By: Olifantengrot
The Office horror
My name is Richard. I work in an office as an IT specialist, doing work far below my expertise. People only call me when their computer isn't working, and when I get there, I usually find it was never even plugged in. My job is incredibly simple, and I hardly do anything because whenever I try to explain my expertise, people find it too complicated and don't appreciate me.
Today, the office received big news: our boss Brenda is pregnant. Everyone had mixed feelings about this, considering Brenda isn't exactly what most people would consider mother material. She has always had a motherly appearance, given her size and proportions, but what made people uneasy was her difficulty in getting along with others. She was cold, harsh, and genuinely mean at moments. Ever the optimist, I hoped having a child would change Brenda for the better.
"Congratulations, Brenda! I'm really happy for you. Have you thought of any names yet?" I asked Brenda.
"No, you idiot! I only found out today. Ugh. Why are you all staring at my belly? Being pregnant isn't an open invitation to lust over me. Pervs, yuck," Brenda snapped, her voice echoing through the office. The room fell silent as everyone quickly diverted their eyes, clearly not wanting to be the next target of her ire.
"Sorry, Brenda, I... I was just curious... about..." I stuttered, my face flushing with embarrassment. My coworkers shifted uncomfortably, clearly feeling the sting of her words.
"What, you were curious if my breasts already started to grow, you disgusting weirdo?" Brenda continued, her glare fixed on me as I stood in stunned silence.
"No, I meant the baby name. I was just curious if you had thought of a name yet," I mumbled, feeling like every word I said only made things worse.
"Yeah, sure you did," Brenda said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Let's just get to work. You all just had to ruin my reveal. You're all the worst," she added, turning sharply on her heel and letting her hair whip against my face as she walked away. The office buzzed with low murmurs, everyone eager to avoid Brenda's wrath and get back to their tasks.
Brenda is seated directly behind me on her exercise ball. We all have to sit on exercise balls as it is company policy imposed on us by Brenda, who oversees the furniture in our office. Brenda is significantly larger than me, and with the limited space we have, she often uses my back to rest hers. I never respond, acting as if it isn't happening, though inside I'm filled with dread. I don't even know if Brenda realizes she's doing it, or if she just doesn't care. Sometimes, she even scratches her back against mine, the friction making me wince. My other colleagues laugh quietly at my predicament, but their fear of Brenda keeps them silent. I'm just an object to her, something to be used and dismissed without a second thought, and the power imbalance only makes it worse.
Today, like every other day, Brenda revealed, or more accurately subjected us to, another one of her issues—her gas problem. Brenda is not ashamed of her farts, often announcing loudly, "Oh God, I got to fart," before letting loose.
BBBBBrrruuugghhhhgguuupphhuuuu!
As she releases, she closes her eyes, bites her lips, and moans very loudly, savoring the moment. Afterwards, she lets out a relaxed sigh, often paired with a line like, "God, that was good," or "Man, that one burned." It's clear that she finds immense relief and even pleasure in these moments, completely unbothered by the discomfort she causes everyone else.
Being directly behind Brenda puts me in the worst possible position, enveloped by her gas. My eyes tear up, and my face contorts in disgust as I nearly puke from the stench. Holding my breath is futile, as the odor lingers forever, and Brenda forbids anyone from opening the windows. My coworkers never laugh at my predicament; they too suffer from Brenda’s smell, though less directly.
Today, possibly out of revenge, Brenda decides to assert her farting supremacy by standing up and slamming her hand flat on her desk. I watch in horror as her massive ass engulfs both sides of my head, and I feel the warm, wet fabric of her clothes press against the back of my head and neck. I couldn't believe what was about to happen as a hot wave of foul, sulfuric gas blasts the back of my head with its deadly force.
BBBBBRRrrhhhuughghfBBBhhhhuuppphhhhuuuu!
My coworkers stare in disbelief as Brenda rolls her weight over the back of my head, moaning audibly in apparent relief as she unleashes the biggest damn fart our office has ever been subjected to.
Afterwards, she sits back down, waving her hand through the air dismissively. "Man, luckily no one important had to smell that one. That was foul."
Meanwhile, my coworkers exchange uncomfortable glances and discreetly cover their noses, trying to disperse the lingering stench without drawing Brenda's attention.
My vision gets blurry as I feel like fainting. I have shortness of breath as I feel like every breath burns my lungs. "What did I do to deserve this?" I think to myself as I nearly lose consciousness.
Every evening, I leave the office with a heavy heart, knowing that tomorrow will bring another day of enduring Brenda's stink and relentless bullying. The thought of another day under her thumb, subjected to her gas, and doing mind-numbing work fills me with dread. I despise the constant discomfort and the degrading treatment she inflicts on me.
Brenda's overbearing presence looms over me, her daily torment a constant reminder of how undervalued I am. Each time she leans into me, uses me as her backrest, or lets out another foul fart, I feel my spirit break a little more. Her bullying is almost torturous, and it makes me hate my job with every fiber of my being.
I long for a chance to break free from this cycle, to find a place where my expertise is valued, and my contributions are recognized. Until then, I remain Richard, the IT specialist in an unfulfilling job, overshadowed by Brenda, waiting for the day when my true potential will be acknowledged.
Isolation and agony
(20 weeks later)
The last few weeks have been pure torture. While all my coworkers have been approved to work from home, I'm inexplicably the only one left in the office. For the past two weeks, it’s just been me and Brenda. Brenda has decided against taking any maternity leave, insisting on working tirelessly during and after her pregnancy. Her appearance has drastically changed since becoming pregnant. She looks like she’s ready to deliver at any moment, even though she’s only halfway through her pregnancy. She used to wear a tight business suit, but now she only wears underwear and a loose shirt in the office. Nobody said a word about it. The day all my coworkers started working from home, she just showed up dressed like that. To think I once found her attractive. Years of her relentless torment have completely changed that perception.
I dare not make eye contact with Brenda anymore; her temper flares easily, and she's quick to bully or insult me, or worse, assign me gross tasks like cleaning the toilet after she's used it. The office has become unbearable. There's no one to talk to, and Brenda’s farts have somehow worsened over the weeks. I find myself staring at a blank screen, pretending to work, while Brenda leans back against me and occasionally releases a noxious blast. We sit in silence, engulfed by her foul stench.
Today is a bit different, though. As I stare at my screen, hoping for an IT problem to come up, I notice sobbing behind me. I turn around and see Brenda hunched over her desk, tears streaming down her face.
“Hey Brenda, what’s wrong?” I ask cautiously, feeling a pang of sympathy despite our strained relationship.
“That bastard left me,” Brenda says between sniffles.
“Who left you?” I inquire, genuinely concerned.
“Bob, you dumbass, my fiancé. He said I was too much to handle,” Brenda replies bitterly.
I'm at a loss for words. Brenda never shows any emotion other than anger towards me. Unsure of how to comfort her, I slowly turn back to my screen and pass the next few hours in silence. There are no farts to break the tension, just Brenda's quiet sobs echoing in the office. By the time it's time to go home, Brenda has composed herself, though her serious demeanor betrays the traces of tears.
As I'm about to leave, Brenda mutters, “Thanks for asking.”
I pause for a moment, looking at Brenda with a mix of sympathy and discomfort, before nodding and heading out the door.
Unthinkable humiliation
(The next day)
The next day is just as weird. Brenda shows up again, wearing nothing but her loose shirt and underwear, but this time with a painful look on her face. I don’t dare ask anything and just say, “Hello,” before taking my seat at my desk. Brenda says nothing, as usual, not even a hello, and takes her seat. She’s very restless, constantly repositioning herself and pushing against my back. After an hour or so, she lets out a loud, “Ugh, my stomach!”
I sit silently, hoping the minutes pass faster. “It hurts so bad!” Brenda exclaims. I pretend not to hear her. “Maybe if I sit like this?” She presses her ass against my back while I pretend not to notice.
“No, that’s not it. I need something else,” Brenda says. “Hey Richard, you’re my best friend, you know that right?”
I have no idea how to respond to that. The idea of being friends, let alone best friends with Brenda, sounds insane to me. “I feel like I can always talk to you. Even though you’re a bit of a weirdo, you always know your place, and I appreciate that. Could you come with me for a second?” Brenda says.
I fear Brenda’s wrath, so I follow her, watching her ass sway side to side, with nothing but her underwear covering it and revealing a massive butt cleavage. We’re heading towards the bathroom. Brenda opens the door and then grabs my shoulders.
“Look, I know you like me, okay? It’s pretty obvious with you constantly sitting behind me and inhaling deeply when I fart. You’re just a gross weirdo like that. And everyone knows,” Brenda says.
With every fiber of my being, I want to say that I’m forced to sit behind her and that I hate her farts because they cause me so much pain, but Brenda continues.
“Look, it’s time to be honest with you. I suspected for a while that my fiancé would leave me. I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy. I wanted him to keep pleasing me the way he used to, but when I started showing, he suspected something. I wanted to force him to stay and chain him up, but legally, I couldn't. He was into something just like you—he loved it when girls farted on his face. He never outright said it, but when I shoved my fat, wet, sweaty, and hairy asshole in his mouth, he didn’t complain much, so I knew he was into it. But when I told him about the pregnancy, he got all pissed off, saying shit like, ‘We never even fucked. You just use me as a toilet.’ I thought that was unfair because he should love me no matter who I fuck on the side. Anyway, he split because he didn’t want to be my fart-sniffer anymore, saying my asshole was too much for him. Fuck him, I think, but it left me with a problem. My pregnancy has made it really difficult to push anything out of my ass without a mouth on the other end. Now I know you love my farts, so I decided to deny your work-from-home requests, ensuring you get to empty my bowels for me by sucking on my anus. Win-win.”
I stand in absolute shock at what Brenda has just said to me. She thinks I like her farts? And she wants me to help her get her farts out by sucking them out of her asshole? This can’t be happening.
“I really don’t want to, Brenda. I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Are you going to leave a pregnant woman alone to deal with her little gas problem when everyone has already abandoned her?” Brenda says with fury in her eyes as she nearly crushes my shoulders.
Without thinking it through, I say, “Of course not, it’s just that farts are not really...” I get cut off as Brenda lifts me up by the shoulders and pushes me onto the toilet seat.
“Thank God you’re finally on board. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Here’s my asshole,” she says as she pulls down her underwear, revealing the horror of her sweaty, hairy asshole. Her hairy, sweaty, sticky asshole is plopped onto my mouth. The taste, by god, the taste. For as long as I have worked here, I have had to deal with Brenda’s asshole in one way or another. Sometimes she would push her unwashed underwear in my face as a joke or place it over my head. Once, she ordered me to unclog the toilet after she used it, and of course, there was the incident 20 weeks ago where she placed her asshole on the back of my head and let loose. Not to mention the regular hundreds of farts she lets loose in the office, but none compare to the smell and taste I am currently experiencing. The foul hole makes its presence known with a stale, bitter, and rotten taste with a strong sulfur smell. Brenda moves it around a little, her ass cheeks rubbing my cheeks like sandpaper due to the dense hair between her ass cheeks.
The toilet stall is tiny and cramped. I can’t move anywhere and am pinned on the toilet seat. Brenda places her hands on both sides of the stall. She is in heaven as she looks back at me, smiling ear to ear. The glimpses I see of her, when my head gets pushed up a little by her asshole, show her happier than I’ve ever seen. When Brenda looks at me, she sees wild eyes staring at her in absolute fear, like she is the grim reaper ready to claim a soul. Brenda feels powerful, her stomach growling as the rest of her body has determined that my mouth is a suitable toilet.
“Come on, little toilet boy! Start to suck! I haven’t got all day!” Brenda says, pushing her asshole further into my mouth. Unable to breathe, I open my mouth gasping for air. Inadvertently, by doing that, my lips force open Brenda’s anus, giving her body the go-ahead to let loose a fart like never before.
BBBrruuuuuugghhhhhghghgguuubbbbuuuphhhhhrrrrr!
Brenda bites her lip, bending over, rolling her eyes, laughing, and smiling. “God, yes. That one burned. Haaha. Your mouth feels even better than my fiancé’s. Haha. Oh… wait a second… I have a special delivery for you,” Brenda says with a playful tone. “While I’ve got you down there, let’s really see if you’re cut out to be my toilet,” Brenda says. Her stomach growls loudly as I shake my head violently. I think to myself, “NONONNONONONONONONONNO.”
“Yes, struggle more, toilet bitch. It only makes it easier for… Oh God… here it comes… AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Brenda screams triumphantly, filling my mouth with the largest meal of my life. Forced to suckle on her anus, a thick log of rot and death slowly slides over my tongue. It’s so massive there’s nowhere for my tongue to hide as I taste the foul excrement making its way to my throat. The burning pain as it stretches my throat beyond its limits is unbearable. It lands in my stomach like a lead weight, expanding me in ways I never thought possible. Wet, guttural gulps signal to Brenda that I’m still alive. Tiny farts squeeze through the shit, but their smell is nothing compared to the stench of the atomic bomb of shits currently in my mouth. My eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of my skull, my ears are ringing, and my brain feels like it’s being replaced with shit. Am I dying? Is this how I go out, in the worst possible way, with the worst person in the worst place imaginable?
All Brenda does is scream, “YES, YES, YES, OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO… YES. MORE. MORE SHIT. YOU FUCKING TOILET SLUT! EAT MY SHIT, BITCH!” as she rides my face, shitting down it, rubbing her pussy and climaxing. After what feels like an eternity, all I'm left with are foul farts puffing up in my mouth.
Bbbrrrrpphhhuu!
"God, I need to pee now," Brenda declares. As Brenda turns, my mouth is torn from Brenda's anus as the vacuum between my mouth and Brenda’s anus is broken. I nearly fall forward as her anus releases its grip on me, only to be replaced by her giant pussy on my mouth. Brenda’s large pregnant belly presses against my forehead. Gripping my head with both hands, she forces my face into her bushy abyss, filling my mouth with piss. Compared to the shit and farts, this is slightly less disgusting, yet tears stream down my face as I swallow mouthfuls of bitter yellow waste. As Brenda finishes her piss, she holds my head against her pussy for a while, looking down at my big crying eyes as they stare at her, hoping for mercy.
Without a word, Brenda slowly moves my head up and down, rubbing my face all over her enormous pussy. Louder moans escape Brenda as my face is rubbed faster and deeper against her immense pussy. Brenda pulls her head backward as she starts to scream again, “YES, YES, YES, USE THAT USELESS HEAD OF YOURS TO MAKE ME CUM, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF… SSSSHHHHHIIIIIIITTTTTTT!” My face, now completely slimy, gets another liquid pushed into it as Brenda climaxes into my mouth. I scream into her pussy, but this satisfies Brenda only further “AAAAAAAAAHHHHH”.
“God, I should have done this years ago,” Brenda sighs as she finally gets off my face and turns around. Opening the door, she bites her lip, lifts one leg, and lets out a massive fart, saying, “You did well today. See you tomorrow, my fucking toilet bitch.”
Ppphhhhuubbbrrruuuuupphhuu!
With that, she closes the door, leaving me in the stench of all her liquids and gases.
It takes a few moments before I gather my strength and leave the cramped toilet stall. Looking in the mirror, I see my red face with bloodshot eyes. As I drive home, everywhere I look, I see anuses, knowing that Brenda's torment would now take on a new form. I don't know if I can survive.
The depths of domination
(The next day)
Sleeping had been a damn nightmare, constantly haunted by Brenda's torment. I wanted to quit, didn't want to go to work anymore, but I needed this job; there were no other offers for IT specialists, and bills were piling up. The choice felt like a gamble between dying at Brenda's hands or starving on the streets. Pulling into the office parking lot, I spotted her car already there, and my heart sank like a stone. Still with the taste of ass in my mouth, I let out a heavy sigh, forced myself out of the car, and trudged into the building, dread weighing me down every step of the way.
As I open the office door and step inside, there's no sign of Brenda. I take a few more steps when the door slams shut behind me. I whirl around in shock but have no time to react before a wet, hairy armpit smashes into my face, pinning me against the wall. My body is trapped, and I struggle to breathe, completely engulfed by the sweaty mess.
Brenda has forced me to smell her armpit countless times before. Once, right before she was about to give a presentation to a packed room, she made me inhale deeply from under her armpits as some kind of sick preparation. It was unbearable and humiliating, but this time was a whole new level of hell. Desperately gasping for air, all I could do was open my mouth wider over Brenda's disgusting, stinking armpit, taking in the rancid flesh and hair. This was her brutal way of asserting dominance, and it was working, turning every second into a suffocating nightmare.
"Thank God you're here. My shower's busted, or rather, I didn't like the water, so you're gonna lick me clean. It's all you're good for. Start with my pits; really get in there and lick up the sweat. I've been sweating loads since I shit in your mouth yesterday, so it might stink a bit, but that's on you," Brenda says, easing the pressure a bit, letting me breathe through her hairy armpit while I'm still pinned against the wall.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Bon appétit,” Brenda says. I close my eyes as I reluctantly open my mouth a bit and lick Brenda's armpit with the tip of my tongue.
"Seriously, step it up. I want your tongue all over my armpit. Or should we start with toilet time, because I feel a shit coming on," dread grips me at the thought of being used as a toilet again. I relax my tongue and slide it across a wider area of her armpit, filling my mouth with salty, stinky sweat and hair. After one armpit, the next is slammed into my face. The smell and taste are just as bad as the last one, only worse because I haven't cleaned this one yet. As I slide my tongue over her hairy armpit, I take in all the filth and learn the structural patterns of Brenda’s body: every hair and every mole. If her body odor wasn't smelly enough, Brenda lets out a massive, bubbly fart, ensuring me that there will be no clean air today and also letting me know that my mouth does not need to be on the other end for farts to escape. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. I was always going to end up here no matter what I said or did.
BBBrrrhhhhuuupphhhuuupphhhhh!
"God, that would have been awesome to have let loose in your mouth… what a shame… Hurry up, sweat rag," Brenda says with genuine disappointment.
Afterwards, Brenda grabs my hair and directs me under her breasts. "Being pregnant makes my folds so deep and hard to clean. Come on, toilet boy, get your head in these folds and clean it up!" Brenda demands. Her huge breasts rest on her giant pregnant belly; each breast is twice the size of my head and could crush me with its weight. Her oval nipples are as big as my face. My head is pushed between her right breast and pregnant belly, maneuvering sideways to delve deeper into the folds. Slimy, gulping sounds can be heard as my head is pressed into the crevices under her breast. Brenda's heavy breast rests on my head, crushing me with its weight, but I must continue. My ear is against Brenda’s belly, hearing the gurgles of her stomach—my future meal. I feel kicks from the baby, mocking my position. Licking upwards under Brenda's breast is challenging; moving my head strains my neck as her breast's weight presses down.
"Hahaha, that tickles. Now move on to the next one. I haven't got all day. Plus, you wouldn't want to miss toilet time now, would you?" Brenda says, enjoying her power over me.
My head is moved under her left breast. Again, I am assaulted by the taste of sweat and salt. Occasionally, I lick up something more solid, maybe a breadcrumb or a peanut? I try not to dwell on it; the taste has definitely lost its previous appeal, now just sweaty grime. As I move on to licking the cleavage, Brenda never breaks eye contact, constantly smiling and savoring her dominance.
"Do you know what would happen if I pressed my breasts together right now? Your head would explode. Do you want me to do that, little toilet bitch?" Brenda says with a sinister tone. For a moment, I stop licking and stammer, "Please don't kill me, Brenda. I'll do whatever you want."
"DID I FUCKING TELL YOU TO STOP LICKING?" Brenda screams. In a panic, I resume licking to the top of her cleavage. Brenda sighs briefly and then, in a seductive voice, says, "You know where you're heading next. Lick my fat pussy, bitch!"
Brenda grabs my head again, sliding it over her sweat and saliva-covered breasts and across her sweaty pregnant belly, guiding me over her rough, hairy bush and into her pussy. Brenda's fat pregnant belly rests on my forehead again as my face is ground against her enormous pussy. The smell is overwhelming—sweaty, pungent, and overpowering. I struggle to breathe, trapped beneath her weight and dominance.
"Please, Brenda," I manage to whimper, my voice barely audible beneath her labored breaths. "I can’t… I can’t do this…"
"YES, YOU CAN, TOILET BITCH," Brenda groans. "YOU… ARE MADE FOR THIS… MADE… TO BE… MY… FUCKING SLAVE.. I WANT YOUR FUCKING FACE IN MY FUCKING…. PUSSY… AAAAHHHHHHHH..."
With that, Brenda pushes me deep into her hairy, slimy pussy, releasing her cum right into my mouth. "SWALLOW, TOILET BOY!" Brenda orders as her sweat stings my eyes. Knowing my head will never be released from this hellish hole unless I swallow, I obey. "Refreshing, isn't it? Now clean up! I don't want you stinking up the place. That's my job," Brenda says, laughing maniacally.
As I look in the bathroom mirror, I see my face, painted with the horrors I've endured and am yet to endure. I clean my face, trying to restore some semblance of normalcy. Reluctantly, I walk back into the office and notice my lunchbox is open.
With an evil smile and completely naked, Brenda turns to me, saying, "Oh boy, it's lunchtime and your lunch is missing. What happened? You have to guess where it went."
Reluctantly and with fear in my voice, I ask, "Did you eat my lunch?"
"Oh, wrong. Guess again," Brenda taunts.
"Did you throw it away?" I ask, sadness creeping into my voice.
"Wrong again. Man, you are dumb," Brenda mocks.
"Did you hide it somewhere?" I inquire cautiously.
"In a way, I guess you're right. Man, you have a really negative view of me, don't you? I hid your lunch somewhere, and you have to search for it in the office," Brenda declares.
I sigh, still tasting sweat and cum in my mouth. Not having any appetite anymore, I say, "I'm not hungry anyway."
Brenda becomes furious. "You're no fun! I went through so much effort to hide your lunch. You're going to search for it! NOW!"
Panicked, I start frantically searching for my lunch. After 30 minutes of humiliation and searching, Brenda gives me a horrific hint, "I'll give you a hint. Your lunch is nice and warm."
Fear rushes through my body as I look at Brenda's lower body. Trembling, I ask, "Are… are you sitting on my lunch?"
"Close. It's way warmer where your lunch is at," Brenda says seductively, licking her lips.
"No…" I whisper in disbelief.
"Yes…" Brenda says with an evil smile.
"Are my sandwiches… up your… butthole?" I say, fear evident in my voice.
"Yes, you got it right. I bet you're hungry right now. Guess you've got to eat your sandwiches out of my asshole. I must warn you, there might be a little special sauce and seasoning over your sandwiches, if you know what I mean," Brenda says as she gets on her knees and leans over the exercise ball.
"Looks like toilet time and lunchtime are paired up today. Hahaha. Now eat your fucking lunch, toilet bitch," she commands.
I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my face as I slowly crawl towards Brenda's asshole. Brenda’s power is so strong over me that I crawl on autopilot. Even though Brenda isn't holding my head, forcing me down to her anus, I feel like I have no choice. Brenda uses her hands to spread her asscheeks, revealing a little bit of my sandwich in her asshole—once white bread, now brown. My face slowly descends, my eyes wide open at the horror of what I'm about to do. Every instinct screams to stop, but here I am, defying all my natural instincts as my lips are about to make contact with Brenda’s sweaty, hairy, stinky anus.
As soon as my lips are fully planted on Brenda's anus, she lets go of her asscheeks. The impact nearly makes my head explode. Loud, wet sucking sounds can be heard as a vacuum is created between my head and Brenda’s asshole, ensuring that only Brenda decides when I will leave these asscheeks. Realizing I am stuck, Brenda stands up and sits down on her exercise ball, knowing I will be under her asshole for the foreseeable future. The foul, rotten taste combined with the sulfur smell I hadn't forgotten from yesterday enters my mouth and nose.
To get my lunch, I had to suckle on Brenda’s anus like a baby suckling on a teat. But that alone wouldn't work. I had to expand Brenda’s asshole somehow. My sandwiches were really stuck in there, so while suckling on the anus, I stuck my tongue inside the foul hole and swirled it in circles, expanding it little by little. Brenda was loving it. Though I couldn't hear it, and she would most definitely never say this to me directly, she actually said some nice things, "Oh my God, I have never had such a good mouth on my anus. God… just wait until you've eaten your sandwich; I have a whole meal ready to fill you up real good." By loudly sucking and licking, I was able to expand Brenda’s asshole enough to take a few bites of my sandwich. But they were so soaked in shit that it was all I tasted. The consistency was completely different; I was basically sucking a thick bread and shit paste from Brenda’s asshole to feed myself, followed by wet, loud gulps and then sliding my tongue back into the asshole.
After what must have been hours, there was one piece of bread left that just wouldn't come out. I had to suck harder. I sucked and sucked and sucked until suddenly, after sucking really hard—
PPPPrhrhhhhhrrrhhhhuuppppbbbbuuuuuuggghhhhhhhuuupppp!
The dam broke into my mouth. Brenda went cross-eyed, biting her lower lip, squeezing one breast with one hand while rubbing her clit with the other as all her shit rushed into my mouth, down my throat, and into my stomach. “YES, TAKE ALL MY FUCKING SHIT. EAT IT ALL!” Brenda commands. I thought I was going to die. My eyes rolled back, my jaw extended to inhuman levels, my throat stretched, my stomach expanded as the filth storm rushed into my mouth. No matter what I tried, nothing broke the vacuum seal against her anus. I was fixed in place, eating whatever Brenda’s ass had to offer, gulping it down.
Brenda kept me under her ass for the next few hours. I had to do some serious unpaid overtime on Brenda’s asshole. “I wish I could keep you here forever…” Brenda says. However, I couldn't hear this as all I could hear were gut gurgles preparing my next meal or the next blast of farts. When Brenda finally decided to get up, I could feel her hand gripping my hair. It required a lot of strength to break the vacuum seal between my mouth and her asshole, as her asshole didn't want to let me go. With a loud “PLOP,” my mouth was released.
"Hey Richard, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to pull an all-nighter. I really have a few deadlines I need to meet tonight, so I can't be going to the bathroom to shit and pee. So sorry, but you're going back into my ass crack. Don't worry, though. I ate a lot of beans and fatty pizzas, so you're going to be treated to an absolute feast this evening. Anyway, see you tomorrow," Brenda says with a seductive voice.
I scream in desperation at the top of my lungs, "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH…" but it gets cut off as my open mouth makes contact with Brenda’s anus again. Brenda's stomach growls grow louder and louder until finally—
BBBBBRrrrhhhhuupppphhhbbbuurrruuuhhpphhhfffffggggguuuppp!
A massive bean fart nearly rips my face off. Brenda’s ass and asshole, making wet squishing noises, place me back against her asshole, reforming the seal as tears stream down my face.
Toilet time and sweaty sex
(30 weeks into the pregnancy)
For weeks now, I've been forced to endure the same degrading routines. What started as a non-consensual agreement to suck farts from Brenda’s asshole has now become a non-consensual agreement to lick Brenda’s body clean, serve as her living dildo, act as her personal urine and shit toilet, and, on top of all that, continue to be her fart sucker.
Every day roughly follows the same tormenting pattern. My day begins with licking Brenda clean and ends with the worst task of all: “Toilet time.” Those words make me tremble in fear, as I never know if I’ll survive the next onslaught of shit. My life is in Brenda's hands—or more accurately, her asscheeks. The vacuum seal between my mouth and her asshole ensures I cannot escape; if Brenda wanted, I could be trapped there forever.
Often, I have to do overtime under her ass, only being released late at night, only for the cycle to begin again the next day. Weekends are my only respite, where I get to eat normal food, but even that is ruined as everything reminds me of her ass and shit. Brenda constantly sends me pictures of her ass, asshole, and full toilet bowl to remind me of what I’ll have to deal with on Monday.
As Monday morning starts, I drag myself out of bed like a lifeless zombie, preparing for another torturous day.
Today is a little different, however. Arriving at the office, I was expecting a sweaty armpit to clean, but instead, there's a massage bench in the office. Brenda is lying on top of it naked, of course, her two massive asscheeks like giant puddings greeting me as I enter.
“Toilet boy, you’re finally here. I want a massage. I took the stairs today, so I'm all sweaty and lubed up, so you won’t need to use any massage oils. Start with my back,” Brenda said as if what she just said was the most normal thing in the world. If I'm honest, it was probably the least weird and gross thing Brenda had asked me to do since I became her toilet.
“I have never given a massage before; I don't know how to do it,” I stammered. Brenda sighed.
“Okay, guess it’s toilet time then,” Brenda sarcastically said. Fear rushed through my body as I desperately said, “No, please, I will give you a massage. I would love to do that.”
Brenda looked at me with an evil smile on her face. “I don’t get it. You just said you did not know how to give a massage, and so I suggest starting with toilet time today, and suddenly you want to give me a massage. I don’t get it,” Brenda said.
“I just realized that I always wanted to learn how to give a massage,” I said, hoping to avoid toilet time just for a little while.
“Well, we could start with toilet time and then do the massage…” Brenda suggested, clearly toying with me. She had the power and knew how much I hated eating her shit.
“Please, I want to give you a massage now. Please,” I pleaded. Brenda stayed silent for a long time, keeping me in suspense.
“Okay, you can start with my massage. In the meantime, I’ll make more poop for you to eat later,” Brenda said as she placed her head down on the massage bench.
I started moving my hands over her shoulders. The smell of her sweaty body made me nauseous. The only washing she had been getting was from me licking her body, which isn’t really washing, now is it? Plus, when I lick her body, I get redirected to either her pussy or ass really quickly as she gets turned on or needs to fart, which pauses the cleaning session. The smell of her body has gotten so bad over the weeks, I can smell her as soon as I drive up to the parking lot of the building.
“Lower, toilet boy!” Brenda commanded. I slid my hands over the wet, fatty flesh from her shoulders to her back. I prayed silently not to hear her next demand, but I still got the command I had been dreading.
“Come on, toilet bitch! Fucking lower!” Brenda barked. I rubbed my hands on her lower back. There wasn't much flesh left before I had to rub my hands over her ass.
"Now really massage my ass, get in there deep, Toilet Boy!" Brenda says seductively. I knew the command was coming as soon as I started the massage, but that didn’t mean I wasn't dreading it. Like kneading giant pieces of dough, I worked Brenda's cellulite-ridden asscheeks, moving my hands over the sweat-soaked mountains.
“Come on! Massage harder!” Brenda demanded. I tried to rub Brenda's asscheeks harder, moving my hands all over the flesh, making sure my head was never directly over her ass crack for fear of one of Brenda's deadly farts blasting me in the face, and making sure my hands never accidentally slid inside, as my arm would most definitely be sucked into her greedy, hungry asshole. My arms tired from constantly moving over the sweaty globes.
Brenda sighed, then barked, “FUCKING HARDER!” I moved my hands deep into the muscles, not realizing my head was now leaning over Brenda's asshole. As if her asshole knew my face was nearby, it released a massive rotten egg-like blast straight into my face for nearly 15 seconds. My mouth flapped in the blast as the wind blew through my hair, my eyes forced to stay open due to the pressure behind the gas, and my head was forced backward.
BBBBbbuuupphhhhhhggrrrrrruuruuupphhhhhhhhpppppbbbbbb!
After the blast, Brenda grunted loudly, saying, “Ughhhhuuuuggg… I hope you got a taste of that one.” I grew dizzy and felt like losing consciousness. Resting my upper body by putting my hand down on Brenda’s ass was a huge mistake; my hands slipped to the sides of the sweaty mountains, and my face made a loud wet splat right on Brenda’s ass crack.
Brenda then said, “Looks like someone wants some more. Here you go, Fartsniffer. UUUGGHHHHUUU!”
PPPhhhhppppphhuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrbbbhhhppppphhhhuuuuu!
A fart so powerful, so strong, expelled from Brenda’s asshole that my head floated above Brenda’s ass for a full thirty seconds. My mouth, throat, nose, eyes, and lungs burned at the violent smell of Brenda’s foul gas. Afterward, my face made another loud wet splat on Brenda’s ass crack. Sweat splashed due to the impact. Wet and slimy sounds could be heard as I slowly sank into the ass crack. Brenda’s asshole was pulling my face home, wanting to kiss my lips again, creating the vacuum seal once more. As I slightly opened my eyes, I saw Brenda's asshole puckering up, ready to give me a big wet kiss on the lips as it prepared to feed me again.
However, to my surprise, a hand reached for my head, grabbing me by my hair and pulling me up instead of down. As I was pulled up, I could hear stomach growls, almost sad to see me go. With wet and slimy sounds, my head was pulled out of Brenda’s ass crack, my entire head now wet.
“I know you want to do toilet time and eat some quality shit, but there’s someone you need to meet,” Brenda said. I noticed in the corner of the office a giant man standing there with a very angry look on his face. The man was incredibly muscular and completely naked. His dick was out and the size and length of my entire leg.
“This is Jason. He is my new fiancé. I met him this weekend and he proposed to me. Now we are going to fuck in this office the entire day, and you get to fucking watch and listen,” Brenda said while making suggestive signs to Jason and biting her lips afterward.
“So you're my wife’s toilet? Better not be fucking my wife or I will fucking kill you,” Jason said in a threatening voice.
“No, I haven't… I… I… I just work here,” I stammered, Brenda's ass juices all over my face and dripping from my chin.
“Now, now. If anyone is going to kill Richard, it will be my ass. HAHAHAHA. Let's fuck, Jason,” Brenda said, getting off the massage table and starting to violently make out with Jason. Jason lifted up the surreal, obese pregnant woman like it was nothing, resting her weight on his dick.
Jason and Brenda had been fucking for about an hour before I finally booted up my computer and responded to some emails. I hadn't been able to do my work since I had become a toilet. However, working became really hard as Brenda was moaning very loudly. What also didn't help was the fact that both of Brenda's massive breasts were positioned on either side of my head, hanging over my shoulders and resting on my chest, while her huge pregnant belly was pressing against my back, and Brenda’s drool was dripping onto my head and sliding down my face.
I struggled to focus on the screen; the constant jarring moans and the rhythmic slapping of flesh made it nearly impossible to concentrate. Jason was using the exercise ball, putting it to good use as it bounced his dick deep into Brenda’s pussy. He was pounding into her with such ferocity that my entire desk shook, making my attempts at answering emails futile. After what felt like an eternity, Jason finally climaxed with a guttural roar. Brenda collapsed onto my back and over the desk, her massive body pinning me down. I could barely breathe, her weight pressing me over the desk, my face resting on the keyboard with my head deep between her cleavage. Jason, still panting, stepped back, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Not bad for a morning fuck," he muttered, giving Brenda a giant smack on her ass.
Brenda looked back, her entire body still resting on mine, jiggling from the ass slap. "That was a good round one, but we still have a long day ahead of us."
Jason sneered at me. "You’re lucky my fiancée uses you as a toilet. Otherwise, you’d be out of a job."
My body ached with Brenda laying on top of me, and the stench of sweat and sex was overwhelming. Brenda finally got off my body, allowing me to breathe again.
"Toilet boy, I am going to need you to clean up," Brenda spread her legs, revealing her cum-covered, slimy, sweaty, hairy pussy. With wide eyes and a scared look on my face, I could only say, "What? What do you want?"
"Come on, this dude is a complete idiot," Jason said. "Get your fucking mouth between my legs and clean me up! You’re embarrassing me!" Brenda commanded. Before I descended into the gross hole, I took one scared gulp, my mouth still full of fart remnants. My face was inches away from the slimy mess when I suddenly realized how much I did not want to do this. At that moment, Brenda’s hands pushed me into the hairy slimy flesh, rubbing my head all over the mess.
"FUCK. You take forever. Get on it already," Brenda barked. I had to swallow the thick slimy cum of both Brenda and Jason. Brenda sighed contentedly, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.
"Fucking toilet," she murmured, her voice softer now. "Make sure you get every inch."
Jason chuckled. "Guess he’s not just good for sucking farts, huh?" Jason said, slapping his wet dick over Brenda’s face.
"Ready for round two?" Brenda asked seductively to Jason.
"Fuck yes, babe," Jason said with an excited voice.
"But it’s also toilet time, so we have to be creative," Brenda said after kissing Jason’s dickhead. She pulled my head from her pussy, leaving my eyes half-open, my jaw slack, and my tongue hanging out.
"Heyyy, toilet boy, it’s toilet timeee!" Brenda said playfully. I had no strength left in my face, and all I could do was cry as tears streamed down my cheeks. They placed my body on the massage bench. It was hard to keep my eyes open, but when I did, I saw Brenda’s ass and pussy looming over me. Brenda spread her asscheeks, her asshole puckered, happy to see me again. Slowly, I was enveloped by her hairy asscheeks, with Brenda’s lower back resting on my shoulders and throat. My eyes, usually seeing only darkness during toilet time, now had a front-row view of Brenda’s hairy pussy and Jason’s giant dick sliding into her colossal pussy right before me. Brenda moaned loudly as Jason quickened his pace, slamming his body against the giant, sweaty, pregnant woman. His hands massaged Brenda’s belly and breasts with a strength I could never match. Each time Jason went in deep, his balls slapped me in the face.
Through the loud grunts and moans, Brenda’s stomach growls, signaling my next meal, were almost drowned out, but she did not forget.
"Jason, my love. Massage my belly some more. I want to shit down toilet boy’s mouth while having sex," Brenda said seductively. Jason began massaging Brenda’s belly fully, and I started to feel something creeping into my mouth. A tough, giant log of rot and death entered my mouth. I was so distracted by Jason’s balls constantly hitting my forehead and the slimy liquids sliding over my face that I forgot it was toilet time. With every thrust, Jason’s balls hit my eyes, pushing the shit log another few inches into my mouth.
Jason was now ferociously slamming deep into Brenda. My jaw couldn't accommodate all the shit coming out, but it didn't matter; it was going into my stomach regardless. Brenda’s breasts swung from side to side, nearly resting on the massage bench, her back almost pressing against my entire body. Her face was bright red, her mouth open wide, and her tongue sticking out as she drooled. Her entire body moved up and down, giant ripples coursing through her with every thrust Jason made into her pussy. Jason’s strong hands massaged her giant, slimy, sweaty, stinky pregnant belly as his enormous dick rearranged her insides. Jason’s facial expression never changed; his angry face with wide eyes remained focused on Brenda’s smelly body. Nothing in the world could stop Jason from pounding this obese, pregnant woman, not even the continual slamming of his balls into the face of the scrawny, skinny man beneath her ass, nor the same woman shitting into that man’s mouth.
After hours of pounding, the massive log of shit had worked its way into my throat, expanding it so much that I could no longer breathe and felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Just as I was about to pass out, Jason delivered one final, forceful thrust into Brenda’s wet, hairy pussy, resting his slimy, sweaty balls on my face as he pumped gallons of cum into her. The sensation of being filled triggered Brenda's climax, which put pressure on her gut and forced the turd from her bowels into my mouth. My throat felt like it was going to tear as the giant log shot into my stomach with incredible speed, making me go cross-eyed from the pressure. After a minute or so, Brenda’s asshole finally left my mouth, saddened but satisfied to leave me behind. Juices of all kinds leaked from Brenda as she and Jason walked away hand in hand, speaking seductively to each other. Brenda quickly glanced back and said, "Oh, toilet boy, could you clean up this mess? Jason and I are going to fuck each other some more. Don’t worry, you’ll get to clean me again tomorrow."
Afterward, they left as Jason fondled one of Brenda’s breasts. I blacked out then and there.
The big day
(40 weeks into the pregnancy)
During Brenda’s pregnancy, I have had to serve her in unimaginable ways. Even today, I had to do deep cleaning on her asshole, licking the entire buttcrack and asshole clean, both inside and out. It was an impossible task, because Brenda had a massive case of diarrhea today and kept farting wet farts non-stop in my face. Brenda herself was in heaven, as she loved tormenting me with this impossible task that I had been doing for over five hours now.
However, Brenda sensed a monumental shit approaching—the kind of bowel movement that would challenge me like none before. Playfully and with a sadistic undertone, Brenda said, “I think it’s toilet timeeeeee.” Feeling a dark planet turning under my feet, I removed my tongue from her asshole and said, “Please, not toilet time. Anything but toilet time.” “Oh, shut up. You know you love it,” Brenda said as she grabbed my hair and dragged me to the toilet. While being dragged, I cried and repeatedly said, “Please no… please… please.”
I was slammed onto the toilet yet again inside the cramped stall with nowhere to go. Whether I wanted to or not, I was going to have to do the worst job of all: eating Brenda’s shit. Brenda struggled to plant her asshole on my mouth. Due to the pregnancy, her shits had become bigger and bigger, and so had her body, barely able to squeeze her ass inside the stall. But it would not matter what she had to do; nothing short of a natural disaster could stop Brenda from planting her asshole on my mouth. This cramped stall was absolutely not going to stop her from doing the thing she loved the most.
And so, that familiar stench, that familiar texture, that familiar filth landed comfortably on my mouth, creating an unbreakable vacuum ensuring this meal would be inevitable. “Here we go, toilet slave, your favorite part of the dayyyy. Aaahhhhhh!” Brenda let loose, but there was nothing solid coming out, only liquid shit. The diarrhea was hot and tasted like death, filling my entire head as the pressure was immense. Loud, wet gulps could be heard through the hallways, as if drinking a refreshing beverage on a thirsty day, but there was nothing refreshing about this and no soul would ever be thirsty for this.
Brenda had pumped many liquids and solids into my mouth since I became her toilet, but nothing had ever tasted this foul, nor had this much been forced into my mouth before. Many times I thought that I would die dining on her shit, but this might truly be it for me. Suddenly, the shit stopped. Was this mercy from Brenda? She placed both hands on either side of the stall, spread her legs further apart, bent over even more, and screamed, “HERE IT COMES! THE BIG ONE! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
As Brenda screamed, my head shook violently as diarrhea was pumped into my mouth at an inhuman pace. Shit spewed out of my nose. I cannot be certain, but it felt as if shit also spewed from my eyes. My stomach grew to such a size you might think I was 40 weeks pregnant. Feeling like I was about to die, I screamed into Brenda's asshole, the very thing that's the bane of my existence, my arch enemy: "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH." But it was all in vain.
After an hour, Brenda slowly lifted herself off the bathroom stall, feeling as though she had expelled a curse from her asshole. "Wow, I wish every shit was like that. Don't you agree, Richard? Richard?" Brenda turned to look at me, only to find me covered in shit, as not even the vacuum seal on her asshole could contain this storm. Unfortunately, I was still alive, breathing weakly, coughing up diarrhea from my lungs as I nearly drowned. “Thank God you’re alive. Anyway, could you clean this up and yourself? I want to fuck your face a bit before we call it a day. Come on, toilet boy, get on with it.” Half alive, half dead, I obeyed as commanded. As long as I live, I am destined to serve Brenda and her asshole.
After a while, I got back to Brenda, a lifeless stare on my face as I did. Brenda wasted no time walking up to me, grabbing my hair, and pushing my face in her hairy pussy. I felt the baby kicking on my forehead as if to mock me further. My face was emotionless as my lips moved up and down, above me I heard Brenda moaning away. Faster than usual, my mouth was flooded with an enormous amount of fluids, much more than usual. After swallowing it all, Brenda, still gripping the back of my head, slowly pulled me away from her pussy and said, "I think my water just broke in your mouth."
Rushing to the hospital in my car was an awkward ordeal. Brenda insisted on driving, and I had to be under her asshole. My legs had to be awkwardly curled up as they would interfere with the brake and gas pedals. Even in this seriously rushed situation, Brenda would fart wet, foul sharts into my mouth. I was scared as Brenda was huffing and puffing above me, her smelly, sweaty belly resting on my chest. I felt us swaying side to side and could hear other cars honking at us.
Arriving at the hospital was an even more awkward ordeal. Brenda stopped the car and ran to the hospital, dragging my body behind her with my head vacuum-sealed to her asshole. The doctors said I had to leave, but Brenda had other ideas.
"He's coming with me, he fucking has to," Brenda panted angrily.
"Okay, fine, he can come, but he can’t be on your… rear end like this," the doctor said cautiously.
Brenda grabbed the doctor by the throat and growled, "He stays under my fucking asshole!"
"Ugh… okay… fine… ugh…" the doctor reluctantly agreed after Brenda let go.
While going into labor, I was stuck under Brenda's asshole. Brenda gripped my hand as she pushed, nearly crushing it in the process. With each push, foul shits and farts were forced into me; Brenda was clearly still battling her diarrhea. The doctors tried to ignore my presence, but their jaws dropped multiple times, hearing loud farts exploding into my mouth followed by me audibly gulping down mouthfuls of shit and farts. They didn't realize I had been enduring this nearly every day for weeks.
"I can see the head! One last push!" the doctor exclaimed.
I felt a massive amount of hot liquid rush over my throat and chest as Brenda's baby was born, accompanied by an earth-shattering shart in my mouth..
BBbbruuuupphhhhhrruuhhppppphhhhhuuuuppppppppphhhh!
"It's a girl," the doctor announced.
After the baby was born, I wouldn't be released from Brenda's foul, hairy asshole until Brenda was discharged from the hospital. Finally removing her asshole from my mouth felt like a blessing.
As I gazed at Brenda with her newborn daughter, I almost forgave her for the torment she had put me through. "I will name her Butt Beast. That will be her name," Brenda declared. I looked at the baby, then at Brenda, and then back at the baby. A wave of worry washed over me, knowing Brenda was far from mother material and that 'Butt Beast' would undoubtedly grow up to be a monster.
Back to normality
The past few months have been almost heavenly for me. Everyone has returned to the office, although my coworkers weren't as thrilled, and Brenda actually took a few weeks off. I no longer serve as her toilet, and life is back to normal. Brenda has been back for a few days now. She still releases farts as usual and rubs her back against mine, but this is how things used to be. Everything is back to how it was.
Today, I arrived at the office with a smile as I took my seat, thinking maybe things aren’t so bad after all. Suddenly, Brenda opened the door, and my colleagues all looked away. Brenda then announced, “Everyone, I have news to share. I'm pregnant again, isn’t that wonderful?” The room erupted in applause and congratulations for Brenda, knowing what happened last time. I was the only one not clapping or congratulating Brenda. All I did was stare at her in terror as she smiled maniacally at me and repeatedly nodded while maintaining eye contact. The cycle was starting again.
Her asshole had missed me.