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When I knocked on his door a large built man opened it and welcomed me warmly. I knew he was an experienced weight lifter and that he said he just needed me to "assist", but I was still surpised how built he was.

He walked me out back to his home gym and started to get the weights and bench set up. At first I spent my time just helping with form and spitting his lifts. We got to talking, he was friendly to talk to so I figured he wouldn't mind me asking about his city wide gym ban.

"Oh that, it's silly really" he said while bicep curling a weight. Setting the weight down as he caught his breath. "You see, I run hot, and sweat builds up on me something awful. People complained about the state I left the benches, despite how much I wiped them down. Then they said the smell from me was too much. Once there was a ring of empty benches around me as people couldnt get a closer".

He laughed to himself at the memory of that. A ring of stink keeping people at bay.

"I'm sorry to hear that, so they banned you for B.O.?"

"Oh no, not that". He went back to to his final set of curls, expanding more with each rep. "I came up with a solution. I hired a PT. One with few clients, in desperate need of my bookings, like yourself".

He smiled, as if he hadn't just insulted me. It was technically true, I'd been struggling to build up my client list since I didn't look like the other huge roided PTs online. I didn't get chance to defend myself before he carried on.

"Their job was to assist me. When I felt my sweat building they were to clean me off. They would lick the ass print off the bench when I was done. Suck the sweat from my hairy pits. Most important, they would wash out my swamp out ass with their tongue. As great as that was for me and allowed me to get on with my workout in comfort, people complained. I moved from gym to gym until in the end I just had to set up my own"

Shocked I just watched in silence as he finished the last of the curls, and dropped the weight.

"But, just because I now don't have to worry about my stink bothering other people doesn't mean I don't deserve to treat myself".

With that he dropped his shorts, kicking them off. Straddling the bench face down with his ass exposed to me through his jock.

"So, if you wouldn't mind assisting me, for the first time this session. Make sure you get right up there or my ass is going to chafe and be sore all week. Sorry about the taste, apparently it's not the nicest cake back there. Hurry up, I want to get on to squats next"

I stared at the hairy hole soaked in sweat, puckering at me, inviting me in. I quickly mentally calculated the amount I had in the bank and how many of my bills were left to pay this month, and resigned myself to the job.

Kneeling down, spreading his ass cheeks, I was immediately hit by the smell. The B.O. was strong, I could see why people complained. As I began to lick he lay there, giggling.

It's unfortunate for me then that my brother, on his way out the door on his first match on his college football team, decided to fart in my face. He went on to score 3 goals, easily winning the game for his team.

I tried to convince him it was the underwear he'd put on. Or perhaps the breakfast he'd had. Or a song he'd listened to that morning. But he was adamant it was farting in my face.

Now on the way out the door before every game he straddles my face. Readies up all the gas he can muster as my nose presses against his hole, and releases a fart. To the cheering of our parents as they wish him luck.

To make it worse for me he had wanted to cover all the bases so took on board my suggestions. He is still wearing the same pair of unwashed boxers he wore that day, the stale smell of sweat and shit wafts through his shorts and up my nose as he holds me in place. And he makes sure to have the same fry up; which means I get the fart brewed by greasy meat and baked beans each time.

On the first night after dinner he came in to my room to tell me that meal was on him, but from then on I would have to be his ass rag. He got hot on trips, the build up of sweat and walking would cause him such discomfort. That's where I came in, my job was too lap at his hole to freshen him up. He figured between 3 meals a day and activities that should keep him from chaffing for the week.

I'd begged for anything else, he just reminded me of our deal. The first day I had starved myself. Declined any offer of food or drink, stood on the sidelines of all activities. By the second day I was so hungry, that night I knocked on my dad's door and asked him to forgive me for going back on my word. He was as forgiving as always and took me back to my room so I could make it up to him. Considering I'd not done my job his cheeks and thighs had rubbed him a little raw and my tongue would be his balm for the next half hour. I could tell he was a still a little annoyed at me, because he let a fart on my tongue and his apology didn't seem too sincere. He didn't actually apologise for the next three.

The Fart Room

When your gym crush invited you to a party he was throwing that evening you were ecstatic. You weren't even able toplay it cool, instead eagerly accepting.

He smiled at your enthusiasm and told you to be there for 19:00, and gave you his address.

Not only were you going to get to spend time with the guy you would secretly check out, but he said it was going to be attended by other guys from the gym so you figured it'd be a good chance to befriend them. Maybe get some tips on how they got in such greatshape.

*

You rocked up on time, you thought of being fashionably late after seeming too eager earlier. Butdidn't want to risk looking rude,

He opened the door with a smile when he saw itwas you

"Great you're here, come on in"

You entered his home, trying to make friendlyconversation as you kicked off your shoes. Listeningout you couldn't hear any music or any chatter.

"Am I the first to arrive?" It'd be a bit awkward, but at least you could meet each person as they came.

"Yeh, needed to get you in position before myguests arrived".

You paused, confused. "I'm sorry, what do you mean get me in position...and you mean 'other'guests?""

"What? No, mate. This is for my mates at the gym, you know, real builders. Not little guys like you. I mean other than you perving on me we have like no interaction. I invited you here to do us a service."

The amount of revelation stunned you. The admission he knew you oggled him, on top of the insults.

"What service?"

"Here let me show you".

He opened the door to a cupboard under the stairs,and gestured for you to take a look. Leaning in you could see that inside was a large cut out space. Big enough to stand on the end nearest the door, and on the other end, space to sit/kneel. What was more concerning was on the low end there was what looked to be a collar chained to the wall.

It was at this moment you were very aware of the muscular man stood behind you. Blocking your exit.A man you knew nothing about and willingly had entered his home.

"See we get together a lot and we learned early that when you get a lot of gym bros together there's a rather unpleasant smely issue. You know what it's like with all that protein. Wrecks havock on our guts and the farts are toxic. You can only hold them in for so long before it becomes uncomfortable. So for everyone to be able to party in comfort, but not stink out the place, we came up with a solution. The Fart Room".

Using his imposing size he started to push you into the cupboard.

We get some eager little guy from the gym, invite them round and put them in here. As the night goes on people need to use this room more and more.Y'know, the build up of protein shakes, broccoli and chicken diets and the beers at the party. They come in, let rip, and that nights recruit sniffs it all up".

By now you're fully in the room, being slowly pushed further back. You had to start crouching to avoid the ceiling.

"That's sick! Just go outside".

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at you wasting time. It's cold outside, can't keep opening doors to fart, everyone would freeze. Come the summer, we're all out there and don't want the wind blowing our wind back at us. This solution works all year round"

"Then just fart in here without a victim!" At this point your head smacked into the ceiling, the pain forcing you to drop down to your knees, where he loomed over you.

"Sorry, can't. The smell builds up and by the end we stink when we leave having marinated in it, and the gas escapes when you open the door. That's where you come in. You'll breathe it all up. It's better if you take it right from the source, to avoid it lingering. Best you do a good job from the start as well; as we get more drunk, we get a bit more aggressive with making sure we don't smell it; and will force your face in our cracks. He leaned down, reaching past you and picked up the collar.

"Sometimes people arent willing or try to escape. That's where this comes in". He held the collar to your face. "Will you need it? Or are you one of those fags that get off on this?"

"Please, l just want to go home".

"I don't care. Look, alone I can overpower you and chain you up. If you make me do that, l'l tell each guy to not go easy on you, and they 'll be rough. We're talking aggressively roided up blokes only too happy to let off some steam. Once the lock goes on you'll be at their mercy. So I would suggest you choose this". With that he unbuckled the collar and without protest put it tight around your neck.

"That's a good little fart filter. Now let's practice before the party starts".

He stands up, turns around, and lowers his shorts revealing his large muscular cheeks. Immediately you're hit with a sour pungent smell. Clearly if he did shower after the gym that day, he skipped cleaning his ass. Gently pivoting his hips his ass jutted out, inches from your face. Inviting you to come closer. You leaned in and as you felt his warm skin you were hit by the first fart.

BBBBBMMMMFFFF

It was quick, but loud and deep. The smell was as bad as he'd warned. You could smell the veggies he'd been eating. The surprise and stink made you instinctively pull away. Causing you to hit your head again in the tight space you were crouched in.

"Best get used to it, or if you keep flinching like that you'll leave here with brain damage. Though then again, maybe wouldn't be a bad thing, hit your head enough maybe you'll get amnesia and this can become a permanent set up. Would faggy like that?" He laughed as he wriggled his ass in front of you.

You didn't answer, so to fill the silence he let out a long rip.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPPP

"Sniff that up, quickly, I'm get a hint of it up here"

To avoid any repercussions you leant back forward and sniffed the air vigorously. Reaching as far as the tight chain would allow you to reach, the collar strangling you for the effort.

"That's better, I think you get your job. Oh, and you may have wondered about the towel hanging here.  Well, sometimes the farts get a bit. ..wet. We try not to judge each other, these supplements can do sll sorts to your body. So if a guy sharts a bit, just wait until he's finished and when he's gone wipe your face ready for the next visitor"

As if knowing you were about to try one more time to object and plead to be released, he let out a final fart into your open mouth. As you coughed and spluttered, trying not to focus on the taste on your tongue, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, here we go! See you later Sniffer!"

It's unfortunate for me then that my brother, on his way out the door on his first match on his college football team, decided to fart in my face. He went on to score 3 goals, easily winning the game for his team.

I tried to convince him it was the underwear he'd put on. Or perhaps the breakfast he'd had. Or a song he'd listened to that morning. But he was adamant it was farting in my face.

Now on the way out the door before every game he straddles my face. Readies up all the gas he can muster as my nose presses against his hole, and releases a fart. To the cheering of our parents as they wish him luck.

To make it worse for me he had wanted to cover all the bases so took on board my suggestions. He is still wearing the same pair of unwashed boxers he wore that day, the stale smell of sweat and shit wafts through his shorts and up my nose as he holds me in place. And he makes sure to have the same fry up; which means I get the fart brewed by greasy meat and baked beans each time.

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(Full video on Ko-fi store or Banging Belly tier of Patreon)

Dirty Desires: Open Sesame

For yet another weekend in a row, you were about to make out with your uncles hairy swamp ass in order to join in on boys' night. "Remember, boy, tongue deep!" He instructs firmly just like always. You approach his spread cheeks and can smell the rank odor of a sweaty summer time gym crack before getting within 2 feet of it. This has taken place since October, but now, in the summer months you really got challenged as his ass was unbearable. Sometimes, you'd contemplate standing up to him, telling your dad or even your older brothers. However, you weren't sure if he'd punish you with an even more cruel method if you did.

Dom Quotes Season 3: Major Bombardment! Re-upload

"Hey, don't cry to me boy, you are the one who wanted to smell my post Mexican takeout farts. Dry those tears... Actually, better yet, stick that puny little face of yours back into this trench and let my farts dry them up. Fuck....that's a big far....oh and anot....damn a third! Ahh nothing like farting with the sewage smell being taken by another 'man'. Do I hear more crying? Fuck sake you knew my nickname is Majorbombs so what did you expect? Shut up and let the rest of my time with your nose be peaceful...for me atleast. Some Major bombardment coming up sniffer!"

*Original Image got flagged 6 times lmao*