Edgar
by ???

Edgar had been annoying me for a few days. He hadn't been tidying up properly round the house (I've got a couple of acres in Buckinghamshire near the river) and he wasn't quite as enjoyable in smother sessions as usual. The two slaves sleep on the other side of the house (five bedrooms) and when I want one for an evening's entertainment I generally let them have some notice so they can prepare. Well, I'd been toying with the idea few a day or so of teaching Edgar a lesson he'd not experienced before.

I'd always been interested in the works of the Marquise de Sade and decided I'd like to put into practice some of his ideas. As I quite like aniseed balls I snacked on these the day before the lesson.

I woke up farting like a trooper. All day I blew off wind, quite enjoying the sensation of the constant pressure release. All day I snacked on aniseed, pleased with the desired result.

I told Edgar to come to my smother room at 6 o'clock. It was funy - he looked so shocked as I released yet aother loud trumpet. At precisely 1 minute past six he knocked politely at my door.

'Come in,' I angrily called. Meekly, he looked at the floor, obediantly avoiding my eyes (no eye contact unless direct permission is granted). 'What time do you call this?' I snarled. He gawked at me and I grabbed his hair, pulling him towards the smother seat. All the while, as I strapped his head into the seat's recess, my backside was letting rip with the loudest of farts. His face was a picture - terror was etched into his eyes.

'I've had just about enough as I can take of your impudence!' I hissed down at this ass slave, just there for my pleasure. Now, I love the smell of aniseed but i don't think he did. I savoured the moment, enjoying his anxious face. 'You're going to be taught how fart slaves should behave' I smirked. He whined as I reverse-stradded his helpless face, slowly hitching up my mini kidskin skirt.

He didn't speak or say anything (my rules forbid this and would result in severe punishment). I laughed at the funny noises he made every time I farted, while his face peeked through between my thighs.

'You love my bum, don't you?' I grinned down at him.

His lip trembled, not knowing whether to speak.

I made him open his mouth and sat down, planting my anal passage over his mouth. 'Keep it open,' I commanded. 'It's the only air you're going to breath for a while'.

Well I must have farted into his mouth for well over an hour. I got quite good at it, judging just by the right amount of his choking whether to let him take a lungful of fart-tainted air or just plain old pure fart. And I'll tell you one thing - he's never been so tidy in his entire life ever since. But I'll find another excuse, don't you worry. Anyway I quite like it, it's good fun.