By: captainwho88
It wasn't uncommon for Jill Valentine to wake up in a state of confusion. After living through such a horrific event widely and colloquially known as "The Mansion Incident" nothing was the same for her ever again. PTSD doesn't cover half of it; Jill might not have been infected with the T-Virus during that endeavor, but she was certainly infected with a new obsession. A fascination with the inner workings of the Umbrella Corporation, and just how large this conspiracy connecting them with the lab hidden in the Arklay Mountains reached.
Jill would not rest - could not rest until she uncovered the truth of the Umbrella Corp., as well as the duplicitous Raccoon City their HQ resided in.
The months following the Mansion Incident were ones of isolation. Jill had locked herself away in her apartment, conducting tedious amounts of detective work in her attempt to get to the bottom of things. Her apartment was a mess of notes, photographs, and bulletin boards plastered with threads, maps, and familiar faces. While this eyesore of an apartment put off the rare visitor (Such as Brad bringing her groceries and the occasional Chinese take-out), the one thing that disturbed visitors the most was the seemingly omnipresent odor haunting the flat.
Perhaps it was a combination of Jill's almost divine physical status and biologically proficient body (According to R.P.D. physical examinations, her body was naturally more active at a cellular and bacterial level than most), the horrible anxiety she had been suffering from, and her recently developed life style of bingeing on cheap foods and lounging around all day doing research, but Jill had developed a previously absent quirk of being inexplicably and irrevocably gassy. So much so, that not even Brad could stick around to listen to her ramblings about the Umbrella Corporation without needing to come up with some crazy excuse that would allow him to flee the room. Listening to conspiracy theories for hours on end were one thing; Listening to them from a woman who couldn't stop ripping ass every few sentences while she prattled on was another. Brad considered Jill one of his closest friends, but even that bond which had been forged over the months of training they endured for their careers as S.T.A.R.S. officers wasn't enough for him to persevere. He couldn't help it; Out of all the members of S.T.A R.S., he was always the most reluctant to put himself in harms way. Plus, he was quite queasy when it came to unsavory odors.
Surprisingly enough to Brad, Jill herself didn't seem to notice how bad her flatulence had become - or at least she never drew attention to it. He knew her mind was focusing on other things, but even someone with a nasty case of tunnel vision would be distracted if not by the sheer quantity of farts they were releasing, then the horrific smell that followed.
Due to Jill's long nights of fixated research, her sudden change in diet and physical activity, and her inability to lock away terrifying memories of the Spencer Estate, Jill's circadian rhythm and resting biological status were thrown for a loop. It wasn't just gas; she sometimes couldn't even tell whether or not she was awake or simply experiencing a dream! Not to mention other weird quirks, such as falling asleep in the middle of talking or spontaneously breaking out into a heavy, wicked sweat despite a relaxed setting. The worst of these symptoms, however, were still undoubtedly her hellish flatulence. It was as if her overactive bodily functions were crying out in protest against the trauma and her subsequent obsession with Umbrella. Brad tried his best to keep Jill company during these hard times, but even he could tell Jill had changed into a shell of her former, cheery self.
Actually, 'Shell' wasn't the right word. 'Shell' implies that she was now empty, but that wasn't true in the slightest. No, her cheery, slightly sassy and sarcastic disposition might have been sapped from her, but something else took its place. To Brad Vickers, he thought it was trauma. And while that was part of it, he failed to detect the underlying vendetta Jill was now carrying against Umbrella and whatever client her treacherous former boss - Albert Wesker - may have been working with. This vendetta fueled her desire to keep going, despite how crazy she would seem to an outside observer.
With Chris Redfield currently stationed in Europe, Brad knew he was the only S.T.A.R.S. member left in town to look after Jill. He was fond of Jill, so he never thought twice about going out of his way to bring her the essentials while she chased after what was - In his honest opinion - a futile dream of exposing the secrets of the city. Despite this belief, Brad hoped deep in his heart that Jill would actually succeed, and bring justice to all of those who deserve it.
----------------------------
Enter the survival horror.
Brad walked briskly up the staircase of Jill's apartment as he had done countless times before, only this time he was carrying a couple boxes of Raccoon City's finest pizza. Brad was almost considering taking the pizza straight to his home to eat by himself, but he did tell Jill he would stop by and check on her soon, and that was a promise he intended to keep.
Upon reaching the door he knew belonged to Jill, Brad began to knock on the door - At first with a rhythmic tap, and then with a louder bang when Jill failed to respond.
"Jill, it's Brad!" He shouted. "I don't want to disturb your neighbors!"
After a minute of waiting and knocking, a slight pang of worry struck Brad; A feeling of anxiety that he quickly expunged from his mind as he reached into his pocket and produced a key that Jill had given him. Using this key (A key he knew represented Jill's trust in him), he opened the door to Jill's apartment. Despite half expecting it, Brad was overwhelmed by a spicy odor that washed over him, completely terminating the smell of the fresh, steamy pizza he was carrying. Eager to be a good friend for Jill, Brad pressed onward undeterred.
While trying not to think about how it was possible for any human - let alone the 24 year old woman he had grown fond of - to produce farts that rivaled (More accurately, completely trumped!) the smell of pizza fresh from the oven, Brad crept into the dim apartment. He knew creeping around inside the home of someone struggling with PTSD could be very dangerous for both parties, but he also knew that it's very possible Jill was simply engrossed in her work and failed to notice the knocking on the door. Plus, there's always the chance Jill had finally pushed herself too far and collapsed, in which case he needed to find her asap!
The light from the apartment hallway stopped short just a few feet into the flat, and most of that light was now overshadowed by Brad's large figure. The only source of light beyond the darkness was the dim computer screen at Jill's desk. Brad slowly lowered his eyes towards the silhouette of a person sitting at the desk with their head resting on it.
"Jill...?" Brad whispered, so as to not startle her.
As Brad's eyes adjusted, he discovered it was indeed Jill he was staring at. Her hair was so messy, it practically looked like a bird's nest, and she wasn't wearing her usual clothes, but instead a casual tank-top (Which might have been too small) and a pair of tight jeans which Brad feared might have been the same pair she was wearing the last time he had visited to drop by food a few days ago.
"Jill, are you awake?" Brad questioned, only to realize a second later a puddle of drool forming around her mouth, seeping into the scattered note cards that covered her desk. Guess that answers that.
"Pst, Jill..." Brad said, hellbent on waking her up without startling her. How the hell was he gonna manage this? She was like a ball of nerves these last few weeks.
"I guess I should turn the lights on first..." Brad muttered to himself. Brad scanned the room for the light switch, and the moment he laid his eyes upon it, he heard a low, deep groaning sound - the kind you hear when an old building was on the verge of collapsing down onto your head.
"What the...?" Brad mumbled to himself as he turned towards Jill, the apparent source of the sound. Did that... come from her? Brad pondered. Despite her still being out like a light, Brad watched as Jill's eyes twitched a little as she snorted in her sleep. She then slowly but steadily raised her buttcheek closest to Brad autonomously, without waking up. Brad watched as Jill paused in this position, wondering if she was in the process of waking up or what. Then after a few seconds of silence...
PRUUUUUUUUMMMBBBBMM!!!
Brad jumped at the sudden trombone-like sound elicited from Jill's meaty behind. The room had been dead silent up until now, so this fart probably wasn't as loud as it seemed in the moment, but it was enough to catch Brad off guard despite the fact that he really should have known what was coming (It was impossible to spend any amount of time around Jill these days without her farting, regardless whether or not she was even awake). Half relieved it was just a harmless fart (though Brad would soon realize the smell was really pushing the definition of 'harmless'), Brad kicked himself for letting it startle him as the fart came to a bassy end, and Jill lowered her butt back down into her seat as she continued to saw some logs.
How did that not wake her? Brad thought to himself, both disturbed by the fart itself and the fact that Jill managed to rip something like that while snoozing. She probably woke up the neighbors with that one!
Brad allowed himself to audibly groan with disgust when the vile and fresh scent of spicy eggs and severely burnt toast washed over him, due to the fact that he probably wouldn't wake her if that fart hadn't been enough to do the job. (And frankly, he couldn't stop his sounds of disgust if he tried.)
Waving the air in front of his face as if it would make a difference, Brad reached for Jill's shoulders and gave her a small nudge while muttering her name.
"Jill, get up. It's Brad."
"Mhmm... Brad...?" Jill muttered, still mostly asleep. Drool continued to pour from her mouth as she spoke. "I think the... radio is busted..."
Radio? Brad thought. She must be dreaming.
"Jill, wake up. You're in your apartment and now's not the time to be sleepi-"
"Snk- NGGHGHGH - shooo...!"
As if to cut off Brad, Jill elicited a monstrous, jackhammer-like snore that reverberated through out the entire flat, proving that she was in a truly deep sleep. Seriously, whatever kind of phlegm caught in Jill's throat just then, it sounded like her snore shredded and eviscerated it.
Alright, fine, no holding back. Brad thought to himself as the first drops of Jill's drool began to fall off the desk and onto the floor. Brad stomped over to the lights, started flashing them on and off, and cried "JILL! WAKE THE FUCK UP ALREADY! I BROUGHT PIZZA FOR-"
But the rest of Brad's sentence was drowned out by the once again sudden sound of booming gas drumming though Jill's thick rear end as she sat up in surprise the moment she heard the word 'Pizza'.
"I-I'm awake!!" Jill shouted just as she sat up, just as she started releasing her vicious fart that drowned out both of their voices.
BBBBBBBBBBRMMMMMMMMMMMMMM - RRRRRUUUUUUUP!
Jill was barely aware of the context of the situation after being suddenly woken up. All she knew was that she was craving some pizza, and someone had just claimed to have brought her some. Due to the confusion most people experience when suddenly being woken up, Jill did absolutely nothing to hold back the fart that was now roaring out of her. In fact, she barely noticed her ass was practically firing off a grenade round as she stared at the puddle of drool she had left on her notes. Ugh, these notes are ruined! Jill thought to herself. I need to be more careful about when I sleep!
As if it were a casual morning, Jill then stood from her chair for the first time in more than 12 hours, and stretched her arms as she continued this 12 second fart, causing it to shift from it's initially earth-quaking bass to an airier, dry toot of equally impressive measure.
Brad's eyes quickly scanned Jill's immaculate body on instinct, but forced himself to look away upon feeling a pang of guilt. His eyes instead rested up the chair she had been sitting in, only to notice the vague imprint of Jill's ass on the cushion. How long has she been on that chair? Brad thought to himself, not failing to notice the discoloration of the cushion centered at the point where Jill's derriere was. He didn't even want to think about what that thing has had to endure.
Jill finished stretching her arms, and began bringing her hands down to her toes to stretch her legs. Brad knew Jill was flexible, but was still awestruck when she not only touched her toes without bending her knees, but also managed to put her palms flat face down on the floorboards with perfect ease.
Maintaining this position (A position in which Jill couldn't have accentuated her ass more even if she tried), she began to speak. "I'd know that voice anywhere, Brad! Thanks for bringing the goods!"
"Right, of course!" Brad said, literally shaking his head to break himself from the spell that was Jill Valentine's butt. C'mon, Brad! We just witnessed what that thing is capable of! He thought to himself. "I told you this evening would be a party! I've also got some beer in the car downstairs!"
"Oh, perfect!" Jill said, straightening up again with ease as she looked at Brad in the eye for the first time this evening. "I've been craving pizza like crazy! After all, I've had nothing but a bunch of sandwiches for days on end..."
Brad was amused over the fact that Jill has yet to even acknowledge her recent outburst of gas. Did she genuinely not notice, or does she simply not care that her butt is practically a natural B.O.W.?
"Sandwiches? Why don't you just go out to grab a bite to eat from time to time?"
"Well, y'know, lots to do. Lots of secrets to uncover..." Jill said, making a vain attempt to straighten out her hair and somehow making it messier.
"Well, what's the rush?" Brad inquired. "You gotta take better care of yourself! You don't want to ruin your lovely figure, right?"
Jill laughed at Brad's comment. The two of them were close enough to semi-flirt with each other knowing it was just playful banter. "Right, my figure. Well, if a week of sandwiches and a week of Chinese food before that hasn't gotten to me yet, I'm sure I'll be able to maintain this lovely figure you love so much."
Brad noticed Jill was acting more like her usual self already, and the evening had only just begun. Was this a sign that Jill was finally recovering? Well, perhaps not. She was still fast asleep at her desk when he had arrived, and her appearance is still that of someone going off the deep end. And, this goes without saying, the stench in her humble little abode was anything but humble.
"So, uh, what, are we just going to crash here?" Brad said. "Because I assumed we were going to go out after we had the pizza, maybe even peruse that new Toy Uncle store, but you don't... uh... exactly seemed dressed for the occasion."
"Sorry! I just had a breakthrough in my research and I didn't really have time to get ready..." Jill said, only slightly embarrassed that Brad was seeing her like this. She once again tried to fix her hair, slightly cringing at the fact that it felt knitted like tumbleweed and incredibly greasy. When was the last time I showered? Jill though to herself as she discretely sniffed one of her pits, only to immediately regret doing so. God, I fucking reek! I might have to burn these clothes...
Brad was once again amused at the fact Jill seemed embarrassed about her hair and B.O. and not... well, the military grade bombs she had just dropped.
"Oh, and sorry about the smell!" Jill casually said, as if the smell was just a tiny thing. "I've been kinda gassy lately, and you know how hard it is to air this musty old place out, haha..."
Pffffort!!
Jill's face contorted a bit as another, but way smaller fart slipped out. Both Jill and Brad believed this was probably just leftover gas from her last fart, but the moment the infinitely stronger, sandwich-y smell of this tiny little deimos hit their noses, both of them felt the instantaneous need to change the subject.
"So, uh-
"Anyway-"
"Ah, you go first!" Brad said, while adjusting his breathing to accommodate for the terrible smell of mayonnaise and pickles.
"Ah, um, I was just gonna say... Do you want to move to the kitchen to eat the pizza? I know we usually watch TV when you visit, but, um..." Jill stopped herself, knowing Brad would understand that they couldn't feasibly stay in that room without the onion sandwich odor driving them nuts.
"Psh, who needs TV?" Brad said, bringing the pizza boxes to the kitchen table.
The flat wasn't very large, and the kitchen was widely connected to the computer room, so Brad wasn't surprised at all to discover the smell was still hanging in the air in the kitchen. Fortunately, however, the moment Brad opened the box, the delicious smell of the italian deluxe pizza filled the room.
"Hey, why don't you tell me about this breakthrough of yours?" Brad asked, latching onto the most sensible topic. He didn't want their meetings to be all about Umbrella, but he understood it would be foolish to dance around it. Jill always talked about her findings, so he could at least feign an urgent interest to help put her at ease.
"Right, so!" Jill began, plopping herself down in the seat across from Brad. Doing so caused her breasts to bounce just enough that it permanently displaced her tank top, luckily not to the extent that anything private started showing. Regardless, Brad couldn't help but swing his eyes across her chest as her ample melons were really testing the strength of the fabric. This was definitely not a top someone as well endowed as Jill should be wearing.
"You know how almost 13,000 people are reported missing in Raccoon City every year?" Jill began, acting less concerned and more fanatical about her findings.
"No I don't, but go on." Brad said, struggling to withdraw a slice of pizza from the insane amount of cheese that was lathered onto it.
"Well, if you filter out the solved cases, those of individuals who were experiencing any form of mental entropy, and false alarms, you'd discover a very clear pattern of disappearance hots pots..."
vvvvvvrrrrrrmmmmmmmm!!
Jill's other end started talking as she rambled on, making its presence known to Brad. To Brad's dismay, Jill didn't seem to notice she had already farted once again, before either of them could take a single bite of their pizza. She was just too focused on her findings!
"And when you look at the cases that occurred in each of these spots... well, they just don't make sense! For instance, one was a college graduate with a bright future! Another was a firefighter for god's sake! It just doesn't make sense that they would up and vanish without a single trace of resist... resista-"
VVVVVVVVVVrrrrrrroooorppp!
"-Ugh, sorry - Resistance!" Jill said, somehow both apologizing for the crude outburst from her bum and ignoring it's implications on their meal.
Brad was trying to follow what Jill was saying, and he did think she was onto something big, but the tasty sensations of this deluxe pizza mixing with the not-so-tasty butt fumes courtesy of Jill Valentine was really starting to make him feel sick. Why on Earth did I think I could spend an entire evening here...? Brad thought, watching as Jill finished her pizza slice faster than he thought possible. She was either really hungry, or she really wanted to keep talking.
"So I was thinking that - Ough, Damn, this pizza hits the spot! - That I might investigate these locations, mainly the Spencer Memorial hospital, the sewers near the substation, and the orphanage just past the R.P.D.!"
"Mhmm, Mhmm..." Brad nodded along, trying to adapt to the fresh scent of onions in the air. The pizza only had meat and cheese on it, but being forced to smell Jill's farts as she rambled on while he was trying to eat gave Brad the extremely unpleasant sensation that he was eating Jill's gas just as much as he was eating the pizza. The taste he craved and the smell he was repulsed by combined into a single monstrosity that ravaged his sense of smell and taste. Hell, Brad wasn't even sure if the garlic he was experiencing at this moment was from the taste of his food or the smell of Jill's damn flatulence. The fact that he genuinely couldn't discern between the two was disturbing and revolting all on its own.
Oblivious to Brad's suffering (And not because Brad was good at hiding it,) Jill continued on, this time talking with her mouth full.
"I meab, Umbella ish obbioubly behibe all thish!" she said just before swallowing what looked to Brad like an impossible amount of food in one gulp. "It's no coincidence these locations are all sponsored by the same corporation, right?"
Brad, losing track of Jill's words as he found himself equally amazed and disturbed by how she was currently carrying herself, answered with a resounding "Yup."
"See, I knew you'd agree!" Jill said, as if Brad's response wasn't incredibly lame. "Fuck, that was a lot of cheese... *Brup*... I need something to make this go down easier..."
Jill stood from her seat, taking her current slice of pizza with her (This was her third, Brad noted. He was almost finished with his first).
Jill swung open the door to her refrigerator and shoved the pizza into her mouth at the same time, and then proceeded to now use her free hand to grab a carton of milk from the top shelf of the fridge. Brad expected her to then grab a cup, but she instead opted to chug the milk straight from the carton, her neck slightly moving as the pizza and milk made their way to her stomach.
Just as Brad realized he had suddenly lost his appetite, he witnessed Jill's half visible gut from beneath her undersized top vibrate subtly, rippling as that groaning sound from before rang out into the air again, only this time much louder and for a longer duration. Now, Brad was no expert, but he was fairly certain food doesn't load you with gas the very moment you swallow it. Despite knowing this, he somehow got an ominous feeling that feeding Jill extra cheesy pizza was a very stupid idea, and that doing so was just asking for her "Above average bodily functions" to kick into high gear.
Jill slammed the milk carton onto the counter as if it were a pint glass, and grabbed her gut with a look of moderate concern. "Oof, fuck, I don't think this food is gonna sit right with me..."
PPpffruuubbBBBummbpt!
Jill's ass seemed to agree with her, as it echoed through the air like a frog playing a brass horn. Brad casually scooted his chair away from her producing a fart like noise of his own as the chair dragged across the floor. Jill laughed at Brad's reaction.
"Haha, God, I'm so sorry! We moved into the kitchen to avoid the smell of my farts in the first place!" Jill said with exasperation. "I just don't know what my deal is, I've been farting up a storm in here all day long! -OUGH! God, I haven't smelled anything this bad since Barry lit Plant 42 on fire!! I've gotta straight up apologize for that one. I mean, yikes, I feel like I need a Blue Herb! Whew that was awful!"
The smell, as it hit Brad, was enough to wring bullets of sweat out him. The stench smelled like typical sandwich ingredients again, only so much more nefarious. The stench of sour pickles, rotten onions, expired mayo, tuna, and cheese filled the room. It was this cheesy odor that offended Brad the most, due to the cheese from the pizza still residing on his tongue. Again, the unpleasant feeling of violation wafted over Brad, and all at once, Brad's fight or flight instincts took over.
And much like his role in the Mansion Incident, Brad chose the latter.
"Oh my goodness, I just remembered!" Brad said, already shoving the remaining pizza into Jill's fridge. "I was supposed to host a webinar for aspiring helicopter pilots!"
Jill, not so much gullible as she was trusting of her comrade, gave a genuine look of disappointment as Brad's attitude seemed to flip as he seemingly intended to walk out. "B-but, you just did one of those!"
Ah, what? Brad thought to himself in a panic. I could have sworn I hadn't used that excuse yet...!
"Are you really choosing some webinar over hearing what I have to say?" Jill accused.
"Th-there's more to say? Look, we can talk more about this later, perhaps, ah, when your stomach is feeling better..." Brad said, awkwardly making his way towards the front door. Suddenly, with speed and agility Brad hadn't seen from her in ages, Jill sprinted towards the door, somehow wriggling past him in the blink of an eye, and leaned against it with her leg up against the adjacent wall for support, as if she were determined not to let Brad leave.
"I-I feel fine!" Jill said. "It's no problem, honestly!"
Unfortunately for Jill, her gut rumbled once more as if to call her out on her lie. This particular gaseous bowel movement was enough to make Jill feel as though there was something alive inside her as her intestines contracted, pumping large quantities of her gas towards the escape hatch. It took Jill an intense amount of effort to maintain a straight face as this uncomfortable sensation created a subtle feeling of dread. Oh, Jesus Christ, I really need to fart again... Jill thought as she attempted to release an SBD to relieve some pressure. Unfortunately for her, this fart didn't seem to want to come out unless she gave it a good, strong push; A push that would certainly rival a truck horn in terms of sound.
"No problem for you, maybe...!" Brad retorted, as Jill began to subtly rub her butt against the door in a futile attempt to spread her cheeks and allow for a silent fart. Brad wanted to avoid hurting Jill's feelings, but the sound that just emanated from Jill seriously scared him. It sounded like she had a damn Hunter in her gut! "Look, Jill, I admire you and all, and I would love to hear more about your conspiracies and plans, but I just... Can't stay here...! This smell is just..! I-I gotta go...!"
Brad, eyes watering as he struggled not to outwardly gag, made his way towards the door. I'll push her out of the way if I have to! I can't stay here...! God, I don't think I've smelled anything this bad in my LIFE!
"Ugh, come on!" Jill shouted as Brad gently but firmly grabbed her shoulders. "It doesn't even smell that bad! Quit being such a baby!"
Jill lifted her right leg, and planted her boot right at the center of Brad's body mass. With a grunt of effort, Jill pushed her leg outward, unintentionally letting loose a fart as Brad lost his grip on Jill's shoulders.
BLLORPP!!
She had only meant to keep Brad from touching her shoulders, but Jill forgot the strength of her own powerful legs and sent Brad tumbling backward. He would have fallen over, she thought, had he not collided with the side of the book shelf running parallel to the wall.
Brad's faced turned from one of anger due to Jill's kick, to one of outright disgust as this latest fart enveloped the room at speeds neither of them thought possible for fart. This fart practically produced a shock-wave effect of stink, blasting into their nostrils and enveloping the room as if fired from an air canon. Brad started coughing on the spot, no longer capable of hiding his reactions to the smell.
Jill slowly lowered her still raised leg, taking a moment to appreciate the rotten smell of her last fart. She never gave to much thought about her recent gassiness, but somehow, after seeing Brad's almost violent reactions to the smell, his desperate behavior to escape, and the realization that this current fart smelled like something straight from Hell (And she has smelled rotting corpses before), Jill was surprised to find herself feeling pleased with herself; The same way she felt when she blew up Chimera's with a grenade launcher.
I'm a damn biological weapon! Jill thought to herself as she stifled a sadistic grin. Well, I've already kicked poor Brad, and that fart came out regardless of my attempts at holding it, so I might as well go all out!
Jill approached Brad, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and raised him up against the bookshelf he crashed against. Brad was quite a large man, but Jill easily pressed him against the wood with her deceptively thin but muscular arms. "Listen up, Brad." Jill began with a harsh tone of voice. "If you really do consider me a friend, then I need you at my side now more than ever."
Brad looked at Jill, not resisting the hold she had on him. She had a fierce look of determination in her eye, but he detected something else hidden within her expression. He shuddered at what this might mean for him.
"You weren't there that night at the Spencer estate - And I know you didn't have much choice - But now it's time to man the fuck up!" Jill shouted. "Now, I need you to help me infiltrate these areas of concern, and we need to come up with a battle plan. Yes, it could take us hours. Yes, I'm going to be a little gassy. But I need you, Brad Vickers! These megalomaniac assholes think the world is their plaything - Well, let's prove them wrong! Let's show them where they can shove their Umbrella!"
VVVVVVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRVVVVRVRVRVRVRVRVRVVVRRRR!!!
With that final declaration, Jill ripped would could only be describe as a literal chainsaw fart. This fart was so loud and sharp, that Brad wouldn't be surprised if this thing split open Jill's jeans right at the center of her caboose. Despite this, however, Brad's disgust and queasiness up and vanished as Jill's determination and reliance upon him touched both his heart and soul. Hell, even when the smell of Jill's fart (This time smelling like an oversized refrigerator with a broken cooling system full of all sorts of spoiled food), Brad mustered all of his strength and purged the feelings of nausea from his mind.
Goddamnit, she was right. And Brad knew this. His own boss was one of these freaks, for fuck's sake. Brad knew he was manipulated and tricked by Wesker just as much as the rest of his team, and that fact alone was far more unbearable than any kind of vile flatulence Jill's body could throw at him.
"Jill, I'm sorry..." Brad began. "I don't know what came over me... Truth is, I'm just as angry at Umbrella as you are. Hell, maybe even more so. Because... They've shown me just how weak I am... How weak I've always been..."
Jill lowered Brad, releasing his clothes as she took a step back to allow Brad to vent. Jill was trying to pay full attention to the words of her friend, but the incorrigibly nasty fart she just released gave her a newfound sense of pride and disgust. Jesus Fuck, I can rip some seriously raunchy farts...
"I thought that when I became a member of S.T.A.R.S., I had finally become the 'me' that I wanted to be. Fearless, and also feared by those who are unjust. But when I abandoned you guys that night... I realized I was still the scared little boy I had always been. But not anymore...! I'll fight Umbrella head on by your side!" Brad puffed out his chest. "If not to make up for leaving you guys behind that night, then for all of Umbrella's victims!"
Jill was touched; It was her goal to get through to him all along, considering he was the only friend she had at the moment. Now that she appears to have actually succeeded, she was incredibly moved by the aura of his burning passion.
"B-Brad... Thank you! I couldn't do this without you- Uh, what the fuck are you doing?" Jill said, watching as Brad dropped to his knees.
"I need to formally apologize..." Brad began. "I think I've finally figured out what I saw in your eyes when you kicked me and held me against the wall..."
Where is this going? Jill thought to herself as she tilted her head in intrigue.
"It was... contempt." Brad said with some effort, as if the word hurt to say.
"What! Don't be ridiculous, I like you, Brad!" Jill said.
"I believe you," Brad admitted. "But a part of you still hasn't forgiven me for flying away by myself in a helicopter when those... those damn Cerberus mutts first attacked..."
"Brad, really, it's fine-"
"No, it isn't! If we are going to be a team, like you said, there needs to be no bad blood between us! So please, I want you to take out your anger on me!"
"Brad, what-"
"Do it! Release your pent up frustration!"
Watching this ridiculous scene unfold, Jill was met with the realization that she did have a lot of pent up anger. And while she never would have placed this anger on Brad for briefly abandoning their squad, she did need to release some of her pent up anger, or else she felt like she might explode. This is why - without giving it a second thought - Jill's body seemed to move on it's own. She responded to Brad's plea and her desire for a release of tension the best way she knew how. She didn't need to justify her actions; This just felt right.
Jill stomped over to Brad, grabbed the top of his head by his hair, twisted her hips, and shoved his face straight into her ass crack. To her surprise, Brad did not resist. In fact, he seemed to comply completely, as Jill felt him press his nose into the seams of her jeans as if to say Do it.
As if the despicable fart that had been growing and festering in her gut the past few minutes were the embodiment of her rage and resentment in Brad's cowardly actions, Jill bent forward and thrusted her ass out just enough so that Brad's nose was perfectly and dangerously aligned with her asshole. With Brad completely at the mercy of Jill's massive behind that balanced both firm muscles and soft fat, Jill scrunched her face as she began to push out the fart.
To her surprise, her butt didn't seem to comply. Jill knew she had to fart. Like, she really needed to fart. REALLY. This thing had been growing inside her like a G-Young, and it was desperate to be born. Jill, fully intent on unleashing her might on Brad (I mean, he did ask for it!), began to push again, this time even harder. As Jill struggled to push, Brad felt Jill's gaping asshole puckering and relaxing beneath the fabric of her tight jeans. And these jeans were tight. So tight, that Brad could see the folds of Jill's ass where her thighs began clear as day as the fabric clung to her thick behind. She made jeans look like skin tight leggings!
As Jill repeatedly flexed and relaxed her impressively sized derriere, Brad discovered in horror that his face, still being guided by Jill's hand, was practically sinking into the the canyon that divided her two globulus butt cheeks. Brad began to feel light headed as he exhaled air in excess to what he was inhaling, as each sniff of Jill's crack brought a physical pain of revulsion over him. Christ almighty, Brad thought. When she farts, she just might kill me.
While Brad was accepting his doom, Jill was breaking a sweat trying to give birth to this monstrous flatus. And when Jill sweats, she sweats. Chalk it up to her - once again - overactive body. Her hair was already greasier as beads of sweat ran down her forehead, arms, and legs. Poor Brad might drown if I don't hurry up and fart...! Jill thought, half with concern and half with amusement. It was with this thought that Jill felt her bloated gut tremble again, sounding off a low moaning, groaning sound like that of an old ship rocking at sea. It was far to loud, deep, and echoey to be a sound reasonably expected to come from a human. This sounded like a massive tank of sludge bubbling with air in an abandoned factory. Basically, this was the wettest, most guttural sounding stomach rumble possibly anyone on Earth had ever heard, and Jill has heard the sound Black Tiger had made before vomiting her acid at her.
The simultaneous feeling Jill experienced in her gut (And her anus) was absolutely congruent with this vile sound. That is to say, it felt just as nasty and downright disgusting as it sounded. Jill felt as though a bicycle pump had filled her with gas, and now that gas was being pumped down towards her ass as if she were a human factory. Jill began to (somehow) sweat even more, practically soaking her clothes as she grit her teeth and continued to push as hard as she could. To Jill's dismay, however, her ass still refused to comply. Never before had Jill needed to fart this badly in her entire life, yet no air seemed to escape her rear end despite the building pressure in her bowels. If she didn't know any better, Jill would say her butt was charging up like some sort of experimental railgun for a super devestating blast of flatulence. At this rate, when I DO fart... Jill thought. This thing is gonna explode out of me. Violently.
Brad didn't know what was worse; The outright frightening sound Jill's body just made, the fact that Jill's sweaty, swampy, smelly ass was now practically engulfing his entire head, or the anticipation for just when the hell Jill was finally going to blow. From the sound of things, Jill should be locked and loaded and ready to fire, but she seemed to be experiencing a major case of constipation. Brad's noggin began to ache as Jill's fist clutched the top of his hair, keeping him locked in place. Brad considered punching upward towards Jill to let her know that he was unable to breathe, and what little air he did manage to inhale was practically singing his nose hairs it smelled so bad. It didn't help knowing Jill hadn't washed herself down there for days. Brad was quite literally sandwiched between Jill's immaculately sculpted buns from the Heavens, but the odor that came from Hell itself prevented him from taking any pleasure at all from it. Attractive or not, this has to be the stinkiest behind in the world, right now... Brad thought, trying not to think what this upcoming fart could do to possibly make Jill's butt smell worse.
Jill's knees buckled closer together as she continued to push, causing her to almost lose her balance. If I fell, poor Brad would be crushed! Jill thought to herself as her face grimaced with pain due to the pressure and inability to relieve it. Come on Jill! You've been farting like nobodies business for months... just... FART... ALREADY!!
"HUUUUUAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!" Jill screamed, as if it were an attack cry as she funneled all her energy into farting. For a frightening four seconds, it felt to Jill as if this still wouldn't be enough, as her stomach continued to bubble and growl with no signs of the gas wanting to leave. It was halfway through this barbaric, yet still feminine scream, however, that something within Jill seemed to unlock, and she felt her anus fill with gas like a balloon animal before getting tied up. The sound alone was like a deep rumble, as if she somehow managed to fit a tuba inside her body and it was playing. Brad could barely see anything with Jill's booty easily covering his entire face, but he could feel as Jill's butt seemed to grow larger as it relaxed more than ever before, her two cheeks dividing in preparation for the blast of anal wind to come. Brad was now facing the true terror of Jill's behind head on, as a vile musty stench that was previously undetected flowed into his nostrils as Jill's butt opened in preparation to unleash a Monster. His head sank further still as Jill's muscles fully relaxed for the first time in months. A low tearing sound could barely be heard beneath the rumbling of Jill's tortured intestines as her jeans began to rip in multiple locations, as the sheer size of Jill's relaxed, fat ass was too much for it to contain.
And then, much like her jeans, Jill's anal sphincter broke open, and out spewed what would be most accurately described as fatally advanced biological warfare.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...
The sound was cliche yet unheard of. Jill's apartment trembled as this formidable and utterly inhuman fart blasted from Jill's rear end like a chemical flamethrower. Brad's entire face started to burn; His nose was on fire, his eyes stung, and his face was red hot as the full, unfiltered might of Jill's trademark sandwich-smelling farts engulfed him. Brad instinctively tried to pull his head from Jill's ass, but Jill's hand held him firmly in place as she unleashed this abomination. Brad barely noticed due to the life-changing stench, but he was experiencing a peculiar sensation in which Jill's ass cheeks were practically rippling with the shockwave of this fart. It was impossible to tell if it was literally her ass fat jiggling or the torn denim fabric pulsating like a screen door in a hurricane as insane levels of gas tore through them, but to Brad, Jill's ass looked like it was rippling with energy, and the sensation of Jill's buttcheeks against his face cheeks made it feel as though their bodies were intertwined as one.
From the moment this fart began, Jill was on cloud nine. Her scream trailed off into a moan of pleasure as her eyes rolled back. She was no longer pushing this fart out to relieve herself from anger; No, she was doing this because it felt divine. The release of pressure went beyond what she could ever have imagined; She felt as though her entire body was being cleansed as pure relief and euphoria washed over her as the sound of this fart thudded around in her ear buds. The rumbling from her stomach had continued, despite not being heard over the sound of her fart, allowing her to keep pushing out this fart for what felt like forever. Jill was ecstatic over this fact, as she felt herself climbing higher into the realm of euphoria and bliss the longer she was able to keep ripping ass. She literally felt like her body was ejecting all of her negative experiences and trauma directly out of her body through this olfactory nightmare of a fart (Hell, this fart seemed to comparatively smell just as bad as the actual traumatic incident was). Though Jill knew this was impossible, it didn't stop her from feeling deep down as if it were true. And as far as trauma went... Well, Jill had a lot of it to let out. A LOT.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!
"UGH, FUCK YEAH!" Jill shouted as she finally released her grip on Brad's head, both from her hand and her all-devouring ass cheeks as she flexed her muscles in excitement. Brad fell to the ground, conscious but barely, as sweat spilled over his face (Sweat that mostly wasn't even his own). "Boo-yah, that felt fucking fantastic! Ah, I bet no one could top a fart like that!"
Jill cupped each of her ass cheeks with one hand (The size of her ass in comparison to her hands were considerable), and grinned. "My butt is practically a part of the S.T.A.R.S. Weapons Arsenal now, don't you think? Or should I say arse-nal? Ha!"
"HahahHAhahh..." Brad laughed, as if he were drugged. He certainly felt drugged, especially with the hanging lamp swaying from the earthquake of a fart casting dancing shadows all over the apartment.
"Alright, that was a really bad pun, so I know you aren't laughing because I'm a comedian..." Jill said modestly, inspecting the damage she had dealt to her pants. I'm gonna have to dissolve these clothes in acid... Fuck, it reeks... And I just bought these jeans this year... already torn apart...
"Ahahahaaha... you're right, I'm not laughing at your joke..." Brad began. "I'm laughing because... I can't fucking wait to make Umbrella pay for what they did to us."
Jill, practically bursting with glee that Brad still had some fight in him, propped him up by the shoulders. "Hell yes! Oooh, wait until I get my hands on those smarmy, pathetic, cowardly scientists. I'll be sure to subject them to my own Biohazards!" Jill declared, with a hint of sadistic insanity in her voice and expression. "Now, let's go over the plan I've set up! Oh, and let's be sure to finish that pizza!"
Jill sat Brad down at his kitchen seat, while she went to her fridge for the pizza. Brad watched Jill's butt as she walked, now clearly showing her baby blue underwear beneath the swish cheese like pants.
PPPppppprrrffftt!
Jill farted once more, but neither Jill nor Brad acknowledged a fart of that caliber after the one Jill just demonstrated. Jill hadn't even paused to release it, she just kept on walking towards the fridge.
BBRORRPP!
Another casual fart, causing the torn threads of her jeans to dance sporadically as she bent down to drag out the large pizza box from the shelf. Again, neither of them acknowledged it, and the smell was impossible to measure as the air quality in the room was already 100% in the proverbial shitter, but Brad did find himself amused (In the way someone watching a horror-movie villain make a shocking return after thinking they were dead would be amused), that Jill still had some gas left in her tank. Jill turned towards Brad, catching the look of amusement on his face after already having stuffed a slice of pizza into her mouth, and muttered "What's that look for?" as she brushed some cheese off of her bottom lip.
"Nothing, just thinking about how impressive of a woman you are." Brad said, telling the truth.
"Impressive?' Jill asked, as she placed a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling as if trying to remember something, chewing her pizza softly.
ppppppffffffvvvvVVVVVVOOOOORP!!!
" *sigh* Oh yeah, you got that right." Jill said in the cockiest voice she could muster. Her fart had started small, and cranked itself up as if her own gas was giving her a letter grade on how impressive she was - That is to say, extremely impressive. With her back to the fridge, the countless photographs, magnets, and brochures tacked onto the door rustled as if by a healthy breeze during the pinnacle of this fart. Brad had never seen one's gas affect the environment this horrendously, and this realization jabbed another sense of unreality upon him.
"Alright, don't push it." Brad said. He was shocked to discover Jill's gas didn't bother him any more. How could it? His sense of smell and taste are numb at this point. What's a few more farts going to do?
"Sorry Mr. Vickers, but this ass of mine isn't gonna quit just yet. Especially after all of this delicious fuel you've given me!" Jill said, shoving a second slice into her mouth. "And let me tell ya, this plan of mine is really complicated, so you're gonna be hear aaaallll night long with my stinky behind. How's that sound for your atonement?"
"I'm done being a coward! Do your worst, Miss Valentine!" Brad said, unable to break it to Jill that he literally wasn't capable of smelling things at this point.
"Oh, I will do my worst." Jill said ominously, but to Brad, it sounded a bit sexy. "I..." PRAFFT! "Will" BRAPP! "Do..." ppppft "My..." PRROOORRPP! "Worst...!" BBRRROOMMMBBBBPT!!
As Jill took a single step towards the kitchen table with each word of her previous sentence, her ass fired off another fart. Jill is seriously mastering this gassiness of hers... Brad thought, amused that just a few minutes ago this revelation would have struck fear into his heart, but now it only envoked a deeper fascination with Jill and what her incredible body was capable of.
"I kind of like this new, fearless Brad!" Jill said, finally taking her seat across from him. She then placed her elbow on the table, and outstretched a single finger towards Brad, as if pointing and accusing him of something. "Hey Brad, remember that game Barry and Chris used to play during long helicopter rides that drove us insane?"
"...Yes."
"Well, whattaya say we give it a try?" Jill said with a mischievous grin. "Pull my finger."
"..."
"C'mon, what happened to your bravery? Don't tell me you're scared of my butt off all things!"
"...Fine." Brad said as he pinched Jill's finger, and gave it a firm, confident tug.
As if activated by Brad's tug, Jill's stomach growled once again. Brad noticed Jill's face contorted into one of confusion, as she shifted a bit in her chair. Why is she confused? Brad thought. Surely she was planning to fart-
Before Brad could finish his thought, Jill pumped out her chest as if she took a sharp inhale, exposing some more boob flesh as her small, damp tank top began to wedge into her cleavage (ironically, this made her large, ample chest look an awful lot like a butt). Jill then brought a closed fist to her mouth, and with one final look of disgust, and to both of their surprise...
"BRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRPPP!!!"
Jill released a belch so monstrous, Brad thought she sounded an awful lot like a Tyrant on a rampage. Hell, this gastric belch might have sent a Tyrant running for the hills!
With Brad not realizing he was still tugging Jill's finger, her pumped out chest began to slowly recede as this gnarly belch continued, as if she were exhaling a storm's worth of air from her body. Jill had the decency to hold her free, clenched fist over her mouth as she belched, but this didn't stop the smell from stabbing Brad's nose, as if rejuvenating it back to life due to it's extremely different nature of smell. If Jill's farts were spicy, this was bitter, and physically caused Brad to recoil as the smell of garlic, cheese, and dairy smacked him in the face like a warm, wet fog.
Jill's sinuses began to burn as this hot belch poured from her esophagus and into her mouth, nostrils, throat, and then after escaping from her mouth, her eyes. Bits of spittle flung onto Jill's clenched fist as her hand felt the brunt of this heat blast, warming her hand up comedically fast. Jill was experiencing a bubbly sensation in her stomach, a sensation she imagined a cup of water must feel like when someone blew into it through a straw to make bubbles. Where is all of this gas even coming from!?!? Jill thought as her cheesy smelling burp continued to sloppily make it's way out of her. Is my body really this prolific?? R.P.D.'s medical examinations weren't kidding!!
When Jill's belch finally ended on a disturbingly wet note (Which gave Brad the image of a Tyrant drowning in acid), Jill looked at him with a look of shock; The kind of look you would expect a person in Brad's position to have on their face after witnessing a belch like that.
"Th-that did not come out the end I was expecting it too...!" Jill said, flabbergasted.
"Great..." Brad said, finally releasing Jill's finger after realizing he was still pinching it. Jill remained with her finger outstretched, too dazzled to move. "So now you've graduated from farting to burping. When will my sins be forgiven-"
PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT!!!
With a look of disappointment usually reserved for mothers, Jill produced a crude, loud, airy fart, cutting Brad off.
"Yeeeah, no. Sorry buddy, but I ain't done farting yet."
BBBBLLBLBLLLBLLBLBLLAAAP!
Jill followed up her announcement with a second, especially bubbly machine gun fart as the gas struggled to escape from her rotund behind. To Brad's horror, the smell of sandwiches and any ingredient you could even think to associate with them (Including peanut butter and jelly, to his surprise) actually registered in his nose, likely due to the hefty reviving spell her belch seemed to cast upon him.
Oh no...! Brad thought If she keeps alternating between burps and farts, I am a dead man!!
"Don't look so doom and gloom!" Jill said, now pointing her outstretched finger straight up. "You've got a whole night of this, remember?"
Jill continued to point upwards with her elbow still on the table. She squinted her eyes, bit the corner of her bottom lip, scrunched her nose, and leaned to the side, lifting her left buttcheek from the wooden kitchen chair. This was so obviously the pose one assumed before ripping major ass, that Brad instinctively cringed as he awaited for the grenade to go off. Jill's gut gurgled violently for a few seconds, but was soon drowned out by the actual fart - the fart that might as well have been a motorcycle engine revving up.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBB!!!
When the fart began, it was already of impressive magnitude and sound. However, during the 20 second span of this fart, it rapidly grew into a fart that rattled the very table they were sitting at. Hell, Brad could feel the vibrations in his own chair. During the fart's climax, Jill's bottom lip turned white as she bit harder down on it in concentration. Jill made it look easy - and it certainly was easy as gassy as she is - but her look was one of intense focus.
"Oooooh!" Jill moaned after both the fart and its surprisingly long lasting echo ceased. "Phew, my ass is on fire right now! That would have blasted Neptune and the other T-Virus sharks to the other side of the Aqua Ring!"
God. Help. Me. Brad prayed, as Jill lowered her as back onto the poor, poor kitchen chair. Jill then pounded her chest with one fist, as if trying to rid herself of leftover gas from her belch, cleared her throat, and reached for another slice of pizza. "Oough, ahem. Wow that fart did not smell right... I may need to use the bathroom soon."
Brad audibly gulped. Jill noticed, but continued on without commenting on it.
"Now then," Jill began. "It's time to rescue these missing people."