I stifled my laughter as he lugged my stuff across the room, carefully placing them where I requested. He struggled with their weight, exhaling deeply each time he placed down a large box on the floor. I coldly directed him from a sedentary position on the sofa, relaxing, leaving him to sort out my stuff without aid.

“It's nice to know I have such an helpful neighbour”, was the only praise I gave him. He smiled awkwardly before going to grab another box. At this rate, I'll be able to get him to finish up the rest of the jobs.

I had only met him yesterday, and already he was spending his free time helping me move. I use the word “helping” loosely, considering I'm mainly sat on the sofa whilst he does all the work. He doesn't seem to question this, probably because, as I first noticed, he's a huge coward who is afraid of confronting others. I was being quite direct with him, my thankless attitude bordering on rudeness.

It's a power I've always had. Sniffing out weakness, using quick deductions to determine who I can use and to what level. I've never done anything too bad with this power, I'm not really ambitious anyway so I've not had much use for it, but it was always a relief to know I could navigate my difficulties with people quite well, burdening others for my own gain. So, when I moved the first boxes to my new flat and saw him quietly exiting his door, next to where mine was, it only took a few seconds for me to determine that he was one of those weak people that I could easily intimidate and control. I was just going to say hello and leave it at that, but then I remembered all the hard work moving boxes can be, so, hiding a smirk, I approached him with a purpose in mind. A purpose which I knew would grow into something more degrading, as I wanted to control somebody in ways I never have done before, to satisfy deep fantasies that I had never before revealed to somebody.

Now that I saw how much work I could give him whilst I sat my lazy butt on the sofa, playing with my phone as he huffed and heaved with the effort of moving my stuff, I came to realize that I finally found somebody to enact my fantasy with. I had used people in small ways throughout my life, but never had somebody been so easy and so pathetic as to kiss my ass so quickly. I had barely needed to do anything, a quick smile, give him a little attention, and he was all mine. I decided that I would take this as far as I could, having a little chore slave would be nice, but there's much darker things I could make him do.

“Hey, careful with that, it has delicates in”, I scowled as he picked up one of the boxes a little faster than I liked. He was helpful, but he needed whipping into shape if he was going to serve me as I wished him to.

“Sorry”, he muttered carefully moving it out of the room and into the hallway. I see him strain his back as he slowly lowered the box. I laughed, knowing full well that nothing in that box was delicate, it was all junk. I was already toying and fucking with his health and safety, making him strain his back with unnecessary weight.

The coffee he had made me began to gurgle in my stomach as he picked up another box. I felt the brewing gasses churn in my belly soon after, coincidentally coinciding with my internal planning in how to achieve his fate. Soon I would need to cut a huge fart. I was going to release it when he wasn't in the room but then something clicked and deny the smell was mine when he came in, but with how pathetic he was, perhaps I could speed up the process of his conversion a little a be a bit more abrupt.

When he was back in, I offered him a break. I sat next to him as he quietly responded to my aimless small talk. I really wasn't paying attention to the awkward flow of the conversation, I just tried to convey my thoughts of him with the apathetic boredom in my voice: I didn't care or respect him, I wasn't his friend, and he was there to entertain me. I think I did a good job at remaining noticeably uninterested with his contributions to the conversation. I interrupted him, yawned as he spoke, looked away and sighed as he stuttered and gulped his way through the conversation. It was all on purpose, I wanted to show him subtly that he wasn't here because I was friendly or liked him, he was here to do something for me, and that's it. Like a dog, I was placing down expectations to warp his behaviour around me to be more submissive.

All during this I was building up the gas in my gut, ready for release. I shuffled my hips a little closer to him occasionally, but with my upper body leaning away, as if I was rejecting him through my body language. I wanted him to think I didn't give a shit about him, I wanted him to subconsciously learn who was going to be running the show around here, regardless of his wishes. This was a perfect time to let out my true lack of care towards his comfort, and as I pressed my bottom slightly out in his direction, all I had to do was push.

It came quicker than I thought. A heavy, bubbling fart which blurted out of my ass with a comic rip. I closed my eyes, exhaled deeply, and giggled, “that's better.”

He looked away and smiled, but in a way that was fake and awkward, “don't worry about it. Accidents happen.”

“Oh no”, I say, beginning to waft the air towards him with a dismissive wave, “it wasn't an accident. I never hold them in, they can hurt your belly. Anyway, take a whiff of that. That's what your coffee did to me.”

The smell already coiled around my area. It was a strong, cheesy stink, a smell that I enjoyed but one that was otherwise particularly vile. I saw his face transform as the smell hit him. His awkward, gaze avoiding grimace quickly warped into one of disgust. I could tell that he was trying not to show this, as not to appear rude, and his attempt to unfurrow his wrinkled face was hilarious.

“Smells pretty bad, huh?” I yawned.

“Yeah”, he shook his head, “well, it is your house. Nothing wrong with relieving yourself.”

“I know”, I say, “anyway, isn't it time you got back to work?”

He shifted a little, exhaling, before getting up and going back towards the boxes. I rested my stinky ass on it's side, to allow the remaining stink to drift from my sticky cheeks and out into the now stuffy air of the room.

When he was done, after a reluctant thank you, I brought him into the room, and had him sit down where I had sat before. He was clearly surprised by the warmth of my ass imprint, but after that spicy fart, he shouldn't be.

“Well, you've been a real help, I'll finish the rest. Anyway, I'm going to need a spare key for your apartment.”

He raised one eyebrow slightly, but lowered it when faced with my serious, almost hostile glare. “oh, I mean, I guess-”.

“If there's an emergency, I want to be able to get in. Even if there isn't an emergency, it's polite to give your neighbour full access to your apartment.”, I said this without a veil of irony, knowing full well that I would never give him a key to my place.

He agreed to post a spare key through my letterbox when he got one cut after work tomorrow. I knew that he would keep his word, and as such I wasn't surprised that, when I got home from a nice lunch the next day, I discovered a key inside a brown envelope on my mat. I took this an invitation to begin his true transformation from errand boy to slave boy. I smiled, pocketing the key as I closed the door behind me, locking it.

A day or two later I decided to, after eating a large bowl of beans, grace his apartment with a nice, long fart. This was going to be part of his descension into the realm of servitude. By having his poor apartment be graced by various of body's smelly releases, ensuring that slowly it become infused with the worst of my smells, I would be making my takeover of his life clear. The beans helped with this, and I can't say that I didn't intentionally eat them to ensure that I would be able to rip a noticeable trump in the confines of a space I was invading. It was all part of his ongoing submission.

Fortunately for him, he wasn't in the first time I decided to do this. I simply opened his door, called out his name, and dropped a long fart right there, in his hallway. I simply wafted the fart about, closed my eyes and shook my head as the sharp, spicy stink hit my poor nostrils, and left the smell to fester there. I left soon after, making sure to close the door completely too so that the fresh air of the hallway would not intrude on my fart smell.

The second time, after a similarly large bowl of beans, I made sure to time my intrusion with him being home. I opened his door after a quick knock, and when I closed it, I walked through to his living room, where he looked at me with a degree of shock on his face as he tied his shoes, ready to leave for work.

“Hello neighbour”, I said with a degree of mockery.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice slightly trembling and full of anxious bluster.

“Yeah, just thought I'd pop by and let this bad boy rip in your flat, so I don't have to deal with it”, I leaned my body over, and looked at him directly in the eyes as I allowed the long, bubbling fart to ripple out of my ass, clad in cozy sweat pants.

His face went red, and as soon as the smell hit him, he began to cough. I couldn't blame him, the smell was horrendous.

“Jesus Christ”, I laughed, “now you know why I wanted to drop that one here, and not in my own flat. No way do I want my breathing space to be infected by that”, I said this, as if to tell him that his own breathing space would be compromised for the sake of my comfort.

“I can understand that”, he coughed again, mumbling something under his breath. He really was a loser, he didn't even attempt to stick up for his own privacy or comfort.

“Well”, I swished my hair, “I'll let you get off to work, but be warned, I'm gonna' be letting myself in to let rip if I feel that my gas would be too much for me to handle. Understand?”

He mumbled a reluctant affirmation and I left, leaving him to breathe in my stink. It was that moment that I realized his role as my personal bitch had fully begun, and for that I had a huge smirk as I threw myself into the fresh, fart free air of my own hallway.

It was only a few days later when I burst in whilst he was relaxing in the room. I had farted several times whilst he was there, and I was going to take it to the next level. I had eaten a huge curry a few hours ago as an early lunch and would grace him with it's effect on my stomach.

He got up and walked into the kitchen, where I stood against the table, holding my belly. He looked, as usual, irritated by my presence there, but did nothing to get me to leave. He was going to take this like the bitch he was.

“Are you okay?” He asked with some concern, a hint of fear leaking into his voice.

“I need to use your toilet. Quick.”

“It's just across the bedroom, are-”

I ignored the rest of his words and with several sharp toots trailing behind me, crop dusting the apartment in thick stink, a particularly horrendous, eye watering stinker peeled from out my gut and masked his bedroom in pure pre-poop fetor. I landed on his toilet with a smack and released my harsh hold upon my gut.

The toilet splashed and spluttered with violent fury as I unleashed a huge, steaming dump into it's mouth. The room instantly caked with rancid, fecal stench that even caused my eyes to water. I sighed a sigh so deep that the stink began to enter my system as I breathed in again. I closed my eyes and shuddered, quickly wiping and flushing before standing up.

Quickly it became apparent that the smell wouldn't die down anytime soon. In fact, it became worse, and as I turned I saw the mess of the bowl as it flooded up to the seat, completely blocked by my release. Oh god, the sight was monstrous. Thank god it was not my problem any more. I held my nose and walked out, ready to inform him of what I had just done to his bathroom.

“You have got a huge mess to clean up”, I said as soon as I turned into his bedroom and saw him there, waiting, his face reddened. He must've heard those disgusting sounds I produced on the toilet. There was an hint of pale green which flashed across his face as the smell began to permeate his room, the horrid strength of it seemingly peeling away the wallpaper. He sunk into the bed, his new task before him becoming readily apparent.

“You're gonna need to deep clean that thing. Still, I am so glad I didn't clog up my toilet with that beast. I like my apartment to not smell like shit”, I flicked a long streak of hair behind my hair, exhaling as I smiled down at him, “well, since I have your keys, I think I'm going to be taking my dumps in here from now on. I'll also be coming in quite often when I'm bloated from breakfast to let off my gas. I'm just glad I have you as neighbour.”

“Y-Yeah”, he mumbled, shaking his head a little, “I mean, are you going to be coming a lot?”

I rolled my eyes, “well, obviously. I do fart a lot. If you're asleep, I'll try not to wake you. Oh, and don't worry, you can trust me, I won't take anything. Well, anything but toilet roll, make sure you stock up on that, I go through a lot.”

“Oh o-okay”, he said, finding his own passiveness frustrating as he looked at the floor, his hand slightly shaking.

I smiled and blew him a kiss before turning with a sway of my ass, leaving him with a little tease. I'm sure at this point he didn't find any part of me attractive, due purely to association with that rancid dump I had just taken. I was just glad he was so easy to take advantage of. I think my apartment is going to be a lot nicer now that I have his as a dumping ground for my stink, and he was one step closer to being my bitch.

After that, I began using his apartment fairly regularly. I often blocked his toilet, and despite his brief showings of irritation, small subtle gestures that afforded him the idea that he was protesting without daring to complain directly to me, he did nothing to stop me. Only one time did he get somewhat direct with his irritation with me entering his property, and I quickly ended that with a hard slap which concluded in him apologizing to me. I'm a nice girl, so I accepted his apology and left a wet fart behind as I went back to my place.

I initially started ripping ass near the entrance to his apartment, but quickly find it much more satisfying to fart in his bedroom or the living room, especially whilst he was there. It was hilarious to see his face screw up in disgust as I placed my ass near him and farted loudly in his direction. He was so disgusted by each fart that he didn't notice that each time I cut one towards him, I got closer than before. This was intentional, and his inability to see it would be his downfall.

Soon, I decided that I was going to take things further once more. I had already worked out that day, and my belly was churning with a mix of protein shake and egg omelette, so I was in the perfect position to further his role in my life.

Opening his door, I felt my belly rumble loudly. I sensed him shift uneasily in the living room as I walked through the house, his quiet anxiety permeating the space of the apartment itself. It was as if his silent fear of me had spread like a veil of fog over the whole space, similar to how my fart expands and lingers in his air. I noticed on one shelf several newly purchased air fresheners, and giggled at the connotation. Air fresheners aren't going to be nearly enough to scrub away the smell he's about to be confronted with.

“Dude”, I called out, as I launched through his door, holding my belly with fake urgency, “this one is going to smell really bad. I think it'll be better if you smell it for me.”

He sat up a little but couldn't move out of the way before I jump on top of him. He whelps as my ass connects against his legs, and as I kneel on him, the fleshy globes of my denim clad ass rubbing hard against his upper chest, I keep back the fart which threatens to violently expunge itself from my puckering asshole. I want to time this right to ensure he gets a big whiff of it.

With my weight now leaning back onto his chest, his rib cage struggles to expand to take in a full breath of air, and so he struggles to breath and inhales heavily to take in as much oxygen as he can. That turns out to be a huge mistake, for soon a deep fart echoes from out my denim clad ass and he breaths in it directly, injecting it into his own lungs.

A deep relieved sigh escapes me and I sink a little into him as he gags and splutters. He tries to push me off, but as he's sinking into the soft fabric of the chair, his efforts are in vain, and his desperate pleads are left ignored. His breath becomes more laboured, which means that he takes in more of the fart smell into his lungs, which sends a devious smile across my face as my weight pushes him into the crack on the sofa.

After a minute or so, when I realize that the increased weight in my gut is not a fart but something more, I leap off him, “gotta' take a huge dump. See ya soon”, and as if nothing happened, I went to make a huge mess of his toilet. I won't go into details about the damage I did to the bowl, but oh boy, no wonder my fart smelled so bad that day.

When I left, he was still coughing on the chair, his face red and his eyes blood shot. He looked at me with a sort of fearful pleading, but said nothing as I gave him a quick wave and left, promising to return soon. The room smelt like shit, so I really didn't want to stay for very long. After all, he had a toilet to clean, and I didn't want to know how he was going to do that.

That was the first day of my assertive and physical dominance over him. I knew as soon as I left that I would not be able to go back to simply ripping in his presence. No, his nose was meant to vacuum up my gut smog, no matter how disgusting he thought it was. Tomorrow, I would teach him that today's events were not an outlier, but rather what he should expect from his life from now on. It would be a good time for me to bring his transformation to the next stage, the first full day of his slavery.

I came in the next day, as usual. He was in the kitchen, and looked up at me from where he sat on the table. He said nothing, but looked on in fearful anticipation of what I was going to do. Clearly, yesterday had made a worst mark on him that it did in my poor panties. I simply looked down at him, raising one eye brow above the other as I leaned on one side, holding my hip.

“Get in the living room”, I demanded.

He shifted uneasily on his seat, “sorry?”

“I said”, I fluttered my eyebrows, raising my voice, “get in the living room”.

“W-Why?” He asked in an high pitched whine.

I approached quickly, and held onto my gut whilst widening my eyes. A growl shot through my gut and he looked down at my belly with a sudden terror in his eyes. I would've laughed at his reaction if not for my good acting skills. I wanted to remain still and menacing.

“Does that answer your fucking question? Now stop being a bitch, and get in the room”, my harshness paid off, for he picked himself off the seat and dragged himself into the living room. I could tell he was scared, because of the way he looked at the floor as he forced himself to do as I told him. I followed behind, holding my gut, really feeling the pressure on my lower intestine now.

“What are you going to do with me?” He stammered as he sat on the edge of the sofa, his legs shaking slightly.

“I'm going to fart on you. Now, lie on the sofa.”

“Look”, he closed his eyes, his voice a squeal as he was on the verge of tears, “this is going too far. I have a sensitive nose, I don't want to be farted on. I was nearly sick yesterday”

I slapped him, driven by real anger by his sudden, albeit pathetic, protests, “I slapped you because you were being a whiny wimp. Do you think your sensitive nose is my problem? No, now lay down on the sofa so I can make this fart your problem.”

Silently, he began to cry. Soft tears drifting down his face, he began to lay on the chair. I was glad that his breaking in yesterday worked, although I was surprised by how easy it was. I, feeling no pity for him whatsoever, turned around, aimed my bottom above his face, and dropped my weight down onto his face hard.

It all happened in a brief flash of time. I was straddling him quite comfortably, and although it felt strange sitting on his face sideways, his nose was still pressed tight against my warm crack, so he was where he needed to be. I felt him weep quietly underneath me, his inhalations deep as fear shook him. I can't blame him either, I'd be scared if I was him right now.

Even through I wanted him to lay down and accept my fart, I found myself angry with him over how easily he accepted my ass. In a way, his pathetic yes man attitude that I was relying on to make my life easier also sent a involuntary wave of personal disgust through me. I hated that he was so low of worth, that he was so much of a loser. Well, the good thing is about my current position is that I could take my anger out on the very loser that caused the anger to rise through me, and with a deep grumble of my stomach, my revenge was about to hit him hard.

Just before the fart came out of my ass, I pulled myself down hard, feeling his nose press deeply into me as he, confused for a second, released a moan. Then, shock hit him, followed quickly by realization of how close my anus was to his nose. He began to beg, to plead, knowing full well how awful my fart would be from such close proximity, with me wearing such thin leggings. My denim wouldn't hold back anything today.

I paid no heed to his whining, and soon I pushed out a elongated, brassy fart which comically hurried it's way from out my puckering asshole. It was a long stream of loud, warm air, consistent in tone and pitch as it seemed to bubble out of me in perpetuity. The fart began to rush out of me faster as I pushed down on my gut harder, the deep air becoming higher in pitch until it ended in a light, almost imperceptible squeak.

His limbs shot out as he swam in thin air, attempting to pull away from the foul clutches of my deep crack. Despite his weakness I struggled to hold him down, buckling alongside his struggles as I kept myself, with some difficulty, firmly planted upon his nose. He wheezed and cried under my weight, but soon his protests died down to shuddering sobs which tickled the thin space of fetid air between my ass and his nose.

“You should stop struggling so much, I'm gonna be here a while”, I told him sternly, “I had Mexican for lunch, so I need to let it all out, and I'm not going to move, so be a good neighbour and take them for me.”

I punctuated this point by letting a slimy burst of bubbling sulphur into his nose, grunting deeply as I pushed the last of it's thick ripples from out of my ass. This one burnt my anus as it left me, and despite being much shorter than my last fart, it seemed stronger. Still, he buckled less this time, rather he seemed to weep more, defeated as he came to realize where his true place in life was.

“That reeks”, I said as a quick whiff of meaty air wafted across my face, “you really need to learn to absorb these more. I mean, I've been trying to teach you to endure my smell more these past few weeks, you really shouldn't be crying so much.”

I pushed more weight against him as his throat began to gargle and splutter, the smell of my wet fart still deeply embedded in his nose. If only he could breath through his mouth, but the flesh of my perky bottom had clamped that shut to ensure that only his nose could inhale (and the air he was breathing was particularly toxic).

“Let's try again shall we, this time, if you don't sniff it up, I will pull down my pants. Trust me, you do not want my bare ass on your face right now”.

He stiffened and squealed as he awaited my next release. He didn't have to wait for long, because soon my ass gave birth to a warm and long flutter of rancid bean air which baked his face in pure stink. He tried to sniff it between gags, but struggled to do so, it's thick fumes burning his lungs. Clearly, he needed training in dealing with smells directly. At least he would get the chance to learn today.

“Better, but you still have a lot to learn”, I say, trying to hide a gag as a brief whiff of my own scent passed my nose. Jesus, how the hell is he alive down there? “Don't worry about it, through, you're going to learn how to become a proper fart sniffer.”

He made a sort of confused weep as he continued to heave on my gas. I grinned, wiggled my ass, and let out a cute giggle which caused him to shake in fear. I no longer had to hide anything from him.

“What, are you still confused? You really are stupid. Do you think I kept coming into your apartment just so I could fart? That was partially the reason, but I was slowly teaching you to accept your role in life. Look, we both know you're a loser, and ever since I saw you I knew you would make a great fart sniffer and all around general bitch.”

He cried but didn't move. I smiled, knowing that I had started to truly break him in.

“I mean, yeah, I have been meaning to turn you into my personal fart sniffer for some time. To be honest, I didn't know you'd fill your role this fast. I'm glad that you have properly began your job as my slave today. Yeah, that's right, a fart sniffing slave. I'm going to be coming here every day, and you're going to clean my mess and inhale my gas.”

He began to really cry then. He collapsed further into the sofa, losing his strength, my weight pushing him down into the spongy cushion of the sofa where he'll spend many hours sniffing farts in the future. No longer were his physical struggled hard to control, as his body was wreaked with physical exhaustion from heaving on my farts.

To cement his position beneath me, I let out a warm and putrid fart. He began to gag on it before it even ended, and as my slave, he began to sniff as I haddemanded. Like the useless loser he was, he got halfway through sniffing before he began to heave and splutter like an injured animal beneath me. My ass remained planted hard on his face as he pleaded for mercy.

“No, you're not going anywhere. Keep sniffing that fart, I don't wanna catch a whiff. I mean, you are my slave, and it is your job to huff my gas.”

With that, he drew forth another deep sniff, this time fully sniffing it before he collapsed into a heap of crying mess.

“Well, that was certainly better. You're learning to be an efficient fart sniffing slave”, god it felt so good to call him that, I thought as I rubbed my ass into his face, “you're going to be learning a lot these next few days. Aren't you glad that you found a place in life? It's a position perfect for you.”

He began to cry once again, this time in an higher pitch that accentuated his defeated state. Clearly he was in shock that his life had taken such a wild and disgusting transformation in such a small amount of time. Either way, I'm glad that his life as a fart slave had officially begun.

As I brewed the next fart, I sighed, feeling an elation grow inside me from achieving what I wanted. I now had an official fart slave, and his lifelong role beneath me would start today.