Cole jolted awake.

He recognized the bedroom almost at once. White walls. Dimmed lights. Grey curtains too thin to keep out the bright rays of the afternoon sun.

He tried to sit up, then froze once he felt the fluffy handcuffs dig into his wrists. He looked back and found himself chained to the bedposts. He widened his eyes, surveying the room.

The bed on which he lay was large, the sheets silk and purple in color. A slim nightstand of oak stood by the edge, stuffed with a mountain of empty Pepsi cans behind a single framed photo depicting a voluptuous brunette hugging a willowy blonde in front of a canyon.

His sister, her blonde hair tied in a bun, was smiling in the picture. His mother, her brown hair cascading freely all the way down to the small of her back, was smirking. He remembered that day like it was yesterday; he had been the one who snapped the picture.

He kept sweeping the room. Several pairs of high heels stood in a neat row in the corner. A large plant towered behind them, its mint-green leaves so thick they didn't look real. Across the room was a black wardrobe. Its doors were open, revealing countless colorful dresses and a variety of shirts and jeans. By its side stood a drying rack, laden with beige jodhpurs and an elegant black jacket adorned with silver buttons on its front. Beneath the rack, placed on a wrinkled newspaper, stood a pair of riding boots spattered in dirt and mud.

He looked to the bathroom. The door was shut. He looked to the door leading into the hallway. That had been left slightly open, and bright light was pouring through the gap. For a moment, he contemplated calling out, then thought better of it. He tested his handcuffs, one at a time, and swore under his breath when he discovered that they were locked.

The sound of footsteps stemming from the hallway caught his attention. Someone was ascending the staircase. Cole flinched, only now grasping the fact that - with the exception of his underwear, a pair of black boxers that almost reached his knees - he was naked.

"I went to bed," he mumbled to himself. "I had a headache and I went to sleep it off-"

The door slid open with a high-pitched creak and a voluptuous brunette appeared in the doorway, clasping a glass of wine in her left hand and a bottle in her right. It was...

"Mom?" He narrowed his eyes. "Mom, what the hell? What is this? What are you-"

She shushed him, ambling into the room with a sway to her hips. She wore a pair of white pajama pants embellished with circles of blue and a grey pajama top on whose front was sewn the head of an adorable unicorn with a white coat and a pink horn. A lock of brown hair had fallen on her face, obscuring her eye, and she blew it out of the way before she went to close the door, missing the handle twice. The back of her pajama top was grey with the exception of four pink letters: Anna. It had been a birthday present from her daughter.

Anna turned around to face him, stared at him for a moment, hiccuped, and started in his direction. She was by the foot of the bed in five unsteady strides, and Cole noted that the wine bottle had been emptied of half its contents. Placing the bottle on the floor, she took a seat by his feet, flattening her rump across the mattress. And hiccuped again.

"Mom," began Cole, after a while. "W- What is this? W- Why am I in your room?"

"I work forty hours a week," she replied, slurring her words. She fixated her eyes on the window where the thin grey curtains were fluttering gently and swirled her wine.

"For eight hours a day, five days a week, I sit down at my computer to fix and clean sentences so horrible they appear to have been written by some fifth grader. And do you know why?"

Cole felt his heart drop into the depths of his belly. His hands started to tremble.

"Because you, my twenty-year-old son, does not have a job. Because your sister, my eighteen-year-old daughter, comes home and cries after college because she cannot afford to get her license. I slave away, day after day, so I can give both of you tremendous amounts of money. Which is fine, I suppose. After all, I am your mother."

"U- Unlock my handcuffs, mom. Y- You're drunk. Y- You don't know what you're-"

"Oh, I wasn't drunk when I slipped you the pills. What? Oh, don't look at me like that. They were only sleeping pills, sweetie; I take them all the time. It's not as if I drugged you."

The scent of her perfume was beginning to fill the room. It was a feminine fragrance, soft and sweet and full with a touch of what could only be described as chemicals.

"I forgot my tea downstairs... I ran back down to get it... And you drugged it?!"

"I was planning to put them in your dinner but apparently I had forgotten that you don't eat beans. You know, the beans I bought and cooked to put food on the table for you."

She patted her tummy. "Oh, well. I guess I should be glad I got to eat both plates."

Cole swallowed. "Is this a joke? Did you and Sarah... Saaaraaah! Come out!"

"Your sister," said Anna, sipping her wine, "is out. And she won't be back for some time. She has a college paper, you see, and decided to spend the evening at the library. At least that is what she told me. She apparently thinks I forgot how it was like to be eighteen-years-old and lie to my parents so that I could go drinking with my friends on late Thursday nights."

"You're lying," he said, rattling the fluffy handcuffs. "This is a joke. And it's not funny."

She downed the rest of the glass, hiccuped, leaned for the bottle, and again filled her glass to the brim. Despite the looseness of her pajama top, her ample bust still filled out the grey shirt, and as she turned toward him, he glimpsed the outline of her perky nipples.

"Let's play a game," she said, after a while. Standing up, she sashayed over to the nightstand, drank another mouthful of wine, balanced the glass on the mountain of Pepsi cans, and opened a drawer. Out came a handheld mirror, attached to the back of a pink hairbrush. She sat back down and held the mirror in front of his face. "What do you see?"

He squinted at her. "I'm not playing this game. Get these handcuffs off me-"

Her eyes flashed menacingly. "Tell me what you see."

He huffed and stared at the glass. And saw brown hair and blue eyes. A small chin and a prominent jawline which clenched in a way that filled him with confidence whenever he ground his teeth. Thin eyebrows, angled slightly downward, and a faint scar that ran from the tip of his ear all the way to his buttony nose. He saw himself. And didn't understand why.

"Tell me what you see. I will not ask you again."

"I see myself. What the hell is this, mom?"

"You're staring at a loser."

He gawked at her. Anna sniffed, wiped her nose, and reached for her pocket. He knew what he was going to see before she pulled it out. She held up a black smartphone. His phone.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Then Cole jolted forward, desperately trying to grab it, forgetting all about the handcuffs. He swore, unable to budge, and began to kick his feet at the phone instead. Anna yelped, stood, and backed away from the bed.

"Oh, you won't believe what I found when I went through your texts," she said, typing briefly on the screen. "I was beginning to wonder where all your money was going. Despite your generous allowance, you're always broke. You can't help your sister with her license, can't help me with the bills. In fact, when is the last time you spent money on either of us?"

"It's my money," he sneered, squirming in his bindings, "and that's my phone! Give it!"

She snorted. "You're in no position to demand anything, sweetie. Now let's see... Your password was surprisingly easy to guess by the way. I wonder what that sweet classmate of yours would think if she knew what you were up to? Think girls find that attractive?"

She was smirking, and suddenly she resembled his sister in so many ways. The rigid posture, so easily maintained as if the weight of her ass held back her shoulders. Plump lips painted a bright pink and split in a slight sneer. Thick eyebrows drawn in a sharp arch and the self-tanner brown cream applied a tad too generously. In that moment, his mother was the spitting image of her daughter. Well, except for considerably wider hips.

"Here we go," she continued, concentrating on the screen. "Oh, my... This is quite the Twitter profile... Goddess Brat... What a peculiar name... And what's this? She's twenty-years-old too, that's perfect for you. Is this your girlfriend, Cole?"

He said nothing, staring daggers at her. His face was warm and he had no doubt it was flushing with color. Anna giggled, sipped her wine, and kept scrolling.

"Twenty-year-old goddess bitch from England," she snorted. "But that's not where you live, Cole. Is this a long-distance relationship then? She must like you very much-

"Oh, wait. Oh, my. It seems she wants you to... Get fucked on her gas... And serve and submit... And she's only willing to talk to you if you send her a hundred dollars.

"Care to explain this to your mother, Cole? What does it mean to get fucked on gas?"

He shut his eyes and gave a long-drawn-out shaky sigh. His face was becoming almost unbearably hot, his heart was pounding frantically, and his throat felt clogged.

"There's more," she continued, utterly without shame. "She wants to spit on you... Wants you to pay for her ass... Loves manipulating weak men... Hates beta boys...

"What is a beta boy? I've never heard this term before. Oooh, it seems she's wondering if there is anyone out there willing to buy her huge farts. Well, Cole? Are you?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, unable to hold her gaze. "I'm sorry, mom. Please-"

"Five hundred dollars," she interjected, and the playful tone in her voice disappeared in the blink of an eye, "every month, for the past three years, and you've been giving it to her?"

Sinking against the bed frame, he kept quiet, unable to think of anything to say.

"Your little sister," she snarled, "can't afford her license, and you spend your money on a woman you will never meet so that she will ignore you and humiliate you?

"How much are you paying her, Cole? What's that? Speak up. And don't you dare lie."

"Five hundred," he replied, a touch louder. "Look, I am sorry; I will never do it again-"

"In total? No? How often? Look at me, sweetie. How often do you pay her?"

"Five hundred," he said with effort, after a while. "Five hundred a month."

The silence that fell lasted for an excruciatingly long time. Then, without a word, Anna downed her wine and went to fill her glass back up. She was visibly swaying now.

"This is my fault," she whispered, emptying another glass. "I meant to raise a man. Instead, I have raised a pathetic excuse for a boy whose only hobby is to pay mean girls.

"Did your sister not bully you enough? Is that why you won't help take care of your family? Should I have been harder on you? Perhaps you wish I had laughed at you that time Peter pulled your shorts down on the beach and flashed everyone that little shrimp of yours?"

The moment her eyes sought him, he immediately averted his gaze, blushing furiously.

"God knows I wanted to. Oh, trust me: you didn't get that little thing from your father."

"M- Mom! You're drunk! This is nuts! Let me go! I'm not doing this anymore!"

Anna sighed, popping a finger between her lips the way she always did when she was deep in thought. Then lit up suddenly and left her glass on the nightstand. She hurried over toward the window, her fat ass jiggling with her every step, and slammed it shut.

"I think I have a solution," she said, spinning on her heel, smiling brightly. "I understand that you have needs, sweetie, but you don't need to pay all that money to have them fulfilled. Oh, no, no, no, no, that's not at all necessary. I'd be glad to help you out for free."

He stared at her with wide eyes, shrinking his neck into his shoulders. He knew she was joking, knew she wouldn't go through with whatever her mind had conjured up, but he also knew there was no point in saying another word. His mother was, like his sister, prone to excite herself without the help of others, and once she had gotten started, there was nothing else to do but wait it out and hope that her mood would pass quickly.

"Right." Anna flattened the wrinkles on her pajama top, darted over to the nightstand, sipped on her wine, and turned to face him. "Oh, my. Is that a blush I see? Oh, do you no longer want to get fucked on gas? Nonsense! I'll make certain you never feel the need to pay for something like this ever again. Stop scowling, sweetie, and move over."

She scrambled onto the foot of the bed, sinking into the mattress. Collecting her hair over a shoulder, she produced a band from her pocket and deftly made a ponytail. Then, turning on all fours, she began to advance, smirking all the while. Cole was stunned.

She came to a stop halfway up his frame, one knee on either side of him, staring him right in the eye with a look he had never seen on her face before. It was almost sultry.

"Twenty-years-old," she mumbled, slurring her words. "No job, no plans for the future, and no girlfriend in sight. A skinny little boy with a shrimp dick who sits in his room all day."

She clicked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and began to turn. Cole, utterly dumbstruck and rooted to the mattress could only stare at her, his lips taking the shape of a circle.

"A loser," she kept mumbling, seemingly to herself, throwing a leg over his chest and flaunting her backside. "My son is a loser... Or... What did she call you? A beta boy?"

"M- Mom? W- What are you doing? M- Maybe you should stop and think for a sec-"

The look she sent him shut him up immediately. He fell silent, pressing the back of his head against the bed frame in an attempt to escape the approaching ass that kept sliding closer and closer toward his face. Anna was smiling devilishly, an evil gleam in her eye.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to get fucked on my gas? Oh, but I had so many beans, sweetie, and I am not sure if I can hold it in any longer. Are you ready?"

"Mom! You can't do this! Look, I am sorry for what I did, but this is nuts-"

A sudden hot blast of air cut him off, accompanied by a bassy rumble. It took Cole a moment to understand what had happened. Anna threw back her head and let a moan slip from her lips. Then, as she glanced at him over a shoulder and flashed a wicked grin, he smelled it.

She had farted in his face, and the proof was all around for him to sniff. The stench was faint, at least at first, and seemed to slowly grow in potency. Two buttocks draped in a grey pajama embellished with blue circles wobbled in front of his face, and then his mother burst out laughing, laughing so hard she shook, while a horrified Cole tugged on his handcuffs.

"No! Stop laughing! This isn't funny anymore! Let me loose! Mom, stop laugh-"

She ripped another fart, a squeaky one which lasted for several seconds, and he flinched even though he couldn't feel it. Blushing horribly, he fell silent and held his breath.

The lack of any audible reaction seemed to prompt Anna to stop laughing.

Struggling to choke her giggling, she bit her lip, glanced at him, and shook her rear. "Did you like that? Am I better than Goddess Brat and her huge farts? No? Well, let me try again!"

"No! Mom! Stop! Please! I won't do it anymore! I won't! I promise!"

Taking a deep breath, Anna visibly squeezed with all her might. Nothing happened. Sucking in another, she tried again. Nothing happened. He stared at her bottom, beyond baffled.

"Oh, they won't come out," she groaned, pushing a third time. "Well, this won't do! How are we supposed to get you fucked on my gas if I can't fart? Or perhaps it is smelly back there already? Oh, I see. You're holding your breath. Oh, no, no, no. Take a sniff."

Cole, bright red from his neck to the roots of his hair, shook his head. Anna popped a finger between her lips and pondered for a moment. And slapped him between the legs.

He gasped and jerked. "Ooof! You crazy bitc-"

The third fart struck him in the face like a brick, perfectly timed, a quick blast that bathed his face in hot gas. Before he had a chance to react, his mother backed up, pinning his face sideways between her ample bottom and the bed frame.

"Sniff it," she demanded, applying pressure. "Sniff that fart, sweetie! Isn't that what you want? For a girl to fart in your face as if you're no better than her toilet? Go on! Sniff!"

Her butt was soft and warm and supple. And very heavy, squishing his head against the makeshift wall so hard it felt like his jawline was about to crack. Cole whimpered, feeling his cock stir beneath his underwear. And, after a moment of hesitation, sniffed the air.

The stench was repulsive. Hot and sticky and as thick as honey. The smell resembled nothing short of poop, and he whimpered, starting to squirm behind the plump butt.

Anna threw one look at him and howled with laughter. He didn't take another breath, didn't dare, and the fat ass released him, suddenly and without warning. He groaned.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Can't handle my farts? But you were so excited when Goddess Brat posted a fart video; you always clicked on that little heart in the corner. Why aren't you so excited for my farts? Hm? Where's my five hundred dollars? Don't you think I deserve any? Oh, but I do, sweetie. In fact, I think I will withhold your allowance this month."

"Y- You're disgusting," he sneered, twitching in fear when she feigned another pounce with her ass, "a- and this is ridiculous. I've already apologized; I won't pay her anymore!"

"Oh, I can feel another coming," she groaned, oblivious to his words. "Oh, I think this one is much bigger. All those beans probably weren't good for me. And all that wine."

Cole shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and whined loudly. "Mom, listen to me!"

"But you like it when women ignore you," she retorted, her voice as soft as the mewling of a kitten. "Have you changed your mind already? Oh, I thought you'd last longer than that."

The bed creaked and he let one eye slide open. Anna was no longer on the bed, having stood up, heading for the wine. She drank a glass, looked his way, and smiled sheepishly.

"When I was in college," she began, after a while, staggering toward the bed, "I once let loose an absolutely thunderous fart in the locker room after soccer practice. I was very embarrassed, of course; there were four other girls in the locker room and they all heard it. But do you know what happened? Do you think they laughed at me, sweetie? Oh, no.

"I was popular, had excellent grades, and all the pretty boys threw themselves at my feet just to get a chance to hold the door for me. I was the queen in my sorority - a very exclusive sorority, of course - and on the soccer field, there was no one better. I even beat the boys.

"No one dared to laugh that day. They all pretended they hadn't heard it, terrified that I'd drop them from my life. A life they all wanted. A life I wanted for you and your sister.

"I was wrong. Your sister seems to be doing well for herself. But you? You have no father in your life, that's probably the problem. You don't respect me, do you? Oh, you've become so accustomed to girls denying you that you cannot respect a woman who slaves for you.

"No, keep your mouth shut; mommy is talking. I've often wondered what to do about your behavior. I guess the answer was right in front of me all along."

She huffed, strutted over to the bed, knelt on his phone, and again climbed onto the mattress. He groaned in protest when she crawled over him, her breasts bobbing inches from his face. Then she reached for a pillow, wedged it beneath his back, grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him to lie down. He parted his lips to object but was silenced by a sassy finger. Without a word, whistling casually, Anna turned around and mounted his chest.

Her ass felt soft and warm and heavy, and when she sat down on his chest, the weight of her rump pushed him deeper and deeper into the mattress and made it hard to breathe.

"Oh, did you think we were done, sweetie? Oh, no, no, no. I told you I had more for you. And besides, you barely sniffed the ones I already gave you. Don't you want to smell my farts?"

He wheezed, unable to shift beneath her butt. She cast a glance at him over her shoulder, wiping a lock of hair behind her ear. Smirking, she bit her lip, wiggling back and forth.

"What's wrong? Aren't you man enough to handle my ass? Is it too big for you?"

"Please," he hissed, squirming underneath her. "I- I will respect you! Please!"

"Caaan't heeeaaar yooou," she sang, but, nonetheless, sat up on her knees. Cole twitched and heaved for his breath. And froze, seeing her thumbs slip under the hem of her trousers.

"W- What are you doing? M- Mom? W- Why are you pulling off your pants?"

She ignored him, humming some playful tune, wriggling out of her pajama trousers. The moment they were off her hips, they slid down on their own, ending up in a bundle of soft fabric around her knees. Cole gasped. He was staring at her bare ass.

It was plump, excessively so, and held a striking resemblance to a pair of footballs squeezed together. The skin was smooth and flawless and as pale as milk. There were stretch marks on the back of her thighs: faint, red, horizontal stripes that stood in stark contrast to the white skin, and the width of her hips was almost breathtaking when viewed from this angle. When paired with the small of her back, her bottom looked more or less like a fat pear.

He lay perfectly still, too stunned to move. His heart was racing, and beneath his boxers, his cock gave another twitch. He ground his teeth, pleading that she hadn't noticed.

"Ah," she sighed, freezing for a moment to pass another hiccup. "That's much better. I've always hated wearing pants, don't you agree? They always chafe at my thighs."

"W- We can still go back," he stammered. "Y- You're drunk, mom. I- I won't tell anyone, I promise. We- We'll pretend this never happened. It'll- It'll go back to the way it was-"

"Oh, shut up," groaned Anna, hoisting herself up before letting herself drop. She landed on his face, burying him beneath her doughy buttocks, and Cole gave a pained grunt. She had seated herself on the side of his face, pressing his cheek into the pillow, and the way her butt strained his neck was excruciatingly painful. He howled, beginning to struggle, and the pressure eased as Anna sat back up with a huff, annoyance clear in her voice.

"Shut up! Oh, I am so tired of you. You want to get fucked on gas but you can't even handle my ass on your face. What was that? You're sorry? Tell it to my ass, bitch boy."

She leaned forward, arched her back, spread her buttocks, and flaunted the brown eye between the pale cheeks. Cole whimpered, seeing the butthole twitch. It was puffy, almost fat, and full of wrinkles, and its color was a mixture of caramel and chocolate. There wasn't a single hair down there, and Cole - who had only ever seen another asshole in questionable videos on the internet - was slightly surprised at how tight the entrance seemed to be.

"M- Mom, this has gone way too far. W- We shouldn't be doing this. Your ass is-"

The fart caught him off-guard, a strip of air that shot out of her booty so quietly he wouldn't have noticed it if it hadn't been for the warmth on his chin. He flinched, swore, and wrinkled the sheets as he tried to kick his way further up to the bed in an attempt to escape. He was unable to back up much, caught between the bare ass and the bed frame.

"Mom, what the fuck! Stop! You can't just fart in my face! You've lost your mind!"

"Be silent, sweetie. Oof, that was a small one. I wonder if I have another. Oh, I do. I can feel it coming. All right, prepare yourself. And this time, I want to hear you sniff back there."

Cole groaned, pressing the back of his head into the bed frame so hard it hurt. There was no point; Anna looked at him, briefly judged the distance, and edged backward until her ass was but an inch away from his nose. Sticking out her tongue, she moaned and squeezed.

The putrid air washed over his face in three short blasts, and he twitched for each one. They were quick and loud and bassy, and suddenly the air around his face felt much warmer. His mother giggled, shook her hips, and stared at him expectantly. "Smell them, sweetie."

He whined, shook his head, and refused to breathe. Her eyes flashed menacingly.

"You're going to sniff them," she growled, "and you're going to tell me how they smell, or we will simply stay here until you do. I have wine. And more farts."

He looked at her, his face no doubt the color of a purple rose, and pleaded with his eyes. But there was no mercy to be found in hers, and after a while, he slowly gave in. The first sniff was quick, the second a little longer, and the third brought tears to his eyes. The stench was overwhelming, somehow both sweet and sour at the same time, and very shitty. The stink stuck to his nostrils, drove him to cough, and made him whimper like a little girl.

Anna grinned, spreading her buttocks with a hand, and cocked an eyebrow. He knew what she wanted to hear but the words stuck to his tongue and refused to come out.

Much unlike her next fart, which exploded from her ass and bathed his face in a stream of hot air. It was swift and loud and completely unapologetic and resembled the sound of a revving engine. She began to laugh, and Cole sobbed and inhaled the stinky amora, a spicy mix of poop and beans that stung his nose and was almost painful to breathe in.

"Ooof," grunted Anna, collapsing to her elbows. "Oh, that was so hot. Felt like my asshole was on fire. Can you smell that, sweetie? Oh, that must be rank. Go on. Breathe it in."

He kept sniffing, forcing the stench up his nostrils. His eyes were wet with tears and his head was beginning to feel a little strange. Her ass, a pair of plump globes, started to descend.

"That's better, sweetie. Is it smelly back there? Do you like the smell of my farts?"

Cole groaned, clearing the air of the foul stench. The shitty smell left his throat dry and his mind blank, and beneath his black boxers, blood was flowing into his prick. It grew against the fabric, swelling slowly. He tried to fight it, tried to halt the process, but it was too late.

Anna gasped theatrically. "Cole! Your little shrimp is showing! The smell of my farts is turning you on! Oh, my... That's... That's the most..."

She slapped a hand to her lips, giggling. "That's the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!"

"I'm sorry," sobbed Cole. "It's- It's not my fault! I- I can't help it!"

"It's all right, sweetie," she snickered, trapping the tip of his nose between the two doughy mounds that were her buttcheeks. "Oh, mommy is really gassy. Here comes another!"

She braced herself and squeezed but nothing came out. Sinking her teeth into the flesh of her lip, she tried again, spreading her buttocks apart and arching her back.

It was long, not too hot, and came out in a squeak. The gas poured into his nose and assaulted his senses, filling his nostrils to the brim with a mild stench of poop. Before her butthole stopped singing, he was already breathing it in, snorting up the putrid scent.

"Oh, I should've been paid for this," mumbled Anna, strangely distant. "I would've been perfect back then... They would've worshipped me... And now here I am, working away my life while my son pays some brat... She isn't even that attractive, you know?"

Cole grunted in response, his boner bending uncomfortably against the tight fabric of his underwear. She had sat down a little lower and now her buttocks were flattened slightly against his cheeks. The smell of her fart seemed to linger in the crack of her ass, and the moist warmth down there left beads of sweat on his forehead. Her butt was so soft, like dough, and the weight that threatened to come down on his face was terrifying.

"Oh, my belly is rumbling," she grunted, her voice a touch deeper than before. "Wine really doesn't agree with beans. I think I have another... Oh, my, this one is huge!"

Widening his eyes, Cole whimpered a muffled protest. It was no use; he felt her asshole pucker against the tip of his nose, and after a split second of horrifying anticipation, her puffy shitter ripped a bubbly fart so ridiculously loud it drowned out his displeased squeals.

The stench struck him so hard he ceased squirming, gushing into his nose. It dilated his nostrils, oozed into the back of his throat, and drove him into a terrible cough. The taste of it settled on his tongue, a concoction of beans and eggs and shit and sour alcohol. He stuck out his tongue, gagged repeatedly, and blushed fiercely as Anna once again guffawed.

"Oh my god! That was baaad! Oh, you should see your face. It looks like a horse took a dump in your mouth. What was that, sweetie? You can't take anymore? Oh, but this is what you wanted, isn't it? No? Maybe you should be more careful about what you wish for."

"Please," he whispered, beaten into submission by the rancid fart. "I'm begging you-"

"Shut it, loser. Mommy isn't done with you yet. She has another present for you. Here it cooomeees... Oh, wait. False alarm. Teehee. Maybe if I try it like this..."

She grabbed the bed frame, leaned all her weight on her left knee, split her buttocks, steadied herself, and squeezed audibly. Her right leg had left the mattress, floating a few inches above his bed, and her ass was further away now. He huffed, staring at the puckering butthole some three inches to the left. And winced when it spat.

She ripped another four, the sound strangely similar to a hissing snake. Despite how soft they were, they still took him by surprise, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he was forced to take them on his face. When she was through, stifling a moan, the air around his face was once more corrupted by the stench of poop. Flicking his gaze to the winking asshole, Cole sniveled and started to sniff. His cock was throbbing, pinned to his thigh by the firm fabric of his boxers, and as he smelled the shitty air, he became more and more convinced that her farts were muddling his mind and blowing away his thoughts like clouds in a gale.

"Ooof," said Anna, fanning the air in front of her nose dramatically. "It's really starting to stink in here, isn't it? It must be really bad down there. Sweetie? Are you still alive?"

He moaned in reply. Anna snorted, pried open her buttocks, and sat back down. For a moment, her bulbous asscheeks stole his entire vision. Then she giggled, bit her lip, and dropped her butt on his face. Her aim was better this time: she landed square on his face and let her buttocks go. They enveloped his face in what felt like a firm hug, flattened across his forehead, squished his jawline, and bent his nose sideways. Cole lay still - defeated by the fat ass - until his lungs started to run dry of air and began to sting. She seemed oblivious to his kicking feet, and for a split second, he was worried she'd forgotten about him.

She sat up, suddenly and without warning, and he didn't realize his mistake before he had already parted his lips to gasp for air. Her butt shot the fart into his mouth like a bullet, a short one that sounded like a zipper, and inflated his cheeks to the point of bursting.

She gasped. "Oh, no! Did I fart in your mouth? Ooops! I'm so sorry, sweetie!"

Cole gagged and squeezed his eyes shut. The taste was almost unbearable.

"Have you had enough? You have? Oh, don't be shy. You've paid for this with three month's worth of allowances so I won't skimp on what you've bought. One more?"

"Please," he pleaded, his voice on the verge of cracking. "I won't pay her another dollar. I will respect you, I promise. I'll... I'll help Sarah get her license. I'm begging you!"

Her face screwed up in a grimace. "Oh, my. Are they that bad? Are you absolutely sure you don't want another? I don't mind; I can squeeze out a few more. I'd hate for you to feel the need to send another five-hundred dollars to that brat across the pond."

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I can't take another, please don't make me sniff another-"

"All right, all right," said Anna, rolling her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. I don't understand what you are whining about. You were the one who wanted to get fucked on gas!"

"I take it back! I take it back! I'll be good! I promise! I can't handle your farts!"

She popped a finger between her lips. "Will you stop paying that greedy slut?"

"Yes! Yes! I'll never pay her again! I swear! I'll only pay you! And Sarah! Please!"

She nodded slowly. "And you'll show me respect? From now on?"

"I promise! I'll start taking out the trash! I'll start cooking dinner! I'll start making your bed if you want! I'll do whatever you want and whatever you say! Please don't fart!"

"Well, well. I've raised you better in an hour than I have for the past twenty years."

She broke off, smacking her lips. "I wonder what happens if I do this for two hours."

He widened his eyes, seeing her buttocks spread. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"