H”. This was startling to me. “Uh sorry are you sure? I registered to live in a single in this dorm building months ago” 

The woman at the desk knitted her eyebrows and looked at the screen in front of her. “Hmm that is odd. According to these records you were moved to apartment 2H just last night.” The woman put her index finger to her lips and then just shrugged it off. “Oh well. Off ya go!” She smiled almost dismissively. 

I hesitated and almost walked away, but thankfully I’ve been working in my confidence. “Sorry uhm actually could you see about moving me back to my original room? I don’t have any friends here and don’t really want to live in an apartment with strangers…” 

The woman gave me a soft look and replied “I can’t do that love, especially since all of the dorms are booked up. I suggest you find your apartment and then write a nice email to the housing department in a couple weeks once you’re settled in.” She smiled me away again and this time I went with the current. 

Back in my car I was panicking as I typed my new apartment into maps. Why was I moved to an apartment, and last night too? 

My car slowly meandered towards the back ends of campus where the upperclassmen apartments were. Driving through the parking lot I saw various students unpacking their cars with friends. Finally I arrived at row H where my apartment would be. And to my surprise most of the students unloading there were tall jocks. Was this the athletics block? 

I gathered my two suitcases and my back pack and began to trek across the lot to the apartments, scanning them for 2H. Once I spotted it I approached and used my key to open the door. 

Inside there was music bumping and the apartment smelled… well let’s just say it smelled lived in. I climbed the stairs dragging my bags along with me and once reaching the top I saw three guys. The first two were tall muscular jocks. One blonde and one with dark brown hair. They were intimidating in their own right but it was the third guy who caused me to lose my breath. 

Standing across from me was my high school bully, Brogan Thorpe. Except now Brogan was massive. I’ve heard of the freshmen twenty but it looks like Brogan got a freshmen twenty, sophomore twenty, and junior twenty. Not only was Brogan chubbier in his face and body but he now had a full greasy beard. 

Once Brogan spotted me a huge grin spread across his face and he shouted “there he is! Man of the hour! The Fart Hoover!!” 

I was panicking again. I wanted to run but I had no where to go. How was this happening?! The two other guys laughed at me along with Brogan. I was in shock as Brogan walked across the room with purpose. Brogan gripped my neck with his big calloused hand and forcefully guided me away from the stairs and deeper into his den. Or I guess I should say our den. 

“Trev, Greg, this is the famous Fart Hoover.” Brogan declared as he pushed me down on the couch and then sat down next to me. Trevor, the blonde, gave me a dopey smile and waved to me. While Greg narrowed his eyes at me sort of scaring me. 

I spoke up for myself for the first time since entering. My voice like a mouse. “My name is Charlie…” 

Brogan laughed at me again and then threw his giant arm over my shoulder. He pulled me in closer to him. I was overwhelmed by his BO. “No need to be modest Hoover. The boys know all about your fart sucking passion. His real name is Fart Hoover”. Brogan declared, emphasizing the world real.

My face burned crimson. How is this happening? “H-how i-is this happ-happening” i was shivering in fear. 

“Awww buddy!” Brogan began to jab at my ribs. I winced and tried to pulled away but his arm over my shoulder held me close. “My uncle’s the Dean. So when i found out you were transferring i had him move you in with us. Last minute too so you had no way to get out of it. And now you’re here all year and you get to be my full time Fart Hoover. More than you ever were in high school” Brogan Trevor and Greg all laughed 

“We had beans for breakfast for you Fart Hoover!” Trevor interjected with cheer. It was mortifying to hear some guy I just met already call me by my humiliating high school nickname. 

In high school Brogan was considered the hottest most popular guy. But early in our freshmen year, at a party, Ashley Lieu one of the most popular girls in our grade said she thought i was more attractive than Brogan. I remember feeling confident for the first time ever in that moment but Brogan shut that down quickly. 

“Him? Nah, no way. What’s your name?” Brogan asked me dismissively. “I’m Charlie Hoover” I reached my hand out to Brogan which he ignored. “Hoover?!” Brogan laughed and the rest of the group joined in with him. “Here i got something for you to vacuum up, Hoover”. I was taken aback by his statement. Brogan stood up and pushed his butt right in my face ripping a loud long squeaker on my face. “Come on deep whiffs Fart Hoover!” Brogan didn’t move off my face until i took deep inhales through my nose. 

The guys in the group all laughed while the girls shouted things like “ewww”. It was safe to say after that Ashley Lieu did not find me attractive anymore. That was also the last party i was invited to for all of high school. And from then on Brogan made it his mission to fart on my face whenever he could. All of high school i was known as the Fart Hoover. Brogan and all his buddies would pin me down in the l locker room or in the bathroom just to make me sniff ass. Sometimes they’d corner me after school and make me sniff each of their butts and farts. The worst was when Brogan would ‘sneak’ me into his wrestling practices so him and some teammates could practice pins on me. It was disgusting, humiliating, and took me a long time to get over…

Brogan ripped a brutal sounding wet monster of a fart on the couch next to me pulling me from my self induced flashback. “Awww Bro!” Trevor and Greg burst out laughing along with Brogan at the fart. I stared at Brogan in horror watching his scrunched up face shift to pleasure as he finished farting. And no sooner than finishing Brogan’s arm slithered off my body and repossessed my neck. Brogan stood from the couch quickly and forced my face directly into the cushion he was just sitting on. 

The stink overwhelmed me instantly. Oh my fuck. It smelled of stinky eggs. “Deep whiffs!!” Brogan shouted as he smeared my face into the warm cushion. I don’t know if it was his body warmth or the fart but between the heat and the stink I felt like i was suffocating. Regardless, like i was on autopilot i began to sniff the fart with earnest. Sucking the cushion with passion. 

Brogan, Trevor, and Greg cackled at my eager fart sniffing like they were animals. “Oh my god Bro! You weren’t kidding!” Trevor shouted and Greg added with disbelief “that’s so disgusting dude” 

I sniffed and i sniffed until I could it smell any more of Brogan’s rotten egg fart. And shortly after i stopped sniffing Brogan released his hold on my neck. 

Instead of standing I slipped down onto my knees and looked up at the three jocks in the room with me pathetically. Trevor was on me in a second. “Fuck bro I’m not waiting. I’ve clenching my cheeks all morning. It’s aboutta smell good”. Trevor jokingly raised the octave of his voice as he said the word good. Trevor had his hand in my hair and yanked my face into his perky gym shorts covered butt. 

Trevor’s butt smelled musky and sour. “Oo that feels weird” he remarked at the feeling of my face being mustered in his butt crack. “Looks gay as fuck” Greg said sounding disgusted. 

With no warning a deep bassy fart bellowed out of Trevor’s butt and onto my face. Instinctively I began to whiff and whiff and whiff. Burning my sinuses with Trevor’s fart. I gagged but continued to sniff. The guys all laughed at the funny sounding fart and even more at my pathetic deep sniffing. “Damn you love this shit Fart Hoover. Just wait until after one of my hockey practices” Trevor remarked. 

After Trevor let go of my hair and stepped away from me I couldn’t even bring myself to look up. I was disgusted with myself. I’d worked so hard the last three years. I was finally becoming a man but in a matter of seconds here I was again. Nothing a but a Fart Hoover. 

“Let’s go Greg! You talk big all the time about how your farts are the worst. Prove it with Fart Hoover.” Brogan goaded Greg to take a turn with me. 

Greg scowled. “Yea my farts are the nastiest! But this is weird. I don’t want some losers face in my butt” 

Brogan reached out and grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks between his gross fingers. Directing my gaze upwards towards Greg. “Aww come on dude. It’s not weird he has a face made for farting on!”

This made Greg laugh a little. “Okay, I guess I have to agree his face does look perfect for farts.” 

Brogan let go of my face. “That’s the spirit!”

I didn’t even want to start thinking about what it could possibly mean that my face looked perfect for getting farted on. 

Greg approached me again wearing his darkened look. Eyes narrowed nose slightly scrunched. Looking at me like I was disgusting to him. “You want farts, Hoover?” He said with an aggression. Nearly spitting on me.

I glanced at Brogan and he raised his eyebrows looking at me sternly. I knew what the right answered was. My voice shook. 

“Yes please” 

Greg smirked and then turned around presenting his butt to me. Greg then pulled down the back of his sweatpants and boxers exposing his bare ass to my face. Greg’s butt cheeks were covered in thick black hair and long wiry hairs tangled out of the whole length of his butt crack. I gasped at the sight while Trevor and Brigham howled with laughter. “Might as well give him an authentic experience, buns out” Greg shrugged.

“Dude you were calling us gay a minute ago and now you’re letting the pussy touch your bare ass?!” Trevor teased 

Greg turned mooning his friends. “Fuck off, if your ass was half as hairy as mine you’d he using it to your advantage too”. Greg shook his butt at them and then turned back to my awaiting face.

The miasma of heat emanating from Greg’s butt had me feeling woozy. His hand gripped my hair and guided my face into his butt crack.  Greg’s butt crack was so hairy and so damp I felt sick. He rubbed my face around in there a bit too! Wiping his butt sweat all over me. And then he unleashed a guttural blast. It lasted so long and the sound was squishy and gross! I was struggling to break free of his grip and get my nose away from the stink but Greg wouldn’t let me go. I gagged and cried. But more importantly I sniffed! I sniffed as hard as my nose would allow! I was the Fart Hoover! This is my purpose! No! Wait that’s wrong! My name is Charlie!

Oh fuck I was gonna be sick. Greg’s butt and fart were disgusting and I couldn’t stop sniffing! 

Finally letting me go I slipped from Greg’s hairy butt. My face was wet. Be it sweat or butt slime. “So gross dude” Greg remarked as he pulled his pants back up and walked away from me into the kitchen. 

I felt so defiled. “Alright Hoover, follow me. Let’s get you unpacked in your bedroom”. Surprisingly, Brogan grabbed both of my suitcases for me and carried them back towards my bedroom for me. I sheepishly followed behind him. 

“See ya in a few fart face” Trevor called behind me. 

Arriving in my room Brogan had already begun to unpack my clothes for me. He did so carelessly. Mixing underwear with shirts and jeans with socks. I’d have to reorganize later. Brogan glanced at me continuing to unpack my bags with a speed. “Close the door and make your bed.” He demanded. And I obeyed. 

I hated letting him boss me around. I thought I was better than this and yet…

I pulled my sheets from my bag and started making my bed. By the time I finished Brogan had also ‘unpacked’ the rest of my clothing. No quicker than I tucked in my last blanket Brogan had pinned me on my bed. His massive chubby body squishing me into the mattress with ease. Our faces were inches apart and he stared at me with that disgusting sadistic lust. Brogan leaned in slightly closer and then belched right into my face. It was wet and sounded horrible so close up. And the stench was rotten. 

Our eyes remained locked and I whimpered at Brogan. He responded by lightly blowing his burp air into my face. And I sniffed! Oh fuck I sniffed so deeply. It smelled so nasty! I gagged under his body weight. How could someone’s burp smell so badly!? Does he ever brush his teeth?!

Brogan chuckled at me. “Good Fart Hoover”. Brogan then lifted himself off my body but pinned my wrists with his hands and slid his crotch directly over my face. Brogan then began to lightly hump and tea bag my face. His navy blue mesh gym shorts were so musky and provided little barrier. “I’ve missed you Hoover” Brogan said softly as he continued to thrust on my face. He then slid forward so his butt was on my face. “Please, you’re so disgusting!” I cried beneath him. 

“I’m disgusting?!” Brogan sounded offended. “Nah I think you’ve got us mixed up bud” And I heard a hot silent fart hiss from his cheeks. It burned so badly. The stench was of eggs hot boiled stinky eggs. I sniffed it all. I sniffed it all with a gusto. Brogan laughed at my inhales. “You’re disgusting Hoover”. 

Brogan then readjusted himself so he was facing my feet. “Case in point. You missed me too huh?” Brogan said as he flicked my rock hard dick that was nearly sticking out of my khaki shorts. That’s right…. There’s a part of me I’ve been keeping secret.

After Brogan had first farted on me back in the day it turned into a regular thing. He farted on me so much, every day multiple times a day, that I started to find him and his farts arousing. I think it was a defense mechanism. Brogan had literally conditioned me to fall in love with his stinky ass and nasty farts. No matter how much I told myself I hated farts they’d still turn me on.

And Brogan knew what he did to me too. When we were in public or with his friends his bullying was cruel but in private, just the two of us, he got erotic. There were times when he’d make me touch myself while forcing me to sniff his farts. A part of me even believed for a bit that Brogan liked me and farting on me in the same way I liked him. But that was all too good to be true right? Brogan had numerous girlfriends over the years. And yet even when he was in a relationship he’d send me snaps of himself farting with captions like “go jerk off to this Hoover”. 

I spent my formative years obsessing and fearing Brogan. But after spending the last three years apart and getting some therapy I thought I’d finally moved on from him and his farts. I hadn’t even jerked off to anything fart related in over a year! I was so proud of myself for finally making a man of myself. All for it to crumble beneath Brogan’s swampy ass. 

A deep gurgly fart grumbled from Brogan’s butt. It vibrated my entire face. “Fuck, Hoover. Sniff that shit” Brogan moaned and began to lightly bounce on my face. I’d missed this so much. I inhaled with all my might which caused me to gag aggressively. 

Brogan hopped off my face and the bed. Once standing he yanked his shorts and boxers down. I looked over at him, now just wearing his stained tank top. Brogan’s massive thick hairy thighs and beefy butt in full view and I was in love again. But of more important note Brogan’s dick was standing at full mast. 

Brogan looked down at me and licked his lips and then began to rub his cock. “You’re gonna sniff mine, Greg and Trev’s farts every day Hoover. You’re going to suck them all up like the good Fart Hoover you are.” Brogan squeezed his dick and his eyes rolled back. “I’m going to make you eat my farts every day and you’re going to thank me for it”. I couldn’t believe Brogan was jerking off in front of me. He’d never gone this far before.

I couldn’t resist any longer, my hand slipped into my shorts and I began to rub my dick as well. Brogan continued. “I’m gonna fuck so many chicks on campus and afterwards you’ll be here to sniff my sweaty ass and farts. That’s all you’re good for!” 

We were both jerking off with a ferocity now. Brogan is perfect. I love his chubby belly. i love how much he stinks. I love how mean he is to me. “And you’re not allowed to have sex Hoover. Not that you could get anyone in the first place. But you belong to me. My farts are your sex” 

This made me cum in my shorts. Brogan was right his farts are my sex and they always have been. I’ve never been with a girl or a guy. And despite trying to find new sexual interests this last year the truth I’ve always known is that nothing turns me on like farts, like Brogan’s farts. 

“Your farts are my sex!” I moaned out like a pathetic bitch. It was the loudest I’d been since entering my new home. I seemed to surprise Brogan but excite him. His cock now slurping as he slid up and down it. And then he came. Shooting cum all over my bed. He continued to jerk himself off until his dick deflated. And then he wiped his slimy hand on one of my pillows. 

Brogan leaned over my face, his balls grazing me until he settled his bare ass on my nose. His butt was sweaty and he slowly moved it around on my face. Almost like he was trying to pet my nose with his butt crack hair. “I’m happy you’re here Hoover.” 

I was mortified and disgusted with both myself and the state of Brogan’s nasty butt which he was smearing on my face. But more importantly I couldn’t have been happier.  And I was looking forward to however Brogan would humiliate me next! 

Dom Qoutes : Season 7 : MattonTop

Held in position with no escape like the good dog you are. I will loosen my grip gradually as you sniff, lick, and kiss between my cheeks, slowly becoming more devoted and obedient. Freedom comes with proving you serve my ass! Then we can work on sniffing farts.

Dom Qoutes : Season 7 : Jakipz

The deal was if you were late home one more time that you would have to be my seat for the night. Well guess who isn't home on time? You! And guess who didn't shower after his evening run? Yeah that's right, ME! Get your face back home quick for daddys ass!

Wake-up Call

The dense forest was a tomb of echoing silences and suffocating darkness, a relentless void where time seemed to decay into madness. In this subterranean hell, the squad of soldiers, existed in a limbo of despair and camaraderie.

Sergeant Jameson, his features etched with the brutal graffiti of war and confinement, maintained a vigil over his men. Private Daniels lay among them, unconscious, a casualty of the relentless grip of hunger and exhaustion.

It was Corporal Thompson who shattered the monotony, his eyes sparking with a hint of untamed mischief. “Yo, dudes, check this out,” he grinned, the shadows dancing on his face. “Let’s give ol’ Daniels a welcome back he ain’t gonna forget!”

The soldiers, starved for entertainment, rallied to Thompson's call with a mix of enthusiasm and desperation. Private Miller was the first to act, swaggering over to Daniels with the confidence of a high school quarterback in his prime. “Watch and learn, boys,” he boasted, lowering his rear near Daniels’ head. With a grunt, he unleashed a deep, thunderous fart, the sound ricocheting off the cave walls. The stench that followed was a tangible entity, a beast unleashed, rich with the odors of undigested rations and bitter survival.

“Dude, that’s rank!” exclaimed Jackson, his voice a mixture of disgust and admiration. They all laughed, a sound that was a relief.

Thompson, not to be outdone, stepped up with a sly smirk. “Time for the main event, gents.” He executed his maneuver with dramatic flair, waddling down low into Danny’s face and producing a fart that cut through the air like a knife. The smell was fierce, an acidic burn that seemed to sear even their nostrils. “That’s how it’s done!” he declared, puffing out his chest in triumph.

Lastly, Jackson took his turn, the youngest and most impish of the group. He draw a large laugh from the crowd by lowering his trousers, and sumo squatting his ass, covered only by (both sweat and shit stained) boxers…lining up the crack to the center of the poor lad’s face. With a conspiratorial smirk, he let loose a silent but deadly emission, a stealthy gas that spread like a whisper of doom. Its scent was a complex narrative of decay, a slow invasion of the senses.

As the concocted stench enveloped them, Daniels began to stir. His first conscious act was to recoil, his face contorting in horror and disbelief. “What the—? Holy hell, guys!” he gasped, his voice raspy and incredulous.

In the cave's murky light, Thompson and Jackson moved towards Daniels with a glint of mischief in their eyes, their steps measured and deliberate. Thompson’s hands were firm and unwavering as they secured Daniels' wrists to the cold, gritty cave floor. Jackson, chuckling, adjusted Daniels' head with an equally firm grip, ensuring the trooper’s nose was perfectly aligned for maximum exposure.

“Ready for round two, Danny boy?” Thompson taunted, his voice rich with dark amusement. Jackson sniggered, his fingers expertly tilting Daniels’ chin to just the right angle.

Daniels, groggy and disoriented, managed a whimpered protest, “What the fuck!… I’ll beat your asses…” His words slurred, blending into the damp, heavy air of the cave.

Miller, standing ready for his performance, smirked down at Daniels. “Oh you want ass?” Throwing some of those watching in into fits of laughter. “You’re gonna love this encore, man,” he declared with theatrical bravado. He also lowered the uniform before squatting, aligning himself with a precision that was almost clinical. Because of the restrainment, Daniel’s nose was in clear view as it got smooshed up against Miller’s wide crack. The first release was a thunderous blast, a potent sound that echoed off the trees, followed by a stench that was both immediate and overwhelming. It was a direct hit, engulfing Daniels’ senses in a maelstrom of foulness.

The soldiers burst into laughter, their howls echoing through the cave. “Direct hit!” shouted Jackson, barely able to contain his glee. Thompson’s grip on Daniels’ wrists momentarily loosened as he doubled over in laughter.

Seeing Daniels squirm, Thompson quickly reasserted his hold. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said, a grin in his voice. “We’re not done yet.”

As they readjusted their grip, positioning Daniels for the next assault, Miller was already prepping for his second act. “Gotta make this one count, boys,” he said, a wicked anticipation lacing his words.

With a gleeful countenance, Miller executed his second fart, a sharp, ripping sound that sliced through the cave's stale air. The stench was a tangible entity, dense and suffocating, enveloping Daniels’ head in a toxic cloud.

Daniels, now fully awake, could only gasp and sputter in the fetid air. “God, you’re all sick!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both revulsion and a begrudging respect for the absurdity of the situation.

The echo of their laughter hadn’t yet faded when Thompson, his eyes still sparkling with mischief, turned to the newest member of their squad, Private Harris. “Your turn, newbie. Show us what you’ve got,” he challenged, his tone playful yet edged with the unspoken hierarchy of their brotherhood.

Harris, eager to prove his mettle, stepped forward with a mixture of anxiety and eagerness etched on his youthful face. Meanwhile, Miller, not content with just being a spectator now, moved to Daniels’ legs, gripping them with unnecessary force, ensuring their victim was fully immobilized. “Can’t miss the show,” he joked, his grin devilish in the lantern’s flickering light.

Daniels, trapped and resigned, could only grunt in response, his eyes wide with apprehension and a hint of indignation. “This is so messed up,” he muttered, the resignation in his voice tinged at the absurdity of his predicament.

Harris, continuing the tradition positioned his crack down the center of Daniel’s face, then emboldened by the camaraderie and the bizarre ritual of initiation, let loose. His first attempt was a small gust, more a puff than a roar, which elicited chuckles and a few encouraging shouts of “Come on, Harris, you can do better!”

Flushing with determination, Harris squared his shoulders and, with a concentrated effort, unleashed a second fart, this one louder, more assertive, echoing through the cave with a resonance that spoke of untapped potential. The smell hit them like a wave, a robust blend of fear, adrenaline, and the remnants of their meager rations.

“Damn, rookie, not bad!” Thompson exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and respect. Daniels, his face a mask of disbelief and discomfort, could only shake his head and groan, “Oh, God, why me?”

As the stench enveloped them, a camaraderie forged in the most unlikely and unsavory of circumstances bubbled to the surface. The laughter that followed was unrestrained, filling the cave with echoes of their shared absurdity. The soldiers, each playing their part in the bizarre theater of their survival, found solace in the ridiculousness of their actions.

Thompson, always one to escalate their antics, clapped his hands with enthusiasm, signaling his intent to take their crude game to the next level. “Alright, boys, let’s amp this up!” he declared, his voice a mix of command and excitement. The squad, energized by the previous rounds of their juvenile game, eagerly awaited Thompson’s next move.

With a conspiratorial glance at his captive audience, Thompson approached Daniels, who was still pinned down by Miller and Harris. “You think you’ve had it bad, Daniels? Brace yourself, buddy,” Thompson teased, his tone light yet tinged with the promise of further mischief. Suddenly as he began calmly walking up to the site of his seat, he lowered both his trousers as well as boxers, revealing an awfully hairy and sweaty bare ass. Immediately all the men started to howl, enthralled with this entertainment. Thompson, with a performer’s flair, carefully aligned himself, ensuring that there were no barriers between the impending blast and Daniels’ nose. His dirty hole spread just atop the private’s flaring nostrils. The other soldiers gathered around, their previous exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the wake of their growing amusement.

With a dramatic pause, Thompson executed his fart, a loud, resonant blast that seemed to echo through the cavern. His anus momentarily pulsed against Danial’s only open airway and smooshed his nose upward leaving no room for mercy when blasting into it. The smell was immediate and overpowering, a direct hit that left no room for escape or denial.

The reaction was instantaneous. The soldiers roared with laughter, their camaraderie reinforced through the shared absurdity of the moment. Daniels, caught in the direct line of fire, could only groan and laugh, his protests muffled by the collective mirth of his squad.

“Thompson, you’re officially the king of the cave,” Jackson declared, slapping Thompson on the back, their earlier tensions dissolved in the unifying ridiculousness of their situation.