Girls Night

By: deanskunk

PART 1

The snow outside swirled and danced, blanketing the city in a thick white quilt as Ivy's apartment door swung open, revealing Jessica and Amy bundled up against the cold. They stepped inside, stomping the snow from their shoes before hanging up their coats and scarves.

Ivy looked up from where she was rummaging through the fridge, her green eyes meeting theirs. Her red hair, usually styled in loose waves, was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. She managed a small smile for her friends, even as sadness lingered in her expression.

“Hey girls,” she greeted softly, shutting the fridge door. The breakup with Mark was still fresh, his absence leaving a gaping hole in her life that she wasn't sure how to fill. But she was determined to put on a brave face for Jessica and Amy.

Jessica, with her curvy figure and warm brown hair, crossed the room to pull Ivy into a tight hug. “How are you holding up?” she asked softly, rubbing Ivy's back. Behind her, Amy, tall and athletic with her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail coming out of the back of her baseball cap, started unpacking bags of groceries.

“We're here for you, no matter what,” Amy chimed in, pulling out a pack of ground beef. “Tonight is about making you feel better and forgetting all about that jerk. Chili and wine, just like old times! Been a while since we had a girls night.”

Ivy laughed softly, feeling a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders at her friends' enthusiasm. “Thanks, you guys,” she said, meaning it. “I don't know what I'd do without you.” She grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist, the blue fabric a stark contrast to her pale skin and fiery hair. “I’m starving. Let's make some chili then, shall we?”

As the three women worked together in the kitchen, the chatter and laughter filled the air. Jessica and Amy made sure to keep Ivy engaged in the conversation, determined to lift her spirits.

Jessica, chopping onions with practiced ease, looked up at Ivy with a comforting smile. “Seriously, Ivy, it's better this way,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. “Mark was never good enough for you. You deserve so much better.”

Amy nodded in agreement, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she stirred the ground beef in the large pot.

“Absolutely,” she concurred. “Tonight, it's all about you, girl. We're going to make this a night to remember!”

Amy reached over and turned up the volume on the small speaker sitting on the counter. Upbeat pop music filled the apartment, and without missing a beat, the three women started to dance in the kitchen while working. Ivy felt a smile tug at her lips as she swayed her hips to the music, letting it seep into her bones.

As the chili bubbled and simmered on the stove, the aroma of spicy peppers and savory meat began to permeate the air. Jessica, chopping bell peppers with gusto, laughed and called out over the music, “Guys, I have a feeling this chili is going to give us some serious gas later!”

Amy and Ivy both cracked up at that, Ivy's green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Who cares?” Ivy retorted, a genuine smile now gracing her face. “It's a girls' night. If we get a little gassy, so be it!”

The three women clinked wooden spoons like makeshift glasses, toasting to a night of laughter, friendship, and moving on. The snow raged on outside, but inside Ivy's apartment, it was a warm, cozy sanctuary filled with the love and support of two of the most important people in her life.

Just as the three women were really getting into their dancing, a sharp knock at the door startled them. They paused, looking at each other questioningly. Ivy rolled her eyes and sighed, setting down the spoon she had been using as a mock microphone.

She opened the door to reveal a scrawny man, probably in his early thirties, with a pinched and irritated expression on his pale, almost narrow-looking face. He was dressed in a plain sweater and jeans, his frame slight and unimpressive. This was Paul, Ivy’s neighbor from down the hall.

Paul cleared his throat, his voice tight and polite as he spoke. “Excuse me, ladies, but could you please keep it down a bit? It's getting a bit loud, and some of us are trying to work from home.” He sounded was apologetic, but the furrow in his brow betrayed his tone.

Ivy, Jessica, and Amy exchanged glances, stifling their amusement at the sight of the scrawny man. Ivy, still smiling, nodded and said, “Of course, Paul. We're sorry about that. It's just a girls' night in, and we got a bit carried away with the music. We'll turn it down.”

Paul nodded stiffly, clearly expecting more of an apology. “Thank you,” he said, before turning and heading back to his apartment, his gait lacking any real confidence or strength.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the three women burst out laughing, unable to hold back any longer. Jessica, wiping tears from her eyes, called out, “Wow, he looked so weak and pathetic! No wonder he can't handle a little music!”

Amy snorted, shaking her head. “Seriously, he looked like a gust of wind could blow him over. And the nerve, interrupting our girl time!” She shook her head in disbelief.

Ivy grinned at her friends, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Well, let's not let him ruin our night. Turn up the tunes, girls!” she encouraged, and with that, the music swelled once more, and the three women resumed their dancing, leaving Paul and his complaints far behind them.

As the night wore on, the chili was finally ready, and the three women sat around the small kitchen table, ladling the steaming stew into mismatched bowls. They dug in hungrily, the spicy, comforting flavors warming them from the inside out. For a while, the only sounds were the clinking of spoons against ceramics and the occasional appreciative moan as they savored each bite.

As the wineglasses began to empty and the plates grew cleaner, the conversation turned more intimate. Jessica, leaning back in her chair with a contented sigh, brought up a topic that had been on all their minds. “So, Ivy,” she began, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes, “now that you're single again, what's on your mind for your love life? Any cute guys catching your eye?”

Ivy blushed slightly, considering her answer as she took a sip of her wine. “I don't know,” she admitted. “I'm not really thinking about dating anyone new just yet. I just want to focus on myself and my friends for a while.”

Amy, her blonde hair now slightly disheveled from their earlier dancing, leaned forward with a smirk. “Well, I say go for it, girl,” she said, pouring herself another glass of wine. “You deserve to let loose and have some fun. And I mean real fun, be in charge like I was with my ex.” She winked suggestively.

Ivy looked at her with raised eyebrows, curious to hear more. Amy grinned, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “I used to make him eat me out when I got back from the gym? I used to love being in control like that, having him worship my body after I worked out. There's just something so satisfying about it. You need to find a man that will do that for you.” She sighed wistfully at the memory.

Ivy's eyes widened, a mix of shock and excitement flashing across her face. “Amy! I can't believe you're so...forward,” she said, shaking her head in amazement. But there was a hint of envy in her voice, a longing for the confidence and sexual freedom that Amy so obviously possessed.

Jessica, watching Amy with a knowing smile, chimed in, “You know, Ivy, you should try it sometime. Being dominant, I mean. It's a real turn-on.”

Ivy thought about Amy's bold confession with wide eyes, a mix of shock and curiosity playing across her face. After a moment, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she looked at Amy intently. “Wait, so how did you get your ex to...you know, eat you out?” Ivy asked, her voice low and conspiratorial. “I mean, I can't imagine Mark would have been up for something like that. I think he only did it once or twice in the year we dated.”

Amy smirked, leaning back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin. “Well, it wasn't hard, really. I just made it a requirement, you know? Every time I got back from the gym, sweaty and revved up, I'd march him upstairs and make him service me. It became our little routine.” She shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ivy listened with rapt attention, her mind racing with the visual of a sweaty, dominant Amy ordering her ex around. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the thought of such bold, unapologetic sexuality. But a question nagged at her, and she voiced it hesitantly.

“But didn't you...didn't you smell? I mean, after a hard workout, don't you get all sweaty and gross?” Ivy asked, wrinkling her nose slightly at the thought. She couldn't imagine being that comfortable with her own natural musk, let alone demanding her partner engage with it.

Amy waved off Ivy's concern with a dismissive gesture, her blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. “Pfft, that was his problem, not mine,”she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I mean, if he couldn't handle a little sweat and gym smell, that was on him. I wasn't about to hold back my workouts just because he was a little squeamish.”

Jessica listened to the exchange with keen interest, taking a long sip of her wine before setting the glass down and leaning forward. “Wait, so what happened between you two?” she asked, her brown eyes narrowing slightly. “I thought you guys were still together. Why aren't you with him anymore?”

Amy's smirk turned a bit sheepish, and she shrugged, examining her nails with sudden interest. “Oh, I dumped his ass a few months ago,” she admitted, as if it was no big deal. “He just couldn't keep up, you know? Couldn't give me what I needed.” She sighed dramatically before a sly grin spread across her face. “But hey, I still call him up sometimes, when I'm feeling...you know, horny.” She admitted to her friends. “He's always eager to come over and help me out, even if we're not together anymore. I guess he learned his lesson about pissing me off. He gets down on his knees and goes to work and after my orgasm I send him on his way.” Amy leaned back in her chair clearly proud of her ability to maintain such a...useful arrangement with her ex.

Jessica, emboldened by the wine flowing through her system, let out a sudden burst of laughter. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous idea, and she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know what we should do? Invite him over tonight, to...service all three of us. No strings attached, just a good time. I bet he'd love the chance to satisfy three gorgeous women like us.”

Ivy's eyes widened at the suggestion, a mix of shock and excitement flashing across her face. Amy's eyebrows shot up in surprise before a slow, wicked grin spread across her features. But then reality set in, and the three women glanced out the window at the swirling snow outside.

Ivy was the first to voice the obvious concern. “Uh, Jess, I don't know if that's going to be possible tonight,”she pointed out, nodding towards the storm raging outside. “With this snow, I doubt he'd be able to get here. And I'm not sure I want a stranger wandering around in this weather.” Ivy bit her lip, weighing the risks in her mind.

Amy, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a thoughtful expression. “Ivy's right, it's too risky. I don't want to put anyone in danger just for a...quick fling,” she said, her tone a bit more subdued than before. “Maybe we should save that idea for another night, when the weather's better.” She sighed, a hint of disappointment in her voice, but ultimately agreeing with Ivy's cautious stance.

With the idea of inviting Amy's ex over temporarily shelved due to the dangerous weather conditions, the three women turned their attention back to their girls' night. Amy, always the instigator, stood up and cranked up the music even louder, the beat pulsing through the small apartment.

Jessica, feeling emboldened by the alcohol and the thrill of her own daring suggestion, grabbed the bottle of wine and topped off everyone's glasses. “Well, if we can't have a man here to entertain us, we'll just have to entertain ourselves!” she declared with a grin, taking a big swig of her wine.

Ivy giggled, the alcohol and the loud music already starting to go to her head. She stood up and started dancing again, her red hair bouncing with each movement. Jessica and Amy joined her, and soon the three women were lost in their own little world, laughing and swaying to the beat.

The wine kept flowing, and the conversation turned even more salacious. They reminisced about past flings and fantasized about future ones, their inhibitions lowered by the alcohol and the sense of sisterly camaraderie. For tonight, they had each other, and that was enough. Tomorrow they could deal with reality, but tonight, they were three friends, united in their femininity and their desire for a good time.

Just as the three women were really getting into their dancing and drinking, the sound of a sharp knock at the door startled them. They paused, looking at each other with annoyance flashing in their eyes. Amy, in particular, seemed irritated by the interruption. She was already feeling the effects of the wine, her blonde hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed.

Ivy went to the door and flung it open, ready to give Paul a piece of her mind. Paul stood there, his scrawny frame looking even more pathetic in the dim light of the hallway. He had the audacity to look even more put-upon than before, his pinched face twisted in a scowl.

“Listen, ladies,” he began, his voice tight with barely contained anger. “I've had enough of this noise. Turn it down, now.” He made a move as if to step forward, trying to intimidate Ivy.

But Amy, emboldened by the alcohol and the desire to protect her friends, stepped forward. She pushed past Ivy and got right up in Paul's face, her body language aggressive and dominant. She was only a few inches taller than him, but she used every inch to her advantage.

With a smirk on her face, Amy leaned in close, her voice a low. “Listen here, you little worm,” she said, her words slightly slurred but no less menacing. “We're having a girls' night, and we'll play the music as loud as we damn well please. You don't like it? Well, you can fuck right off. This is a free country, and we're not going to let a little bitch like you ruin our good time.”

Behind her, Jessica and Ivy watched in amazement as Amy stood up to their scrawny neighbor. A mix of shock and admiration was etched on their faces. Amy was showing them exactly how a woman takes charge and puts a man in his place, and they couldn't be more impressed.

Still feeling the liquid courage flowing through her veins, Amy turned back to her friends with a wicked gleam in her eyes. A mischievous grin spread across her face as a daring idea took hold in her drunken mind. She leaned in close to Ivy and Jessica, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Just as Ivy was about to tell Paul to fuck off and slam the door in his scrawny face, Amy grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Hold up,” Amy said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I just had the best idea. Since my ex can't make it over in this weather, maybe our dear neighbor Paul here can fill in for him.” She raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of drunken lust.

Jessica and Ivy looked at each other in stunned silence for a moment before bursting into giggles. “Amy, you're crazy,” Jessica said, shaking her head in amazement. “There's no way that little twerp could satisfy us.”

Ivy bit her lip, considering the shocking suggestion. She had to admit, the thought of putting her miserable neighbor in his place and dominating him was darkly tempting. “I don't know, Amy,” she hedged, but her eyes lit up with a newfound wickedness. “It's so wrong...but maybe that's what makes it so right.” The alcohol and her broken heart emboldening Ivy to consider the scandalous idea.

Amy looked at Paul and then back at her friends, her drunken mind latching onto the idea with gusto. She turned to Ivy with a wicked grin,“Don't worry, babe,” she said, her words filled with confidence. “I doubt our little friend Paul here has much talent in the bedroom, but that's okay. We can still teach you how to dominate a man, even if he's not the best specimen around.”

She glanced back at Paul, who was still hovering awkwardly in the doorway, looking lost and confused. Amy let out a low, wicked laugh. “Besides, the real fun is in the domination, not the actual fucking,” she said, “We can show you how to put a man in his place, how to make him do what you want, even if he's not the most...able-bodied of partners.”

Jessica nodded in agreement. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “It's all about the power play, the thrill of being in control. And with a little worm like him, you'll have all the power, Ivy.”

Ivy's eyes widened as she listened to her friends, thrill running down her spine at the thought of dominating her scrawny neighbor. She knew it was crazy, knew it was wrong...but the alcohol and the darkness in her heart were pushing her to take a chance, to indulge in something so utterly taboo and scandalous. “Okay,” she said at last, her voice filled with a newfound determination. “Let's do it. Let's show this little prick what happens when he fucks with us.”

With a wicked grin, Amy turned back to Paul, her eyes narrowed with a drunken, lustful intent. She crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer. “Hey, worm,” she said, her voice a low, commanding tone. “Get your scrawny ass in here, now.”

Paul hesitated, but the hungry looks on the three women's faces were enough to make him stumble forward, crossing the threshold into their apartment. Amy slammed the door shut behind him, cutting off any chance of a quick escape.

“Sit,” Amy ordered, pointing at the floor in front of the couch. “Down there, now.” She used a tone that brooked no argument, and Paul quickly sank to the floor, his scrawny legs folding awkwardly underneath him. He looked up at the three women, a mix of fear and confusion in his eyes.

Apparently satisfied with Paul's compliance, Amy sat down on the couch, crossing her legs just in front of his vision. She leaned forward, and while making eye contact, slowly removed one of her shoes. Holding Paul's nervous gaze, she brought her bare foot close to his face, her toes nearly brushing his nose.

“Sniff,” she commanded, her voice a low, demanding growl. “Get a good whiff, asshole. I want you to smell every inch of my foot, every toe and every inch of skin. Do it now, before I make you lick them clean.”

Paul hesitantly leaned in, his nose hovering inches from Amy's bare sole. He took a tentative sniff, his nose wrinkling slightly at the pungent scent. Amy's foot had a strong, almost musky odor, the result of her not wearing socks often, especially during her intense workouts at the gym.

Amy, Jessica, and Ivy watched as Paul struggled to comply with her demanding order. They could see the revulsion in his eyes as he caught a whiff of her unwashed foot, but his reluctance only served to empower them further. This pathetic creature was at their mercy, forced to do their bidding.

Ivy felt a thrill of power surge through her at the sight of their scrawny neighbor so obediently sniffing her friend's ripe foot. She glanced at Jessica, who wore a similar expression of dark amusement and dominance. It was clear that seeing this worm of a man put in his place was giving them all a rush of confidence and excitement.

Amy smiled, enjoying the look of distaste on Paul's face as he dutifully sniffed her ripe feet. “That's it, you little prick,” she purred, rubbing her foot against his nose and cheeks. “Get used to the smell of a real woman's foot. Something tells me you don't get to experience that often, do you? And lucky you I haven’t had a chance to shower after working out today!” She let out a mocking laugh, reveling in her power over him.

As Paul reluctantly sniffed at Amy's ripe, unwashed sole, she took the opportunity to give her friends a drunken lesson on the art of foot worship. She glanced over at Ivy and Jessica as Paul continued to obey.

“Watch closely, girls,” Amy said, her words filled with authority. “This pathetic man is about to get a crash course in worshipping a woman's foot properly.” She pressed her sole harder against Paul's nose, forcing him to inhale even deeper. “The key is to be firm,” she instructed, demonstrating by rubbing her foot all over Paul's face, leaving no inch of her skin unworshipped. “You want to show him that his comfort and pleasure are irrelevant. It's all about your satisfaction.”

She then swapped feet, shoving her other bare sole in Paul's face. “Don't neglect the other foot,” she ordered Paul. “A woman's feet deserve to be worshipped equally. And don't be afraid to use a little force, to really grind your foot against his face. It's a reminder of who's in charge.”

Amy made sure every part of her foot made contact with Paul’s nose making sure he was sniffing the smelliest spot. Throughout her impromptu lesson, Amy kept glancing at her friends, encouraging them to pay close attention. “Remember, ladies, a man's face is just a footrest for a woman's perfect sole. It's time we start treating them as such.”

Ivy and Jessica watched with rapt attention, absorbing every word of Amy's drunken wisdom. They could feel the power and excitement building within them, a newfound sense of feminine dominance that was intoxicating in its intensity.

Amy turned back to Paul and pressed her sole harder against his face, grinding her heel into his cheek until he was forced to open his mouth to breathe.

“Alright, listen up, you little prick,” Amy growled,“You've had your chance to sniff my perfect feet. Now it's time to put that tongue of yours to use. Start licking, now!” It wasn't a request, but a firm, unyielding command.

As Paul hesitantly stuck out his tongue, Amy pulled her foot back just enough to give him room to start lapping at her sole. She let out a low moan of satisfaction as she watched him reluctantly begin to worship her foot.

Glancing over at her friends with a drunken, dominant gleam in her eyes, Amy smirked and said, “Girls, don't be shy. Take off your shoes and get ready to be next. This pathetic neighbor has a lot of feet to worship tonight.”

Jessica and Ivy exchanged excited, almost predatory looks, the alcohol and the dark thrill of dominating Ivy’s scrawny neighbor filling them with a heady rush of feminine power. They quickly kicked off their shoes and took off their socks, eager to join in the debauched foot worship session and assert their newfound sense of control.

Amy grinned ear to ear as she watched Paul reluctantly lap at her sole, his tongue clumsily worshipping every inch of her skin. After a several minutes , she pulled her foot away, leaving him gasping for air. “That's enough,” she declared, “You've had your chance with my perfect feet.”

She nodded to Jessica, giving her the go-ahead. Jessica extended her feet towards Paul's face, pressing her toes against his nose. Jessica's feet were damp and pungent from the intense dancing and the warmth of the room, the musky scent filling Paul's nostrils.

“Sniff,” Jessica commanded, her voice stern. "Get a good whiff, all that dancing made me work up a good sweat."

Paul had no will power to do anything but comply, his nose filled with the strong, heady smell of Jessica's sweaty sole. He breathed in deeply, the pungent scent flooding his senses. Jessica seemed to relish the look of revulsion on his face. She curled her toes around his nose and rubbed the sweat into his skin. She kept her smelliest parts of her feet on his face switching from one foot to the other occasionally.

“Now, lick,” Jessica ordered, “Lick every toe, from the top of my foot to the bottom, keep going until I'm satisfied. And don't you dare stop until I say so.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Paul was forced to worship Jessica's sweaty, pungent feet with his tongue. He lapped at her toes, her arches, her heels, his saliva mixing with the sweat and grime of her skin. Jessica used his face like a footstool, grinding her sole against his features and forcing him to inhale her ripe, pungent scent with each breath. All the while, Amy and Ivy watched sipping their wine and enjoying the show.

Ivy went last ready to assert her newfound dominance over her scrawny neighbor. Years of his annoyance was about to be rectified. She brought her foot close to Paul's face, her toes just inches from his nose. Ivy's foot carried a slightly musky, slightly damp scent. It wasn’t as strong as Jessica or Amy’s but it still packed a punch.

“I want you to suck on my toes,” Ivy commanded, her voice demanding . “Suck on each one, until I tell you to stop.”

Paul hesitated, looking up at Ivy with pleading eyes, but she didn’t show him any mercy. The scent of her feet filled his nostrils, the aroma a reminder of the power she held over him. With a resigned sigh, he leaned forward and took her big toe into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He continued moving down the line sucking each toe while Ivy kept her other foot planted on his nose. After each toe on her right foot got attention she swapped feet.

As Paul finished her left foot, Jessica shifted on the couch, and in the silence there was a soft, wet sound. A small but audible fart escaped her, the smell of it filling the air. It was a short, sharp burst of gas, but the stench was immediate and overwhelming.

“Oh my god, Jess!” Amy exclaimed, wrinkling her nose and waving a hand in front of her face. “That smells so bad!” She let out a giggle, despite her disgust at the noxious odor.

Ivy paused, pulling her foot back slightly as the smell hit her. She wrinkled her nose, her face twisting in a grimace. “Fuck, that's nasty,” she said, fanning the air in front of her face. “But keep going, Paul. Don't let a little gas stop you.”

The girls giggled and made crude comments about the stink, but they didn't stop their wicked little game. Instead, they encouraged Paul to continue worshipping Ivy's toes, the pungent scent of Jessica's flatulence mingling with the musky aroma of Ivy's feet.

Ivy had a rush of power she never experienced before as she felt Paul's tongue swirling around her toes, his reluctant suckling sending a dark thrill through her body. She was really getting into the dominant role, the power of having this pathetic creature at her mercy. Her toes glistened with his saliva as he obediently worshipped each one just like she had commanded.

“That's it," Ivy purred, “Suck on those toes like they're the only things that matter. Show me how much you love worshipping a my feet. Maybe we can do this more often since you live just right down the hall.” She wiggled her toes in his mouth, forcing him to take more of her sweaty flesh past his lips.

Jessica shifted on the couch again, her face twisting slightly. “That chili is really kicking in… I think I need to fart again,” she warned. “That last one was just a warm-up.”

Amy's eyes sparkled with a wicked thought. She smirked at Jessica, then glanced down at Paul, a sinister grin spreading across her face. “I have an idea,” she said, her voice a low, devious purr. “Paul, lie down on the floor, now!”

Paul looked up at the three women, he hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering himself to the floor, lying on his back as ordered. Amy nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Jessica.

“Jess, sit on his fucking face,” she said, with a laugh escaping her lips. "Pin him down and make him sniff that ass of yours. Let's see how he likes having a woman's gas choking him."

Jessica giggled, a dark thrill running through her at the idea. She stood up and turned to face Paul. Without hesitation she straddled his face, lowering her backside until it was pressed against his nose. The fabric of her leggings and the scent of her arousal filled his senses as she settled her full weight on him.

Jessica looked back at Paul as she settled her ass fully against his face, pinning him in place. She could feel his nose pressed tightly against her ass crack, his nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe through the thin barrier. With a low, cruel chuckle, Jessica bore down slightly, grinding her ass against his face until his nose settled right against her asshole.

“Brace yourself,” she warned, her voice a dark and threatening. “I hope you're ready for this.”

Paul had just enough time to register the ominous tone in her voice before Jessica unleashed a long, wet fart directly up his nose. The force of it made a loud, gurgling sound that filled the room, the stench of her ripe, pungent gas immediately flooding Paul's senses. It was a long, unrelenting burst of noxious wind, the foul odor of her ass filling his lungs and burning his nostrils.

Ivy and Amy watched, their eyes sparkling with sadistic amusement as they saw Paul's face contort in a mix of revulsion. They could see him trying to turn his head to the side, trying to escape the overwhelming stench, but Jessica's weight kept him firmly in place.

“Oh my god, Jess!” Ivy exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at the intense smell. “That's so fucking gross!” Despite her words, she couldn't stop grinning, reveling in the dark thrill of seeing Paul so helplessly at their mercy.

Amy just laughed, “Mmm, I think our little friend is really enjoying the view,” she said with a mocking tone, “Aren't you, Paul? And don’t you just love her scent too?”

Jessica looked back at Paul's helpless, contorted face, feeling a thrill at the power she held over him. She could see the horror in his eyes as he struggled to breathe through the overwhelming stench of her noxious gas. With a wicked chuckle, she lifted her ass slightly, giving him just a moment's reprieve before bearing down again.

"You're in for a long night," Jessica confessed, “I've got plenty more where that came from. I hope you're ready to be my personal little gas bag.”

While seeing Paul’s face was entertaining , the stench of Jessica’s gas really was overpowering. Ivy, wanting to avoid the stench, stood up and grabbed a plush blanket from the back of the couch. Holding it out to Jessica, “Wrap this around yourself, Jess. We need to keep all that delicious stink trapped right against his face.”

Jessica took the blanket and wrapped it snugly around her waist and lower body, cocooning her ass and Paul’s face beneath the fabric. The blanket would act as a makeshift tent, trapping the noxious fumes of her gas and forcing Paul to inhale nothing but the ripe, pungent stench.

“Fuck yeah,” Amy said, a low, approving laugh escaping her lips as she watched Jessica secure the blanket. “Now his pathetic nose is really in trouble, Jess. And he's not going anywhere.”

The girls all giggled and cackled, enjoying seeing their scrawny neighbor so helplessly at their mercy. Paul, trapped beneath the blanket and Jessica's ass, had no choice but to breathe in the intense, eye-watering stench of her gas, the foul odor searing his nostrils and burning his lungs. With her weight pressing down on his mouth there was no other option but his nose.

Paul struggled beneath her, his face flushed and contorted in revulsion. His nose was filled with the overwhelming stench of her ass, trapped under the blanket, and he was growing more desperate with each passing second.

Suddenly, Jessica let out another long, wet fart, the gurgling sound and foul odor filling the blanket tent. Then, without letting Paul catch a breath, she unleashed a second one, and then a third in quick succession. Each blast of gas was long, pungent, and eye-watering, the stench growing more intense with each burst.

Paul started to struggle in earnest, his body thrashing beneath Jessica's weight as he tried desperately to escape the noxious fumes. His hands clawed at the blanket, scrambling against the fabric as he tried to find a way out of his putrid prison. The blanket tent billowed and shuddered with his futile attempts to break free.

Seeing Paul's growing desperation, Amy stood up from the couch and sat down heavily on his stomach, straddling him and pinning him even more firmly to the floor. Paul let out a muffled grunt with the added weight, his struggles growing weaker.

Amy grabbed Paul's wrists, one in each hand, and pinned them down beside his sides. “That's enough squirming,” she said, her voice threatening. “You're not going anywhere until Jessica is done. And if you keep fighting, well... I might just have to sit on your fucking face next.”

Paul's eyes widened in fear, a fresh wave of dread washing over him at Amy's ominous words. He forced himself to be still, his body trembling beneath the dual assault of Jessica's gas and Amy's weight on his stomach. Her grip was tight on his wrists and she easily overpowered his futile attempts.

After unleashing three more noxious blasts of gas over the next twenty minutes, Jessica finally lifted herself off Paul's face. Surprisingly Paul filtered most of the gas from under the blanket before it was moved. He gulped in deep, desperate breaths of relatively fresh air, his lungs burning from the prolonged assault.

“I think I'm out of gas,” Jessica announced, a wicked smirk playing on her lips as she watched Paul's haggard expression. “For now, at least.”

Amy glanced over at Ivy, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey Ivy,” she said, a grin spreading across her face. “Have you ever sat on a man's face before?" She jerked her head towards Paul's red, exhausted face.

Ivy blushed slightly having mostly vanilla sex her entire life, but a smile soon filled her lips. She was about to respond when her stomach suddenly gurgled loudly. The chili finally hit her and a heavy sensation was building in her lower belly.

“Actually...” Ivy began, then paused as another gurgle sounded. “Shit, I think I can feel the gas building in me too, from all that chili.”

She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling the pressure in her gut growing stronger. Ivy glanced down at Paul's exhausted face, a dark desire forming in her mind. She looked back at Amy.

“You know what? No, I haven't. But maybe it's time I give it a try. I think I'm about to unleash a storm of my own down there.”

Ivy stood up from the couch and turned to face Paul, a cruel smile her face as she stepped closer to his head. Jessica moved to sit on Paul’s chest, and Amy scooted to his legs to make room. All three girls watched Paul's expression turn from one of relief to one of renewed dread.

Ivy decided to get more comfortable and shimmied out of her jeans leaving just her thin lacy black panties on from her waste down. She then settled her weight down onto Paul's face, the plush curve of her ass engulfing his features completely. Paul's eyes widened in horror as he felt the heavy pressure of Ivy's ass smothering him, his nose immediately filled with her distinct, pungent scent. It was a different aroma than Jessica's, but no less intense or overwhelming.

“Fuck, Ivy,” Amy laughed as she watched Paul's muffled struggles beneath her friend, “Anytime you feel gassy, just call this little prick over to help you out. Consider it a new... service he can provide for you. Maybe we can have more girl’s nights with him too!”

Jessica snorted as she surveyed the scene. “Hell yeah, we're totally making this a regular thing,” she agreed. “Now that we got our own personal gas filter, right here at our disposal.”

Paul's began to panic, his hands scrambling weakly at Ivy's thighs as he tried in vain to push her off. But Ivy just settled her weight more firmly as she felt Paul's futile efforts.

"Mmm, not comfortable down there?" Ivy purred, a sadistic edge to her voice. “Well, get used to it, because you're going to be seeing a lot more of my ass in the future.”

Paul felt a loud, gurgling sound emanate from Ivy's core. Then, with a low groan, she unleashed a long, drawn-out blast of gas directly onto his face. The stench was intense and eye-watering, burning his nostrils and lungs as it filled his senses. Paul gagged and choked beneath her, but there was no escaping the putrid cloud. Ivy quickly grabbed the blanket to trap the smell.

Ivy continued to sit heavily on Paul's face, her ass engulfing his features as she unleashed a series of ripe blasts directly up his nostrils. Each time his nose was filled with the pungent, eye-watering stench of her gas, the foul odor forced into his sinuses and burning his lungs. Ivy’s farts were also louder than Jessicas’s causing the girls to all giggle with each release.

“Fuck, Ivy, you're really letting him have it,” Amy said with a wicked laugh, watching Paul's muffled struggles beneath her friend's generous curves. “This is seriously hot to watch.”

Jessica nodded in agreement as she surveyed the debauched scene. “God yes, we need to have more girls' nights like this. And we should definitely focus on eating food that's going to give us the worst gas. I mean, think of all the fun we could have with Indian food, mexican, or... oh, I know! I could make my cabbage soup!"

Amy cackled at the idea. “I fucking love it,” she said, high-fiving Jessica. “We can take turns sitting on his pathetic face all night long. By the time we're done with him, he'll be a complete mess.”

As if to punctuate their darkly amused conversation, Ivy let out another long, drawn-out fart, the gurgling sound and noxious stench filling the blanket. Paul gagged and choked beneath her, his face reddening with the effort of trying to breathe through the putrid onslaught.

“Fuck, I can feel another big one coming,” Ivy said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Big sniffs Paulie...” She wasn’t lying, as Ivy let out a long and powerful stream of gas that had nowhere else to go but right into Pauls flared nose.

The girls giggled and cackled with cruel amusement, eagerly anticipating many more nights of debauched fun at their scrawny neighbor's expense.

“Put your mouth right against my asshole,” she demanded, her voice a low and cruel. “I want to feel your lips sealed tight as I fart directly into your mouth.”

Paul weakly shook his head as he tried to pull away. But Ivy just reached under the blanket and grabbed the back of his head, fisting her hand in his hair as she forced his face harder against her ass. The pungent fabric of her panties pressed against his nose and mouth, the scent of her ripe gas already burning his senses. A damp spot was forming where her asshole was positioned from her multitude of farts.

“That's it, hold it right there,” Ivy growled, her fingers tightening in Paul's hair. With her other hand, she reached down and hooked a finger in band of her panties. In one swift motion, she lifted slightly and yanked them to the side, fully exposing her bare, puckered asshole to Paul's horrified face.

Paul let out a muffled, panicked cry as he felt Ivy's naked, sweaty flesh press directly against his lips. Before he could pull away, Ivy bore down, the tight ring of her anus pressing hard against his mouth as she felt the pressure building inside her.

Seeing Paul's desperate struggles and hearing his muffled cries, Amy leaned over and grabbed his wrists again which were trying to push Ivy away. She pinned his arms down beside his head, holding them tight as she leaned in closer to his ear.

“Don't fight it, you little bitch,” she hissed. “You're not going anywhere until Ivy's finished with you.”

Jessica watched the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and envy. “Damn, Ivy, that's so fucking sexy,” she said, licking her lips. “I wish I had thought of that.”

With a low groan, Ivy let out a long, forceful fart. The putrid gas exploded from her bare asshole, flooding Paul's mouth and throat with the intense, eye-watering stench. Paul gagged and choked, trying desperately to spit out the noxious wind, but Ivy just held him tighter, forcing him to swallow the foul air.

Paul gagged and retched as the first putrid gust of Ivy's gas flooded his mouth, the taste absolutely revolting. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before - a sickening mix of rotting eggs, sulfur, and something deeply foul and organic that made his stomach churn with nausea. The flavor was so intense and overwhelming that Paul felt like he was going to be sick right then and there, his body rebelling against the noxious poison being forced down his throat.

But Ivy showed no mercy, her fingers tightening painfully in his hair as she kept him in place, sealing his mouth completely against her bare, sweaty asshole. Paul had no choice but to inhale the noxious fumes, his lungs filling with the eye-watering stench as he felt the room starting to spin around him.

“Fuck, I think I have a little more in the tank,” Ivy grunted, a sadistic grin spreading across her face as she felt Paul's desperate struggles. "Open wide!”

Ivy unleashed another massive, drawn-out fart directly into Paul's mouth. The taste was even more putrid and sickening than before, the force of it making Paul's eyes roll back in his head as he felt his vision starting to go dark around the edges. Small particles exploded out of Ivy coating Paul’s tongue.

As the final, noxious blast of gas flooded his senses, Paul let out a strangled, muffled scream. His body convulsed weakly beneath Ivy's heavy weight, his wrists straining against Amy's iron grip on his arms. But it was no use - the lack of oxygen, combined with the overwhelming nausea and dizziness from the gas, was too much for him to bear.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Paul's struggles ceased, and his body went limp beneath Ivy's ass. He slipped into unconsciousness, the room fading to black as the last thing he heard was the cruel, wicked laughter of the three girls who had gassed him into oblivion.

The three girls got off his body and looked down at the unconscious neighbor. Deciding he gad enough for tonight they picked him up, each taking a limb. They hauled him up off the floor, his feet dragging behind him as they carried him out of the apartment and down the hallway to his own door.

Ivy fished in his pockets until she found his keys, then unlocked the door with a twist of the wrist. The girls carried Paul inside, kicking the door shut behind them, and hauled him towards his bedroom. They dumped his prone form onto the bed, his head lolling to the side, still reeking of the putrid gas that had knocked him out.

Once they had him situated on the bed, the girls looked at each other with wicked grins. Jessica lowered her leggings and shimmied out of her panties, as did Amy and Ivy. Holding the soiled garments by the waistband, they approached the bed and roughly shoved the panties over Paul's head, the crotch and ass part settling obscenely over his nose and mouth as a little souvenir of their night together.

Paul stirred slightly, his nose twitching as he inhaled the ripe, lingering scent of the girl’s panties. The smell of their arousal and the lingering traces of gas filling his senses even in his unconscious state.

With their little "gift" complete, the girls grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Paul's desk. Amy scribbled a short message, her handwriting sloppy and unrefined:

"Hey prick, thanks for being such a good sport today. We had a blast gassing the shit out of you. Don't forget, you're expected over here next Friday for another 'girls' night. 8:00pm sharp! Also I’m a little upset I didn’t get a turn on your face before you passed out so expect double from me. Be ready for even more 'fun'. - Amy"

Ivy taped the note to the headboard of Paul's bed, right above where his panty-covered head rested. With a final, cruel laugh, the three girls left Paul's apartment, shutting the door firmly behind them and leaving the unconscious, panty-muffled man to sleep off the noxious ordeal he had endured.


PART 2

It was the following Friday afternoon, and the girls were already eagerly gathered in Ivy's apartment, buzzing with anticipation for the night's planned activities. The weather was much more calm and the streets were cleared from last weeks blizzard. They lounged on the couch, chatting and giggling as they made their mischievous schemes.

“Alright bitches, we need to make sure we're extra ripe for tonight,” Amy said as she surveyed her friends. “No holding back later tonight, got it? I want us to be at our stinkiest when that little prick gets here.”

Jessica nodded eagerly, “Fuck yeah, I'm so excited. I haven't showered since Tuesday morning, and I've been chowing down on all sorts of gassy shit. I want my ass to be fucking weapons-grade tonight.”

Ivy laughed, grabbing a bag of chips and tearing it open. “Same here,” she said, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth and crunching loudly. “I've been eating nothing but Indian food all day. Oh and I haven’t bathed since Monday. By the time I'm done with him, he won't know what hit him.”

Amy, always the more athletic of the three, got up and walked to the thermostat. “Sweet. I’m going to turn up the heat and do some squats and lunges to really get the sweat flowing. And hey, it's not like I need to worry about any nasty ass sweat stinking up the apartment... we'll just make sure that little bitch inhales every last drop. This is going to be so much fun. And you’re sure he is going to show Ivy?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I told him he can either come here once a week on Fridays or we can all take turns visiting him any day of the week.” Ivy reassured, “He has no spine and he’s terrified of disobeying us. Also I just want to say I’m glad you guys helped me discover this after my breakup. I haven’t thought about Mark once this week.”

Time seemed to drag as the girls eagerly anticipated the opportunity to subject Paul to their ripe bodies and the putrid stench of their gas. They spent the next few hours working out, snacking on gassy foods, and lounging in the apartment, letting their natural stinks marinate and build.

As the clock struck the appointed hour, Paul found himself standing outside Ivy's apartment door, his heart already racing with a mix of dread and perverse anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what was to come, before knocking weakly on the wooden door.

Almost instantly, the door swung open, revealing the three women with wicked grins on their faces. Paul's let out a tiny gasp as he took in their appearance - all three were dressed in tight, sweat-soaked clothing that clung to their curves like a second skin. Ivy's tank top and shorts were drenched, the fabric darkened and plastered to her ample chest and thighs. Some of her red hair stuck to her forehead from the impromptu workout the girls just finished. Jessica and Amy fared no better, their own outfits just as damp and ripe with the stench of their unwashed bodies.

Paul's nose wrinkled instinctively as the pungent aroma hit him like a physical force. The air was thick with the reek of their sweat and something more, a underlying funk that made his stomach churn. He could see beads of perspiration rolling down their faces and necks, dripping onto their heaving chests. The heat radiating from the room a sign of things to come.

“Well, don't just stand there, bitch boy,” Ivy stated, “Get your scrawny ass in here. We've been waiting for you.”

Paul hesitated for a moment before Ivy grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut behind him. The moment he was inside the intensity of their combined stink hit him like a punch to the nose. He gagged, his eyes watering as he tried to breathe through his mouth, but it was no use.

Jessica and Amy closed in around him, their bodies radiating heat. Paul could see the sheen of sweat on their skin, the damp patches on their clothes, and he knew he was in for a long, stink-filled night at their hands.

The girls wasted no time in grabbing Paul, their hands gripping his arms tightly as they dragged him further into the apartment. Ivy and Jessica each produced a dirty sock, the fabric already ripe with the stench of their stinky feet. Without warning, they shoved the socks into Paul's mouth, forcing his jaws wide as they packed the foul garments in tight.

Paul gagged and choked as the taste of the ripe socks coated his tongue, the pungent flavor of stale foot sweat flooding his senses. He tried to spit them out, but the girls held his head firmly, their fingers digging into his hair as they stuffed the socks in deep.

Once his mouth was packed with the putrid garments, Amy grabbed a roll of duct tape and tore off a strip with her teeth. She pressed the adhesive side against Paul's lips, sealing the socks firmly in place and ensuring he would be unable to spit them out.

“Alright, you little bitch,” Amy said, her voice a low, commanding growl. “Strip. I want to see that scrawny, pathetic body of yours.”

Paul fumbled with shaking hands, yanking his clothes off in a panic. His shirt came off first, followed by his pants, until he stood before the three women in nothing but his boxers. The girls cackled and jeered at his exposed body, their eyes roaming over his scrawny frame with disdain.

“Damn, look at those skinny little twigs he calls legs,” Jessica laughed, poking at Paul's thigh with a finger and watching it bounce back. “No wonder he can't run away from us fast enough.”

“And check out this scrawny chest,” Amy chimed in, giving Paul's ribs a rough smack that made him flinch. “He's got less muscle than a teenage girl. Pathetic.”

Ivy smirked, circling around Paul like a shark. “No, I think our dear little friend here needs a little more incentive to behave. Amy, go grab that chastity cage you brought. I think it's time we made sure this bitch doesn't get any funny ideas like touching himself.”

Paul's eyes pleaded, shaking his head frantically as Amy disappeared and then returned with a small plastic device. He tried to back away, but the girls had him surrounded.

“Oh no, I don't think so,” Ivy said, grabbing Paul's wrist and twisting his arm behind his back. “You're not going anywhere until we say so.”

Amy placed the cage into Jessica’s hands, and she wasted no time in grabbing Paul's boxers and yanking them down. Paul's flaccid penis sprang out, small and unimpressive even smaller in his terrified state. Jessica snorted in disgust.

“Fuck, look at this pathetic little thing,” she said, grabbing Paul's dick roughly and squeezing it like a piece of meat. “This is not worthy of a real woman's pussy. You'd probably just hurt yourself trying to fuck us with this thing.”

Ivy and Amy nodded in agreement, their faces etched with disdain for Paul's manhood. “Yeah, he's not man enough to fuck us,” Ivy said, her voice dripping with contempt. “But maybe if he's a really good little bitch, we'll let him use his mouth on us later. Consider it a reward.”

Paul whimpered and squirmed as Jessica roughly shoved his soft, unimpressive penis into the tight confines of the chastity cage. She snapped the device shut, locking it with a firm click that made Paul's stomach lurch with dread. Ivy and Amy watched with cruel amusement, eager to see their new toy secured and at their mercy.

“Alright, you little bitch, time to put that nose of yours to work,” Ivy said, her voice a low, commanding growl. She grabbed Paul's hair and shoved him down to his knees, forcing him to kneel submissively before the couch.

The three girls took a seat on the couch, their bare feet now at Paul's eye level. They had removed their shoes in anticipation of his arrival, wanting him to have an unobstructed view - and smell - of their sweaty feet.

Ivy shoved her foot forward, roughly pressing her toes against Paul's nose. The pungent, eye-watering stench of her ripe foot sweat filled his nostrils, making him gag despite the tape sealing his mouth. Ivy smirked down at him, enjoying his discomfort.

“Sniff,” she commanded, digging her toes in harder against his nose. “Get a good whiff, you little foot freak. Been working out hard this week just for you.”

Jessica and Amy followed suit, each pressing their own feet against Paul's face, one after the other. They took turns shoving their ripe, unwashed feet against him, forcing him to inhale the putrid stink of their sweat-soaked skin. Paul's eyes watered and his throat constricted as he tried his best to breathe through his nose, the stench overwhelming his senses.

As Paul knelt there, forced to sniff the ripe, sweat-soaked feet of the three women, they continued to chat casually amongst themselves, acting as if making him inhale their stink was a completely normal activity. The conversation turned to their dinner plans for the evening.

“Mmm, I can't wait to dig into that cabbage soup we made earlier,” Ivy said, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched Paul struggle with her foot pressed against his nose. “We made sure to really pack it with onions and garlic too. Should make for a really stinky night for our little friend here.”

Jessica grinned wickedly, also pushing her foot harder against Paul's face. “Fuck yeah, I've been craving that soup all day. I want to get so fucking gassy tonight, you have no idea. This bitch is going to be drowning in our stink.”

Amy chuckled darkly, rubbing her own foot along Paul's cheek, smearing her sweat across his skin. “God, I am really loving our new girls night activities. Making this little worm suffer with our stink, knowing he doesn't have a choice but to breathe it in. It's so fucking hot.”

With that, Ivy stood up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen, returning a minutes later with three steaming bowls of cabbage soup. She handed them out to Jessica and Amy, who eagerly took a spoon and dug in, slurping loudly.

Paul was forced to continue sniffing their feet as the girls ate, although with their focus on eating they weren’t quite as rough on him for a moment. Paul's eyes watered and his stomach churned, but he had no choice but to endure it, kneeling before them like the subservient foot slave they had made him.

As Jessica finished her soup, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, I forgot to mention, I brought a little surprise with me tonight! I left it in the car, but it should really help enhance our fun with the little worm here.”

“Well what is it?” Ivy said with anticipation in her voice.

“I’ll go get it, don’t want to spoil it…” With that, Jessica stood up from the couch and sauntered out of the apartment, leaving Paul alone with Ivy and Amy. Ivy quickly gathered up the empty bowls, carrying them to the sink and stacking them with a clatter.

Seizing the moment of privacy, Amy leaned in close to Paul, her ripe foot still pressed firmly against his nose. In a low, conspiratorial whisper, she breathe hotly towards his ear, “You know, it's been almost a week since I last showered. I can't wait to sit on your pathetic face and really make you suffer. I want to feel your nose twitching as you drown in my stink, you little bitch.”

Paul whimpered behind the tape sealing his mouth, his eyes wide with dread at the thought of what was to come. The anticipation of Amy's plan made his skin crawl, even as he was forced to continue inhaling the putrid stench of her feet. He had no idea what other twisted torments Jessica had in store for him, but he knew one thing for certain - it would be a long, stink-filled night for the helpless, caged man.

Jessica returned a few minutes later, carrying a large, sturdy wooden box with a wicked grin plastered across her face. Ivy and Amy looked up, their eyes lighting up with sadistic excitement as they caught sight of Jessica's surprise.

“Check it out, bitches,” Jessica announced proudly, showing off the smother box and setting it down on the floor in front of where Paul still knelt, trapped between Ivy's and Amy's ripe feet. “I found this bad boy online and just knew I had to get it for tonight. It's called a smother box, and I think it's perfect for our little gas bag here.”

The girls gathered around the box, examining it with avid interest. It was lined with a thick black padding, and there was a circular opening cut out of one end, just large enough for a head to fit through. Straps and buckles were affixed to the sides for the purpose of restraints.

Ivy reached out to run her fingers over the smooth outer surface, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips. “Fuck, this is genius. We can really make this little bitch suffer now. I can't wait to see him struggling and gasping in there while I blast him.”

Amy licked her lips, already imagining the delicious torment they could inflict with this new toy. “And look, it's got places to cuff his wrists. We can keep him nice and trapped while we smother him. This is going to be so fucking hot! No need to waste energy holding him down.”

The girls eagerly set to work strapping Paul into the smother box, their eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation. Ivy grabbed Paul's hair, forcing his head through the circular opening, while Jessica and Amy worked to secure his wrists and arms with the built-in restraints.

Paul struggled and whimpered as much as he could, but it was no use against the three women's combined strength and sadistic determination. They tightened the straps and buckles, until Paul was held firmly in place, his head sticking out of the box and his wrists cuffed to the sides.

Once they had him fully restrained, Ivy stepped back to admire their handiwork. She circled the box, trailing her fingers over the black padding and giving Paul's head a sharp smack as she passed by.

“Comfortable in there?" Ivy taunted, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Don't worry, we'll make sure you're real cozy... buried in the stink of our ripe, raunchy asses. You're going to be breathing nothing but our fucking stink for the rest of the night.”

Jessica and Amy giggled cruelly, already eager to strip off the clothes they still wore to begin Paul's long, stink-filled ordeal trapped in the smother box.

Amy stood up over the box a wicked grin spreading across her face as she looked down at Paul's terrified expression peeking up. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her tight leggings and panties, peeling them down her thick thighs with a slow, teasing motion.

“Alright, you little bitch, I didn’t get enough time last week so I went all out,” Amy , her voice dripping with cruel amusement. “I've been wearing this exact pair of panties and leggings for the past four days straight, no showers and extra days working out. I had to go to the gym at night so they wouldn’t kick me out from my stench. I'm sure you can imagine how ripe I must be by now.”

She stepped out of the discarded clothing, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. Then, with a sadistic smirk, Amy turned and straddled the smother box, hovering her bare ass directly over Paul's restrained face. The pungent, eye-watering stench of her body filling his space, making Paul gag and retch behind the tape sealing his mouth.

“Get a good whiff, you little fucker,” Amy growled, slowly lowering her ass until it pressed against Paul's upturned face. “This is just the beginning of what's in store for you tonight. I'm going to sit here until I feel your nose twitching and your lungs burning for air. And that's just the appetizer course, you pathetic worm.”

As Amy settled her bare, unwashed ass onto Paul's face, she made sure to position herself just right. She shifted her hips until his nose was nestled firmly between her asshole and vagina, the pungent, eye-watering stench of her ripe, four-day old crotch filling his nostrils completely.

Paul's eyes bulged and he let out a muffled scream of protest, but Amy just smirked down at his helpless struggles. She made sure to leave just enough room for him to breathe, but only just. The air around the smother box grew thick and heavy with the putrid aroma of her stink, making Paul's head spin.

“That's it, breathe it in,” Amy purred sadistically, grinding her ass against his face and smearing her sweat and grime across his features. “I want to feel your nose sliding up and down from my asshole to my pussy.”

Jessica and Ivy watched with cruel amusement, eagerly awaiting their own turns to smother the helpless man with their own stink. They could see Paul's body tensing and hear his muffled cries, but only spurred on their sadistic desire to torment him further.

Amy continued to grind her dirty crotch against Paul's face, rubbing her sweaty, musky flesh up and down his nose and cheeks. She could feel him struggling and gagging beneath her, but his feeble attempts at resistance only heightened her cruel amusement. For ten long minutes, she made him inhale the putrid stench of her ripe, four-day old vagina and asshole, relishing in his torment.

Suddenly, Amy felt a familiar pressure building in her bowels. A wicked grin spread across her face as she realized what she was about to do. Without warning, she shifted her hips and positioned her asshole directly over Paul's nose, sealing his nostrils with her filthy brown starfish.

“Oh fuck, here it comes, you little bitch,” Amy growled, a sadistic gleam in her eye. “Get ready to sniff.”

With that, Amy let out a long, drawn-out fart directly into Paul's nostrils. The putrid, noxious gas filled his nose and mouth, making him gag and retch violently. The stench was overwhelming, a foul mixture of cabbage, shit and the ripe musk of her unwashed body. Paul's eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled to breathe through the assault, but there was no escape from Amy's vile, fermented fumes.

After a few agonizing moments, Amy lifted her ass just enough to allow Paul a slim wheeze of foul air, keeping him conscious and aware of his impending torment. She grinned down at his anguished, tear-stained face, watching as he gasped and choked, desperate for any respite from the putrid stench.

“Don't pass out on me now,” Amy taunted. “I need you awake and suffering for every second of this.”

True to her word, Amy spent the next fifteen minutes blasting Paul with a seemingly endless barrage of ripe, noxious farts. She would seal his nose with her filthy asshole and unleash a long, gurgling blast of her foul, fermented gas, then lift just enough for him to take a slim, precious breath before diving back in for another round.

Paul's world narrowed down to the putrid, eye-watering stench of Amy's asshole and the burning sensation of her noxious fumes searing his lungs. He could feel his head pounding and his vision starting to go dark, but every time he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, Amy would lift her ass just enough to keep him awake through the nightmare.

“That's it, keep breathing, you little bitch,” Amy purred sadistically, grinding her ass against his face and smearing her sweat and grime across his features. “I want to feel you gasping and struggling with each one. Inhale deeply, let it fill your lungs and your mind until there's nothing else...”

Jessica and Ivy watched with sick amusement, eagerly awaiting their own turns to smother the helpless man.

After what felt like an eternity of torment, Amy finally lifted her ass off Paul's face, allowing him a desperate gasp of relatively fresh air. She smirked down at his battered, tear-stained face, knowing that he was on the verge of collapse from the prolonged assault of her foul fumes.

“Alright, I think he’s has had enough of my stink for now,” Amy announced, climbing off the smother box but not before wiping her sweaty ass on Paul's hair. “Jessica, Ivy, whoever wants to go next… it's your turn to give our guest of honor a warm welcome.”

Jessica and Ivy exchanged wicked grins, both giddy with anticipation. They stood up from the couch, the scent of their own odors wafting through the air as they approached the box.

“I'm so fucking gassy right now,” Jessica said, already starting to peel down her pants and panties. “I've been saving it all up for this moment.”

“Me too,” Ivy added, doing the same and revealing her own unwashed, musky ass. “Theres room for two up there. Why don’t we go at the same time.”

The two women climbed onto the smother box, positioning themselves on either side. They straddled the box, hovering their bare asses over Paul's face, ready to sandwich his nose between their sweaty, ripe cheeks.

“Get ready,” Jessica purred sadistically. “You're about to be smothered in so much ass stink, you won't know which way is up.”

“Yeah, just relax and take it,” Ivy added with a cruel laugh. “We'll make sure you're drowning in our stink before the night is through.”

Paul found himself utterly helpless as Jessica and Ivy positioned their bare asses on either side of his head. The pungent, eye-watering stench of their ripe, sweaty cheeks filled his nostrils as they slowly lowered themselves, trapping his nose between their musky cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating off their flesh, the air growing thick and heavy with their combined, noxious odor.

Paul's heart raced in fear as he awaited the inevitable assault, knowing that at any moment, the two women would unleash a torrent of noxious farts directly into his face. He tried to prepare himself mentally, but there was no true way to steel himself for the putrid onslaught that was to come.

Not wanting to be left out Amy decided to join in on the fun, straddling Paul's legs and hovering her own ripe ass over his caged cock. She could see the bulge of his small, pathetic penis straining against the plastic prison, and she smirked in disgust.

“Look at this pathetic dick, so desperate and useless,” Amy taunted, reaching down to give Paul's caged cock a rough squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll make sure to pay extra special attention to this little guy while you two gas him into submission.”

With that, Jessica and Ivy both let out long, drawn-out farts directly into Paul's nostrils. The combined stench of their asses and farts was overwhelming, a noxious cocktail that left him reeling. Paul gagged and retched, his lungs burning from the foul air, as the two women grinned down at him.

At the same time, Amy pressed her asshole directly against the cage covering Paul's cock grinding against the plastic. She could feel his small penis throbbing and twitching beneath the cage, and she knew that the sensation of her ass was both tormenting and arousing him in equal measure.

The next thirty minutes passed in a haze of agonizing torment for Paul as Jessica and Ivy took turns assaulting his senses with their ripe, putrid farts and the overwhelming stench of their asses. They worked in tandem, ensuring that Paul was never granted more than a slim, precious breath of relatively fresh air before sealing his nose once more with their musky cheeks and unleashing another noxious barrage.

Jessica and Ivy sat on his face back to back, their assholes kissing either side of his nose as they blasted him with a seemingly endless stream of farts. The foul, fermented gas filled his lungs and seared his throat, making him gag and choke helplessly. They grinned down at his anguished, tear-stained face, relishing in his suffering and grinding their asses against him harder with each passing minute.

Meanwhile, Amy made sure to keep Paul's legs trapped beneath her, occasionally reaching down to grope and squeeze the bulge in his caged cock. She could feel it throbbing and twitching desperately against the plastic prison, and she knew that the degrading sensations of her ass grinding against him were a special form of torture all their own.

Paul's world narrowed down to the putrid stench of the two girl’s assholes and the burning sensation of noxious fumes searing his lungs. He could feel his head pounding and his vision starting to go dark, but every time he teetered on the brink of blessed unconsciousness, the Ive or Jessica would lift just enough to keep him trapped in the moment.

“That's it, keep breathing, you little bitch,” Jessica purred sadistically, sealing his nose with her asshole and unleashing another long, gurgling fart. “I want to see you gasping and struggling with every single one.”

“Yeah, inhale it all,” Ivy added, doing the same and blasting his other nostril with her own ripe, putrid fumes. “Let our stink fill up every corner of your pathetic mind until there's nothing left but us.”

All Paul could see was their asses, backs, and brown and red hair dancing above as they moved. After what felt like an eternity of agonizing torment, Jessica, Ivy, and Amy finally climbed off the smother box, allowing Paul a precious moment to gasp for air. His head spun and his lungs burned from the prolonged assault of their noxious fumes, but he was still conscious and aware.

The three women stood over him, their naked lower halves glistening with sweat and other unmentionable fluids. They conferred briefly amongst themselves, then, as one, they turned their attention back to Paul.

“Alright listen up,” Jessica said, her voice dripping with cruel authority. “Since you're trapped and at our mercy, we've decided to give you a special treat. Each of us wants a rimjob, and you're going to give it to us, got it?”

Paul's didn’t want to stick his tongue anywhere near their backsides, but he knew better than to argue. The three women loomed over him and he could still smell their pungent aroma, even after the intense gassing they had subjected him to.

“If you say one word, or try to refuse, we'll kick you so hard in the balls that you'll be tasting them for a week,” Ivy warned, cracking her knuckles menacingly. “So you'd better be a good little rim jobber and do exactly as we say, understand?”

Paul swallowed hard, his mouth dry with fear and dread. He knew he had no choice but to obey, no matter how degrading and repulsive he found the task. Jessica reached down to remove the tape sealing his mouth and pulled the soaked socks out of his mouth.

After having his mouth free, the three women turned around and bent over, presenting their ripe, dirty butts to him once more. The musky, foul scent of their assholes filled the air, and Paul knew he would soon be tasting them.

Jessica went first, grinding her sweaty, musky asshole against Paul's face as she sat, smearing her stink across his features. “Get that tongue in there, you little shit-licker,” she demanded, pushing her asshole harder against his mouth. “I want to feel you slurping and probing in my ass crack.”

Paul had no choice but to comply, sticking out his tongue and pushing it past the tight ring of Jessica's anus. The taste was overwhelming, a pungent mix of stale sweat, old feces, and the lingering flavor of pure funk. He had to fight back the urge to gag as he licked and probed her deep, pushing his tongue in as far as he could reach. Jessica felt her stomach gurgle and let loose a few farts while his tongue was in deep inside much to the amusement of all three girls. The echoing sound of her gas filling his mouth was the only sound in the room. Paul had to hold back from throwing up from the taste as he serviced her for nearly twenty minutes taking several more blasts as he licked.

After Jessica had her fill of Paul's oral servitude, she moved aside to let Ivy take her place. Ivy's asshole was even riper, the scent more intense from her lack of hygiene . She grabbed Paul's hair, holding his face tight against her musky cheeks as she demanded, “Worship my asshole, you little bitch. Lick it clean until there's not a trace of shit left.”

Paul had no choice but to obey, as Ivy burried his nose and mouth deep into her ass crack as she settled down on-top. The taste was even more putrid, a noxious mix of old, stale excrement and the cloying scent of her unwashed body. He had to fight back waves of nausea as he lapped and slurped at her tight hole, pushing his tongue in as deep as he could reach. Ivy only let a few farts go during her turn but each was torture to his tastebuds. Ivy started moaning from the pleasure and seemed very relaxed making him lap at her hole for a full thirty minutes. She appeared to be on the brink of orgasm the entire time as Amy became more aroused as well.

Finally, it was Amy's turn. “I want you to eat my ass like it's your last fucking meal,”Amy growled, lining up his mouth with her asshole. “Get your tongue in there deep and lick it clean, you little shit-sucking whore.” Paul licked and stuck his tongue as deep as he could. Each girls ass tasted terrible but each in a different way. Amy might have been the worst but she seemed to get the most enjoyment out of it. She stayed over a half hour enjoying the feeling of dominance and couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Paul tried to focus on the ceiling but Amy’s blonde hair was swishing above him not letting him focus. He could feel the wetness of her cumming on his face, as she moaned and shook above him. He lost count but she might have came five times.

After subjecting Paul to their sadistic rimjob demands, Jessica, Ivy, and Amy wanted to take a break and relax a bit.

“Alright, we’re taking a break,” Jessica declared, looking down at Paul with a cruel smirk. “But that doesn’t mean you get to. We're going to put on a movie and relax, and you're going to stay trapped nicely with your face between our feet and give our soles a gentle lick throughout the whole thing. We want them clean by the time the movies over too.”

The three women settled onto the couch, spreading out and propping their bare feet up on the smother box, hovering them over Paul's face. He could smell the pungent aroma of their sweaty, smelly soles, a mix of their natural musk and the lingering odor of their asses still on his face.

“I don’t care if you’re tired keep that tongue moving” Ivy warned, wiggling her toes inches from Paul's nose. “If you stop, you'll regret it.” With that she grabbed the TV remote and queued up a movie. The room grew dark and the flickering light of the TV illuminated the three pairs of bare feet dangling above Paul's face. Throughout the film, he was forced to keep his tongue busy, lapping gently at the sweaty, musky soles as ordered, all while inhaling the heady, ripe scent of the girls' unwashed feet.

The movie played on, but Paul's world remained focused on the task at hand - worshipping the three women's feet with his tongue as they lounged and relaxed above him. He could hear the movie but didn’t get to watch a single second with feet constantly obstructing his view. Sometimes one of the girls would pause the movie and make them rewatch a scene making Paul even more frustrated. Other times one of the girls would push their toes in his mouth and he knew that was his cue to suck though we wasn’t always sure whose toes he was cleaning. After their over two hour foot licking session of a movie the girls were getting tired and decided to unlock him and sent him back home still caged. Paul didn’t say a word as he quietly dressed before walking the 100 feet to where he lived.

“See you next Friday,” Ivy reminded him as he walked out the door, “Same time. Every Friday is going to be Girls Night from now on.”


PART 3

Months had passed since Paul first knocked to ask the girls to turn down their music, a moment he regretted almost every day. Jessica, Ivy, and Amy had made it a weekly tradition to gather at Ivy's apartment for their special brand of girl's night. Every Friday evening, they would arrive eager to subject Paul to their twisted games and depraved whims.

Over the weeks, the trio had come up with an endless array of ways to torment their helpless captive. The smother box had become a staple, with Paul spending hours at a time trapped beneath the sweaty, stinking asses of the three women as they took turns unleashing their putrid fumes upon him. They delighted in sealing his nose and mouth with their musky holes, forcing him to inhale their ripe, pungent stink until he saw spots and teetered on the brink of passing out.

Every once and while, Ivy would stop by Paul's apartment unannounced, letting herself in with the spare key she had forced him to give her. She would find him, strip naked, and demand that he service her filthy, unwashed asshole with his tongue. Paul had no choice but to obey, burying his face between her cheeks and lapping at her tight, dirty hole until she was satisfied. The taste of her stale, sweaty asshole and the pungent aroma that filled his nostrils became all too familiar to him.

As the summer heat wave rolled in, the three women grew more eager than ever to torment their pathetic plaything. The sweltering temperatures seemed to amplify the ripe, musky scent of their bodies, making Paul's weekly ordeals all the more unbearable. They reveled in the way he would gag and retch as he inhaled their potent, pungent stink, knowing that they held complete power over him.

It was a sweltering June Friday afternoon as Jessica, Ivy, and Amy lounged around Ivy's apartment, fanning themselves in the oppressive heat. They had gathered for their weekly girl's night, but the usual anticipation was tinged with a hint of restlessness. The summer heat seemed to be getting to them, making their already cruel demeanors even more irritable.

“I'm so sick of this damn city in the summer,” Jessica complained, wiping sweat from her brow. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get away for a while?”

“I know what you mean,” Amy chimed in, fanning herself with a magazine. “I was thinking, what if we go on a camping trip this weekend? Get out of this hellhole and into some real nature, you know?”

Ivy nodded, considering the idea. “A long weekend, just the three of us? That sounds amazing. We could go hiking, sit by the fire under the stars, really get away from it all.”

The three women chattered excitedly about the prospect, already imagining the peaceful, rejuvenating getaway. But then, Jessica's brow furrowed as a thought occurred to her. “Wait, but what about our special Friday nights with Paul?”

Ivy and Amy paused, realizing the same thing. Their weekly ritual with their pathetic plaything had become a fixture, a source of entertainment and stress relief. The idea of missing it, even for just one week, was unappealing.

After a moment, Ivy smirked, an idea forming in her mind. “I've got it,” she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Why don't we bring him with us?”

Jessica and Amy stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter, the cruelty of the idea sinking in. “You mean like, as our servant? To wait on us hand and foot?” Jessica asked, extending her leg and wiggling her toes to emphasize the pun.

“Exactly,” Ivy said with a nod. “Think about it - he can set up camp, cook for us, and of course...” She paused for effect. “Keep us entertained, if you know what I mean.”

“Let's go tell our little bitch the good news,” Jessica said, standing up from the couch. “I want to see the look on his face when he finds out he's coming with us.”

Ivy and Amy quickly followed suit, getting up and heading for the door. They walked the short distance to Paul's apartment and without knocking, Ivy used her key to unlock the door and the three women let themselves inside.

They found Paul in his living room, looking up at them warily as they approached. He could see the cruel intentions on their faces and his heart sank, knowing that whatever they had in store for him, it wouldn't be pleasant.

“Hey, worm,” Jessica said, looming over him. “We have some big news for you. Pack your shit, because you're coming camping with us this weekend.”

Paul's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. “What? But I can't just...” he started to protest, only to be cut off by Ivy's harsh glare.

“You don't have a choice,” she snapped. “We own you, remember? And we want our own personal servant to wait on us. So pack a fucking bag and be ready to go in an hour.”

Paul knew he was trapped, with no way out of the situation. Dejectedly, he nodded, already knowing he would have to endure God knows what torments at the hands of these three sadistic bitches. Amy smirked down at him, enjoying the look of resigned misery on his face.

“Don't worry, we'll make sure you have plenty to do,” she purred. “Plenty of chances to service us, even in the great outdoors. Isn't that exciting?”

As Paul began to pack, the girls set off to make their final preparations for the camping trip. They had left Paul in a daze, his mind reeling at the prospect of being at their mercy for an entire weekend in the wilderness.

Jessica headed straight for her garage, where she kept her old camping gear. She dusted off her beat-up tent, knowing that Paul would be the one to assemble it at their campsite. The thought of having their pathetic servant at their beck and call, even in the middle of nowhere, filled her with sadistic glee.

Meanwhile, Amy stopped at a store on her way home to pick up supplies. She filled a cart with food, snacks, and plenty of booze to keep herself and her friends lubricated and in high spirits throughout the weekend. She quickly packed the cooler and threw it in her trunk.

Back at her apartment, Ivy had a different priority. She headed straight to the closet where she kept the smother box, already imagining the delicious agony she would put their captive through as she sat on his face after a rigorous sweaty hike. She knew the heat would make the stink of her ripe asshole all the more potent and overwhelming for the poor bastard. Ivy couldn't wait to hear him choke and gag as he struggled for air beneath her and the oppressive weight of her ass.

Each of the women texted the others as they finished their preparations, eager to rendezvous back at Ivy’s place.

A short while later the three women returned to Paul's apartment, ready to embark on their twisted camping trip. Jessica led the way, with Ivy and Amy following close behind, their arms laden with food and supplies.

“Alright, worm, let's go,” Jessica barked, ushering Paul out of his apartment and down to the parking lot. They decided to take Jessica’s SUV, knowing it would give them the most space to bring what they wanted.

As they approached the vehicle, Paul hung his head, resigning himself to his fate. He watched as Jessica tossed his meager belongings into the back, and he climbed into one of the back seats.

Ivy made her way into the passenger seat, eager to guide Jessica to her old camping spot. She had fond memories of that place, and couldn't wait to make some new ones with her friends and their pathetic plaything.

As Amy slid into the backseat beside Paul, she made a point of turning to face him and lifted her feet and planted them squarely on Paul's lap. She used her heels to push off her ratty sneakers which she had been wearing without socks.

“Rub them,” she commanded, wiggling her toes. “I want to feel your pathetic hands massaging my feet the whole fucking drive.”

Paul reached his hands to grasp Amy's feet. They were already hot and slightly damp from the summer heat, the scent of her sweaty skin filling his nostrils.

“That's not fair,” Ivy complained from the front seat, watching the scene unfold in the rearview mirror. “I want a foot rub too!”

Amy just shrugged, smirking at her friend. “There will be plenty of time over the weekend,” she said with a wink. “Don't worry, our little buddy will be keeping all of us happy.”

With that, Jessica started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, eager to get to their destination and begin their twisted weekend of camping and torment.

After over an hour of driving, Jessica parked her SUV in a small clearing just off the road, the trees already dense and tall around them. Ivy consulted her old, crumpled map before pointing to a narrow trail winding into the woods.

“This way,” she declared, grabbing her backpack and stepping out of the car.

Jessica and Amy followed suit, stretching their legs after the drive. Paul exited the backseat reluctantly, Amy's lingering foot stink still fresh in his nose and over his hands.

The four of them gathered their belongings, with Paul ending up with the bulk of the supplies. He strained under the weight, his arms trembling as he hoisted the heavy packs onto his shoulders. The girls watched him struggle, amused by his weakness and patheticness.

“Come on, hurry up,” Ivy snapped impatiently as Paul staggered with the load. “The campsite is only a mile from here, but the trail is winding.”

She led the way, with Jessica following close behind. Amy brought up the rear, occasionally giving Paul a smack on the ass if he seemed to be slowing down. As they hiked deeper into the woods, the air grew thicker and more humid, the summer heat oppressive under the dense canopy of leaves.

Paul's shirt was soaked with sweat within minutes, his face flushed and reddened. He panted and groaned as he climbed over rocks and roots, the heavy packs threatening to pull him off balance. The girls paid no mind to his discomfort, too focused on their own conversation and anticipation of the weekend ahead.

After a grueling mile-long hike up the steep, winding trail, the four of them finally emerged into a picturesque clearing. Ivy beamed with pride as her friends took in the sight of her old camping spot, just as breathtaking as she remembered.

A small, crystal-clear pond sat in the center of the clearing, its tranquil surface reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The grass was lush and green, dotted with colorful wildflowers swaying gently in the warm breeze. It was the perfect place to spend a weekend getting away from it all.

“This is amazing, Ivy,” Jessica said, setting down her pack and taking in the serene beauty surrounding them. “You found the perfect spot.”

Ivy just smiled, already envisioning the debauchery and torment she would put Paul through in this secluded paradise. Amy, never one to stand still for too long, was already gathering up branches and sticks, eager to start a fire.

“Alright, worm, get to work,” Jessica demanded, turning to Paul. “Set up the tent. And make it quick, I don't want to be waiting around all day.”

Paul knew better than to argue, so he began to unpack the heavy tent and begin the process of assembling it according to Jessica's impatient demands. Meanwhile, Ivy and Amy busied themselves gathering firewood, their laughter and chatter filling the peaceful air of the clearing.

Paul worked diligently to set up the tent, his hands shaking slightly as he struggled to secure the last few poles. Jessica watched him closely, her arms crossed over her chest as she critiqued his every move.

“About time,” she scoffed as he finally finished, the tent standing tall and sturdy in the clearing. “Now hurry up and put our stuff inside.”

As Paul began transferring their belongings into the tent, Ivy followed inside and kicked off her old, well worn sneakers which she wore all day barefoot. The pungent scent of her sweaty feet filled the air. She had been looking forward to a foot rub since the car ride, and now that they were finally at the campsite, she was determined to get what she wanted.

“Now that I got you alone,” Ivy called out, sticking her bare feet in Paul’s direction. “My feet got a little sweaty from the car ride and that hike. I think I want a tongue bath instead of a hand rub now. Come over here and get to work.”

Paul gulped nervously as he crawled over to Ivy, the heat and stink of Ivy's ripe feet hitting him like a wall. He could see the specks of dirt and grime caked between her toes, the skin of her soles glistening with sweat. Steeling himself, he leaned forward and began to run his tongue along the arch of her foot, his nose wrinkling at the overwhelming musk.

Ivy let out a low moan of satisfaction, pushing her foot harder against Paul's face as he licked and slurped at her sweaty skin. Punishing Paul had quickly become one of the biggest turn-ons for her. The taste was strong and pungent, the salt and dirt clinging to his tongue as he worked his way up to her toes.

Meanwhile, Jessica and Amy were busy unpacking the rest of their supplies outside the tent, their conversation punctuated by Ivy's occasional gasp or sigh of pleasure.

As Paul diligently licked and slurped at Ivy's sweaty, pungent feet, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice, the obscene sounds of her pleasure echoed through the tent. Jessica and Amy paused in their unpacking, exchanging jealous glances as they heard their friend's blissful sighs and moans.

“Sounds like Ivy's having all the fun in there,” Jessica said, “We should go join her, don't you think? Make sure our little servant is doing a thorough job.”

Amy grinned, already reaching to open the tent flap. “Absolutely,” she agreed.

With that, Jessica and Amy crawled into the tent, the flap falling closed behind them. They found Ivy lounging on her back, her bare feet in Paul's face as he worked diligently to clean and lick every inch of her skin.

Jessica and Amy settled themselves on either side of Ivy, both stripping off their own shoes with eager smiles. Paul wasn’t happy to see none of the girls decided to wear socks today. They held out their bare feet, the combined stink of the three women's sweaty, unwashed feet filling the close quarters of the tent.

“Alright we’re going to relax and you are going to run that tongue of yours all over our feet,” Jessica demanded, pushing her foot against his face. “You don't stop until we tell you to.”

Paul had no choice but to obey, switching his focus to Jessica's foot. He ran his tongue along the sole, tasting the salt and grime that clung to her skin. The flavor was strong and pungent, not unlike Ivy's, and he had to fight back the urge to gag.

As he worked, he could feel the three women's eyes on him, watching his every move. They wiggled their toes against his chin, smearing their musk across his face, marking him with their scent.

“Don't forget about mine,” Amy said, pushing her own foot against your other cheek. The combined stink of the three women's feet was overwhelming, filling your nose and throat with a thick, heady aroma.

Paul switched to licking Amy's foot, his tongue tracing the lines and curves of her sole. The taste was just as ripe and potent as the others, the skin slick with sweat and grime.

For hours, he knelt there, his jaw aching from the unnatural position as he lapped and slurped at the women's feet. The tent grew stuffy and hot, the air thick with the musky scent of their unwashed skin.

As the sun began to set the women grew drowsy, their eyelids heavy with sleep, but they made no move to stop Paul's tongue bath. Instead, they shifted and settled, using his face as a makeshift footrest as they drifted off to sleep one by one.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jessica let out a soft snore, followed shortly after by Ivy and then Amy. Paul, his tongue sore and throat raw from the constant licking, carefully extracted himself from under their feet and crawled to the foot of the tent.

He curled up there, his face burning with humiliation and exhaustion as he listened to the soft sounds of the three women's breathing.

As the sun rose over the tranquil pond, the gentle light filtering through the tent's fabric roused the three women from their slumber. They stretched languidly, their muscles aching slightly from their night on the hard ground. Jessica was the first to sit up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“I'm starving,” she groaned, “Amy, didn't you bring any snacks?”

Amy, already rummaging through her backpack, looked up with a grin. “Plenty of dried apricots, and some of those protein bars we used a few times. We'll be farting all day, but at least we won't go hungry.”

The other two women nodded in approval, their stomachs rumbling at the thought of food. They began to snack on the gas-inducing treats, already feeling the first rumbles of impending flatulence.

As they ate and chattered, they took no notice of Paul, still curled up and sleeping at the foot of the tent. Suddenly, Jessica kicked him lightly with her foot, not enough to really hurt but enough to startle him awake.

“Wake up, bitch,” she snapped, “We're going for a hike and you're coming with us. I want you to carry my backpack with some drinks, and anything else we need.”

Paul blinked in the bright morning light, his eyes gritty and sore from his restless sleep. He knew better than to argue, so he slowly got to his feet and reached for Jessica's backpack after she grabbed three waters out of the cooler.

The three women gathered their own belongings, double-checking that they had everything they needed for a long trek through the woods. They paid no mind to Paul's exhaustion, too focused on their own agenda to consider his comfort. They all slipped their dirty shoes back on their feet which all were still damp with sweat from the previous day.

As they stepped out of the tent and into the bright sunlight, Jessica turned to Paul with a cruel smirk. “Stay close,” she warned, “And don't you dare complain. This is going to be a long day.”

The four of them set off down a well-worn trail, the dirt path winding through the dense forest. The trees towered above them, their leaves rustling gently in the warm breeze. Paul trudged along behind the three women, his body still aching from his uncomfortable sleep.

They walked almost a mile, the sun climbing higher in the sky as the morning wore on. The girls chattered and laughed, pointing out interesting plants or animals they spotted along the way. Paul remained silent, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the ache in his muscles.

Suddenly, Amy let out a soft grunt, a look of discomfort crossing her face. She stopped in her tracks, her hand pressed to her stomach. “I'm feeling a bit...gassy,” she muttered, glancing back at Paul. “Drop that pack and get on the ground. Now!”

Paul ready to comply, quickly lowered the backpack to the forest floor. He laid down on his back, the dirt and leaves crunching beneath his shoulders. Before he could even take a breath, Amy had yanked down her shorts and straddled his face, her bare ass hovering inches above him.

“Open your mouth,” she commanded, and before he could protest, she released a long, loud fart directly between his lips. The stench was overwhelming, the pungent smell of the dried apricots and gas-inducing snacks filling his nose and mouth.

But Amy was just getting started. She sat down harder, grinding her ass against his face as she let out a series of short, sharp farts. The noise was obscene, the sound of her asshole opening and closing inches from Paul's ears.

Jessica and Ivy watched with amusement, their own stomachs rumbling ominously as they listened to the show.

As Amy continued to sit on Paul's face, grunting and farting loudly, the sound of footsteps on the trail caught the attention of the group. Jessica and Ivy turned to see two young women approaching, their hair glistening in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

Emma, with her fiery auburn locks, and Celia, whose blonde tresses seemed to shimmer with a golden hue, walked towards them with surprised but amused expressions. They were both in their early twenties, dressed in hiking gear that hugged their toned, athletic figures.

“Well, hello there,” Emma greeted, her green eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of Amy's bare ass hovering over Paul's face. “We didn't expect to run into anyone else out here. I'm Emma, and this is my sister Celia. We're just out for a hike and a little adventure in nature.”

Celia smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she too stared at the lewd display before them. “Quite the adventure you seem to be having there,” she remarked, making no effort to hide her amusement. “Though I must say, that's a sight I don't see every day on the trail.”

Jessica and Ivy looked at each other, then back at the two newcomers, happy that the two strangers seemed okay with the current events. "I’m Jessica and this is Ivy," Jessica said, "And this is our friend Amy sitting here and our...servant Paul. We brought to help with, well, whatever we need. And right now its filtering Amy’s farts.”

Emma and Celia leaned in closer, their eyes fixed on Paul's predicament. Amy showed no sign of moving, her ass still grinding against his face as she let out another loud, ripe fart. The two newcomers exchanged giggles before Emma spoke up.

“It looks like you girls have a pretty sweet deal worked out with this guy,” Emma said, nodding towards Paul. “We have something similar with our neighbor Luke. He's kind of our servant too, always ready to lend a helping hand...or in this case, a helping face.”

Celia chuckled, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah, Luke's always eager to please us, just like it seems your boy toy here is.”

Amy finally lifted her ass off Paul's face, giving him a moment to gasp for air.

Amy, still naked from the waist down, turned to face the two newcomers as she caught her breath from grinding. “We got camp set up about a mile south of here. Are you girls camping out too?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Emma and Celia nodded in unison. “Yeah, we've set up camp not too far from here,” Celia replied, “Just a short hike up the trail, in a little clearing by a big oak tree. Not the best spot but it works.”

Ivy's eyes lit up at this news, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Wow, that's amazing,” she said, “We're camped out in a clearing too, with a beautiful pond right in the middle of it. You guys should come join us there!”

“You know what, that does sound like an amazing spot,” she said, “And it would be great to hang out with you girls more. But moving our whole camp...that's a lot of work.”

Jessica and Amy exchanged a look, then turned to Paul who was still lying on the ground, trying his best to blend into the background. “Don't worry about it,” Jessica said with a dismissive wave, “Paul can handle it. He's our servant, after all. He can pack up your tents and help carry everything over for you guys.”

Paul's heart sank at the prospect of even more work, but he knew better than to protest especially now being outnumbered five to one. He simply nodded, resigned to his fate as the girls' pack mule and servant.

Emma and Celia led the group back down the trail towards their temporary campsite. As they walked, the women fell into an easy conversation, laughing and joking like they had known each other for years. Paul trudged along behind them, his shoulders slumped in resignation at the prospect of the work ahead.

Upon arriving at the small clearing where Emma and Celia had set up their camp, the group took stock of the gear and supplies they had brought with them. There were two small tents, sleeping bags, camp chairs, a portable stove, and various other camping essentials scattered about.

“Alright, let's start packing this stuff up,” Jessica said eager to get the work out of the way, clapping her hands together. “Paul, you take the tents. They're the bulkiest, so they'll be the hardest to carry.”

Paul nodded, beginning to disassemble the tents with efficient motions. The other girls pitched in, rolling up sleeping bags and gathering up the smaller items. Together, they worked to break down the camp, with Paul shouldering the heaviest loads.

As they made their way back down the trail towards Ivy’s secret campsite, Paul struggled under the weight of the two large, stuffed packs containing the tents. The trail seemed to stretch on forever, the packs growing heavier with each passing step. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes and soaking through his shirt.

Every so often, one of the girls would take a pack from Paul's shoulders, giving him a brief but welcome respite. All the girls took turns carrying the smaller items, their arms straining but their spirits high. They chattered and laughed, enjoying the treat of having someone new to share in their adventures.

As the group finally arrived back at the picturesque camp by the pond, the girls immediately set about unpacking and setting up their new shared campsite. The clearing was indeed beautiful, with a tranquil pond nestled in the center and tall, green trees encircling the perimeter.

“I'm absolutely starving,” Ivy declared as she began rummaging through the food supply. “Let's make some supper. I've got a few big cans of baked beans, and I think Jessica has some chips. Oh, and beer too!”

Jessica nodded, pulling out a case of beer packed in ice and a bag of chips. “Sounds like the perfect camp meal to me. Simple, filling, and delicious.”

The girls worked together to get a fire started, with Paul assisting as needed. Once the flames were licking at the bottom of the pot, they dumped the contents of the bean cans inside, the savory aroma beginning to waft through the air.

As the beans heated, the girls cracked open beers and munched on chips, their hunger and thirst slowly abating. They lounged on the picnic blankets and camp chairs strewn about the clearing, enjoying the warm evening air and each other's company.

The aroma of the heating baked beans filled the air, making their stomachs rumble in anticipation. As they waited for their meal to finish cooking, the girls fell into an animated conversation, comparing notes on their respective servants.

“So how did you two end up with Paul?” Emma asked, taking a swig of her beer. “He seems so well behaved. Did you just decide one day that you needed a personal servant?”

Ivy chuckled, shaking her head. “Not quite. He was always an annoying neighbor but this past winter he came over to complain about the noise and we just decided to take charge. He interrupted our girls night and we couldn't resist making him our own personal boy toy.”

Jessica piped up, grinning wickedly. “Since then every Friday is girls' night at Ivy’s place. We make Paul sniff and lick our assholes and feet until we're satisfied. It's the perfect way to relax and bond as friends.”

Emma and Celia burst out laughing. “That sounds amazing,” Celia said, "Luke's been doing the same thing for us. He moved in next door a few months ago, and we just...well, we made him our plaything. Poor guy never stood a chance."

The two groups fell into an easy camaraderie, bonding over their shared love of dominating and humiliating their personal servants. They laughed and gossiped like old friends, completely forgetting about Paul's presence as he sat quietly nearby.

Suddenly, Ivy turned to Emma and Celia with a mischievous grin. “You two should totally come to our next girls' night! Wouldn’t be that far of a drive. We'll make Paul service all five of us. It'll be a blast! We do it every Friday night. You wouldn’t mind would you Paul?" Paul didn’t know what to say but before he gathered his thoughts he was cut off by the two new girls.

Emma and Celia looked at each other, then nodded eagerly. “Absolutely, count us in,” Emma said, “And hey, maybe you guys should stop over and pay Luke a visit sometime too. I'm sure he'd love to meet you girls. We can just tell him he has to host a few of our friends.”

The girls toasted to their new friendship, the beer sloshing in their cans as they clinked them together. All the while, Paul sat forgotten in the background, nothing more than a silent spectator to their scheming and plotting.

As the girls continued their animated conversation, the topic of the impending digestive consequences of their bean-heavy meal inevitably came up. They laughed and groaned in anticipation, knowing full well the gassy fate that awaited them.

“Oh man, I can already feel my stomach churning,” Ivy remarked, rubbing her middle. “These beans are going to wreak havoc on us later.”

Emma and Celia exchanged a glance, then Emma spoke up. “Speaking of digestive issues, Celia and I are both lactose intolerant. Beer and beans are bad but dairy is our worst enemy. Thats what we use when we want to punish Luke.” she said with a wry smile.

At this news, Amy's eyes lit up with a wicked gleam.”Oh, thats perfect!” she said, jumping to her feet, “I brought some milk for breakfast. It’s in the cooler. Help yourselves, girls.”

Without hesitation, Amy made her way over to the cooler. She rummaged around inside, pulling out a gallon of whole milk. “Jackpot,” she said, holding it up triumphantly.

She grabbed a handful of cups from the supplies nearby and began to pour the milk, filling each one to the brim. The other girls watched with amusement, already imagining the chaos that would soon be ensuing.

Paul sat quietly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized the potential ramifications of the girls' impending dairy and bean binge. He knew all too well the power of their flatulent fury, and he braced himself for the long, gassy night ahead.

As the girls dug into the hearty serving of baked beans, chips, and beer, their conversation flowed as freely as the alcohol. Jessica suddenly stopped mid-bite, a thought striking her. “Hey, I almost forgot,” she said, setting her cup down, “We brought the smother box with us. I'll go grab it from the tent.”

Emma and Celia looked at each other, their curiosity piqued. “A smother box?” Celia asked, “What's that?”

Jessica grinned mischievously. “You'll see. It's a game changer for keeping Paul here in line. I'll be right back.”

She disappeared into their tent, leaving the others to speculate about the mysterious object. A minute later, Jessica emerged holding a large, padded box with an opening cut out on one side and one on too just big enough for a face to fit through.

“Check it out,” she said, setting the box down in the middle of the group. “We got this for our Girl’s nights. We use it to keep Paul in line. His hands are cuffed to the side and his face cant twist or turn away. It's the perfect way to make him suffer while we have our fun.”

Emma and Celia leaned in, examining the padded interior and the opening designed for a face. Their eyes widened as they imagined the possibilities.

“That's genius,” Emma said, turning to Celia with an excited grin. “We need to get one of these for Luke. It would be perfect for our next playdate with him.”

Celia nodded eagerly, “Definitely. Poor Luke won't know what hit him. It'll be hilarious to watch him squirm and struggle in there while we torment him.”

As the girls finished their meal they turned their attention to Paul, who had been sitting quietly nearby. Ivy spoke up first, “Hey Paul, did you get enough to eat? Or do you need to use the bathroom or something?” She said showing the slightest bit of care for him.

Paul hesitated, debating his options. A part of him considered making a run for it, disappearing into the woods and leaving this nightmare behind. But he quickly dismissed the idea - he'd be hopelessly lost in the dense forest, and even if he did manage to escape, he still lived just feet away from Ivy. There was no true escape from his fate.

With a resigned sigh, Paul stood up slowly. “No, I'm fine. I don't need anything,” he said softly, making his way back to the group.

The girls, now tipsy and excited from the beer and each other's company, fell into a heated discussion. Jessica turned to Emma and Celia, “Hey, either of you want to donate one of your sweaty socks to gag Paul? I'm not in the mood to hear him complain about the smell of our farts.”

Emma and Celia both nodded eagerly. “Our socks are soaked from all this walking, but definitely,” Celia said, already peeling off her sweat-drenched sock.

“I think theres room for two,” Emma added, doing the same. They balled up the damp, pungent fabric and approached Paul, who tried to shrink back in disgust.

Amy, always prepared, grabbed a roll of duct tape from her bag. “I've got just the thing to keep his mouth shut,” she said with a wicked grin.

The girls forced the balled up, sweat-soaked socks into Paul's mouth, the pungent taste of Emma and Celia's feet filling his senses. Before he could spit them out, Amy tore off a strip of tape and plastered it over his lips, sealing the socks (and his complaints) firmly in place.

Paul gagged and retched, but the girls just laughed, delighted with their handiwork. They could already imagine the long, miserable night of gassy torment that awaited him, with no way to escape.

Ivy, feeling tipsy and buzzing with wicked ideas, suddenly declared, “Alright girls, it's time to set up the smother box! Let's get this show on the road.”

The other girls cheered in agreement, their own minds swimming with anticipation of the delicious torment they had planned for Paul. They helped Ivy carry a thick blanket over to the center of the clearing and spread it out on the ground. Next, Jessica grabbed the padded box and placed it squarely in the middle of the blanket. The opening for Paul's face gaped like a dark, hungry maw, eagerly awaiting its fleshy prize.

Paul, still gagged with the pungent socks and duct tape, tried to shrink back as the girls advanced on him. They grabbed him roughly, dragging him towards the waiting box.

“Strip him down,” Amy ordered, already tugging at Paul's shirt. The other girls eagerly joined in, tearing off his clothes until he stood before them nude except his chastity cage.

With Paul now vulnerable and exposed, Ivy and Celia each took an arm and a leg, while Jessica and Emma grabbed the remaining limbs. They wrestled Paul down onto the blanket, his struggles futile against their drunken strength and determination.

Once they had him positioned, Ivy and Celia shoved Paul's head inside. They closed the lid and latched it. His face popped through the opening, eyes wide with fear and the tape pulling at his skin.

Paul didn’t know who was grabbing his arms but felt them being forced to the side of the box as they tightened the straps, securing Paul’s wrist. Ivy grinned down at him."Comfortable?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

As the girls finished strapping Paul into the position, Emma noticed the unmistakable bulge of the chastity cage prominently displayed on his exposed lower half. Her curiosity piqued, she pointed and asked, “Hey, what's that thing on Paul's dick? Is that some kind of... cage?”

Amy grinned, a wicked glint in her eye as she replied, “Yep, that's Paul's chastity cage. It keeps him nice and obedient, you know? Makes sure he doesn't go around touching himself or anything stupid like that.”

Celia leaned in closer, examining the cage with a critical eye. “Clever,” she said, nodding, “We should get Luke one of those too. It would be perfect for keeping him in line during our playdates. Plus imagine how much we could tease him!”

Emma nodded eagerly in agreement, “Definitely. The cage is a great idea.”

Meanwhile, Paul squirmed uncomfortably in the smother box, as he struggled weakly against the straps binding him. His face flushed red with humiliation at the thought of being discussed and judged so casually by these cruel, beautiful tormentors.

The girls huddled around the smother box, peering down at Paul's flushed and anxious face as he strained against the straps holding him firmly in place. Amy and Jessica grinned at each other, then turned to Emma and Celia.

“You two should go first,” Amy said, gesturing to the new additions to their group. “Seeing as you're new friends, it's only fair that you get the first shot at sitting on our boy toy's ugly mug.”

Jessica nodded in agreement, “Definitely. Plus, I want to see how you handle him. Maybe you've got some tricks up your sleeves that we haven't thought of yet.”

Emma and Celia exchanged an excited grin, already imagining the power and control they would have sitting atop Paul's helpless face. They could feel the heat rising in their cores at the thought of smothering him with their most intimate parts.

“Sounds perfect,” Celia said, standing up and starting to undo her jeans. “Let's give this loser a night he’ll never forget.”

Emma followed suit, lifting her own hips to shimmy out of her pants and revealing the lacy panties underneath. The two girls kicked off their jeans and moved closer to the box, each taking a side.

Paul shook his head frantically only moving a fraction of an inch while trying to protest through the gag of socks and tape, but it was too late. He could smell the scent of the two sisters as they each took a spot pressing their ass cheeks against his face.