Hello! Thank you for coming to my corner of hornyville! My name is Lanceon (you can call me Lance) and I write Erotic fiction. I've been writing fart fetish content since I was about 14 (my first story was a Ron Stoppable and Jake Long fanfiction).
You may have seen me before. I used to run several blogs on here. Most notably GayButtBoy, xXTheBrokenAceXx, L_O_A_A_C_S (Life of an asexual college student), TheFallenLlama14, and MORE!
Some things you won't see on my blog that is common for people in this corner:
-Scat content, Feet content, Father/Son content, Furry/Pokemon content (dont come for me, I'm a furry, I just don't like writing furry content)
Feel free to send suggestions, however, my projects take priority and if I don't think I can do it, then I'll let you know.
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Hey, can you give some picture references of Officer Vannover physique?
I'm sorry, I honestly don't and I'm not about to post real pictures of him. Don't wanna dox him or myself. However if I find someone who looks similar I'll definitely share.
Brandon is 6'4" (I asked) and can apparently bench 315. When he's wearing his uniform pants, you can see the line of his boxers and his ass is just big. It fits him proportionally, but like it's big and honestly I would believe someone if they said he got a BBL but no he's just blessed like that. I would also categorize him in the "he is extremely fit, but you can tell he doesn't say no to donuts" category.
The closest I can think of is Trevor Wagner but a bit more leaner.
I think you need to be stuck sniffing Officer Vanover’s hairy butt for a longer period of time to really appreciate its stink. This quick bursts of worship aren’t enough. You need to be trapped sniffing swamp ass and farts for at least a few hours
I love asks like this because not only does it get me extremely in the mood to write, but it also gave me an evil idea for my next part. :)
Tags: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Unwilling Victim, Open Mouth Farting, Naked Mouth Fart, F Slur Usage, Eproctophilia, Gay Victim, Straight(ish) Farter, Dubious-Consent, Musky Dom, Mean Dom, (Minor) Ball Torture, Physical Threats
March 25 - 6:07 PM
I'm in my kitchen, stirring my linguini when I hear a knock on the door. For the briefest moment, I thought it was Brandon, but something about the knock seemed, hesitant. No way it could be Brandon. A few seconds pass and another round of knocking, this time a little more sure of themselves. I turn the burner off, wipe my hands on my towel, before heading towards the front door.
When I open the door, there's a slender woman with her hand raised as she's about to knock again. "Oh." She says to me in a confused tone. "I-I must have the wrong place."
"No worries." I respond and begin to close the door. She's about to turn to leave, but she stops herself.
"Do you know Brandon?"
"Vanover?"
"Yeah!" She sounds almost surprised and she bites her cheek, "I saw this address in his phone GPS and I didn't recognize it. And it's always when I'm at the gym or with my girl friends."
This is when the situation fully hits me. This is the Mrs. Vanover.
"Oh. Brandon and I work together." I'm not lying. "He's been staying on top of my workout routine and what not." Okay now I'm lying.
"Oh really? He never said anything to me." I can't pretend to imagine what she's thinking, but I know what I'm thinking and I'm panicking.
"Ye-yeah, I'm getting back into the swing of things. And I mean, you know Brandon, he's like hella built. So I had to ask him for some pointers." I ignore that sense of guilt in my stomach.
"Okay, well." She throws her hair over her shoulder. "Seeing you, I know he's not cheating. He doesn't swing that way, no offense."
"None taken?"
"I'll get out of your hair." She adjusts her purse back onto her shoulder. I don't watch as she leaves, just close the door and have a few seconds to myself to freak out.
Are things going too far? Maybe I should really stop Brandon from coming over here. I hate the idea of helping Brandon cheat on his wife, but, is he really cheating? I mean, he's literally forcing me to eat his ass and farts. And he doesn't really let me blow him.
I don't end up making a decision today.
March 26 -
"Did you tell my wife that I'm your personal trainer?" I look up and see Sgt. Vanover in my doorway.
"I-Not in those words." He looks annoyed. "She showed up at my door. What did you expect me to tell her?" His eyes narrow and he closes my office door.
"Well, if you used your head, you wouldn't have said anything." Okay, yeah, he's not in a good mood.
"Would you rather I tell her what you do? How you make me worship your ass?" He doesn't drop the glare but I see his shoulders slump. "What even is this dude." I break eye contact. "I'm not a home wrecker." I don't say anyone in particular.
"Nothing about what we're doing is cheating. I have no emotional attachment to you."
"Ouch."
"You're nothing more than a replaceable faggot." That stung.
"Then replace me." I flippantly say fed up with this situation. "I'm not living with the guilt of knowing that I'm helping you sneak around your wife."
"We'll see how long that lasts. You're so obsessed with me, you won't make it a week without my ass."
"Keep telling yourself that asshole." He'll be eating his words. "Get out." I point at the door. "If you need technical assistance, you may call me. Other than that, leave me alone."
He gives me a final glare down, but he leaves my office without any issue.
March 28 - 7:00 PM
I'm watching some stupid YouTube video when I hear my phone buzz. Just a notification that a number I don't have saved sent me a video attachment. I press the notification, where a security footage video of the Police Gym has been saved. It's a video of Brandon doing barbell squats, clearly zoomed in on his ass every time he squats.
Look, his ass may be responsible for destroying my sense of smell lately, but it's still an amazing ass. And if my dick takes interest, that's no ones business. I still have two pairs of musky boxers that belong to Brandon, and I use that to my advantage.
While watching the prick do a squat, I'd take a large inhale of his boxers. The musk overwhelms my brain and it isn't long before I have my tongue out and stroking my dong like a crazed gooner. Fuck, the way his ass hugs those gym shorts should be illegal. Stroke, sniff, stroke, sniff, stroke, sniff, over and over again. It doesn't take much, before I'm shooting my load across myself and the floor.
Maybe this will be harder than I thought?
March 29 - 8:00 PM
Brandon didn't show up this weekend. Which, I can't be mad because I did tell him to replace me. I don't know, I thought maybe he would show up anyway.
I don't worry about it too much. I just put that gym video back on, on repeat this time, and crank my hog for a good piece of the night.
March 30 - 6:28 AM
I arrive to the Police Department before my shift. I'm not sure what I'm doing or feeling, but my feet are moving on their own. If it's a normal day, Brandon should already be down at the gym doing his workout. I get to the open door and, as I thought, Brandon was there. He's wearing some thin gym shorts that don't leave much to the imagination.
Not even here for 30 seconds and I'm already staring at his ass as he squats. He catches my eye when he looks up to the mirror. He gives me the shittiest grin I've ever seen and I'm immediately annoyed. I'm about to turn back around and leave when he racks the barbell.
"Well, well, well, the fag couldn't stay away." I roll my eyes as he saunters his way to me. Yeah, those gym shorts, are not shy at all. Brandon's meaty bulge is on full display and there's so much saliva in my mouth. "What do you want?" He crosses his arms.
"I got the security footage." I say, doing my best to sound unimpressed, but Brandon doesn't seem to follow. "You know, of you working out?"
"What?" At that, I pull out my phone and show him the video. He watches it for a bit, and I see him starting to get angry. "What the hell." He grabs my phone from my hand and starts tapping.
"Whoa wait." I try to grab my phone back but he moves away as he grabs his phone.
"Fucking asshole." He's staring at his phone.
"You figure out who sent it."
"Hanford." I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course it was that asshole.
"Oh." I say still trying to act unimpressed. "Well, thanks for the fun weekend." I give Brandon a wink and I'm about to leave but he grabs the back of my shirt, and I almost trip over myself.
"You don't get to have fun at my expense." He said with the most genuine anger I've seen from him.
"I-" I don't get to finish the sentence, as he pulls me towards the locker room. "Wait-wait-wait." I say as we get closer, but he's not paying attention.
"My wife had to put up with my gas all weekend, and you were fagging out watching me workout. You're lucky I don't beat your ass." He flings me into the locker room, and as I'm turning around he slams the door shut and locks it. "Knees. Now." He says through gritted teeth.
"No," I cross my arms. "Let me leave or I'm going to HR." This doesn't even phase him. Instead, he grabs my midsection and wrestles me down onto the ground. With his height and weight advantage, there's no way I'm overpowering him. He has me pinned down, my face trapped inside the crack of his gym shorts while my head is pressed against the concrete floor.
"You're going to take every single one of my farts." He lifts and slams his ass down onto my face for emphasis. "And you better fucking say thank you."
There's no way in hell I'm thanking him for this torture. But there's no way I'm getting out of this, easily anyways.
PFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT
"Say it!"
"Fuck you!"
PFFFFFFFFBBBRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
"Say it, faggot!" He yells.
"FUCK. YOU." I respond back.
In my horror, he grabs my balls with his right hand. "Say it, or I'm crushing them." He already has them in an uncomfortable grip and he slightly squeezes showing his intent.
PBRBRBRBRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
A few seconds go by and I feel the pressure get tighter. "Fu-fu-fuck! Fine, fuck! Thank you!"
"Not good enough." He squeezes and I let out a startled yelp as pain starts radiating throughout my body.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
He rips another long fart, this time straight into my mouth. "Say it." My whole body bucks against him as the pressure against my balls start again.
"Fuck, okay okay! Fuck! Thank you, fuck! Sir thank you for farting on my face." I rush to get out and the pressure around my balls release.
"Good faggot. Your place is in my ass." He grinds his ass down on me. "Don't fucking forget it."
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
"Thank you sir!" I say through the tears free flowing. My whole body is feeling wrecked, and all I can smell and taste is ass.
"Where are my thank yous faggot?" I don't have the energy to keep going. I feel my arm fall limp next to me as I'm being crushed by Brandon's weight. "Yo!" He swats my leg, but my brain is fried. All I can smell and feel is Brandon's rancid gas destroying me. My head is spinning when Brandon finally gets off me.
It takes a few moments, and a few smacks from Brandon and I'm back. "Fuck." Is what I manage to say.
"I didn't even take my shorts off. You're pretty pathetic. I'm surprised you can even call yourself a man." He adjusts the sizable bulge in his shorts.
"Fuck off." I give him a middle finger as I get back to my feet. "Go to hell." I go to leave the locker room, but I'm wobbly on my feet and I end up tripping over myself. To my surprise though, Brandon catches me and helps me back onto my feet.
"I'll meet you there faggot." He gives my ass a hard slap. "Let me make things clear again for you. I am the man here. If I want you on your knees begging for my ass, then you better beg the hardest you ever have." He grabs the front of my shirt. "And don't fucking talk to my wife again."
I stand in silence as I listen to the words over and over in my head. Instead of responding, I limp over to the exit, loudly unlatch the door and throw it open. "Whatever." Is the last thing I say, before heading to my car and leaving.
I end up calling sick for the day.
March 30 - 1:44 PM
I've showered twice and brushed my teeth probably 10 times. The taste and smell of Brandon is still lingering on me. It's to the point I was researching online to try and find a way to get rid of the smell, but the only thing I'm finding is using tomato juice for Stunk sprays. Maybe I should just fill the tub with tomato juice and submerge myself.
I don't get to ponder the thought for long when there's a loud knock on my door. No doubt Brandon, based on the pattern of knock. I ignore him and go to my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I pop in my Beats and start blasting music to drown out the knocking.
I'm startled however when my bedroom door is thrown open. There's two seconds of me and Brandon staring at each other. "How the fuck?!" I yell at him pulling out my ear buds.
"Standard issue lock pick set." He shows the metal bits in his hands. "Stop being a pussy." He closes the door, but doesn't come any closer.
"I'm not being a pussy." I throw myself off the bed and I get into Brandon's space. "You're an ass, and I'm trying to limit my time around assholes." I poke him in the chest for emphasis, but he just looks annoyed. It doesn't help that he has a weight and height advantage over me.
"Are you done?"
"Fuck you Brandon. I'm not done." I poke his chest again, this time though he grabs my hand tightly. "Let go."
"Are you going to keep jabbing me?"
"If it's necessary." I use the other hand to jab him.
"You're a fucking baby. Grow up."
"Grow up?! What are you on?! You're the one who shows up unannounced. And to what? Sit and fart on my face? What the fuck is your problem?" He's just watching me unamused as I rant. "Who the fuck even does shit like that. It's disgusting, and I'm tired of playing like it's not. Your ass is disgusting, and frankly the amount of gas you have at any given time should worry a doctor."
"God, can you just shut up." He says as he glances at his watch. "You are so annoying." He pushes me, and I go stumbling back towards my bed. I manage to catch my balance before fully falling onto my bed, but as I'm adjusting, he pushes me again and I fully fall onto my bed. I hear his belt unclick and then the telltale sign of his pants and gear hitting the ground.
I go to roll off the bed away from Brandon, but he grabs my shirt. I attempt to twist out of the shirt and slip out, making a dash to the bedroom door. I don't make it though, Brandon grabs my midsection and ends up slamming me back onto the bed. From there we are wrestling around, but with Brandon's height and weight advantage, I end up getting pinned against the bed.
He's sitting on my chest and holding my arms to my side, both of us panting. "Please." I know there is no mercy in Brandon.
"Shut up." Brandon makes a show of taking off his uniform shirt and then the tee shirt underneath. He runs his hands down his body and my eyes track the movement to his groin, where he adjusts his bulge. He puts a hand on my shoulder before lifting his weight off me. I entertain the idea of trying to run or buck again, but he plops down on my face, his black underwear blocking out my view.
He still smells musky, but not as bad as his usual.
"I don't think you understand faggot. This is your role, as my personal throne and fart sniffer. Your job is to filter out my gas and thank me for my godly farts. Anything past that isn't my business." He grunts and lets out a nasty 10 second fart.
"Breathe faggot!" I hear the anger in his voice, and it's enough to convince me to take an inhale of the toxic fumes. Immediately, the stench burns my nose and is making me gag and cough while still being trapped in his ass. "Good boy. Here we go, sniff in 5-4-3-2-1." I time my inhale with the disgusting barrage of gas that hits my nose.
It honestly feels like my nose hairs are being singed off as the gas makes it's way into my lungs. "I should be hearing thank yous." He says as he's grinding his crack along my nose and face.
"Fuuck." Brandon moans and he slaps my leg. "Say it bitch."
"Fuck you Brandon." I say in between coughs.
"Your funeral." It feels like his whole body shrugs. "You're not getting any mercy from me." Not like he was showing me any in the first place. I feel him moving to release the next round of farts on me, when he flicks my crotch. I yell out, and he uses that time to really press his ass down against my face.
Two loud and long farts forced down my throat. The taste is unbearable, and immediately I feel myself convulsing and bile trying to leave my stomach. But it doesn't make it anywhere and I'm forced to swallow down another fart with the bile. "Fuck, that must've sucked."
Airy after airy fart keeps getting blown down my throat, making sure the only thing I'm tasting is his guts. "Fuck those are rough." He grinds his hips on my face. "I know you're loving this faggot." He gives my side a pat.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT
I wish I could throw up on him to show that I'm in fact not loving this. But right now I'm just trying to focus on surviving this encounter.
"Holy fuck." Brandon sounds out of breath as I breathe in the volley of farts. "Good luck taking those." My arms are feeling weak, but I manage to give him the middle finger. "Oh no, fuck you my friend." He lifts himself off me and pulls his boxers underneath his bare ass. "You haven't had nothing yet." As his ass starts to lower on my face again, I try to twist away, but his fat ass plops down on my face directly. I keep trying to twist and kick, but my face is stuck underneath his weight. "Seriously? Where do you think you're going?"
I'm always so unprepared for how much worse his farts smell when there isn't a layer of fabric in my face. My nose pokes into his unclothed hole and he's blowing gas straight down my nose.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
There's nothing I can do, I'm trapped, and all I can smell is Brandon's musk and farts. It's hot and sweaty and I'm trapped in Brandon's ass.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
Fuck the smell is so fucking bad, I can't fucking breathe. The world is spinning around me and I feel like I'm falling, and my body bucks against Brandon.
He uses his weight to hold me down and force more farts up my nose. At this point, I don't think it matters anymore though. All I can smell, taste, and feel is Brandon's gas. Everything in my body feels like it's straining and I'm struggling to breathe.
I unwillingly breathe in the bombs, but it doesn't bring any relief. Brandon is shaking his ass and making my head bounce between his ass cheeks when the thought that he may kill me with his gas hits me. I can feel myself vibrating at the same time I'm losing feeling in my feet.
"Why aren't you sniffing my godly farts!?" Brandon yells as he flicks my crotch again. I convulse, but immediately after I feel my body go limp against the bed.
"Fuck. You." I still manage. He lifts up and for a moment, I think I'm saved, but then he slams back down hard.
"Fuck you faggot. This is all you're good for. Just a fart cushion for a GOD." He's grinding his crack against my nose again, and I swear I can feel him flexing his arms above me.
"Fuck yes. Breathe that shit in, let it fry that little faggot brain of yours." I gag against his naked ass, but let the smell radiate throughout my body. "Breathe." Again I inhale.
30 seconds of pure alpha gas is forced into my nostrils and that's where everything goes black. I feel like I'm floating in space and everything is miles away. I still hear Brandon's farts ringing out from his hole, but, it doesn't feel like I'm here anymore.
The smell is still hitting me, over and over again, but it doesn't seem as bad as before. My limbs eventually fall limp to my sides and I'm out.
When I wake up the few minutes later, I'm extremely groggy. Brandon is naked standing next to the bed and quickly masturbating his thick dong. I go to sit up, but his hand forces me back down and before I can complain, he's straddling my chest. He sits down and slaps his cock on my face over and over. "Good for nothing faggot." His cock slaps my face three more times before he starts stroking again. "Can't even handle my gas. Fucking pathetic ass faggot." He roughly grabs my chin and starts to shoot his load over my face. He ends up shooting several loads onto my face, likely not leaving a surface free of cum.
After he finishes shooting his large load, he grabs his clothing off the floor and starts putting them back on. I actually manage to sit up this time and the room is spinning. My head is pounding and everything feels sticky or gross. I make eye contact with Brandon, he gives me a shit eating grin and flexes in front me. "You're welcome. You've just been blessed by a god."
"More like the devil."
"Let's be clear here. You're my faggot." Brandon says as he buttons his shirt. "I take what I want. You give what I want." Yes the words he just said are kind of fucked up. But he did just say, I'm his faggot. And I don't know why, but that makes my heart skip.
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you, faggot." He responds back, as he readjusts his bulge into his pants and clips his belt back on. "Next time I get here, you better be on your knees waiting for me." I watch as Brandon leaves my room and listen for the apartment door to open and shut.
Almost as soon as the door is shut, I'm in the bathroom assessing the damage. I'm red and splotchy, but it's mostly just cum all over my face. I ignore the thought in my head to just eat it, and wash my face and brush my teeth probably 5 times in a row.
When I get back to my bed, there's a text from an unknown number waiting. "6:30 AM, Police Gym Locker Room. You better be on your knees when I get there. -B"
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Like this was not a concensual, please hot box me in your car. It was, hey my computer isn't working when I leave here. Can you come with me so I can show you the issue. And we drive around the city and dude is farting up a storm, talking about "that shit stinks." And I'm rock hard. I'm going to fucking die I swear.
The Officer Vanover series is so fucking hot. I’ve been refreshing your page multiple times a day for the next part to come out. Any ideas on when that could be?
I have about 3k words written for part 4 right now. But I haven't had a lot of time to write recently. I've been extremely sick since last August (found out I have Ulcerative Colitis and Celiac Disease) and between working full time and trying to just survive, it's been hard to write.
I'm almost done though I swear. Hopefully be up next week!
Like this was not a concensual, please hot box me in your car. It was, hey my computer isn't working when I leave here. Can you come with me so I can show you the issue. And we drive around the city and dude is farting up a storm, talking about "that shit stinks." And I'm rock hard. I'm going to fucking die I swear.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tags: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Somewhat willing Victim, Open Mouth Farting, Naked Mouth Fart, F Slur Usage, Eproctophilia, Gay Victim, Straight(ish) Farter, Dubious-Consent, Forced Ass Eating (Rimming), Musky Dom, Mean Dom
March 19 -
I'm in the middle of writing a script when Brandon drops by my office. I startle as he knocks his first against the door. "Morning." I manage.
"Morning." He saunters in. "I need the grey boxers back."
"Dude!" My eyes dart past him to see if anyone is around. "Close the door." He rolls his eyes but closes the door anyway.
"I need the grey boxers back." He says again. "Drop them off at my locker in the gym."
"The gym? Wait you guys have a gym?" He examines me for a moment, I'm not entirely sure why, but he eventually nods his head.
"How long have you been working here again?"
"Month and ten days." I say looking at the calendar on my computer
"Seems longer." He shrugs.
"Also, I'm keeping the boxers." This surprises Brandon based on the expression he gives me. "They still smell like your cock and if you're going to keep making me sniff your rank ass, then I deserve something." I turn my attention away from Brandon and back to my computer. I've never really been a brazen person, but I'm feeling confident today. "Now if you don't need anything, I have work I need to get to."
He narrows his eyes at me. "Your obsessed with me aren't you." This takes me aback and I have to give him my attention again.
"Obsessed seems a bit much." I narrow my eyes back at him. "However, if you want to go there, you seem a bit obsessed with me." That was the wrong thing to say. His whole body shifts and he looks angry.
"Know your place, faggot." He gives me a pointed look before opening my office door. "And I better have my underwear back tomorrow."
"We'll see."
March 20 -
I'm a pussy, everyone knows it, you don't have to remind me. I arrive to the Police Department, grey boxers in my messenger bag, and I navigate the basement trying to find the gym. It doesn't take long, it's behind a door I've never been through before. When I walk in, Officer Sullivan and Officer Hanford are using the equipment, but they don't pay attention to me as I walk through to the marked locker rooms.
I arrive at Brandon's marked locker and open it. Waiting for me, is the pair of cobalt blue boxers from our first interaction with a sticky note on it. "I'm not obsessed with you. But you're obsessed with me." This is clearly a test of whether or not I take the boxers. Right?
Look I can admit this game we're playing is kind of fucked. But I'm single and may be a little lonely. And sure, I'm into guys who are a bit of an asshole. All this to say is that I took the fucking boxers and put his grey ones back. Maybe I'm fucked?
I took an inhale of the blue boxers and fucking hell these were rank. Eye watering and dick straining rank. Like he hasn't washed these in a couple of days rank. Oh shit, has he been marinating these. For me? I took another inhale and I may have licked the crotch of his underwear.
There was a clearing of a throat behind me and I see Officer Hanford staring. "Did you just steal that from Sgt. Vanover's locker?"
"No! I mean, not steal, I-uh-um."
"And did you just lick them?" He asks, disgusted.
"No. Absolutely not!" I panic. "If you will excuse me." I say as I push past him. He doesn't stop me, but I feel him staring as I rush out of the locker room.
I go from the locker room, straight to Sgt. Vanover's office. Another officer is in there when I walk in. I don't know if it's the expression I'm wearing or what, but Brandon takes one look at me and looks at Officer whatever his name is and says "Justin, we're going to have to cut this short. I have a meeting with IT."
Officer Justin says something as he leaves and closes the door behind him.
"I fucked up." I immediately start pacing his office. "I fucked up." I say again.
"Alright, calm down and sit down." I park myself in the chair and start fidgeting. "What did you do?"
"I returned your underwear."
"Knew you would."
"Fucking shut up for a second!" I snap, shocking both of us. "I found the blue boxers and I may have been sniffing them-" Brandon laughs.
"Let me guess." He interjects before I can continue. "You got caught faggin' out on my boxers."
"I wouldn't call it that, but yes." There's that fucking shit-eating grin again. "I'm going to get fired! This is serious!"
"You're not going to get fired."
"But what about Officer Hanford, he's going to tell the other Officers."
"What, that you're a fag and you did fag things?"
"Dude! Take this seriously. This can affect you too, it was your underwear!"
"Nah, it won't." He says flippantly. "I work out every morning and my workout clothes stay in my locker. So it just looks like you, fagged out."
We sit there in silence for a long time. "Fuck you Brandon." I eventually say, taking his blue boxers out of my bag and throwing them at him. He catches them without a flinch.
"Are you done? You really are acting like a fag." I swear he's doing this just to piss me the fuck off. I give him the finger, and storm out of his office to head back to mine.
I sit in my office for most of the day contemplating everything I can do to try and make sure this doesn't get out. Eventually, the realization that I'll need to approach Officer Hanford about what he saw hits me. And it's not going to be an easy conversation. How do I even start it. Hey, so I know you think you saw me licking Bran-Sgt. Vanover's underwear, but that was not what happened.
It hits about 14:00ish when I walk over to the Police Department for shift change. Officer Hanford has already changed out of his uniform when I see him.
"Officer Hanford!" He turns his attention to me with curiosity.
"Yes?" He doesn't seem that interested.
"About this morning." I begin.
"Sarge already explained to us." This takes me aback
"Explained what?"
"That you have a crush on him and that you can't help yourself." My mouth drops. "You need to work on yourself, this is a work environment." I cringe at his words, but he's right at the core of it.
"Cool." I say totally not feeling cool. "Have a nice weekend." I say as I turn back and storm towards Brandon's office again. This time though he's not there so I can give him a piece of my mind. I grab a sticky note off his desk, write fuck you, and leave.
March 21 -
Saturday, my first day of rest after the hell of this week. It's not even 9:00 AM and I hear my doorbell ring and then pounding on the door. I stare at the ceiling as I hear another round of pounding. It has to be Brandon, he's the only person who shows up at my door unannounced. I wonder if he even has my phone number.
I get out of bed, still in my PJs and tank top, and open the door. Brandon is there of course, though he's in uniform this time. "You ever heard of calling?" I block the entryway of door so he can't get in.
"Why would I do that?" He pushes me aside as he walks inside. He doesn't wait for me to follow as he plops down on the couch. "Got plans?"
"Even if I did, would you let me get to them?" I cross my arms.
"Of course, I'm not an asshole."
"Man, you're like the biggest asshole." I say after closing my door.
"That's not true. I come over here and spoil you rotten." He man spreads on my couch and I sit in the chair across from him. It takes everything in my power not to look at his crotch, but I power on.
"Spoil me? You torture me for like an hour and poof you're gone. You don't even let me suck you off, and I know for a fact I'm good at head." Brandon half-laughs.
"Don't pretend you don't like this." He points to himself. "I've caught you staring, a million times. And you know what, you should stare." He stands up from my sofa and he starts to take his uniform off. His hand goes to his supply belt and he unclips it. "I'm a god among men. I know it, you know it." He pulls his shirt off and drops it to the floor. His undershirt is tightly hugging his muscular body. "Do yourself a favor and get with the fucking program. This isn't about you." He pulls his shirt off, letting me admire his shirtless body.
He saunters up to me, takes my right hand and puts it on his muscular torso. "I'm with the program." I have no fucking backbone. "I'm so with the program." I say again as I run my hand over his torso. I look up and he's giving me that fucking smirk that makes my heart skip a beat.
"Good boy." His hand runs through my hair. "Now how about you do yourself a favor and take those ugly pants off."
"Uhm." I look down at my Scooby-Doo PJs. "I don't have anything on underneath this."
"I don't really care." I nod and yank the PJs off with one hand almost falling over. "Eager faggot." I ignore him as I get down on my knees without him asking.
"Now what sir?" I ask as I look up to his towering form.
"Now's your punishment for your behavior this week." He gets his crotch extremely close to my face but doesn't actually touch. "You've been really annoying this week. I expect better from you faggot."
"I'm sorry sir." I don't even know why I say it, but I do. But submitting to him is making my dick stir so I keep listening.
"You will be. There will be no mercy today." I resign myself to my fate.
"I understand."
"Good." He turns around so that his clothed ass was in my face. "You're going to worship my ass. You're not going to complain that it's too much. You're going to love every minute of worshiping me. If you do all of that, I will let you eat my cum."
"Yes sir." I agree to the terms.
"Then what are you waiting for?" I stare at his ass through the uniform pants. I'm unsure what to do, so I go ahead and run my nose along his uniformed crack.
PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
A mostly silent fart, hits my nose and I inhale it without being asked. "Fuck, that one sucked. Hold on." He grabs the back of my head and pulls me against his ass as he pushes his ass against my face.
Again I inhale as he lets out the noisy bomb. The stench is his usual terrible eggy and rotten vegetable smell and the smell burns as it makes its way to my lungs. I whine, but not thinking that's enough of the worship that Brandon deserves, I run my tongue along his uniformed ass. "Well well well, who's the eager fag today?" I grunt in annoyance, but keep licking when Brandon secures his grip forcing me to stay in place. With my tongue out, he lets another monster rip.
I keep tonguing at his pants and eventually he lets go of his grip on me. I take the moment to catch my breath and admire Brandon's large ass. I've absolutely soaked the back end of his uniform pants with my saliva. Before Brandon makes another move, I place my face back against his ass. "Good boy, didn't even have to tell you."
"Sir, I need more." Who the fuck said that, because that couldn't have been me, could it?
Brandon snickers at me. "Yeah, you want this nasty ass faggot?" He grips both of his ass cheeks and gives them a playful shake.
"Yes sir, I need to worship your ass." I can't stop myself, my fingers wrap around his belt line and I begin unclipping the offending item. I need his ass, NOW. For his part, Brandon doesn't stop me, and I get his belt unhooked and then my hands are unbuttoning his pants.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
It doesn't hit me directly, but I pull his uniform pants down to his knees. He's wearing those cobalt blue boxers again, and I smash my face against his ass. I take a large inhale of his musk and what remained of the last fart just in time for another to hit me.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
"Fuck yes faggot. Breathe those butt bombs in!" His grip is back, but it's not necessary. I have my arms wrapped around his waist and my face pressed against his ass on my volition.
"Yes sir! I can take it." I say, for my benefit as I don't know where this confidence is coming from.
"Fuck!" I yell as I struggle to keep up with the torturous farts. "Sir, they burn so bad." I keep inhaling anyways.
"Good!" He counters as a silent hissing fart releases from ass for 10ish seconds. The stench was horrid and I physically recoil to gag and cough, but Brandon's hand isn't too far off, pulling me back against his ass.
PFFFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT
"You know, I don't know why I bless you with these godly farts." He roughly uses my hair to drag my nose up and down his crack.
"Fags don't deserve my attention. Especially ones like you that don't what they're told."
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
Barrage after barrage is burned into my nose as I inhale every bomb that his ass gives me. I don't have much of a choice with the grip that Brandon has on me. "I'm sorry, I'll do better." I try.
"Shut up, the only thing I should be hearing is you sniffing my ass like the pig faggot you are."
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT
It's getting really difficult to breathe now, and Brandon hasn't given me a second to catch a real breath of air. I'm about to voice that concern, but I really don't want to piss him off. Instead I reach around and take a hold of his bulge at the same time as I take a large inhale of ass.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
I take the fact that he doesn't remove my hand as a good sign as I slowly stroke his thick dong as I sniff the noxious fumes. I swear I can feel my brain cells getting fried or maybe that's the lack of air. I feel hot and I can't stop shaking.
"Ah fuuck." Brandon sighs in relief as I struggle to keep up. "Alright, scene change." He lets go of my hair (finally) and I pull away from his massive ass. As soon as I'm away, I'm on all fours taking deep breaths of the fresh air. "Awww, faggot having a hard time breathe?" He goads.
I recompose myself and get back on my knees. "It's an honor to breathe in your manly farts." A complete and bullshit lie. Even the lingering scent of all the farts he just put me through is burning my eyes and nose.
"Correct. You're welcome." Brandon says casually as he helps me get back on my feet. I'm not standing long when he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
"Whoa-wait let me down!" I say as he carries me further into my apartment. The guy is lifting me like I weigh nothing!
"No. We're just getting started." He states matter of factly as he carries me to my bedroom, where he throws me down onto my bed causing me to let out an oof. I sit up on my elbows and watch as he closes the door and locks it. It was at this moment I remembered my bottom half is naked and I'm sporting a generous hard on. "Down." He points back to the bed and I drop so I'm laying fully down.
I don't get to see the full movement, but after a few moments of adjusting, Brandon's boxer clad ass is lowering down on my face. I realize that the moment his ass fully sits on my face, that I'll be at his mercy again. I know I've been playing someone who is enjoying this, but this is still disgusting as fuck.
As soon as his ass engulfs my face, it's back to business.
He grinds his ass against my face, almost as insult to injury. I do my best to inhale the gas, it honestly feels like I'm frying my braincells the more and more I'm trapped in his ass. I make loud huffing sounds, for Brandon's benefit, and he keeps gracing me with his raunchy farts.
"Stop!!!" I yell, and to my surprise Brandon lifts up. I take the two seconds he gives me to take a large inhale and then he slams his weight back down onto my face.
"The only thing I should be hearing is your nose breathing me in." I manage to hold back the whimper in the back of my throat. I'm pretty sure I'm at my limit of what I can take, but that doesn't mean anything to Brandon.
Brandon gives a sigh of relief as he lifts up again. "Breathe." He says as he starts pulling his underwear off.
"Brandon, please don't make me do that." I use the time wisely to try and catch my breath, but the impending doom of having his bare ass on my face is making me shake. It's a wonderful ass, manly and hairy.
"See you say shit like that." The boxers are on the floor now. "But you're gonna take it. I'm going to make sure you do, and you're going to enjoy it. Lay back down." I follow orders. I watch as his ass slowly descends back down onto my face, then he slams down at the last second.
The action makes me lose all the remaining air in my lungs and I'm immediately greeted with his hole pressed against my nose.
"Holy shit." Brandon says to himself as the 10 second fart is forced down my nose. "Fuck, that was amazing. But you know what would be better?" He's grinding his ass on my face again and it's so much worse than before.
"Underwear?" I answer even though I know he won't understand me while I'm muffled under his ass.
"Correct! Your tongue on my hole." That whine I don't catch. He laughs, but I know I need to do as he says or this is somehow going to get worse.
"Get your fucking tongue out faggot." I relent and run my tongue up his crack over his hole. "Good boy." He teases.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
Fuck I hate this so fucking much. The taste is revolting, and my body actively fights against him without my say so. I start kicking and flailing but he grabs my hips and holds me down. "Uh-uh, fag, you're not getting out."
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT
I should've closed my mouth, but I was too slow. His ass has me completely at his mercy and there's none to be had it seems.
"Fuck, you getting these fag?" He's panting hard as those bombs hit my face.
I don't respond, because obviously I'm getting them. It's all I can smell and taste. It's not like I can be getting anything else in this situation. He destroys my throat, nose, tongue, and brain all with his ass.
"Can't-" My jaw is feeling weak and I'm losing function of my tongue.
Until I feel myself jolt awake. "There he is." I look up and Brandon is towering over me. He's fully dressed again and his smug grin is plastered on his face. "Gotta go faggot. Leaving you these, don't miss me too much." He drops his blue boxers on my face.
"I hate you." I grab the boxers, pull them to my nose, and grab my cock. I can feel the judgement in his laugh but I don't care. I'm getting something out of this fucked up... situationship?
"You're really good at showing it." He doesn't stay, just closes my bedroom door and shortly after I hear the front door open and close.
Everything smells awful. Or maybe it's just me? But I get through it by huffing on the crotch of the boxers until I cum. Multiple long showers are calling my name.
March 23 -
While sitting here in my office, I swear I can still smell him...
Hearing that officer Vanover is fanfic about a real officer you work with, just imagine if he found out what you were writing about him and decided to make your dirty fantasies a reality. You might get more than you bargained for 😈
It's honestly already started being an issue LOL. But nah me and Officer "Vanover" are chill, but I dont doubt he has a dark side.
What really sparked this was when I was working in the Patrol Room he just ripped hella ass and the other guys were like "Brandon, get your shit together." And idk he has this smile, that is just, slightly sinister, and it gets me every time.
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I have such a crush on Officer Vanover. Hope next time he comes over his fart sniffers house, with his nasty swamp ass musky crack, he makes the little fart slut beg for farts. The little fart face better make it believable too. Officer Vanover deserves a bitch who begs and respects his disgusting farts
Dude, I totally get it. This story is just fanfiction about a police officer I do IT for lmfao. I'm about halfway through part 3 and have the outline done for part 4.
We're gonna have a lot of fun with Officer Vanover :P
