By: Vharala
Though small for a frigate, the SSV Normandy was home for quite a large crew, many of which went overlooked when it came to saving the galaxy two times and counting. Michelle Johnson was one such crew member, a lowly Ensign operating resource management on the Normandy’s lower decks throughout its iterations. The 32-year-old spacer served under Commander Shepard as a member of the Alliance, Cerberus, then back again. She believed in Shepard, and though she liked to think of herself as an important part of the Commander’s crew (with ambitions to be an engineer someday), the truth was she was very much stuck in the background, more a component of the ship than a member of the crew. She wasn’t even certain that Shepard knew her name, really – at least until the opportunity for some shore leave came up and she somehow found herself on a very exclusive list of people invited to a party at the Commander’s new place on the Citadel.
Michelle dressed herself in her casual best for the occasion, which is to say the standard issue shirt and pants for the Alliance; a cheap choice that nevertheless fulfilled the criteria for being both laid back and semi-professional. Parties weren’t exactly her area of expertise. She didn’t really know what to go for. This outfit was, in her mind at least, the safest bet to make.
Butterflies dancing in her stomach, Michelle disembarked the Normandy and hailed a cab at docking bay D24 to take her to the Silversun Strip, using the journey to calm her nerves and convince herself that this wasn’t really a big deal anyway.
All of that work was for nothing, for as soon as she set foot in Shepard’s apartment the nerves came rushing back, and more besides.
The room - a sort of open lounge complete with a fireplace, bar, and a wall of windows granting a great view of the strip below – was absolutely packed with people; all of them heroes near as legendary as the Commander herself.
There was Liara T’Soni, the Asari Prothean expert that Michelle had heard a few very interesting rumors about lately. Then came Tali Zorah vas Normandy, a Quarian Admiral fresh off saving her home world from both the Reapers and the Geth. It just kept going. Jack (aka Subject Zero), Samara, the infamous thief Kasumi Goto, Ashley Williams.... The sheer number of larger-than-life figures just hanging out here was enough to make Michelle’s head spin.
In order to catch a breather (and take the edge off), Michelle avoided the larger clusters for now and headed for the kitchen where she found the opportunity to grab a peaceful drink by herself, sipping at it in relative peace. She was quite content with this at first, but as the night went on – and she had a few more drinks in her – Michelle shed her nerves and attempted to mingle with the others, starting most unfortunately by bumping into what was probably one of the least “bumpable” figures in the galaxy.
“Sorry, sorry.” Michelle mumbled. The alcohol had already numbed her tongue somewhat. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was....”
Michelle’s apology caught in her throat when she realized who exactly she was talking to. Aria T’Loak, queen of Omega and an Asari that you absolutely did not want to cross. Michelle hadn’t expected anyone like that to be here. Her heart stopped as Aria’s lips curled, but thankfully she was saved from the crime lord’s wrath by Samantha Traynor, grabbing her shoulders from behind and doing her best to make light of the situation.
“Ensign Johnson.” Came Traynor’s very English accent. “I see you’ve met Aria. She’s not bothering you, is she?”
That last question was directed at Aria. It seemed to do the trick. Aria brushed off the slight, with Samantha not wasting the opportunity to pull Michelle away from the (second) most dangerous woman in the room and back to the drinks.
Before long, Michelle found herself in the company of Jack and Traynor, mellowing the mood with alcohol aplenty. Jack’s implants meant that it took a lot to get her drunk. Michelle and Traynor were just along for the ride, sharing in the free booze while swapping stories of their time serving the Alliance Military.
The girls drank and drank, draining their cups while they watched Shepard dance awkwardly, Garrus attempt to ricochet a cap between three bottles, and EDI explain the artificial drunkenness she was inducing in herself in order to better fit in. It was a good time. Michelle was feeling pretty comfortable about things now, at least until their group of three became four.
“I’m not interrupting something, am I?”
It was Aria, looking a little less composed than usual, her eyes not as sharp and her demeanor not quite as stuck up. She had her own cup in her hand. Not the first, Michelle guessed.
Drinking with the most notorious figure in the Terminus Systems was not quite as intimidating as Michelle imagined. Aria was really just like them. She just wanted to let her hair down, so to speak, and forget about her troubles for now – even if only for one night. She offered up a toast to Shepard, then followed that up with a round of shots, plying Michelle and the others with enough spirits to make them very tipsy indeed.
“I bet I could outdrink the lot of you.” Michelle challenged, swaying unsteadily on her feet.
“Say that again, Ensign.” Jack smirked, adding extra emphasis on Michelle’s rank. “It sounds to me like you think you can take me on.”
Traynor and Aria were just as incredulous. Michelle could easily have taken that as a sign to back down, but their dismissiveness only spurred her on. Before she knew it, she had poured fresh glasses for all of them.
“If I win, you all have to give me combat training. I want to be the bezzt soldier in the whole Alliance fleet.”
“Fine.” Aria remarked, a tone of amusement in her voice. “And if you lose?”
Michelle had honestly not thought that far ahead. Her mouth was moving faster than her brain was. As a result (and thanks in no small part to the amount of wine sitting in her stomach), she gave up a side of herself that the sober Michelle had kept strictly under lock and key.
“If I lose....” She repeated. “Then I’ll be your personal cushion. You can sit on my face and fart as much as you want. I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.”
Michelle didn’t realize what she was saying until it had already left her lips. It was like somebody had erected a biotic field. All sound seemed to stop around her, leaving an extremely awkward silence that lasted until Traynor broke it.
“Are you serious?” She asked. “You want us to fart on you?”
Even in her inebriated state, Michelle was pretty sure she had never used the word “want”. It was true though. For as long as she could remember, farting and being farted on had been one of her most personal desires. She’d never told anyone. Well, until now, that is.
“The Ensign here is kinkier than she looks.” Jack commented approvingly.
“And arrogant too.” Aria added. “She thinks she can best all three of us? I’ll gladly prove her wrong. Besides, I’m in need of a new cushion.”
Michelle gulped at the implications, probably putting in more of an effort there than she did when the contest actually started. Against the heavy hitters (plus Traynor), she quickly discovered how much of a lightweight she actually was. Three drinks put her on the floor, the cold tile soothing her for the brief time it took the others to finish downing as many shots as they could stand and come over to collect on their prize.
“Hmmm.... A little too far gone for my tastes.” Aria remarked, squishing Michelle’s cheeks and seeing that the young Ensign was totally blacked out.
“We can’t let her pussy out now!” Jack protested. “I’ve been needing to fart for almost an hour!”
“I suggested no such thing.” Aria replied curtly. “I always take what I’m owed, but I would rather wait and enjoy it in full than settle for anything below my expectations.”
“So tomorrow then?” Samantha chimed in hopefully.
“Tomorrow.” Aria confirmed.
-----
Nursing a raging hangover, Michelle awoke in her quarters the next morning half hoping that her memory was playing tricks on her. The other half of her was actually kind of excited, however. It was a relief to finally get her love of all things gassy out there. She wondered if she should call up Traynor and ask what really happened, but as it so happened, she already had a message waiting for her when she logged in to her private terminal.
Meet us at Prometheus on Bachjret Ward. Make sure to wear something that can breathe. We’ll be waiting.
Don’t be late.
- Aria
The message replayed over and over again in Michelle’s head as she dressed (picking something airy as per the instructions) and readied herself for the first day of the rest of her life. Before she knew it she was already exiting a cab, stepping out onto the Bachjret Ward where she quickly found Prometheus. It was the largest and most dominating presence of the entire ward; a nightclub presumably owned by Aria and right now, deserted.
A krogan bouncer allowed her entry, and inside she found the place as empty as she expected. There were no workers. The club music was turned all the way down to little more than background noise. Michelle started to wonder if she was here too early, but then she spotted Jack, leaning beside a recessed alcove and waiting for her.
“Took you long enough.” The biotic said, unfolding her arms. “What? Did little miss toots think she needed to pretty up her face before we sat on it?”
“I.... uh....” Michelle stuttered. Jack was a whole lot more intimidating without the effect of alcohol muddling her vision.
“Is our seat here?” Called a very english voice from somewhere in the private booth. “Can you tell her to get a move on? All this gas is killing me.”
“You heard her, Ensign.” Jack followed up. “In you go.”
Michelle walked past Jack and entered the booth. It was a small and comfy place without the loud music and erotic dancers. What it did have though, were drinks, and two people already well into enjoying them. Aria and Samantha Traynor were huddled together, sitting on the outer ring of cushions that surrounded a center piece where normally a dancer would be writhing around.
“It’s about damn time.” Aria said on seeing her. “Take a seat. We’ve all gassed ourselves up and are just dying to get started.”
Michelle went to sit next to Aria, but the asari warded her off with her finger and pointed towards a cushion a little further along. Michelle saw that this one was different. The seat part of it was missing. Instead, it had a large round hole opening up to a hollow space beneath it.
“Don’t forget our agreement.” Aria warned her. “You’re our personal fart cushion for as long as we want. Now get in there so we can let out some of this gas already.”
It was clear from the way she spoke why Aria was someone that always got what they wanted. Michelle didn’t even want to talk back. She was just as Aria said: a cushion – and cushions don’t talk.
Michelle lifted the false seat and laid herself down on the floor, shifting herself into a position where her head could fit snugly in the gap. Someone – probably Aria – then closed the lid on her, reducing the Alliance officer to just a pretty face in a small, very inviting hole.
“Looking good down there, Johnson.” Jack smirked. “This suits you.”
As she thought to herself how lucky she was to have stumbled into this mess, Michelle’s vision was suddenly obscured by the mesmerizing twin moons of T’Loak. Those blue buns, stripped down to a mostly nude form with only a thin strip of silken underwear running between them, a blurred glint of Michelle’s face reflected on the fabric.
The ass came down, planting neatly on Michelle’s nose and rummaging to find the perfect amount of purchase. There was a stink already. Michelle’s nostrils flared in anticipation.
“All the credits in the galaxy couldn’t buy me a seat this comfortable.” Aria sighed. “I hope you’re ready, fart bitch. I’m not going to take it easy on you.”
BBBBRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!
True to her word, Aria broke in her new seat with a foul fragrance right up in Michelle’s face, coating the ensign’s features in a stink that, as bad as it may be, was just the first of many to come.
“Did you like that?” Aria teased her. “Most would say it’s a privilege to smell my farts. There are thousands that would kill for the chance, yet here you are, my own personal seat. Let’s see if you’re worthy of the honor.”
Aria blasted another –BBLLLRRRPPTT!!!!- into her cushion, forcing her fumes into the Ensign Johnson’ mouth and nose. It was riper than the first. Much riper. Michelle gagged, coughing against Aria’s backside.
“Is that all you can handle?” Aria taunted. “What do you think, girls? Was this one nothing but talk?”
Michelle heard laughs from somewhere above her. It reminded her of the last time she put in for a promotion. She was used to people doubting her – it was why she held such a lowly station – but she would show them. No one loved farts more than Michelle Johnson.
PPHHHHLLLOOORRRRPPPTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!
To test her seat’s commitment, Aria unloaded a rank blast of humid stench. Michelle was determined to rise to the occasion, thrusting her nose deeper into the asari’s crack and not letting a single sniff go to waste.
“Oh, she’s eager.” Aria said appreciatively. “I’m surprised. My more insolent peons have made mention that my gas is particularly nasty. They didn’t last long. In that regard, Michelle here is surpassing my expectations.”
That almost sounded like a compliment; though one quickly drowned out by a sharp release of the very same gas she mentioned. Michelle hoovered it up with aplomb.
“Sounds like she’s sucking it down.” Samantha said, ear flat against the neighboring cushion.
“Good.” Jack added. “But she better still have room for me.”
Michelle wanted to say that she’d always have room for them, but right as she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a long and wet note courtesy of Aria.
BBBBRRRRRBBBBBBLLLLPPPP!!!!!!!
This fart felt as damp as it sounded. Its wetness traveled reluctantly down Michelle’s throat to join the rest, leaving in her mouth what could only be described as a lasting presence, gluing to her tongue and cheeks.
“Alright, enough!” Jack called, making Michelle think for a moment that her fun was already over. “Give someone else a turn already.”
“Be my guest.” Aria replied, prying her butt from Michelle’s face and offering it up to Subject Zero.
While relishing the absolute depravity of being used in this way, Michelle broke out of her fart-induced stupor for long enough to appreciate the strip show going down right in front of her. Jack, someone who barely wore much in the way of clothing anyway, took her coverings all the way down until she was wearing nothing but a tight black thong and a pair of leather strips to keep her chest decent. She was hot in a very “don’t mess with her” kind of way. Michelle was about to experience that first hand, with Jack hovering over the fart cushion and slowly squatting down.
“Still warm.” Jack said, making her butt feel right at home on Michelle’s face.
BBBBLLLLLRRRRRRPPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jack farted right out of the gate, introducing Michelle to a smell much sharper than Aria’s, though also less refined. It hit the fart-loving girl’s nostrils like a truck.
“Christ, Jack. I can smell that one over here.” Traynor gagged. “What on earth did you eat?”
“Just whatever Rupert cooks up.” Jack answered nonchalantly. “Fuck knows what he puts into those pots of his, but whatever it is makes me really fucking gassy.”
Jack clenched her cheeks upon Michelle’s and unloaded another fine example of what their cook’s food did to her. It was awful, in a word – at least to anyone that wasn’t a slut for flatulence. Michelle sniffed it up like it was the most heavenly scent in the world.
“I guess she likes it.” Jack smiled. “I can work with that.”
The biotic’s farts came fast and frequent after that, never letting up for a moment as she treated her fellow crew member as the cushion she was, burrowing her own personal branding into the girl.
“I knew I went too easy on her.” Aria sighed.
“All the more reason for us not to, right Jack?” Samantha winked.
The encouragement led to a nice windy -FFFFFFFFFRRRRAAAARRRRPPPPTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!- It was a gift from Jack to Michelle, bathing the latter in a wave of fresh funk that reeked of rotten street food.
“Fuck yes....” Jack groaned. “Did that feel as good for you down there as it did for me?”
Michelle’s response was an unintelligible burp that regurgitated some of the gas back up her throat so she could enjoy it a second time. She had gulped down so many farts now that her belly looked bloated; a curve of borrowed farts interrupting her otherwise trim physique.
“Mind if I have a go?” Samantha asked. “She might appreciate some new flavors.”
Jack, though still plenty gassy herself, surrendered the seat to Traynor who immediately pulled Michelle out of the false cushion and held her close, taking a good long whiff of the ensign’s face.
“You stink so much.” Samantha told her honestly. “I can see how much it’s turning you on. That’s why I don’t think the seat is good enough. I want your whole head buried in my bum.”
Traynor pushed Michelle back down onto the long couch and forced her to lay down. Then Traynor took off her uniform, sensually discarding each shred of clothing until she was in naught but a bra and panties of a smooth black satin.
“This could fetch a few credits if we were recording this.” Aria said as Samantha plopped her ass onto Michelle’s head.
“I should warn you.” Traynor pointed out. “I’ve not been eating too well lately, and my gas? It’s absolutely awful. I’m never allowed to fart in the CIC, so....”
PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHLLLLLLLRRRRRRRPPPPPPPTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A raging typhoon of ass gas took Michelle by surprise. It was not only more powerful than those thar came before, but it was also more pungent, spattering her with a toxicity that a million showers couldn’t wash off.
“Sorry.” Samantha apologized. “Was that bad? It smelled bad.”
It was worse. Even so, Michelle chugged it down like a champ, opening her pipes to full and swallowing Traynor’s butt stink as though it were the most scrumptious of snacks. She couldn’t get enough of it.
“I think she’s trying to say something.” Jack pointed out, pressing her head up against Traynor’s beautiful backside and listening intently. It a muffled sound. Definitely not a word of complaint. “She’s asking for more.”
“Well, I do hate to disappoint.” Samantha said, tensing her thighs. “Oh, I do hope the commander will let me use their shower after this.”
PPPPPPPLLLLLOOOOOOOOORRRRRPPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A shower was certainly in order given the sheer nastiness of Comm Specialist Samantha Traynor’s hideous bowel blast. It barreled through her underwear to inflict its terrible stench on Michelle. Anyone else would have run for cover. She, however, slurped up every last delicious sniff.
“Hmmm.... Yes, keep doing that....” Samantha moaned. “I almost forgot that you actually liked this.”
“Who knew that the Alliance was hiding such a fart slut?” Aria mused to herself, watching with great interest as Michelle writhed in pleasure.
Michelle was lost amid utmost pleasure. It wasn’t just the farts (though they were a godsend in themselves), but the fact that she didn’t have to hide her love of them.
“Give her a good one.” Jack said, egging on Traynor.
BBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!
Traynor obliged, somehow unearthing the smell of eggs just to drop it all on Michelle’s twitching nose. The smell was horrid, the sound worrying, and ensign’s Johnson’ desire eternal.
“Not that I care.” Aria interrupted. “But I would suggest letting Johnson up for some air. She’s liable to pass out at this rate.”
“Buy a girl a drink first?” Samantha bargained.
“Could use some louder music too.” Jack added. “I’ve gotta lot of farts in me. I just need some way to work them out, you know?”
Aria, seeing where the girls were going with this and agreeing with them, interfaced with the club’s VI to ramp up the volume and have some iced drinks brought out onto the main floor. It was the first time in almost twenty minutes that Michelle had a chance to breathe anything but farts. She came out from under Traynor’s butt struggling to get air. Her body needed it, but it wasn’t the same. What she wanted was more farts.
Michelle left the alcove after a few minutes to find the others already getting started on their day-drinking. Spirits, fresh from Thessia, were vanishing down their throats as they moved their bodies to the beat pumping out of the speakers. They were naked now. Any thoughts of keeping themselves decent were gone. Michelle watched their hot figures get lost in the rhythm.
“This music isn’t so bad.” Michelle noted, moving in to join them.
“It’s generic trash.” Aria countered, dancing up close to Michelle. “And there's no need to make small talk with me. I know exactly what sort of tune you’re after.”
A pair of shoulders grabbed Michelle from behind, forcing her onto her knees as Aria wiggled her bum closer and closer until it was right in Michelle’s face, grinding away. Michelle’s horniness compelled her to take the last inch or two herself, shoving her nose right back to where it belonged.
“I guess some people are meant to be fart cushions.” Jack said from behind her. “It sucks that we were on the Normandy together all that time and I never knew.”
“We could have been having so much fun together.” Samantha agreed. “Still, better late than never.”
BBBBBBLLLLLRRRRRPPPPPTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
Their shared regret faded away before Aria’s foulness. The dancing certainly helped bring out the worst in the asari’s ass, fumigating Michelle’s airways with a toxic odor that she huffed without complaint.
“Nice one, Aria.” Jack cheered, knowing a good fart when she smelled one.
“Me next.” Traynor insisted. “I’ve got this huge bubble that I need to let out. It’s a good thing I know just the right cushion.”
Michelle left one butt for another, her face being peeled away from Aria’s jiggly derriere and deposited firmly in Traynor’s own bountiful cheeks.
PPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAARRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Another girl, another fart. Once again, Specialist Traynor surprised everyone with her hidden talent as a true farter. Michelle shouldn’t pick favorites, but with the English girl’s gas flowing down her pipe it was hard not to.
“That.... Felt really good to let out, actually.” Samantha said thoughtfully, shaking Michelle free of her posterior.
A free Michelle meant she was free to use. Jack took this opportunity to bring her own bare backside to the ensign’s nostrils, jamming the lowly crew member so deep into her crack that the tip of Michelle’s nose peeked inside when Jack inevitably opened the valves and farted.
BBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLOOOOOOOORRRRRPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jack gave Michelle a big bite of her wind, nasty as it was. It sounded ripe, almost as though Jack was trying to prove herself against the competition. Michelle didn’t much care who the better farter was. She won no matter what.
For hours, the girls drank, danced, and whenever they felt the need, used Michelle’s face as a buffer for their near constant flatulence.
“Ugh! I’ve got a big one coming!” Jack announced suddenly.
“Me too.” Came Traynor.
“Same here.” Added Aria.
With no other recourse, the three of them surrounded Michelle with their butts backed up into her. Aria and Jack took the sides of her head, while Samantha was the lucky one to get her mouth.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wordlessly, the three of them all decided to put their best efforts in. Aria’s fart was hot and humid, Jack’s airy and powerful, and lastly, Traynor’s gas was an odorous brew that blessed Michelle’s mouth and nose with the sort of fart she could only have dreamed of before today.
The aftermath left Michelle sputtering out excess gas from her every orifice. It was the ultimate humiliation. She had been used to her fullest potential.
“What do you think, girls?” Aria spoke up. “Has our fart cushion had enough?”
“I don’t think that’s possible, but I know that I’m all out.” Traynor said, rubbing her empty stomach.
“I think I’ve got one last fart in me.” Jack answered, taking Michelle all to herself and forcing her to bend her head back like a proper seat.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRPPPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The dessert to Michelle’s meal was every bit as stinky as she had hoped. It seemed the deeper Jack had to dig, the more powerful and wretched her farts were. Michelle almost fainted from the pure pleasure of sucking it into her lungs.
“You’re tougher than you look, Michelle.” Jack commended her. “I think I’ll have to get used to doing this more often.”
Aria and Traynor were in agreement, as was Michelle herself. Things couldn’t go back to normal after this. She knew what it was like to be a fart cushion now. It was everything she ever wanted.