By: Darkbowser21
Walking along the road to the Citadel, Hornet lamented her current condition. She’d been traveling almost nonstop for ages, with few chances to rest and even less to properly meet her needs. Her feet were aching and sore from the day’s travel, and she felt as disgusting as she smelled. She hadn’t been able to bathe in what must have been more than a week now, leaving her drenched in greasy, grimy sweat, each ounce of perspiration packed with the filth coating her body. The worst of it was between her gigantic, wobbling ass cheeks, her crack such a deathly swamp it put Bilewater to shame. Each of the many steps she took caused her ass to quake, which in turn shook off beads of sweat, leaving a light trail behind her.
The amount of moisture created a nigh insatiable itch that no amount of digging could ever relieve, but she did have one cure, even if it was the result of another of her journey’s curses. Approximately none of the food she’d managed to scrounge up on her journey had agreed with her, leaving her stomach endlessly bubbling. She wanted to avoid being a complete cloud of walking miasma, but the brew within her guts still occasionally forced its way out, the pressure needing to be eased despite her reservations. The force of her blasts fluttered her cloak and caused sweat to spray out, creating the occasional larger patch of caustic corruption on the ground behind her, but it did at least provide some reprieve, even if only temporarily.
Feeling as though her journey might never end, Hornet’s mood shifted when respite presented itself in the form of a bench. The opportunity to take even a moment to rest was long since overdue, but her spirits were quickly drained once she saw what was on it. Laid across the fixture was Lace, taking up the entire length and leaving no room for anyone else, much less Hornet herself. With Lace having already proven to be a nuisance in the past, Hornet was less than pleased to see her. Unwilling to have her hopes dashed so easily and determined to finally rest her legs, she approached the resting insect to confront her.
“Lace! What is the meaning of this?”
“O-oh, H-Hornet, how… funny, to see you here…”
“I should say! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Why, resting, of course.”
“Which requires the entire bench for you to do so? What are you really doing? Is this some sort of poorly conceived trick?”
“I… will admit, I was planning to ambush you, but something struck me, and I am finding myself… rather indisposed.”
“Are…” concern crept into Hornet’s voice, worry slipping through despite their history. “Are you ill?”
“You shall not be rid of me that easily spider, but I am unable to move… and yet despite that, I have still outpaced you.”
“Hmph. More like you won’t, brat.”
“W-what?”
Closing the distance to better give her a piece of her mind, Hornet angrily approached the lethargic Lace, who remained as she was, but still showed quite the strong reaction to Hornet’s newfound proximity.
“Ugh! What foul winds enshroud you,” Lace said with a haughty sneer. “Your stench is almost as bad as your dueling.”
Her temper broken, Hornet was caught off guard by Lace’s sudden comment. She rushed to try and defend herself, only for her to interrupt once more.
“What!? I-”
“My, and those hips are laughably excessive- I wager no bench in Pharloom could handle your mass! Skitter along now and await my recovery. I do not envy whatever your accursed backside ends up resting upon.”
Lace’s insults proving to be more effective than she would have liked to admit, Hornet did her best to brush them off and calm herself.
“I do not know what you seek to gain from these games, but insults will get you nowhere. If you do not wish to duel, so be it, but at least have the courtesy of civility and permit me to rest.”
“I assure you, if I could get up I would. It seems this is a rather unfortunate predicament for the both of us; me arguably more so. I am only sorry that I cannot fan away your stench, though it is hard to say it does not fit you.”
“Your words only tell me that this is a pitiful excuse to attempt to inconvenience me. Your efforts to mock me prove equally pathetic. I shall have none of it. Fine then. You do not have to move. I will make myself comfortable regardless.”
Already sick of Lace and unwilling to let her get in her way, Hornet turned around and lifted her cloak, a small patch of the fabric snapping upward once it was tugged free from its ensnarement between her cheeks. It resulted in a flourished presentation of her fat, reeking, face smothering ass, with Lace getting a front row seat. She realized her mistake in taunting her far too late, the unbridled rot of her butt already unbearable. Hornet swiftly sat down, slamming it on Lace’s head and engulfing her in its dark, disgusting depths. She promptly protested once Hornet’s weight had been dropped on her, but did little to actually try and push her off. It seemed that, true to her word, there wasn’t much she could do to amend her situation, even if it just got substantially worse.
Finally off her feet, Hornet sank into her seat, more than ready to relax. She hadn’t fully realized just how exhausted she was, the simple act of sitting down wiping out what little remaining energy she had. Briefly adjusting her posture to make sure she was comfortable, she let herself succumb completely to her needs. She relaxed her whole body, the tensions and stress of the past week melting away, in more ways than one. No longer restricting herself, a low, crass stream of gas began to seep out of her and into Lace’s face, the tainted air struggling to work its way through her dense rear. Eventually getting past her cheeks, Lace was hit by the nose burning smell, far worse than the ambient aroma she had so far been subject too. It reeked like days old meat that was already past its prime before her infernal stomach had twisted it into something even more despicable. She made her increased discomfort known, trying to throw more insults at Hornet, but she paid her no mind, not caring how she felt and making no effort to stop her flow.
As she passively blew off steam, the pressure inside her so high her case of bubble guts essentially sorted itself out, Hornet realized that she was finally able to ease all of her burdens. She was already taking the time to recuperate, and considering the relative isolation she found herself in, there was absolutely no need to hold back. It’s not like she was in polite company. Gently pushing, she put a bit more force into her output and amped up the sound. A crass leak turned into sharp bursts, the beginnings of bubbles able to be picked out from her short but punchy patches of wind. Her pockets of pestilence got progressively longer as she focused more and more, the duration of each rip dragging on as she started to let out soft puffs and small huffs. The sound devolved further alongside her increasingly audible efforts, a rise in volume at one end corresponding with the same at the other. The sounds roaring out of her ranged from messy rippers to more condensed, harsh pops, all of it gradually getting louder as she let the ecstasy of letting loose wash over her. It eventually culminated in her letting out loud, girlish grunts as she unleashed wet, sloppy, thunderous farts.
Hornet continued to release her seemingly never ending supply of noxious, nose searing fumes, utterly sickening quantities of tainted air rushing through her guts. The sheer quantity she had already produced was utterly appalling, and all the while the air quality around her was tanking. A thick mist spilled out from between her ass and her fart cushion every time she let one rip, how abhorrent she smelled plainly visible. The once clean, crisp air was being gradually replaced by her revolting stench as she continued to cut loose. Her smog faded soon enough at first, but in her relentless output, slightly dirtied, disgusting yellow clouds began to form around her. Her influence spread further and further with every sputtering butt bomb, her palpable miasma having a tangible impact on the area surrounding her. The local flora couldn’t handle her horrid odor, blades of grass, increasingly large bits of shrubbery, and indeterminate creeping tendrils singeing, wilting, and curling away as it all reeled from her truly toxic fumes.
Cracking off another truly gag inducing monster, Hornet noticed something odd. She felt as though she could faintly hear the bench rattling through the obnoxious, deafening sound of her cheek jigging rippers, but the peculiar phenomenon only reared its head when her stomach troubles did. Looking down and briefly pushing, she tested her theory and quickly found some hard evidence. She was quaking the whole bench with her farts, the structure rumbling alongside her ass. It was a slightly embarrassing realization, but even more so was the fact that she hadn’t even noticed it was happening up until now. She had been so caught up in her own mind numbing emissions that she failed to recognize she was capable of such force. It wasn’t much of a problem, she doubted the bench would break, and if she could flutter her cloak with relative ease this wasn’t too much of a step up, all things considered, but the fact she could create such a bass rich source of rumbles to begin with was still quite the discovery, and a slightly mortifying one at that. A small part of her briefly wondered how Lace was holding up, but any and all concerns quickly faded as her ass picked back up and she fired off again.
Lace didn’t feel like she was faring much better than the plant life outside, forced to bear witness to the worst Hornet had to offer. She had been stuck point blank the entire time she’d been firing off, the revolting, wretched smell continuously forced up her nose with progressively greater ferocity while the sound rang in her ears. As if the deafening noise or dreadful stench weren’t bad enough, her whole head vibrated each time Hornet felt the need to cut one loose. She could feel the power behind every one of her farts, the bench she had foolishly rested upon seeming like it was going to be rattled apart alongside her. It was growing utterly unbearable, and Hornet’s flow showed no signs of dying down anytime soon. She tried yelling out and shouting, hoping that maybe someone would hear her and come to her aid even with her voices of protest muffled by Hornet’s disgusting butt, but no one was around, and even if there were someone nearby, her efforts would be for naught. All her cries always wound up drowned out by another thunderous bout from Hornet, even her screams lost in the rotten cacophony.
After a considerable length of time, Hornet finally began to realize just how loud her farts were and started to worry slightly about attracting any unwanted attention with the sweat soaked, squelching sounds her ass endlessly produced. She had gotten quite caught up in the relief the act provided a number of times now, creating a perfect opportunity for someone to sneak up on her, though with the acrid aroma surrounding her, she wasn’t sure it was too much of a concern. All the same, her guts were far from empty, and her butt was still running on full blast, so she’d rather find a solution and avoid it being a problem in the first place. She certainly didn’t want to stop, but after a bit of pondering she landed on the only other practical solution.
Hiking up both of her legs, she bore more of her weight upon her seat before test firing. A large plume of her smoke spilled out alongside what was easily the grossest noise she had made yet, both sources of revolt finding a new avenue for escape with her adjusted posture. Clearly needing a different method, Hornet leveled out her legs and ground down against Lace, the continued abuse prompting a muffled groan which was swiftly ignored. She did her best to strengthen the seal between her rear and the individual currently being subjected to it so as to ensure everything was properly muffled. Once her skin finally made contact with the actual bench, she continued unleashing the storm in her stomach, finding that the noise was indeed dampened, an overall similar sound profile poking through but far quieter than before. Her seismic activity hadn’t been reduced, the bench still rattling thanks to how inherently rich her rips were, though that was much less of a concern.
Finally getting up, Hornet freed Lace from her prison, the tormented insect so thoroughly ravaged she didn’t have the strength to gasp for fresh air, not that there was much of it in the fog bank Hornet had created. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Lace’s face was visibly fuming with her haze, much thicker, heavier wisps rising from her skin. Looking a bit further down, she saw that her ass was left in a similar state, a trail of residual fart funk steaming from her crack. A less than dignified affliction, but her attention was drawn from it as she felt one more bit of pressure building at her back door. A drop in the bucket at this point, Hornet quickly relieved it. The small burst renewed her mist, thickening her personal cloud and spraying some of the somehow increased quantities of sweat onto Lace. It seemed that despite how absorbent she looked, the additional source of heat only made things worse. Of more immediate concern to Hornet was the fact that she had spewed out such a sour storm that there was now a lingering trail of her scent clinging to the source of it, the yellow easily picked out from the surrounding hues. Refusing to be left in such a degrading condition for her travels, Hornet shifted her gaze back to Lace, deciding that she could stomach just a bit more.
With her torment seemingly over, Lace thought that, at last, she was free, but as Hornet swung a leg over her and got back on the bench, she realized she had another task in mind. She sat down once again, planting her ass right in front of her face and leaving her smoking crack hovering right in front of it. Lace desperately wished she could shove Hornet off and give her what she deserved for such an atrocious treatment, but even if she could move her limbs her energy had been completely drained. She didn’t know when this day would end, but she could tell it was only going to get worse.
Reaching back, Hornet gripped the back of Lace’s head before forcefully shoving it into her ass, burying it even deeper than before in the cavern that was her crack. She thoroughly wedged her between her fat, flabby cheeks before rubbing her up and down, using her face as a fart rag. Regardless of how good she may have been at soaking up the remaining stink, Hornet still lost herself to this feeling like she had many of the others she’d experienced today, relief washing over her as she scrubbed Lace around, at long last sating that endlessly bothersome itch. It almost felt as though she took bits of her remaining fart residue with each pass, but even if she wasn’t she was still mopping up plenty of the dirt, grime and greasy sweat that coated every one of the many inches of her ass. It seemed silk was excellent at absorbing one’s revolting stench, you just needed to work it a bit.
After a good few minutes of tidying herself up, and feeling that Lace had soaked up as she could, Hornet pulled her out and let her fall back onto the bench, unceremoniously casting her aside with as much respect as a fart rag deserved. Doing a quick check, Hornet found that her rear no longer had a visible cloud rising off it, or at least, not one strong enough that she could discern it from the encompassing smog bank she had produced, and was left satisfied. Dusting herself off, she adjusted her cloak, took a deep breath, only mildly regretting it, and pressed onward to continue her journey. It was still a long walk to the Citadel.