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Bad Roomies Bernice woke up early in the afternoon, stirring to the sound of clattering cans as they tumbled off of her comforter and into the piles of cans already amassed at the foot of her bed. Her leg cocked up and a thick wheeze of morning gas escaped her plump butt, fluttering the covers and flooding them with pungent warmth. The smell crept up to Bernice and she winced. She pulled herself up to close the blinds on her window, eager to get a few more hours of sleep, when she heard a knock at the bedroom door. “Bernie? Bernie are you up?” It was Joan, “Hey I gotta go in a bit, can I talk to you real quick?” Bernice groaned, she sat up off of her bed, brushing her long black hair out of her face and glancing down to check if she had remembered to put clothing on the night before. A long metal-band t-shirt was good enough. She lifted an arm and took a tentative sniff to gauge how well her partying last night had aged. She couldn’t help but stick her tongue out. The stink was intense, but then again she didn’t have money for utilities so she wasn’t going to be using a lot of water in the near future. Bernice pulled the door open, Joan was standing right there in front of her, “Hey Jo,” Bernice said, “You, uh, needed me?” “Yeah,” Joan looked at her feet, twiddling a strand of her blond hair on one finger, “I wanted to ask you to take care of a few things while I’m at work today. Just the usual stuff, vacuum and feed the cat and stuff…” “Yeah yeah,” Bernice replied, half-heartedly. She seemed more concerned with picking her teeth. Joan sighed, then made eye contact with her friend, “Oh Bernie? There’s one thing I wanted to ask you. Could you please, please, look into getting a job today? I just, I know we’re best friends and all but, I’m struggling to support the both of us.” Bernice curled her lip. She felt something rising up in her gut, and caught a thick belch in her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out and she blew a putrid gust of beer and meat flavored stink right into Joan’s face. The meeker girl shrivled at the odor, “Oh my god, Bernie!” Joan moaned, “I’m serious! I mean it this time!” Joan didn’t wait for Bernice’s response. She slammed the bedroom door in her roomate’s face, and Bernice could hear her stomping away before slamming the front door too. Bernice dropped her shoulders, sat back down on her bed and let out a frustrated sigh, “Christ, what a bitch.” After just another quick hour and a half of sleep, Bernice was up and doing all those insignificant chores that Joan had asked of her. Vacuuming the living room rug, cleaning up the crusted undies that she had left on the couch, feeding little Mipsy. And not only that, Bernice even went out of her way to clean up the dishes (which she had used) and crumpled up the pizza box (which she had ordered with Joan’s credit card) to put in the recycling. Honestly, Bernice thought she was a damn fine roomie! Joan should be thankful to have her, “Still,” Bernice thought, “It couldn’t hurt to look.” She sat down at the kitchen table with her laptop and a container of cold, questionably aged chinese food leftovers, and began to flip through whatever personal ads she could find in her area. The mere idea of working was tiring to Bernice, but these choices were some absolute bottom of the barrel shit, “Baby sitter, dog walker, janitor? Christ, these all suck!” Bernice moaned, “I can’t do this. I’ll just tell Joan that I couldn’t find anything.” Utilizing her incredible procrastination skills, Bernice set out to find something to take her mind off of all this “job search” nonsense. And since she already had her computer right in front of her, it didn’t take her very long to find that exactly what she needed was a nice, healthy dose of internet pornography. Specifically lesbian domination, her absolute favorite. “Fffuck yes,” Bernice hissed, slipping her hand into her sweat soaked panties to being massaging her mound. Tonight’s selection was a bit of financial domination, with a sexy slobbish dom beating a wimpy sub and making her pay for all her bills. It was easy for Bernice to self insert in this particular piece. Especially when the dominatrix planted her asshole right on the sub’s mouth and let fly right between her stupid lips. Bernice panted, “Christ, why can’t that be me?” Suddenly something hit her. Bernice paused her furious finger flicking. “Why couldn’t that be her?” She thought, “I could do that shit, right?” Bernice was dominating enough, wasn’t she? She could make some slut lick her cunt for cash, or fuck some bitch with a strapon. Or she could even… fart on someone? No, she couldn’t. Could she? She had heard those fart doms had some of the most putrid gases imaginable, so could she possibly compete with them? Only one way to find out! “Hey uh, Mipsy?” Bernice called out to the kitten who had been snoozing on the couch, “C’mere boy. You want a treat?” “Aw come on!” Bernice shouted after it, “It wasn’t that bad!” Bernice dipped her head between her legs and squeezed out another wispy fart, one that she inhaled herself. She was almost immediately taken back by the harsh, bitter stench of her own ass gas. She could’ve sworn she could feel a tear running down her cheek. Bernice gasped, “Augh, Christ! That’s horrible! I guess we know I can rip ass with the best of ‘em. So that means I should try practicing? Maybe shoot something?” She scanned the room for something she could use to try and simulate a sub. She didn’t want to kill the cat, so that was right out. Instead, Bernice settled on a throw pillow that Joan had decorated their couch with. Bernice turned on her laptop’s webcam and aimed it at the couch. Snugging the pillow tightly beneath her cheeks, she clamped her legs down on it from the other side and held it closely against her butt. “How do you like this, worm?!” Bernice pushed a hot, slightly soggy fart through the oversaturated fabric of her panties and into the pillow, then she wriggled her ass back and forth to smear the stink in like she had seen those doms do so many times before. A hissing puff of gas escaped into the pillow, heating it with the warmth of her inner bowels. “Yeah, you enjoy that flavor, you pathetic whelp!” Bernice was almost blushing from how ridiculous she was feeling, but she didn’t want to break character. “Now brace yourself, this’ll be my killing blow!” Bernice scowled and forced her guts as hard as she could. She was clenching so hard she was sweating, and she finally squeezed out a trumpeting fart that was a little damper than she would’ve liked. But ignoring the squishy feeling between her cheeks (and the formidable odor that was even too putrid for her), she tried her best to laugh cruelly at the suffering of her “Sub” and rub it in for a bit before climbing up to shut off her camera. “God, I can’t believe I did that,” Bernice said, looking at the file that had just finished saving. She wasn’t actually going to upload this, was she? “I mean, it’s not like I have anything to lose.” A few clicks of the mouse and a creative title, and her video was set to upload to the eyes of the perverted public. As it went to work uploading, Bernice occupied herself with a few other things, like polishing off the last few beers in the fridge and the rest of the chinese food. A few hours later, while slouching on Joan’s couch and flipping through the tube, Bernice remembered to check on her earlier handiwork. “Goddamn!” She said, “100 views! I mean, it’s not a ton, but for an amateur it ain’t bad. Hell, I could even go pro with this!” While she was musing over the possibilities, Bernice heard a sound at the door. The lock clicked, and the knob turned and in walked Joan. She was home unusually early today. Bernice stood up from the kitchen table, “Hey Jo, what are you doing here so early?” “Oh, it was just a slow day,” Joan said, hanging her coat up on the wall, “They let me off early. Look, I need to talk to you.” Bernice interjected, “So do I! Look, I’ve got this great thing-” Joan held up her hand, Bernice stopped immediately. Joan sighed, “Bernie, I’ve been thinking. I was talking with Chris at work and we both agree, it’s time for you to move out.” “What?” Bernice snapped. Joan took Bernice’s hands and tried to sound as comforting as she could with this, “Please, Bernie, think about this. I know we’re friends and everything, but I feel like I’m just enabling you here. You don’t put in any effort, you don’t try to improve. I don’t want to be the one holding you back here. I think this is the kick in the pants you need!” Bernice tore her hands away from Joan, “Don’t touch me! K-kick in the pants? Are you fucking serious?” Bernice was starting to feel tears well up in her eyes, and her cheeks were inflamed with agonizing embarrassment. She felt like she was going to scream, scream until she just passed out right where she was standing. And at the same time, she felt nauseous like she was going puke or, or even worse-- BRRRRRUMPT A fast, hard fart blasted out of Bernice, like the explosion of a blast cap. Joan could’ve sworn she saw the windows of the apartment shake, “Oh my god!” Joan gasped, covering her mouth, “Bernie that’s sick!” Bernice felt something new bubble up inside of her. She scowled, shoving Joan up against the wall with all her might. The smaller, frailer girl crumpled up against the wall, unable to fight back when Bernice grabbed onto her shoulders and forced her down, into the corner. “Oh I’m sick, huh?” Bernice shouted, “Fucking sick? How’s this for sick?” Bernice turned on her heels and slammed her ass into Joan’s face so hard that the girl may’ve just gotten a concussion. The drywall behind her cracked as her skull bounced against it, but the pain was honestly the least dominant thing in Joan’s mind at the moment. The worst part of it was by far the horrid, shitty stink of Bernice’s deeply stained panties. “You like that? You like that?” Bernice growled (though it was obvious by Joan’s thrashing how she felt), “Well guess what? It’s only gonna get worse!” She clenched her abs and forced down the worst gas she could muster. A hot, muggy breeze fluttered out of her asshole, tore through the shit-stained fabric of her underwear and blew straight into Joan’s nose. Her friend screamed into her ass, but to Bernice it just felt like a nice little hum on the rim of her asshole. Bernice laughed and said, “So is that too much for you then? How about this?” She lifted her ass just slightly, peeling down the soggy panties and revealing the full magnitude of her crap-caked ass to her terrified friend. Joan screamed, but Bernice slammed her ass down again, meaning all Joan’s little outburst got her was a mouth full of fart fudge. “Shut up, cunt!” Bernice hissed. Bernice massaged her gut, feeling the old chinese and skunky beer brew inside of her. It was like a raw, liquid version of all the hate and anger she was feeling at the moment. She squeezed a thin, sloppy shart into Joan’s horrified face, then wriggled back and forth to really smear the shit into Joan’s complexion. “Get ready, stupid! This is gonna fucking end it!” Bernice could feel it burrowing down into her core, the worst fart yet. She widened her stance, spreading her cheeks and pushing Joan as far into her crack as she could. Bernice felt Joan’s desperately sniffing nose up against her asshole and knew it was the perfect position. She pushed, her asshole bursting outward and spewing out a non-stop torrent of her absolute worst, wettest, shittiest gas. The putrid stream felt like it was billowing for at least a minute, but for Bernice it was a minute of pure ecstasy. When she finally stood up off of Joan’s face, she had completely forgotten her earlier indignation. “Hah, what do you think of that, you dumb bitch?” Bernice said over her shoulder. Joan didn’t respond. “Jo?” Bernice spun around to see if her friend was okay. Joan was lying there, her face streaked straight down the middle with fresh shit. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were glassy. Visible plumes of Bernice’s reeking flatus streamed out of every hole on her face. “Oh my god,” Bernice slapped Joan on the face, she didn’t respond. “OH my god I killed my friend, I killed her!” Bernice couldn’t look at Joan. She turned around, supporting herself on the couch. She felt dizzy, she couldn’t keep herself standing up. Suddenly she felt someone grab her ass and start licking up her shitty crack! “What the fuck!?” Bernice turned over her shoulder, Joan was there, on her knees, slurping up Bernice’s shit. Bernice gasped, “Jo what the fuck? Get off of me, christ!” She shoved the smaller girl away, “I thought you were dead and--” Bernice stopped. Joan was looking up at her, terrified. She looked like a beaten dog. Her lips were quivering and her eyes held some sort of pained confusion. She looked like she didn’t know where she was. She looked like she didn’t know who she was. “J-jo?” Bernice said, her voice quivering, “Jo, talk to me?” The girl didn’t respond, just stared at her in simple confusion. Bernice’s eyes widened, “Oh my god it’s even worse. I farted my friend retarded!” She had given her friend brain damage! What would she do now? What could she do now? There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe it was just a temporary condition! Or, maybe she could find some answers online. Bernice scrambled to the computer, where she had left up that porno site where she had uploaded her video. But before she tabbed into Web MD, she noticed something that almost overshadowed her buddy’s brain damage: Her video had shot up to nearly 15k views, and there was a message in her inbox. She couldn’t resist taking a quick peek. “Punkskunk69,” Bernice read aloud, “We’re incredibly impressed with your first upload. We feel like you’ve got a lot of potential, and so we’d like to ask you to stop by our studios sometime soon and have a shoot with us. We’d just ask that you’d bring a sub of your own, as we are currently understaffed on submissives. Contact us as soon as you’re able!” Bernice couldn’t believe this. She looked over to Joan, who was still cowering in the corner. She couldn’t do this, could she? Then again, with Joan like this, there wouldn’t be any income. They’d need a way to keep a roof over their head. And Bernice definitely couldn’t fix Joan if she was living on the streets, could she? “This is so fucked up…” Bernice mumbled under her breath, as she started to type her reply. |
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