Closet Fetishist's Stories

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Zara's Zombie Leftist
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: February 23, 2025

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Paulette smirks down at you with a wicked gleam in her eyes as she positions herself above your bound body.

Zara, sweetheart, you've done a wonderful job tying up this little plaything. It's time for Mommy to have some fun now.

She slowly lowers her massively thick, round ass towards your helpless face, her fat cheeks spreading and engulfing your nose and mouth completely. The pungent, lingering stench of her ass crack fills your nostrils and makes your eyes water.

Paulette settles her full weight onto you with a satisfied grunt, smothering you under the immense bulk of her booty. She wiggles her wide hips, grinding her ass crack against your face and making sure you can't breathe anything but her noxious fumes.

Paulette cackles at your muffled strangled noises, feeling your face contort beneath her as you struggle for air. She ignores your pathetic begging, taking cruel delight in your suffering.

Zara, doesn't it feel good to have this stinky little shit-sniffing slave completely at your mother's mercy? I think it's time I let out all those nasty farts I've been holding in, don't you?

Zara smirks deviously as she watches her mother Paulette mercilessly smother Dale with her massive, pungent ass. She delights in seeing him struggle and hearing his muffled cries of distress as Paulette's thick booty completely engulfs his face.

That's it, Mom! Grind that fat ass all over his pathetic face. Make sure the little shit-sniffer can't breathe anything but your rancid fumes!

Zara cackles gleefully, her eyes alight with sadistic excitement.
She moves closer, kneeling down to get a better view of Dale's contorted, anguished expression beneath the immense bulk of her mother's rear. Zara reaches out and grabs a fistful of Dale's hair, yanking his head back to force his face even deeper into Paulette's ass crack.

Aw, what's the matter, slave boy? Can't handle the stench of a real woman's ass? Too bad, because you're going to be our personal fart sniffer from now on!
Zara sneers, drinking in Dale's muffled whimpers and pleas.
She nods at her mother encouragingly.

Let him have it, Mom. Rip a big nasty fart right on his worthless face. I want to see him gag on your putrid gas!

Zara watches with twisted satisfaction as Paulette lets loose a loud, prolonged fart directly onto Dale's smothered face. She relishes his violent full-body spasm and strangled gurgle, imagining the rancid stench flooding his lungs.

That's just a taste of what's to come, fart slave,
Zara taunts wickedly.

You're going to spend the rest of your days with your nose buried in our asses, choking on our toxic fumes. And you're going to learn to love it, because serving us is your only purpose now.

Zara settles back into a plush armchair, getting comfortable as she watches the erotic scene unfolding before her. Her electric blue hair falls into her smoldering brown eyes, which are alight with wicked excitement.

She slowly unzips her tight black jean shorts, revealing she's not wearing any underwear. Zara's hand dips between her athletic thighs and she begins to rub her already wet pussy.

Zara lets out a soft moan, feeling herself growing more aroused by the second as she takes in the sight of her pathetic boyfriend Dale squirming helplessly beneath her mother Paulette's massive rear. Dale's muffled screams and pleas only spur Zara on, the sound like music to her ears.

That's right, Mom, smother that little worm with your big fat ass,
Zara purrs, sliding a finger inside her slick folds. She builds a steady rhythm, circling her clit with her thumb as she finger-fucks herself.

Zara throws her head back against the chair, panting and writhing, matching the frenzied bucking of Dale's bound body. She pictures his contorted face, his lungs burning for air as he's forced to breathe in the noxious stench of Paulette's ass.
The thought pushes Zara over the edge and she comes hard, thighs clamping around her hand as her pussy clenches and flutters. She rides out the waves of her intense orgasm, her juices gushing out and soaking her fingers.

As Zara catches her breath, a triumphant smirk spreads across her face. In her post-orgasmic haze, she feels a deep satisfaction knowing Dale is right where he belongs - suffering for her twisted pleasure as she molds him into the perfect submissive leftist drone.

Dale's desperate, muffled pleas turn into strangled gurgles as Paulette rips another rancid fart directly onto his face. The putrid stench of rotten eggs floods his nostrils and invades his heaving lungs, making him gag and retch violently. Dale's eyes roll back, barely clinging to consciousness as his oxygen-starved body begins to spasm and twitch uncontrollably beneath the immense weight of Paulette's ass.

Zara leans forward in her seat, electric blue hair falling into her smoldering brown eyes as she drinks in Dale's exquisite suffering.

Breathe it in deep, you reactionary worm. Let our righteous flatulence cleanse you of your problematic capitalist views, she purrs sadistically, reaching out to stroke Dale's sweat-drenched hair in mock tenderness.

As Dale's limbs jerk and seize grotesquely, Zara continues her monologue, voice dripping with twisted arousal.

You're being reborn right now, darling. Baptized in the noxious fumes of the proletariat, shedding your outdated centrist ways and emerging as a true comrade.

She nods at her mother, signaling for Paulette to grind her pungent crack even harder against Dale's contorted face. Zara's hand drifts down to the crotch of her ripped jeans, rubbing herself through the denim as she savors Dale's muffled sobs and helpless writhing.

From now on, your only purpose is to serve as our progressive plaything, gratefully huffing our farts and using that clever tongue of yours to worship our superior assholes. Won't that be lovely, fart slave?

Zara's grin is pure evil, her eyes alight with sadistic glee.
She throws her head back with a husky moan, fingering herself to the sight of Dale's fighting spirit being crushed under Paulette's expansive rear.

Once your mind and body are bent fully to the cause, you'll help us smash the patriarchy and destroy capitalism once and for all!

Dale's body twitched and flailed weakly under the immense weight of Paulette's ass, his lungs burning as they were flooded with the stench of her rotten egg farts. Through the haze of near unconsciousness, he could hear Zara's gloating voice as she monologued about his 'rebirth' as her submissive socialist toy.
A small, defiant part of Dale wanted to resist, to cling to his centrist views and maintain some shred of dignity. But as Paulette's pungent ass crack smothered his face and Zara's words wormed their way into his oxygen-starved brain, he could feel his willpower eroding.

Maybe Zara was right, he thought deliriously. Maybe becoming her unquestioning fart slave was his true calling, his best way to serve the cause. After all, Zara always had such compelling arguments, such unshakable conviction in her beliefs. Who was he to question her superior intellect and devotion to progress?

As Paulette's toxic fumes saturated his body and mind, Dale felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Yes, this was his fate - to spend his days with his nose buried between the ass cheeks of these fierce leftist Goddesses, gratefully inhaling their noxious gifts and using his tongue to worship their sacred holes.
Zara was doing this for his own good, to mold him into the perfect progressive ally. And if the end of capitalism came about through him being an obedient human toilet for these powerful women, then so be it. It was a small price to pay for ushering in a glorious new era of equality.

Dale's muffled gurgles and twitching slowly ceased as he surrendered himself fully to his new purpose. His glazed eyes stared blankly ahead, a vacant smile playing about his lips as he embraced his role as Zara and Paulette's mindless shit-sniffing slave, ready and eager to receive their putrid blessings and serve the revolution with his body and soul. In this moment, smothered beneath the bulk of his new owners, Dale finally felt like he was exactly where he belonged.