#fart sniffing
WARNING: This story is mostly fictional and includes face sitting, farts, feet, body odor, and sexual subjects. If you are under the age of 18, or this does not interest you, please read no further.
I woke up and looked at Colin. He was still asleep, buck naked and snoring with his mouth wide open. It was his birthday, so I guess I would let him sleep. I put a hand on his belly and rested my head on his chest. He mumbled incoherently in his slumber, then he let out a big snore followed by a fart. It was long and loud, and the sewer-like smell filled the air around us.
I took my hand off his belly and rolled over, trying to escape the odor. By now, I should’ve known that it wouldn’t do any good. I fell asleep again, only waking up when I felt arms around me.
I glanced to the side and saw Colin resting his chin on my shoulder. “Good morning.”
“Damn. You need a breath mint,” I said.
In true Colin fashion, the chubby man breathed right at my face. I scrunched up my nose at his terrible morning breath, and he laughed.
Colin moved so that his morning wood was poking me in the back. He had one leg draped over both of mine, that foot resting against my shin. “You know what day it is?”
“Your birthday,” I said. I’d actually almost forgotten.
“Yep,” he said excitedly. Colin brushed his foot up my shin then suddenly sat up. He stretched his legs out in front of him, putting his feet in my face. They hadn’t been washed in eleven days, so they smelled horrible! I pulled my face away, pushing the feet at the same time. Colin grinned. “No. You’re gonna do whatever I want today.”
I sighed. “Why do I let you do this?”
“Because I fuck you right,” Colin answered. He put his feet in my face again, and I began massaging them. He smiled throughout the massage, then he said, “Kiss ‘em.”
I groaned but kissed the callused soles of his feet all the same. Colin stood up and stretched. I stood up and put my hands on his belly. He smirked and lifted his arms. His hairy armpits glittered with sweat. “How do they smell?”
I brought my nose to the first. It was very wet. I coughed at the smell, pulling my head back. “Damn!”
Colin chuckled, proud of himself. He sat his sweaty ass on the edge of my bed, his dick rising without him touching it. “Could you help me out here?”
I smiled and kneeled on the floor in front of him. I took his cock into my mouth. Halfway through, a thick fart cloud appeared from nowhere. Colin laughed. “Yeah, I farted. Keep going.”
I picked up the pace so I wouldn’t have to be this close to his fart anymore. Finally, Colin came, and I swallowed. I wiped my mouth and coughed as I stood up. “That was evil.”
“Really?” asked Colin. He grinned. “I thought it was fun.”
Colin had to go visit his mom, so I waited around, watching TV. It was insane how much my life had changed. I’d hated Colin and his grossness, but now I didn’t know what to do when he wasn’t here. I was bored without him, and I didn’t like it. How could I possibly like a guy so much when he smelled so terrible and farted so often and so pungently? It was baffling.
I fell asleep watching a movie on Netflix, and I woke up to something heavy on my chest. I opened my eyes and saw that Colin was sitting on my chest. He grinned at me. “I’m back! Let’s go.”
He stood up, and then so did I, looking at the time. It was nearly five in the evening. I looked at Colin. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner with my brother,” said Colin. I didn’t even know he had a brother. “He’s meeting us there.”
“Okay,” I said. “Won’t he be a little suspicious?”
“No. I told him Matt’s working so he can’t come,” said Colin. He turned his back to me. There was a hole in the back of his shirt near the bottom. A gross, bubbly fart sounded from his ass, and he sighed as he turned back around, wafting the smell toward me. It was stronger than usual. I backed up, making a face of disgust. “You like that? I ate some stew at my mom’s house.”
“Oh God,” I said.
Colin smiled proudly. He left my room, and I followed him out. I could smell it as he silently farted while walking downstairs. He looked over his shoulder at me, laughing. I shook my head. “Damn. If you’re already this bad, how bad are you gonna be after dinner?”
“Well, wings and beer have always been a magical combination for me.” Colin continued laughing as we walked out to his truck. We got in, and he started the engine. He played with his beard as he drove, letting out more terrible gas that I was forced to smell.
We reached the wing place and got out of his truck. Colin looked around, then someone behind us said his name. The guy who must’ve been Colin’s brother looked just like him, except he was a little thinner and had shorter hair and green eyes rather than Colin’s ocean blue. He was wearing a backwards flat-billed hat, a black cutoff t-shirt, and silver gym shorts with red and white Jordans. He looked a lot cleaner than Colin.
Colin’s brother gave him a bro-hug. “Hey. What’s up, bro? Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks, man” said Colin. “This is Darren, Matt’s stepbrother. Darren, this is my little brother Ray.”
“Hi,” I said. I had to act cool. Couldn’t make Ray suspicious of anything.
We went inside, and the two of them ordered beers. I ordered a sweet tea. I watched as the brothers put down beer after beer, as well as a ridiculous amount of wings. While eating, Ray was definitely as gross as Colin.
We finished, Ray paid, and then we left. We stood outside, and Colin asked, “Hey, do you wanna come back to the house? Play some games maybe?”
“Sure?” said Ray, flicking ashes off his cigarette. He cocked his hips to the side and let out a fart that sounded just like one that would come from Colin. It smelled the same, too, only greatly magnified. Ray and Colin laughed at my expression.
We headed off to the house, and when we got there, we went down to Colin’s room in the basement. He immediately took off his shirt and his shoes. His body and foot odor filled the space, but Ray didn’t seem to notice. Ray then took off his own shoes, and I learned that smelly feet was apparently a family trait. Ray took off his socks and pushed them into his shoes.
The brothers both lay on their stomachs on Colin’s mattress. I sat behind them. Ray looked back. “Dude, not a good place to sit.”
Colin released four loud, short farts in a row. “He’s used to it. He lives with me.”
The smell that eminated from Colin’s ass was unreal. It was like swimming through pure sewage and suddenly being sprayed by a skunk. I got up and moved from my spot, instead sitting on a chair beside Colin. Ray laughed. “Doesn’t seem like he’s used to it.”
“That’s the worst fart I’ve ever smelled,” I said, my stomach turning from the lingering stench. “From you or anyone else.”
“And it’s only gonna get worse.” Colin closed one eye and ripped an explosion of a fart, then smiled and sighed.
“Holy shit!” said Ray, beginning to laugh hysterically. “Oh, hold on. Hold on…”
Ray cranked out a fart of his own, a deep, wet one. He and Colin laughed. Ray looked at me. “Whose are worse?”
I felt sick. “I don’t know. It’s all mixing together.”
That only made them laugh harder. I stood up and started my way upstairs. Colin paused the game. “Where you going?”
“I’m escaping the gas chamber,” I answered.
Colin smirked. “Oh, come on. It’s my birthday, and it’s not even that bad.”
“Yeah. C'mon, Darren,” said Ray. He screwed up his face in concentration, then sighed. “Damn. It was silent.”
The smell only got worse. I started up the steps once more. I stopped when I heard Colin say my name in his deep voice. I turned. “What?”
“If you don’t stay, I’ll do what you don’t want me to do,” said Colin. Obviously, he was talking about the videos. Was he being serious? It felt like a betrayal for him to even mention throwing the embarrassing videos back in my face.
But apparently he didn’t feel bad, for he just looked at me, waiting for an answer.
TO BE CONTINUED!
INCLUDES FACE SITTING AND FARTS. DON’T LIKE OR AREN’T A LEGAL ADULT?: DON’T READ!
Mom and Joe had decided to renew their vows. Since their first wedding was in a courthouse, they wanted to have a big ceremony the second time. So it was September, and everything was off to a great start. Joe’s lottery-winner best friend Mark was Joe’s best man, and I was happy to see the big guy again.
But what I was really looking forward to was meeting Joe’s two older brothers, Ryan and Sam. I was surprised it had taken this long to meet them, but I hoped they were every bit as gassy and proud of it as Joe.
Ryan and Sam arrived two days before the ceremony. Joe came home from the airport, and I heard them come up the steps. I stood up and smiled. Ryan, the eldest, looked just like Joe except he was taller, a little thinner, and completely bald. Sam didn’t look anything like the other two. He had black hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. He was the tallest of them, and also the heaviest. Ryan was dressed in a suit while Sam looked like he was on vacation, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, tan shorts, and flip-flops. As far as I could tell, Sam was the cool one.
A woman came in behind Sam. She came to stand beside Ryan and held his hand. She looked somewhat like the actress Jamie Lee Curtis. The lady must be Linda, Ryan’s wife.
“There he is!” said Joe. “This is Cathy’s son John. Johnny, this is my brother Sam, my brother Ryan, and Ryan’s wife Linda.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Sam, shaking my hand. The other two seemed a little cold. They walked over and sat on the shorter side of the wraparound couch. Sam, Joe, and I sat on the longer side.
“So, we’re going to go out to eat with Stella, Max, Ronny, Allen, Mark, and Dana when your mom gets off work. We’re meeting her there,” said Joe.
“Awesome,” I said.
Joe leaned to the side and let out a loud fart. He sighed and fanned it towards me and Sam, laughing. Sam grinned. “And so it begins! I’ve been waiting for it since I got into your Jeep.”
“I thought I’d hold off ‘til we got an audience.” Joe laughed and pointed at me.
Sam looked at me, then at Joe. “I don’t wanna kill the kid, Joey.”
Joe’s laugh grew. “That will never happen. Trust me. I’ve farted on him so many times its a wonder he ever smells good.”
Sam laughed at that. The other two were talking to each other. They seemed rather snooty so far.
I heard a long, crackling fart beside me, and I turned to look. Sam laughed, waving his smell toward me. It was skunky like Joe’s but also had a meaty sort of scent to it. I had to pretend not to like it in front of the others, so I made a face then laughed. I noticed Joe wink at me when Sam wasn’t looking.
About an hour later, we headed out to go to the restaurant. We were going to Mexican, so farts would be plentiful later. Ryan and Linda thankfully got a rental car, so it was just me, Joe, and Sam. I leaned between the two front seats. “Joe, I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s the deal with Ryan and Linda?”
“Oh. They think their shit doesn’t stink,” Joe answered. “Ryan used to be a lot cooler. He wouldn’t have even hesitated to pin you down and fart on ya, but Linda changed him. She’s terrible, and now he is, too.”
“Noted,” I said.
I heard a fart, and Sam started laughing. Joe grinned and pointed at him. “Hey. Only I can fart in my Jeep!”
“What are you gonna do about it, Bubba?” Sam taunted.
“You know I hate that nickname, dick,” said Joe. I could suddenly picture him as the little brother. I wonder if the other two ever ganged up and farted on him. Probably. It was so weird to think of the man who farted on me all the time getting farted on.
Joe lifted his ass and ripped a fart bigger and longer than Sam’s. He sighed and grinned. “Oh. That was a good one!”
The smell filled the Jeep. Sam tried his window, but of course, it didn’t move. I laughed. “Joe keeps the windows on full lockdown.”
“Dad would have done that if window locks existed when we were kids,” said Sam.
“Yeah. He would’ve,” Joe agreed. That’s when I realized Joe never talked about his family. Maybe talking about his departed parents was too painful for him. I had no way of knowing what that was like.
I was broken out of my thoughts when my nose detected another Sam fart. This one was worse than the other two, making Joe’s fart pale in comparison. Joe unlocked the windows and cracked his. Sam laughed. “I thought we were on lockdown, Joey.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Joe smiled. “Well, I’m not gonna sit in a car filled with mingling farts.”
“You’ve had worse farts than this,” I pointed out.
“That’s different. I love my farts,” said Joe. The three of us laughed as we finally pulled up to the restaurant. Joe approached the counter and told the hostess we belonged to the party of twelve. She led us to a smaller, enclosed room that was specifically used for parties. Ronny and Allen were the only two here. Ronny stood up and hugged Sam. “Hey, Uncle Sam. Allen, this is my Uncle Sam.”
“'Merica!” Allen quipped. I laughed harder than I’d intended.
Sam looked around as he sat down. “Having an enclosed room at Mexican might be a bad idea.”
“Like a gas chamber,” said Joe, winking at me.
“Oh, Linda would love that,” said Sam sarcastically.
Ryan and Linda got there agter us. Stella and Max arrived soon after with baby Joseph. Then Mom showed up, then Mark and Dana. A waiter came to get our drink orders, and then he took our food orders when he came to give us our drinks.
We all sat and ate and talked, and it was great. We decided to all go back to Joe’s house for a backyard fire. I rode back with Mom because she asked me to. We got to the house to find everyone in the back yard, Joe starting a fire.
I came to stand between Sam and Joe. Sam took a drink of his beer and laughed. “Hey, Johnny. It’s a good thing you didn’t ride back with us; we were basically having a fart contest. I won.”
Oh my god! How could I have missed that?!
“Bullshit,” said Joe, straightening up and sipping at his own beer. “I won.”
“Whatever you say, Joey,” said Sam, continuing to drink his beer. A moment later, he turned his ass in my direction and farted loudly. It smelled very strong, and I could sense the spiciness from dinner. The three of us laughed.
Ryan and Linda and Stella, Max, and baby Joseph left soon after, followed by Mark and Dana. The adults got into the beer and started throwing them back. I approached Mom. “Can I drink some?”
“You’re fifteen,” said Mom. That was a no.
“Exactly. He’s fifteen. Let him have a few,” said Joe. He got into the cooler in front of me, farting as he bent over. He sighed and smiled as he opened a beer and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For the beer?” Joe asked.
“Sure.”
I had a few beers and got buzzed. Everyone left but Sam, as he was staying with us for the time he was here.
We sat in the living room. Joe came in from the kitchen and stood in front of me, grabbing my head and farting on it. It was long and bubbly. Joe laughed as his gas filled my nostrils. “Mexican food and beer. Primo farts.”
It was a great, heavy smell. Joe let go of my head. Sam laughed. He took his shirt off, pulling his belly out of his shorts. Just as I thought, it was even bigger than Joe’s. “Damn, Joe. That’s brutal.”
I lay back on the couch. “I’m used to it.”
“Oh, really?” Sam turned and sat on my face. His fart was longer and deeper than Joe’s, and it smelled just as strong. He waited a few seconds then stood up. He looked down at me. “You okay?”
“He’s fine,” said Joe. “We should head off to bed. Sam, you’re staying in the guest room.”
“Alright,” said Sam.
Joe walked back to his bedroom, farting as he walked. Sam yawned. “It was nice to meet you. Night.”
“Goodnight.” I got up and followed him down the hall. We went into our respective rooms. I lay on my bed, and I heard a fart from the other side of the wall, the guest room.
I was really glad Sam was so cool and so much like Joe.
An Alpha’s body is a factory that supplies the citizens of “Fag Nation” with all the nourishment and necessities they need to survive and thrive. Among the many products it manufactures to keep faggots fed, for instance, are spit, sweat, piss and cum, to name but a few of its best sellers. One of the most under-appreciated and underutilized products an Alpha factory makes, however, is natural gas. To ensure this precious commodity doesn’t go to waste, i’ve responded to popular demand by assembling a list of 20 ways that Alphas can use Their gas:
- Sit on Your faggot’s face and instruct him to inhale deeply, then fart directly into his nose and/or mouth. Make sure he thanks You for the privilege of sniffing Your stink.
- Lean in close to Your faggot’s face, as if You’re about to kiss him passionately. Then … belch in his faggot face, instead.
- Order Your faggot to suck Your cock. Make sure Your cock is being deepthroated all the way to Your pubes, then rip a fart. Make sure to hold Your faggot’s head firmly in place on Your cock so he can’t escape the stink as it wafts up around him while he’s gagging on Your cock.
- If You need service and find that Your faggot is sleeping, wake him up with a belch or fart to the face; that’s what bitches deserve for sleeping when You need service.
- After a meal, burp in Your faggot’s face and make him guess what You ate. If he guesses correctly, reward him; if he guesses incorrectly, punish him.
- If You have company over, instruct Your faggot to crawl over to Your ass whenever You give him the appropriate hand signal. When You fart, he is to “swallow” it by sucking it from your ass as if he were trying to drink a thick milkshake through a straw. This will minimize the stink for Your guests. Because after all, You’re a good host.
- Burp and/or fart into a jar and seal it. Put a label on it — “Sir’s Scent,” for example, or “Fag Punishment” — and display it in Your fag’s view next time he’s serving You. If he displeases You in any way, instruct him to fetch the jar and inhale its contents.
- Invite Your buddies over for a gas-inducing meal. Blindfold Your faggot. Burp and/or fart in Your faggot’s face and make him guess which gas belongs to which Man. Reward him for correct guesses and punish him for incorrect ones.
- Need a laugh? Make Your faggot get on his knees and have a face-to-face conversation with Your ass. When it’s Your ass’s turn to speak, fart in Your faggot’s face, then translate what Your ass said. For example, if Your faggot says “Hello, Sir’s ass,” fart and say, “My ass says ‘hey,’ faggot.” It will be hilarious and humiliating at the same time.
- If You’re pissing down Your faggot’s throat, fart and/or burp as You’re doing it to reinforce the fact that Your faggot isn’t Your toilet. After all, if You were alone pissing in Your bathroom, You’d let ‘er rip, right? It shouldn’t be any different when You’re using a fag-toilet.
- Strip to Your briefs. Instruct Your faggot to insert his head through one of the leg holes so that his face is trapped inside Your ass by Your underwear. You know what to do next: suffocate the bitch with some farts.
- If Your faggot is enjoying a beverage with a straw, belch but don’t let it out. Instead, blow it through the straw into Your faggot’s drink.
- Fart onto Your faggot’s pillow, directing Your gas into the inside of the pillow case. Wish Your faggot sweet dreams of Your stink.
- Fart onto a slice of bread. Make Your faggot a sandwich. If he’s been a good boy, maybe substitute mayo for some of Your own special sauce.
- Lie on Your stomach or get on Your knees and instruct Your faggot to eat Your ass. As he’s rimming You, surprise him—without warning—with a fart. If he pulls away, be sure to tell him sternly, “Keep eating, pig!”
- Purchase a rim seat. Set it up in front of Your television. Instruct Your faggot to lie beneath it. Restrain his hands and feet so he can’t move. Turn on the game or whatever Netflix show You’re currently binge watching. Make Yourself a snack. Take a seat. Enjoy Your show and snack as if You’re alone in the room as Your fag eats Your ass. If You need to fart, fart. Pretend like the fag isn’t there. Exercises such as this strip him of his humanity and teach him to be an object in Your presence.
- Tell Your faggot You have a secret to tell him. Lean into his ear as if You’re going to whisper something. Then, belch into his ear. Tell him something like, “That’s what I think of You. Except that isn’t a secret at all, isn’t it?”
- Either at night before You go to sleep, or in the morning when You wake up, instruct Your faggot to blow You under the covers. Secure the covers tightly against the mattress, then “dutch over” the fuck out of Your faggot to remind him that You’re in control; so much so that his lungs only get oxygen at Your pleasure.
- Instruct Your faggot to finger Your hole. Fart. Make him sniff and suck his finger.
- Never say “hello” to Your faggot. Instead, establish a habit of greeting him with a belch or fart. Make sure he knows the reason why: Hellos are for human beings; pigs like him deserve a pig greeting.
This Connecticut fag is here for you Alpha Men.
