By: Vharala
Claire Redfield awoke to find herself bathed in the static glow of an old cathode ray tube. The outdated set looked right at home in it's dilapidated surroundings, of which Claire glimpsed through bleary eyes.
She was in a dark room that was lit only by the television itself. Cold concrete made up the walls, it's surface cracked and grimy. There was nothing else in the room except for the TV and the rotting bunk that Claire was laying upon. These were certainly not the type of lodgings she was accustomed to.
Sitting upright, she tried to recall how she ended up here. She remembered being at Terra Save, and then she was assaulted by a group of people clad entirely in black outfits that obscured their identity. Everything after that was a blur that she could only recount brief glimpses of. There had been bright lights along the ceiling, her arms and legs bound as she was carted around on a gurney. The same people that had kidnapped her had spoken to one another, but their voices had melted into a unintelligible drone to her fogged hearing. It was clear that she had been drugged, though knowing that did little to change things. Her memory was too hazy to puzzle much out, but there was one thing that stuck out.
She had been taken to a room and left there to stare at a monitor. Her bindings had prevented her from looking anywhere else, and so she obediently watched the swirls and shapes that lit up the screen. Claire couldn't tell how long she had been in there. It was possible that it was only a few hours, but it felt like weeks. The hypnotic recording had been playing on a loop, boring into her psyche something that eluded her conscious state. Claire had enough experience with the shadier side of humanity to know that whatever it was, it couldn't have been good.
The bunk's rusty joints squeaked as she got to her feet. Nothing she remembered explained why she was here, exactly. And so she'd have to find out for herself.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Claire realized that she wasn't just in some dusty old room; she was in a cell. Corroded metal bars lined up where one of the walls should have been, and through them she could look down along a desolate hallway that was illuminated by some moon light that was peaking through a small crack in the ceiling.
With nothing to lose, Claire wrapped her hands around the bars on the cell door and pushed. She had hardly exerted any effort at all when the door slipped off it's hinges and fell forward onto the ground. The ensuing rattle echoed down the hallway and probably reached far into the abandoned complex. Despite her relief at realizing that she wasn't a prisoner, Claire couldn't help but wonder why someone would go through all of the trouble of abducting her just to lock her inside an easily escapable cell; and in an empty prison no less.
"Hey!" Yelled a voice from somewhere further into the cell block. "Is anyone out there!?"
"I guess the prison isn't so empty after all." Claire thought. The sound of the door clattering against the concrete would have alerted anyone nearby, so at least she knew that she wasn't alone.
Claire proceeded down the hallway, keeping her pace slow and cautious in case she ran into any unseen danger. Whoever was responsible for bringing her here, she doubted that they had her best interests in mind. As she crept along, she became uncomfortably aware of pain in her gut. It was nothing too severe, but it felt like her insides had been tied into a knot. It reminded her of some of her worst bathroom experiences, and now was certainly a bad time to be feeling this way.
Up ahead, she spotted a pair of hands reaching out through a set of bars. Even at this distance, Claire could see that they had fared better against the ravages of time than those of her own cage, so whoever was inside was likely trapped. As Claire walked up to the cell, she saw that the prisoner inside was a woman a few years younger than herself. She was wearing a punkish combination of a jacket with pink lining that matched her lipstick, a well worn short bearing a rebellious slogan, and a pair of shorts that left most of her thighs exposed.
"Claire? What are you....?" Said the girl, a look of recognition on her face as her liberator came into view. "No, never mind. Just get me out of here already."
"Moira?" Claire gasped in reply. "What was Barry Burton's daughter doing in a place like this?"
Now was not the time for questions, at least not when there was a cell door between them. Claire felt the strain in her gut again as she pondered where the release mechanism was. Without knowing the layout, she could be wandering for quite some time before she stumbled upon them, and even then they might have lacked power. She was so preoccupied thinking about it that she hadn't noticed that Moira was pointing at the wall behind her. Fearing the worst, she turned to face some sort of threat and was quite taken aback when all that she saw was a hook on the wall; and hanging from it, a set of keys.
Unlike anything else she had encountered so far, the keys were in immaculate condition. The only speck of dirt on them came from her hands when she took them off the wall. If this prison relied solely on these locks, then this place must have been even older than she had guessed.
"Alright, here goes." She said, selecting a random key from the set of four. The lock accepted the key without resistance, and with a quick turn Moira was freed.
"Finally." Moira sighed, sliding open the metal gate and stepping out of her cell. "I've been yelling for help for hours. All I remember is these creeps kidnapping me. I don't remember much after that, only that I was taken to some weird room where they like tried to brainwash me or something. It was really messed up."
"Did they hurt you? Inject you with something?" Claire asked urgently, her mind jumping to thinking of some unscrupulous business practices by a certain mega corporation.
"No, nothing like that." Moira assured her, seeing how worried Claire was at the possibility. "I've just had some uncomfortable bloating, that's all. Maybe I'm just hungry. I have no idea when I last ate."
Not wanting to worry her, Claire murmured her agreement. The same feeling that Moira had described was exactly how she felt now. It was possible that Moira was right and that this was nothing more than hunger pains, but this entire situation was too suspect for her to so readily believe in such a coincidence.
"Fine, just let me know the second you feel something strange." Claire told her. "It might be nothing, but it doesn't hurt to be too careful."
"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Moira responded. "So what's the plan, anyway?"
"We look for an exit." Claire explained, simply. "If something comes up, then we face it. I've gotten out of worse scraps than this before. I just wish that I had a shotgun."
An ominous gurgling noise bubbled from Claire's belly. It was so unusually loud that Moira had actually started looking around for something sneaking up on them. Another groan was enough to pinpoint the source, and Moira gave Claire a concerned look just before the redhead blew out the back of her pants.
PPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPTTTTT!!!!!
So sudden was the fart that Claire took a moment to process that it had come out of her own ass. She normally possessed reasonably good discipline when it came to her bodily functions, so it was a surprise to herself to have produced a stink bomb of such magnitude that it's deep notes echoed off of every wall, and it's stench brought to mind a sewage leak.
"Fuck! That stinks like hell!" Moira exclaimed, covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve.
For a long moment, Moira looked at Claire as though she was deeply embarrassed for her. It was a shame that Claire felt too, but any high ground that the Barton girl was standing on was pulled away when her own cheeks parted and expelled a foul wind that was easily Claire's equal, if not stronger.
PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHRRRRRBBBBLLLPPPPPTTTT!!!!!!!
Where's Claire's gas had been airy, Moira's was damp and wet. She made the check of shame as she patted the back of her shorts, glad that she hadn't had an accident, but red faced all the same.
"You didn't hear that." Moira said pointedly. "And even if you did, it's not like you didn't fart too."
The younger woman seemed preoccupied on making excuses for her flatulence, but Claire was already thinking too much to care. Just from knowing her own body, Claire knew that she had never made a fart that big before; and judging by Moira's crimson cheeks, neither had she. Her mind swam with a thousand explanations, most of them mundane and placing the blame on her fart squarely on her own control. That's when she remembered.
Swirling imagery and distorted symbols. Her eyes had been trained on them for what seemed like forever, and yet she had to struggle to recall any of it. Words flashed on the screen she had been forced to watch, some of them linked to images, others not. One stood out to her now; the picture of something that had been her salvation many times over.
"Shotgun...." She said.
BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!
In unison, both girl's butts spoke up. It was a deafening cacophony of deep rumbling notes as their farts melted into each other, creating an odor that could have woken the dead. Given Claire's previous experiences, a part of her was serious when she hoped that it wasn't the case.
"What the fuck!?" Moira exclaimed, angry at her own ass for speaking out of turn.
"It's a trigger word." Claire realized, the reality of what she and Moira had undergone sinking in. Small snatches of her last few days returned, returning to her the living nightmare she was put through in that room.
"A what?" Moira asked.
"A trigger word." Claire repeated, her voice growing more confident as the pieces fell into place. "It's like hypnotism. We've been implanted with triggers which force us to do something on a subconscious level."
"So when you said shotgun....?"
On cue, another blast rang out as each of their ladies let out another potent wave of air that had stewed inside their bowels for days without release. Even Claire, who had seen some pretty horrific sights over the years, was starting to gag on the smell coming from her ass, not to mention her companion's brand of stink.
"Sorry." Moira apologized, wafting the smell away from her nose. "I guess that means you were right."
"Guess so."
"But why program us to fart?" Moira questioned. "Doesn't that seem a little.... Childish?"
"Don't try to fathom the motivations of those that like to play god with others." Claire cautioned her. "Some want world domination, while others are content to just laugh at those whose lives they've affected. I don't know what breed of madman is responsible for our current condition, but if making us fart is all there is to it, then we're getting off easy."
"So, we're still going to try and get out of here, right?" Moira asked, uncertainly.
"Of course." Claire assured her. "Subliminal conditioning should be something we can overcome with time. And if not? Well, we'll just have to be a little more careful around the S word."
Satisfied, though not wholly comforted, Moira fell in line behind Claire as she set off down the hallway. They deliberately kept their conversation limited. For all they knew, shotgun wasn't their only trigger phrase, and they were weary of letting more farts loose. Even if they were aware that their gas was outside of their control, it didn't make the act of farting any less embarrassing.
Claire took point, keeping her movements slow and cautions. Partly that was because she didn't want to upset her bowels, but there was also the fact the she was unarmed to take into account. As barren as the complex they were in looked, there was no telling what was around the next corner. With Moira in tow, it fell to her to be the strong one in this situation.
They followed the halls until at last they came to a dead end. The roof had partially collapsed, leaving heavy debris blocking their only path. They had passed several gates on the way here, but all had been locked and they set of keys they had wasn't made for them.
"Now what to we do?" Moira asked. "I know you're pretty tough and all, but I don't think we're going to be able to move all that."
"So we go up." Claire suggested, pointing towards a darkened corner. On the floor was a heavily rusted grate, and above it, the place it had fallen from.
"Through the vents?"
"Do you see a better option?" Claire asked. "Here, give me a boost up. I'll go first."
"Oh no." Moira argued. "If we're going into a cramped an tight space, then I want you behind me."
Claire saw her reasoning and decided not to argue the point. She didn't want to stay in this place any longer than she had to, and it was probably a better idea for her to take the rear anyway.
She helped Moira up first, and then awkwardly pushed herself off a section of cracked wall in order to gain the height she needed. Moira was already shuffling ahead by the time she got up, clearly in just as much of a hurry as Claire was to get out of here.
The ventilation shaft was cramped and dark. Every surface was covered in dust and caked in grime, covering the two girls in filth as they crawled along. What little light they had was provided by the occasional grate, but there was little to see in such tight quarters. Claire's only view was of Moira's backside, though she did the girl a favor and didn't let her eyes linger long.
Judging from the brief glimpses they had of the rooms below, they had already passed by the blocked passageway and were now above a series of medical examination rooms. Each room housed several beds, their sheets blackened with decay and mold. There were some instruments too, carts of equipment fallen to their sides and scattering scalpels and other such things across the floor. It could very well have been routine for a prison facility, but given that they had both been hypnotized to some degree, Claire suspected that not everything was as it seemed. She was formulating theories on their circumstance when her head bumped into something solid.
Moira had stopped in her tracks, and now that she was thinking straight, Claire could tell why. It was still to dark to see past her, but it was what she could hear that worried her.
Something was ahead of them. It's breathing was short and piercing, easily distinguishable from their own as they were both holding their breath as best as they could. It was moving, dragging itself through the ducts with a slow and cumbersome movements. Claire's imagination was running wild with all manner of creatures it could possibly be, and why it hadn't attacked them yet. It may have just been passing by, or perhaps it hadn't noticed them yet. In these confines, neither of them could put up much of a fight if it came their way.
Moira must have been thinking the same thing. She suddenly started moving backwards, her retreat catching Claire by surprise. Before she knew it, her face was pressed deep into her companion's ass, and to make matters worse, Moira had a bout of terror gas.
pppppppppphhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrtttttttttt!!!!!
A low pitched whine whistled out of Moira's butt. It stank of fear and old cabbage, a musty stench that only had one place to go.
It was undoubtedly a low point in the life of Claire Redfield as she felt the stink run up her nose. The smell alone set her nostrils afire, and she had to brace herself to avoid gagging. Her lungs ached for air, but every breath was just more of Moira's fart as she continued backing up and pressing her hindquarters deeper into the face of the redhead. Claire's mouth filled with the girl's gas, it's sick taste settling upon her tongue. As humiliating as it was, she had no choice but to endure it until they could make it out of the vent safely.
Just when Claire had about as much as she could take, she heard the deep gurgling from the abyss of Moira's ass. There was always the chance that it was another quiet squeaker, but if it was loud then they were both in trouble. Choosing one evil over the other, Claire buried her nose between Moira's cheeks just in time for the fart to wash over her.
Her caution had been justified. Moira's second fart was much louder than the first, and there was no doubt that it would have alerted whatever creature lay ahead of them if Claire hadn't dampened the sound with her face.
There was a tense silence that followed. The two women lay completely still, and for a moment Claire thought that stewing in her friend's gas had been worth it. Then the creature's slithering started drawing closer and she knew it had been for nothing.
With a sudden lurch, the ground fell out from under them as the shaft collapsed. They crashed to the ground in a deafening clattering of metal, landing inside one of the wards. Claire and Moira quickly escaped the fallen vent, but they weren't alone.
The creature lay between them in the center of the room. It was vaguely shaped like a man, though it's flesh was rotting and it's features deformed. Where there should have been a head was instead a mound of scarred and blackened tissue. It's arms were unnaturally long and narrowed into jagged claws that dripped a thick ooze onto the floor. One of it's legs was made of nothing more than gray musculature, while the other had been severed beneath the knee. As Claire and Moira backed up against opposite walls, the creature staggered to standing height and began twitching it's shapeless head.
Claire was powerless without a weapon. Nor could she leave Moira and run. There had to be a way out of this for the both of them, something she could do. She forced herself to look at the abomination in front of her, and that's when she realized why it had been so slow to attack before.
It was blind.
The thing twitched at every sound that they made, down to even the slightest breath. There was little doubt in Claire's mind what would happen if it pinpointed one of them, but she couldn't simply hope to slip by unnoticed. It may not have been certain of the prey in it's vicinity, but it was approaching Moira with a curiosity that Claire didn't like one bit. She had to get it's attention before it reached Moira, but how? Unlike the other wards they had passed, this one was barren. There was nothing to throw or knock over, and that left her with very few options. If she called out or hit the wall behind her, then the monster would just come straight at her instead. There had to be some way of of attracting it's attention without giving away the fact that she was a person. A very edible person.
Every instant that she didn't act was another opportunity for the creature to strike at Moira. There was only one thing for it, no matter the damage to her dignity.
"Shotgun."
Her words were a low whisper, but the reaction was anything but. Claire felt something well up inside her, a bloated pocket of gas in a hurry to make it's exit.
PPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHLLLLLLLLLRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTT!!!!!
A fart of questionable texture bubbled out of her ass. A spray of rancid sweat blew against her underwear, though given the wetness of her gas she was glad it wasn't worse. The creature immediately turned towards her, but rather than stay in once place, Claire inched ever so closer to the ward's only exit. Alerted by her fart, the monster prowled over to where she had been. Just as things looked like be handled by a simple distraction, two slits opened up in the monster's mess of features and it took an unmistakably deep breath.
The sound may have fooled it, but it wasn't relying on hearing alone. It started sniffing the air, and unfortunately for Claire, it was zoning in on the putrid stink wafting from her ass. It stalked ever closer to her, and Claire pondered the possibility that her fart could have been the end of her. The creature flexed it's outstretched claws, coming to within an inch of scraping her cheek with it.
BBBBBBRRRRRRRPPPPLLLLPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!!!!
From across the room came the most wonderful sound Claire had heard in her entire life. Following the older woman's example, Moira had triggered her own gassy expulsion. The hot air of her fart was passing through her pants, adding yet another layer of stink to the fabric. Claire could smell it from the other side of the ward, and even over the stench of decay coming from the creature.
To their salvation, the monster turned back to Moira. Claire shared a look with her companion that was a wordless agreement to never mention this again. Between them, they alternated their farts to attract the creature's attention as they slowly inched towards the exit. It was an unconventional plant, to say the least, though Claire was never one to argue with results. They made it to the threshold of the room at the same time, shutting the door behind them and barring it with a rusty pipe that was laying in the ground. Claire half expected the monster to break the door down, but it seemed content in it's confinement for now.
Free of the monster's pursuit, the two of them found themselves in a reception area. Everything within was in ruins, with the sole exception of the sweetest sight they had seen all day. It was the public entrance to the complex, or in this case, their exit. Claire approached the set of double doors not really believing that escape would be this easy.
As luck would have it, she was right.
Beyond the doors was a long hallway, and on the other side was the exit. The only way out was a reinforced door, a metal barricade that featured a small window that let in a little natural moon light. The door didn't appear locked, but the real problem was what lay between them and it.
The entire hallway was crawling with a fiend that Claire hadn't seen in years. They still haunted her dreams whenever her thoughts drifted back to the events of Racoon City, and had dearly hoped that she had seen the last of them.
It was a group of lickers. They numbered in the dozen and looked every bit as horrifying as Claire remembered. For the moment, they were doing nothing but prowl the corridor and flexing their disgusting tongues. It was good that they weren't aware of their presence, but no so much when they had no choice but to go through them.
"So, what do we we do now!?" Moira asked, her voice an urgent whisper.
"We have to get passed them." Claire replied. "Our only other option is to keep wandering around until we find another exit. I don't like those chances."
"We can't exactly waltz in there." Moira argued. "What happens if one of us farts? We know that it's more than just the trigger word that can bring them on. I don't fancy being monster chow."
"Your right." Claire told her. "We can't go through like this, the risk is too great. That means that we have to find a way of overcoming the hypnotic suggestions, or maybe even undoing it."
"Great idea, but how exactly are we supposed to do that again?"
Claire looked over to one of the walls. Though damaged and covered in dirt, she could just make out a floor plan of the entire complex. She saw several different cell blocks, along with wards, staff rooms and a few unmarked areas. There was a feeling that she had carried since she woke up in this place. It went beyond the churning in her bowels, and she had done her best to ignore it. It was the fragmented memories of her time here before today, a jumbled mess of events that gave her a migraine just thinking about it.
Seeing the map triggered some of the memories again. She remembered a room here, a sign there. It wasn't much, but as she delved deeper she tried to piece together the locations that led back to the room in which she had been subjected to the hypnotic suggestions in the first place.
"The room with the monitors. I think it's here." Claire said, pointing to an unlabeled part of the map.
"You're sure?" Moira asked her, uncertainly.
"As much as I can be." Claire answered. If she was honest, then she wasn't that confident herself. It all still made her head hurt too much to be a hundred percent positive, but that was a doubt that was best not shared. "Yes, I'm certain."
With Claire guiding as best as her memory allowed, the pair of them navigated their way towards the spot on the map. They had to take several detours to avoid collapsed passages, but thankfully for them, their route was devoid of any more pressing dangers.
When they arrived at the room, they were greeted by one last hurdle in their way. The door was sealed, and beside it was a device which looked at odds with it's surroundings. It was far more modern than anything else here, and it was also the only things they had seen so far that still had power running to it.
"Some sort of voice print scanner?" Claire wondered aloud. She moved near it and spoke clearly into it's microphone. "Umbrella?"
Her attempt at guessing the password was rewarded by another wet blast of methane from between her overworked cheeks. The sound came out bubbly, and brought with it another fresh batch of putrid air. She ignored the growing stain of fart sweat on her jeans and read the error message that was now displayed in the unit.
Voice print not recognized.
Claire repeated the message to herself, trying to puzzle a way passed it. Umbrella had been a wild guess at the password, and instead she had simply stumbled upon another fart trigger, this one apparently tailored just for her. She tried to think of any other passwords that the machine would accept, but then again, it hadn't asked for one.
"It's not a password." Claire said, convinced of her conclusion. "It's tuned to match the wavelength of certain voices. Only the voice of authorized personnel can gain access."
"So where does that leave us?" Moira asked. "Completely screwed?"
"Unless you've got any bright ideas." Claire replied.
As a matter of fact, Moira did. It was a bizarre idea, but there was some sort of twisted logic to it. There was no doubt that it would be embarrassing to even attempt it, but she was far too deep into the pit of shame to care too much about that now.
"Let me give it a try."
She moved over to the voice scanner and pressed her butt up against it. Without another moment of hesitation, she proceeded to rip an ungodly amount of ass into it's poor microphone.
pppppppppppppppHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Moira maintained her fart as best as she could. She was keeping her eyes on the display the entire time, watching as her flatulence affected the wavelength. The stink coming out of her was so great that Claire was forced to turn away and pinch her nose to avoid smelling any of it, though a smell that powerful wasn't warded off so easily. Moira started to shake as her tank ran dry, but just as the last fumes squeaked out of her butt, the wavelength turned green and the door slid open.
"I can honestly say that I never expected that to work." Claire commented, her disbelief clear upon her face. "That was some good thinking, Moira."
"It's hard to be proud of solving something with my farts, but I guess it worked out." Moira answered. She had expended a huge amount of gas in that attempt, but already she could feel her belly bloating up with more.
They had no choice but to pass through the cloud of Moira's farts to get into the room. It coated them both in it's clinging stink, but they were far more busy taking in the sights to notice.
There was little doubt that this was the room where they had been taken before. A series of monitors lined the walls, each showing nothing but static at the moment. The lone exception was the center console, on which a video of strange shapes and images was playing on a loop. Directly in front of it was a chair. It had leather straps built into it's arms, and Claire remembered distinctly the feeling as they had dug into her wrists.
"I guess this is it." She said.
The two women stared blankly at everything before them. It was all dredging up some memories that were best left forgotten, and it didn't offer up any indication of how they were supposed to undo the effects.
"Do you want to go first?" Claire suggested. "It might be easier if I monitor you to start with. I've never had any direct experience with this sort of thing, but I have a few ideas."
"Just don't get any funny ideas." Moira warned her. She somewhat reluctantly lowered herself into the seat, becoming uncomfortably aware of the swamp of fart infused sweat that had formed in her underwear. Looking towards the active screen, she let herself lose focus and absorb only the swirling image it displayed.
"Alright, I'm going to run through a few keywords." Claire told her. "If something happens, don't try to fight it. Just listen to the sound of my voice and follow my instructions. OK?"
Moira nodded, already losing awareness of what was going on around her. She was totally mesmerized by the swirl that was burrowing into her consciousness.
"Shotgun."
As Claire spoke, both of their asses let out wet blrrppts. Moira only dimly registered her own bodily function, but it was enough to know that something was different. She heard something else as Claire said the trigger word, another command given to her that she hadn't noticed before.
Moira was completely at her friend's mercy as Claire continued through her list of estimated keywords. Most invoked no reaction at all, while others caused Moira to fart, or sometimes both of them. After every fart that dribbled out of Moira's ass, she caught more and more of the other voice. It was telling her to let go of her inhibitions, to loosen control of her bowels and anus.
While their tests continued, Moira was left continuously farting for almost an hour. Her puckered asshole was starting to get raw with the constant gas flowing out of it, but they persevered through the discomfort. As Claire instructed, she willed herself to disobey the voice. Her head began pounding whenever she refused the urge to fart, though she was determined to endure the trial.
"Shotgun." Claire said again.
There was nothing. Moira's butt hole remained shut as she told the voice inside her head to go fuck itself. It retreated from her mind, and Moira suddenly found herself free of it's influence.
Claire insisted they try a few more words to make sure. After Moira had heard them all without breaking wind, it was time for them to swap places and repeat the process.
It was strange to be in control of another person's farts, much less someone like Claire Redfield. Moira had to restrain herself from messing with her, though the cacophony of gas blowing from the redhead's other end was testing her resolve.
Moira spoke, and Claire farted. It was a cause and effect that went on for nearly as long as Moira's own ordeal had. Claire seemed to have far more trigger phrases, or at least they were more easily guessed. Over the course of the next 45 minutes, Claire had farted so much that her asshole was raw from the stresses of overuse.
When Claire had finally broken the hold on her, she took one deep breath of relief. She regretted it almost immediately, with the overwhelming stink almost causing her to vomit. She thanked Moira, and together they left the room behind and made their way back to the entrance lobby.
They made good time, with nothing waylaying them as they traced their steps.
Back at the exit, Claire gave Moira one last look before prying open the door and leading the way into the Licker infested hallway. The fiends barely reacted to the sound of them entering, and they were set on keeping it that way. Claire pressed herself up against one of the walls and invited Moira to do the same. Keeping their breaths shallow, the two of them slinked passed the threat without making even the smallest amount of noise.
The way out drew closer. Moira was the closer of the two and reached out for the handle. As she did so, she heard a terrible rumbling sound from behind her that chilled her to the bone.
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT!!!!!
Claire had farted. The resigned look on her face said it all, and her airy blast immediately riled up the gang of deadly beasts behind them. Abandoning subtlety, the two women dashed for the door and emerged into the early light of dawn. Claire quickly slammed the door shut behind her, while Moira tipped over some wreckage to weigh against it. The Lickers crashed against the metal door, but Claire was confident that it would hold.
As the freed women looked around, the orange glow of the sun nearly blinded them. They could see that their ordeal wasn't quite over yet. Passed the rocky terrain, ocean spread out in every direction. They would have to secure a boat or find someway to call for help, but for now they were content to be out in the open.
Claire drank in the sunrise, feeling a little ashamed that she had almost been the cause of their deaths. There had been no subliminal suggestion for her to pass gas, she simply couldn't hold it in any longer. She felt awful that she had put Moira in danger like that, and she had intended to apologize when something tackled her. She was lifted off her feet and laid flat on her back, landing on a grassy patch besides the entrance way. She thought she was under attack, but then she was treated to a faceful of Moira's ass for the second time today.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!
Moira's pants were subjected to an awful mix on incredibly noxious gasses. They filtered through the stained fabric of her pants before smothering Claire's face in it's rotten and clingy stench.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me, Claire. You couldn't hold it in for 10 more seconds?" Moira yelled. She was angry, but below it all she was just glad to be alive.
"I'm sorry!" Claire said, her voice muffled beneath Moira's stinking ass. "I couldn't help it. I just had to fart."
Moira let the remorseful woman up from under her ass, even offering a hand to help her to her feet. It was actually impressive how much of her butt's smell that Claire had absorbed.
"It's alright. So did I."
Claire couldn't stop herself from laughing a little, overwhelmed by relief that they had both survived the night. As they set off in search of a way off the island, her thoughts turned to more serious matters.
When they made it back to Terra Save, they would both be taking in for debriefing. They still had no idea why they had been abducted in the first place, and that was only the first of many questions that she needed answered.
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On the other side of the world, a shady figure was communicating the results of their most recent test across a private network.
..> Subjects Burton and Redfield were able to resist the conditioning. However, the fact that we were able to implant these behaviors into such strong willed individuals is a tremendous success.
..< You are to be commended. These results are more impressive than anything we had anticipated.
..> Are we clear to proceed with the next phase?
..< You have our approval. Bring in the next subjects.