By: AnUnturned
PART 1
“We meet again, manfilth.”
Ethan Winters slowly raised his head, the chains around his neck rattling as he did. He knew that voice even without looking up, but his eyes were drawn to her all the same. It was hard not to stare at a beautiful nine-foot tall vampiress – even one that wanted to kill you.
“…Dimitrescu.” He grunted.
“That’s Lady Dimitrescu, you ignorant wretch.” Despite her words, she seemed to be in a good mood; probably because she had finally caught the intruder she’d spent the past few hours chasing around her castle. She was a spider, and he was a juicy fly caught in her web; he didn’t know what she intended to do with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be good.
She stepped toward him, forcing him to crane his neck to maintain eye contact. “You’ve been a very naughty boy, haven’t you Mr Winters? Wreaking havoc in my home, attacking me and my daughters… did you really think we would let you escape?” As she spoke she traced a gloved finger down his cheek. He shuddered and turned away, and she grabbed his jaw, forcing him forward. “But your luck has finally run out. Now you are in my hands, outsider. Now you will pay.”
There was a short, strained silence as they stared at each other before Ethan replied. “…so… what are you gonna do?” He muttered.
“Hm.” She released him and strode backward, stopping after a few steps. “That depends on you. I am not without mercy; if you beg me pathetically enough, if you grovel like a dog and plead for forgiveness…” she held up her hand and sprouted five long, sharp claws from her fingers. “…I shall grant you a quick death.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Ha ha… so stubborn.” She chuckled. She smiled elegantly at him, but Ethan saw her true emotions in her eyes. They burned with anger, hot, seething rage that a lesser creature would dare disrespect her. He swallowed, starting to regret his boldness. “No matter, then. You will soon learn the error of your ways.”
Bbbfffffffoooooooooooooooaaaaaarrrrrttttttt
A loud ripping noise suddenly cut the silence between them, catching Ethan by surprise. Lady Dimitrescu stood motionless, her smile broadening as she watched him blink in shock.
“What the hell was – did you just – did you just fart?”
“Eight seconds. A little on the short side for me, but then I suppose I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Don’t worry, you’ll see some real wind later.” She smiled. “Can you smell it?”
Ethan said nothing, merely staring in stunned silence. Weirdly, he couldn’t smell anything, despite the fart’s impressive volume and duration. But so what? What was the point of all this?
“Allow me to illuminate you.” She bent slightly and lifted her dress, exposing one pale leg up to the thigh, and waited. Nothing happened for a few moments, then just as he was about to ask if she was crazy – he smelled it. A slight aroma in the air, weak at first, but growing stronger. It went from bad to unpleasant, to downright rancid, and still it was getting worse. He could taste it on his tongue now, rich, spoiled meat and cheese. He began to gag.
“Potent, isn’t it?” Lady Dimitrescu grinned sadistically. “My dress is quite heavy; it acts as an effective insulator. Any gas remains trapped underneath it until I let it escape, so what you are smelling is a sort of cocktail of all the farts I’ve passed over the past few hours.” She dropped her dress and continued to watch him, studying him as though fascinated by his torment. “Well, Mr Winters? Would you like to sample more of my fragrance?”
“God, no!” He shook his head violently. “Are you insane? It stinks!”
“How unfortunate,” she laughed. “If you didn’t care for that, I’m afraid you’re really not going to like what comes next.” Suddenly her face became serious, and she adopted a tone that commanded authority. “Prepare him.”
Two dark figures emerged from the shadows on either side of Ethan and moved toward him. He had just enough time to wonder if they’d been there all along before they grabbed him, one holding him still as the other unlocked his chains. Once released he made a desperate bid for freedom, but could not best their inhuman strength, and only struggled helplessly as they forced his arms and legs into a strange harness.
Leather straps were placed around his limbs, chest and neck, then tightened painfully. When the figures were finished they began marching him forward; only then did he notice Dimitrescu looking over her shoulder at him, having turned to face the other way. She smiled and slowly lifted her dress, higher and higher, gradually revealing two long, solid legs that grew like tree trunks to connect to a wide, pale bottom the size of a beach ball. As he stared in horror, she gave him a wink and began to pull down her black lingerie underwear.
Ethan screamed, realising her intent – but it was too late. He was pressed against her amazonian form, and the figures began to attach him to her. First his legs were tied to her ankles, and his arms about her hips, so that he appeared to be hugging himself against her body. Then a belt was fastened around the back of his head, pushing it as far forward into her abyss of an ass crack as possible.
The stink was astonishing here, hundreds of stale farts and dried faeces repeatedly attacking his nose; just one whiff had his stomach lurching. He cried out and desperately pulled away, but for all his efforts only wedged himself a little deeper. Lastly, Dimitrescu’s dress was draped back over the two of them, leaving him trapped in her reeking cave.
“You may leave.” The figures bowed and returned swiftly to the shadows, vanishing from sight. Lady Dimitrescu turned to a wall length mirror, admiring herself. To the rest of the world, Ethan had disappeared completely. Two had become one.
“Welcome to your new home, Mr Winters,” she said, smoothing her dress. “It may be a little cosy, but it comes with an excellent view,” she chuckled. “Oh, forgive me. I still need to give you your housewarming gift.”
Frrrrraaaaaarrrrpppppppppppaaaaaaaaabbbbbbtttt
Burning torrents of shit wind barraged Ethan, stinging his eyes and invading his eyes and mouth. All of his senses were attacked by her stink, but none more than smell – beef and onion, creamy potato, he could taste all of it, decayed, digested and disgusting.
As she had foretold, the fart was trapped inside with him. What fumes had not been immediately sucked up his nose remained to swirl lazily around him, waiting to be inhaled. And to make matters worse, her dress insulated heat just as well as gas; pressed firmly to her hot rear he quickly began to swelter, and fat beads of sweat rolled slowly down her cheeks to splash against his.
“I imagine you’re regretting your earlier rudeness now, aren’t you, manfilth?” She asked him. “To think that all this could have been avoided. Ah, well. You can spend a month or two serving under me, and then we’ll see if you don’t beg for death’s sweet release…” She sneered evilly. “Although, I might prefer to keep you as my permanent stink slave. What do you think?”
She heard no response, not that she would have cared to hear one. With that, she turned to leave the room, testing her legs. She was pleased to find that the harness made little impact on her mobility on account of her impressive physique, and paused upon reaching the door; her eyes fluttered as she pushed another ghastly fart into Ethan’s waiting face.
Bbbbffffffffrrooooooooooooooooooooooooppppppppppp
“Now then. A brisk walk around the castle grounds, I think, in order to work up a nice sweat. Then we shall return to my private chambers for dinner. My servants will be preparing a generous spread for me, a rich, starchy, heavy meal. I’m rather looking forward to it. And as for you, Mr Winters…”
She patted her tummy, which gurgled audibly.
“Worry not. I’m preparing your dinner as we speak.”
And so she set about her day, happily contemplating the torments she would subject her new slave to. Ethan’s new home rose and fell rhythmically as she strode, and he too began to think on his future, doomed to accompany her stinky ass for the rest of his life. Before long he began to sob, broken by the mocking laughter ringing in his ears and the spicy silent-but-deadly burning in his nose.
PART 2
Lady Dimitrescu thrust open the dining room doors and strode inside, pausing to gaze upon the grand dinner that had been prepared for her. A wide variety of dishes lay spread across the length of the table, accompanied by fine vintage wines and expensive cheese boards, and all illuminated by candlelight.
“Ahh, it looks delicious, doesn’t it Mr Winters?” She asked, seemingly to no-one. “Oh, excuse me; you can’t see from down there, can you? But it certainly smells delicious, too! Take a good strong whiff and I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Unfortunately, Ethan Winters was still bound firmly to Lady Dimitrescu’s bottom. From his position, concealed beneath her dress with his head crammed between her pale cheeks, a “good strong whiff” would only fill his nostrils with the stench of raunchy farts and stale ass-sweat. He therefore declined her suggestion.
The two of them had just returned from a stroll about the castle grounds. Or rather, Lady Dimitrescu had been strolling, while effortlessly carrying Ethan along with her. Thanks to the leather harness that connected them, his nose had not left her crack for even a single moment, and had been subjected to enough fiery gas-blasts to singe his nose hairs. Worse still, her brisk pace had caused her to sweat excessively, and now both her ass and his face were soaked in the salty liquid. To his disgust, much of it had trickled down into his mouth.
“Now, then. Let us enjoy our meal.” She said, taking a seat at the head of the table. As she sat Ethan’s head was compressed between her ass and the cushion, forcing him farther between her sweaty cheeks. There was an audible squelch as she settled fully and wiggled her rear, getting comfortable while brushing her anus aggressively against his nose and smearing it in her filth.
She began to eat immediately, starting with a creamy, rich soup, before moving onto a beef dish served with fresh vegetables, then on to a course of mussels, and still there was more. There really was an astonishing amount of food prepared, enough to feed a large family – and yet it was all just for Lady Dimitrescu. Furthermore, she ate three meals of this size every single day.
“My somewhat larger-than-usual body requires correspondingly large meals to maintain,” she explained to Ethan. “I enjoy a diet of three extravagant feasts daily. The food is delicious, but as you may have noticed, it does make me a little gassy.”
Bbbbrrrrrmmmmmmmmmttt
He had noticed. With his nose pressed flush against her butthole, her farts were impossible to ignore; the horrific oniony stench snaked its way up his nostrils and elicited first a gag, then a choke, then a scream as it somehow grew worse and worse in intensity.
“Oh, is something the matter?” Lady Dimitrescu asked innocently. “Ahh, you’re hungry, is that it? Well, I’m preparing your dinner as promised, but you’ll need to be patient. After all, a luxury meal such as yours cannot be rushed.” She paused, thinking to herself. “Although, it hardly seems fair that you should receive nothing while I enjoy my dinner. Come, then; place your lips to my anus.”
When she felt no movement from her slave, her face suddenly turned dark. She sprouted a long, sharp claw from finger, and jabbed it into his side, just enough to draw blood. “Do not make me repeat myself, manfilth. Do it, now.”
Ethan gasped in pain and hurried to obey, wrapping his lips around her greasy orifice. It tasted hideously bitter and foul, and he had to fight his instinct to jerk his head back, but to his relief she retracted the claw.
“Good.” She smiled, her cheery demeanour returning as though it had never left. “And now, I shall reward your good behaviour.”
Pppphhhhhrrrooooooooooooooooooaaaattttttttttt
A hot plume of cheesy wind thundered into Ethan’s mouth, inflating his cheeks like a balloon. The fart was so voluminous that his cheeks strained painfully, and he was forced to swallow the rancid gas just to make room and ease some of the pressure.
“Ah. There! Now we both have tasty meals to enjoy. Oh, and you should eat that one up quick; extra helpings will be served shortly.” She chuckled evilly.
Dinner continued in this way for a further forty minutes, with Lady Dimitrescu enjoying the finest delicacies the country had to offer while periodically blasting Ethan with nauseatingly vile farts. To his credit, he somehow managed to gulp all of them down without incident – except for one particularly garlicky release, which caused him to turn his head away and retch. But a small stab from his Lady’s claws quickly had him back in position.
“My, what a delightful meal,” she sighed when she had finally finished, leaning back in her chair. She crossed her legs and squeezed out another airy toot.
Fffffffffffppppppppppppppptttttttt
“Dinner is always more enjoyable with company, don’t you agree?” She tittered. After taking a moment to pat her full stomach, and enjoy Ethan’s squirming, she rose slowly from her seat.
“Now then, I think I shall retire beside the fireplace for some light reading. There’s nothing like sitting by the fire with a good book and a bottle of Chateau Figeac.” She began to head for the door, and once again Ethan was forced to accompany her, the harness having effectively turned him into nothing more than a pair of panties.
“Oh, and I should mention…” She paused as she reached the door. “I imagine by now you’re becoming rather dehydrated, but I won’t be giving you anything to drink down there. My bottom produces an ample amount of sweat; if you are thirsty, you need merely stick out your tongue and… lick.”
With that she strode on, taking great pleasure in the disgust and despair she knew her slave would be feeling at those words. Her wicked smile grew just a moment later, as Ethan’s thirst finally made him desperate enough, and she felt his tongue lapping delicately at her back door.
*
A few hours later, Lady Dimitrescu entered her bedroom and shut the door behind her, humming happily as she did so. Hers had been a long and satisfying day of punishing her favourite plaything, but now she was ready for some beauty sleep.
Reaching back, she unzipped her dress and allowed it to slip off her body and onto the floor. Instantly a thick cloud of gas billowed outwards; a dense smog of the countless farts she had ripped that day, all trapped and condensed together beneath her dress, was finally free to diffuse throughout the room. She held her nose until the stench had spread itself thin, slightly offended by her own stench.
Lastly, she began to undo the many straps and fastenings that connected Ethan to her ass-crack. This was the moment he had been waiting hours for; as soon as he was released, and dropped limply to the floor, he threw his head back and took a deep, grateful breath of blissfully untainted air.
Ffffffffffffprrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapppppprrrrrrrtt
Unfortunately, his first breath outside of the amazon’s ass was immediately polluted by a scorching hot dry fart that filled his lungs with the scent of spoiled milk.
“Oh, excuse me. Did you want some fresh air? But then my air is the freshest of all, is it not?” She asked him, with mocking laughter. “Now, pay attention while I explain our sleeping arrangements.”
From her wardrobe she produced two new pieces of equipment, an ornate leather belt which she fastened around her waist, and an elegant silver collar for Ethan’s neck. “I had originally intended to have you sleep on the floor beside me, like a dog,” she explained as she adorned him. “But I’ve grown rather fond of your presence beneath me, Mr Winters. I felt it would be a terrible waste if my night farts were to go unappreciated, so you shall sleep with me instead!”
He fought the urge to scream in frustration as she brought out a short metal chain and attached one end to his collar, the other to her belt. Once again they were bound to one another, although thankfully this time he had a little more freedom of movement. Then he was practically lifted off his feet as Lady Dimitrescu climbed into bed, pulling him up with her and throwing the heavy covers over both of them.
“Comfortable?” She asked him. “This is a very expensive mattress, you know. I hope you’re able to enjoy it in between bursts of my… fragrance.”
Bbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrt
Ethan’s face was struck yet again by a beefy eruption, this one strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. He reflexively jerked backward, but the chain only allowed him to retreat as far as her upper thigh; not remotely far enough to escape the stench.
“Now now, no need to be agitated, Mr Winters. That fart isn’t going anywhere; these heavy sheets trap my gas just as effectively as my dress, so the smell will remain until you’ve fully absorbed it.” She ripped another rank blast as though to illustrate her point.
“That chain should give you a little extra breathing room, but please do not mistake that for mercy on my part. You see my farts are even longer, louder and smellier when I’m asleep, and if you were to receive them in the harness, at point blank range… I fear they may actually kill you. And believe me, I intend for you to serve me for a long, long time, my little manfilth.”
At her words, Ethan collapsed weakly, his will to resist squashed. There was no point in struggling; he knew he was no match for her physically, so he might as well save his energy until a better chance to escape presented itself.
Lady Dimitrescu sighed as she settled peacefully into her feather pillows, absent-mindedly stroking Ethan with her foot as she began to grow sleepy. “One last thing,” she muttered tiredly. “I must apologise for not feeding you yet. I’m sure by now you must be ravenous, but you’ll just need to wait a little longer…” Her stomach gave a low, foreboding gurgle. “I doubt you’ll have long to wait. Just keep sniffing my farts, they’re sure to wet your appetite.” She chuckled. “Well, pleasant dreams, Mr Winters.”
With that she turned over and soon began to snore, leaving Ethan to suffer quietly beneath the covers. He too lay down his head and tried his best to find rest, in spite of the poisonous atmosphere. He knew he would surely need his strength for tomorrow.
*
Sssssssssppppprrrrrrrrrrrrrrbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrtttt
Ethan jerked awake, rudely awoken by a distinctly bitter-smelling wet fart. This was not the first time he’d been awoken this way; Lady Dimitrescu would periodically release farts loud and/or smelly enough to wake him, and true to her word, they were far worse than any he had been subjected to during the day. But this time, something was different. He groggily tried to understand what was happening as he felt her legs shift around him, then the cover was lifted. Before he knew it his chain drew taught, and he was suddenly being pulled forward as his mistress climbed out of bed.
He hit the floor and attempted to scramble to his feet, all while the chain continued to yank him by his neck. The vampiress was so physically powerful that she was able to walk completely unaffected by his weight, and marched forward knowing that her slave would either match her pace or be dragged along regardless. Somehow he managed to keep up, and followed his Lady into an adjacent room before she shut the door behind them.
Still ignoring him, she reached into a cabinet and brought out a metal bowl which she placed on the floor in the centre of the room. Then she detached her end of the chain from her belt and secured it to the bowl, looping it around the handle a few times to make it shorter, so that Ethan’s head was positioned uncomfortably in the middle of it.
“Wha – what are you doing?” He asked, growing fearful.
“Hm? That should be obvious. I’m fulfilling my earlier promise to you.” she replied, forcing Ethan’s hands behind his back and fastening a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. Then she stood and placed a hand on her stomach, which groaned ominously, and smiled. “Dinner is about to be served.”
Ethan screamed. He knew what was coming, but had no way to stop it. With his hands cuffed and the chain securing him to the bowl, he could only watch and struggle uselessly as she winked and began to squat over him, her twin pale moons parting to expose a puckering anus tinged with brown.
Sppprrrrrrrrrrrat!
She began by firing off a short sharp shart that spattered waste across the bowl and Ethan’s face alike. His scream was cut short as he caught some of the spray in his open mouth, causing him to retch and gag, but she gave him no time to recover. With a small push she birthed a thick, girthy log that grew to almost 9 inches before she released it, and it fell to splatter on Ethan’s head.
“No, no no! – ” Her hot, sticky shit hit him right in the face, coating his mouth and nose in the foul bitter matter. He thrashed about, jerking his head to the side, and the log rolled off and into the bowl; but not without leaving a long brown streak, and debris he had no way to clean off. And while he was still cringing at the disgusting smell and taste, she pinched off another fat turd for him.
He didn’t see it coming. This log, not as long as the first but slightly broader, slapped him with enough force to make him gasp. This unfortunately also meant he got some of it in his mouth, coating his tongue with her waste; his stomach heaved and he frantically tried to spit it out.
“Oh dear, is it not to your liking?” Lady Dimitrescu inquired sarcastically, relishing both in her release and Ethan’s suffering. “How strange. My meal was certainly delicious going in, so surely it should be coming out? Perhaps further samples will change your mind. Worry not; I have plenty more to offer you.”
She continued to relieve herself on top of her slave for another twenty minutes, painting Ethan in the absolute worst stench he had experienced in his entire life. He strained every muscle in his body to try and free himself, or dodge out the way, or even just shield himself with his hands – but nothing worked. He could only lie beneath her and suffer as her shit piled up around him in the bowl. Soon, he couldn’t even turn his head without sinking it into one of her steaming piles.
Unfortunately, the worst was still yet to come. Ethan stared up in horror as Lady Dimitrescu moaned softly and began to push out her biggest log yet; as wide around as his arm and half as long, and stinking so fiercely he could smell it over the rest of the bowl even before it dropped. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as it oozed slowly out of her asshole, growing bigger and bigger, until finally –
SPLAT
The monstrous log buried his entire head, leaving almost no trace of the man beneath it and completely covering his eyes, nose and mouth in filth. He panicked and flailed wildly, unable to breathe, before he realised he only had one option. He had to eat her shit, or suffocate on it.
Ethan held in a sob as he opened his mouth wide and bit off a chunk of the mighty turd. Instantly his stomach rolled; he almost puked, and was forced to fight every instinct in his body, which screamed at him to spit the toxic sludge out. Instead, he began to eat.
He bit down and felt the log’s foul, warm juices explode across his tongue, overwhelming it with the acrid taste of rotten meats and digested vegetables. He retched and groaned, and his whole body shook with revulsion, but still he forced himself to steadily chew and swallow.
It took him five nightmarish bites before he finally broke the surface, and greedily sucked down as much tainted oxygen as he could. Somehow in his convulsions he had managed to shake the poo from his eyes, and looked up wearily to see Lady Dimitrescu no longer squatting above him. Now she was staring down at him, hands on her hips and an expression of pure sadistic pleasure on her face.
“How appropriate. Manfilth, covered in my filth,” she sneered. “I hope you’re thoroughly savouring every bite of my caviar. You’re the only person in the world lucky enough to taste it, after all.”
He swallowed dryly. The old Ethan would have tried to defy her, hurled insults and fought to protect what little dignity he had left. But with shit smeared across his face and tongue, he knew he was defeated. “Please,” he begged. “I’m… sorry. Just please let me out of here.”
“Out? And where exactly would you go? You certainly aren’t getting back into my bed. Look at you, you’re filthy! Plus, you’ve hardly made a dent in your dinner. No, I think you’ll be spending the remainder of the night here, Mr Winters.”
His heart sank at her words, and he watched wordlessly as she stepped around the room. She grabbed some toilet paper and wiped a few times, tossing the used tissues carelessly toward him, then bent toward the bowl. Careful not to touch any of the mess, she unwound Ethan’s chain a few times to allow him a little extra movement. He still couldn’t escape, but he was able to reposition himself slightly.
“Just to be absolutely clear,” she glared at him once she was finished. “It would displease me greatly if the meal I worked so hard to prepare were to go uneaten. If I come back tomorrow morning, and find that bowl to be anything other than spotless…” Her eyes shined with malice. “All that you have endured thus far will seem positively pleasant in comparison to what I’ll do to you then. So, you’d better get to work!”
With that she chuckled evilly and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Ethan was left alone with only her shit for company, its diabolical stench making his eyes water even now. He turned slowly to face the many huge logs, still hot and steaming, and wondered how he could ever get through them all. He had almost vomited after a few bites!
“Should I just give up now, and accept the consequences?..” he asked himself quietly. He couldn’t imagine how any punishment could possibly be worse than this – but then he saw her evil smile in his mind, and heard her cruel laughter. He might not be able to imagine, but she surely could. And that thought filled him with terror.
Ethan closed his eyes, deeply regretting having ever set foot in Castle Dimitrescu. Then, he bent down slowly, and began to eat his dinner.
PART 3
Lady Alcina Dimitrescu strode through the halls of her castle, the clack of her heels echoing off the polished marble floor. Her pace was hurried, her mood irritable. She had just come up from the dungeons after finding her daughters had gotten carried away during an interrogation, and would be needing another prisoner.
She passed a stairway landing, where two servants were hard at work scrubbing the upper steps. Alcina paused and drew a gloved finger across the banister, picking up a few small specks of dust.
“You call this clean?” She demanded of the pair. “Dolts! Start the entire wing over again, and scour it properly this time. Or I’ll give you over to my daughters for practice.” She stalked off without waiting to hear their excuses.
Another servant was waiting for her on the approach to her chambers. “Ah, my lady? Lord Heisenberg has been calling. He says he wishes to speak with you.”
Alcina curled her lip. She was in no mood to deal with that man-child’s impetuousness. “I am busy. Tell him to try again later.” She commanded, without stopping.
“Y-yes, of course,” the servant came scampering after her. “It’s just that my lord was quite insistent – ”
“Are you deaf, or merely stupid? Later!” She snarled, wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind her.
Even here, in the peace of her own private quarters, Alcina’s temper would not settle. She stalked angrily across the room and drew the curtains across a set of Venetian windows; then she sat down hard before her custom vanity mirror, glaring at her reflection.
“Fools and failures, every one of them,” she muttered, leaning forward to apply a smear of lipstick. “Why must I be surrounded by such incompetence?”
BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
With a grunt, Alcina unleashed a bassy fart so thunderous it rattled the mirror in front of her. She sat back on the leather stool, sighing quietly with relief. Then she felt a stirring beneath her.
“Oh?” For the first time, her spirits lifted slightly. “How rare. Are you enjoying that one, Mr Winters?”
The man nestled deep in the abyss of her crack did not reply. It had been almost two years since Ethan Winters had set foot in Castle Dimitrescu; two years since she had first stuffed him inside her bottom, bound tight to her body with a series of belts and harnesses and hidden away beneath her long, flowing dress.
The man’s weight was almost nothing to Alcina’s huge, powerful frame, and he had been down there so long now it was easy to forget he existed. Even her putrid, rotting farts didn’t get a response most of the time, unless they were especially long or foul.
“But that was only five or six seconds, wasn’t it? Nothing too remarkable.” She mused. “I suppose it must be the smell that’s got you squirming, then?”
FFPPPPPARRRRT
She forced out a shorter, hotter blast, that burned slightly coming out. And again, she felt her slave’s pitiful rustling between her cheeks.
“Yes, definitely the smell,” she chuckled. “It must have been my breakfast. Oysters and devilled eggs are a lethal combination, it would seem. I’ll have to remember that.”
Alcina’s mood had brightened considerably. It was very amusing to think that while this man spent every waking moment in her hot, fleshy prison, suffering in her stink and filth, she had become so used to torturing him that she could occasionally forget he was even there.
Now she thought about it, in fact, the manthing was probably due a release soon. She’d been steadily increasing the lengths of time she kept him in her ass ever since his capture, but she’d set reminders to free him every now and then. Otherwise she risked killing him accidentally, and losing her favourite plaything.
“When am I set to let you out, again? Let’s see.” She reached for a planning notebook, kept conveniently on the desk. “Hmm… ah, three days ago. My apologies, Mr Winters. Still, you didn’t mind your extended stay, did you?”
She clenched her boulder-like buttocks around his puny head, resisting the urge to squeeze until she felt a pop. Then she rose dramatically, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “Very well then. Time for your break.”
With one hand she raised the hem of her skirt, revealing her long, pale legs and the man fastened between them. With the other she began unbuckling the many straps securing his ankles, wrists and neck. As his limbs were freed they dangled limply beneath him, too weak to move – but not his head, which remained clamped firmly between her heavy, heaving cheeks.
“How precious,” Alcina laughed, swaying her hips. “You just can’t bear to leave, can you?”
In the end she needed both hands to pry her ass apart, and finally Ethan Winters fell free, dumped unceremoniously like a turd in her toilet. He collapsed to the ground in a kneeling position, chest rising and falling as he gasped desperately for air.
“Ugh. Filthy.” Alcina sneered as she bent down to look at him. “You truly are a disgusting little creature.”
Ethan was a shell of his former self. Month after month of subsisting solely off her body, with only her ass-sweat to drink and her waste for food, had transformed him into a frail, malnourished puppet, little more than skin and bones.
His face, too, was a mess. He was covered in so much of her sweat that his head might as well have been dunked underwater. Debris from some of her wetter farts was splattered across his face like rancid freckles, particularly around his nose and mouth. It looked like he’d dipped the tip of his nose in brown paint.
“Revolting. You’re lucky I let you stay with me. Surely nowhere else would have you, fouling up the room with your mere presence.” Alcina straightened to leave. “Enjoy your break. I have a few matters to attend to, but they shouldn’t take more than an hour. Then we’ll get you tucked back in my bottom. I believe you lasted a little over three months down there this time? We’ll try for four next.”
She waved a hand, chuckling darkly to herself as she walked away.
“Wait.”
The vampiress paused. She turned slowly back toward him. “What did you say?”
“Wait.” The manthing croaked, his voice thick and raspy. “Please.”
Alcina stared at him. Ordinarily, speaking out of turn like this – to give her orders, no less – would be met only with swift, furious punishment. But something in his tone had piqued her curiosity. “What do you want?”
“I’ve been… thinking. For a long time.” Ethan shuffled, putting both hands on the floor to steady himself. “I’ve changed my mind. I want… to accept your offer.”
“My offer?” Alcina scoffed. “What are you babbling about? I made no offer.”
“You did,” he insisted. “When I arrived. The first day. You told me, if I begged… like a dog.” He coughed. “You would grant me… mercy.”
At once the realization came to her. Ethan wasn’t simply using his hands to balance himself; he had placed them on the ground, palms facing upward, in a display of abject submission. His head wasn’t just lowered, it was bowed as if in reverence.
“Yes,” she murmured, slowly. “Yes, I remember now. I gave you the option of a quick death.” A shiver of excitement ran down her spine. “As I recall you threw that kindness in my face. With some significant disrespect, I might add. Are you regretting that decision now, Mr Winters?”
He nodded.
“Hm. I’m not so sure.” She strode up to him, placing one heeled foot beside his head. “Show me.”
Ethan hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he took her heel in both hands, caressing it almost lovingly. He began planting kisses, on the tip of her shoe, and the sides, and then on her foot itself. Alcina’s pulse quickened as she felt the warmth of his lips brushing her ankle.
“Now tell me again, from this position.” She commanded. “What do you want?”
“I want you… please… to end it. My lady.” He kissed the bridge of her foot again. “My goddess.”
The vampiress shuddered with pleasure. After two long years, the heat, the pressure, the stink and the shit had taken their toll, and her stubborn little slave had finally broken. The strong, proud manthing knelt at her feet, worshipping her of his own free will, in the desperate hope of earning her favour. The question was, what to do with him?
“Very well, Mr Winters.” She said softly. “I will grant your request. I, Lady Alcina of House Dimitrescu, hereby sentence you to death.” She let the word hang there for a moment. Then she smirked. “Death… by life imprisonment, in my ass!”
Ethan looked up at her, eyes wide.
“That’s right,” she gloated. “Once I offered you mercy, but that chance has passed. You exist now as nothing more than an object, a tool for my amusement. Why should I throw away a perfectly functional tool? One I expect to get many, many more years of service out of.”
“No,” he whispered.
“Oh, yes,” Alcina relished. “I’m going to do everything I can to keep you sniffing and slobbering away at my behind for as long as possible. I’ll be checking in on you more regularly from now on, I think, and I shall arrange a doctor to check from time to time there’s no immediate danger of you expiring. It will still be difficult, of course. I doubt a normal human could last much longer under this treatment. But you, Mr Winters? You’re a survivor.” She leaned down toward him, grinning. “I believe we have decades of each other’s company to look forward to.”
The look of sheer despair that passed over Ethan’s face was so pitiful, Alcina couldn’t help but burst out laughing. With one hand she seized his neck and lifted the manthing effortlessly into the air, carrying him into an adjacent room.
“A slight change of plans. We’ll postpone your break for the time being. All this excitement has rather stirred something up inside me.”
She strode into a guest room and deposited Ethan on the floor beside a four-poster bed, propping him up so he was sat with his back against the frame and his head lay face-up on the mattress. Then the vampiress stood over him, flashed a smile, and draped her dress over his upper body.
FFFBBLLAAABBBBTTBB
The fart was rippling out of her before she’d even finished sitting down. Alcina dropped the rest of the way, slamming her ass onto Ethan’s face and bouncing until his nose was settled nicely, flush against her anus; just in time for another blast.
PPRRBBT
“Ahh. Short but sweet. I assume, at any rate; I can’t smell a thing up here.”
PPPBBBBBBTTTTTBBBBLL
“My, they’re just bursting out of me today! You’re a lucky little fart sniffer, aren’t you?”
Alcina laughed sadistically, rubbing her greasy pucker into Ethan’s nostrils. She could feel the warmth of his quick, panicked breath on her sensitive skin, and began grinding harder. Her asshole puckered outwards as if kissing the tip of his nose as it prepared to unleash more gas.
BBBRRRRRRUPPPPPPPPRRRPP
This last fart was a messy one. Alcina felt it bubble wetly against the manthing’s face, and he gave a whine that vibrated up through her body. She laughed as he tried to struggle, legs kicking feebly in protest, but put a stop to it with one firm clench of her cheeks.
“Make sure not to squirm about too much,” she warned. “If these sheets end up stained, there will be severe consequences for you.”
The gas barrage continued, and the rumbling in the vampiress’ stomach suggested it would last for quite some time. Not that it mattered. As mistress of the house, she had all the time she desired. And as her personal fart-eating slave, Ethan Winters had even more.
Eventually her guts would settle. The manthing would get his break, and Alcina would have to attend to the little annoyances popping up around the castle. But at some point, she realised, her bad mood caused by those annoyances had evaporated. Her disrespectful colleagues, her useless servants – now, it seemed, they hardly bothered her at all.
“I suppose, on reflection, there are worse duties.” She chuckled. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Winters?”
BBBBBRRRAAAAPPPP