By: DeepDesiresFulfilled
There was once a witch that lived deep in the woods south of a small village. Every so often the village would be set upon by curses and other evil spells. She has poisoned the wells, changed the livestock into random other animals or creatures, and pretty much anything she found to be funny. The village tried hiring adventures to kill the witch but none have ever returned. After a few waves of failed attempts no one wanted to do the job in fear of dying or whatever else she could do to them. The story picks up in a tavern inside that same village from the point of view of a freshly started adventurer.
“Damn it!” angrily shouts Morgan as part of her worn out leather armor unlatches itself. She hears a party of adventurers in the corner of the room start laughing. Morgan glances over at them but decides a four on one fight would be quite foolish. She downs her ale, slamming the cup on the bar and she begins to leave the tavern. The laughing stops as one of them dressed quite flamboyantly leaps up and approaches Morgan. With a smile and bow he says, ”Hello miss, my name is Faleum and I apologize for my group's mockery. I couldn’t help but notice the sorry state of your armor and that sword has seen better days miss!” Morgan looks Faleum up and down and asks, ”What does any of that have to do with you?” With a smile he says, ”Well miss, you seem to be new around here and I think I could set you off in the right direction.” Faleum leads Morgan outside and continues, ”You see my group is far too busy for this small task that I think you could gain quite a lot from!” He pulls a page off the side of the tavern exterior and hands it to Morgan. It reads, “Deep in the south woods is a witch that needs to be eliminated. Two hundred gold reward for her head.” Faleum looks at her after she reads it and says, “I think that reward would work wonders on your armor and even get you a new sword! So what do you say? Think you can handle the old hag?” Morgan squints her eyes at the man trying to uncover any bullshit but he seems to be telling the truth. She then says, “Alright I think I can handle this witch.” Morgan then walks off into the direction of the woods in the cover of night.
The trees are quite dense and look extremely sickly. They bend and contort around each other like hugemongous vines. Morgan follows an old stone path that is mostly reclaimed by the surrounding woods. Out of the corners of her eyes she swears the trunks of the trees shift and turn slightly toward her. After an hour of paranoia filled walking Morgan spots a flicker of firelight through the trees. She gets a little closer passing through the trees and crouches behind a fallen tree. Morgan slowly peaks her head up over the dead log to get a lay of the land. About a hundred or so feet in front of her is a simple cabin with a door sandwiched by two windows. A small fence made of branches surrounds two small gardens underneath the windows. Morgan then shifts her focus to the open window to the right of the door. Just as she begins to look, all of the fire light extinguishes leaving the home bathed in darkness. Morgan quickly drops behind the log and in the hurry she lets go of her sword and it falls to the opposite side. She closes her eyes and falls slowly down the log letting her back slide down it.
She opens her eyes to see a beautiful robed woman wearing a pointed hat and she is in all black. The woman is crouching a foot in front of her with a look of curiosity and says, “Young lady what on earth do you think you are doing? Coming out into my woods for a one on one with a powerful caster?” Morgan, breathing heavily nervously chokes out, ”I am so sorry ma’am, I am new to this sort of thing. I was in a tavern just down the road and a man told me this would be an easy starter quest. He said you were just some ‘old hag’. His words, not mine!” The witch stares hard into Morgan's eyes the entire time and for a few minutes after. The look slowly climbs from studying to rage at the ‘old hag’ comment. Morgan’s leather breastplate falls off completely much to her defeat and the witch’s joy. The witch then sighs and says, “Alright what was the asshole's name?” Morgan slowly says, “ He said his name was Faleum. He was with three others.” The witch stands up and says, “I am not going to hurt you. You were tricked into an unwinnable fight and besides us ladies have to watchout for each other. Now stand up and grab that terrible excuse for a sword and follow me.” The witch then starts walking down the path back toward the tavern and Morgan quickly follows.
When they reach the tavern the witch looks through the a window and asks, “What does the fucker look like?” Morgan stands next to her and says, “He was wearing some goofy clothes with bright colors. He looked like he belonged more so to a circus. I guess that should have been my first clue not to trust him.” The witch smiles and nods, “Yeah probably, I'll be right back. Stand back this could get messy.” She then walks around the building and slams the doors open hard causing them to crumble apart. She then steps inside and all the lights snuff out all at once. Morgan a bit scared ducks down from the window. Many villagers rush out of the tavern screaming and panicking. Furniture can be heard exploding apart and loud impacts of bodies slamming around. Morgan’s fear begins to build, hearing the carnage unfolding just a wall away from her. A loud battle cry rings out to be quickly silenced with a loud sickly snap. Few seconds of further destruction pass by before Morgan hears the window above her shatter. Out flies Faleum, he impacts hard and rolls a few feet before resting motionless.
The tavern falls still aside from a single set of footsteps leaving the tavern. Covered head to toe in blood the witch exits the tavern and approaches Morgan. The closer she gets it slowly reveals that none of the blood seems to be hers. She places a foot on Faleum’s back and says, ”This is him right?” She then recites a quick spell and she is cleaned completely of the blood and viscera. Morgan in equal parts terror and amazement says, “Yeah that's him.” The witch nods and says, “Oh I almost forgot my name is Hanhathar! Also it's a bit messy but the gear of the other three is all yours. Good luck with your adventuring career and don’t die too soon!” With that she recites a spell and throws some dust on the ground disappearing and taking Faleum with her. Morgan takes a moment and walks inside to get her loot.
(Switching over to Hanhathar’s perspective.)
Landing in the center of her cabin she drags him over to the basement and throws him down the hatch. The hatch then slams hard and locks itself up. Hanhathar then sighs and sits back at her desk to read through the book she was studying before being interrupted. She then sits there for the next few hours looking through the book and preparing some of the spells for practice. Hanhathar shuts the book and the cover reads, “Transformation Magic and its Uses”. She looks over at a frog in a jar and recites an incantation and from her fingertips shoots out green swirls that surround the creature. It then morphs into a butterfly and begins fluttering around the jar. She smiles and laughs to herself and releases the morphed creature out the window. Hanhathar then walks to the hatch with an evil grin plastered across her face.
(Switching over to Faleum’s perspective)
Faleum wakes up to a splitting headache and is completely blinded. He goes to speak but he can’t feel his tongue let alone his mouth. Just then he feels a hot rush of air funnel into his nostrils. It smells like a thick meaty shit lathered fart. His ‘body’ tries to move aways from the fart that just assaulted his senses but he doesn’t move even an inch. Against his will he begins to suck the rest of the fart hard straight from the source. Faleum then begins to freak out as he sucks in more of the vile scent. Then another hot burst of ‘air’ is quickly huffed down by his traitorous nose much to his disgust. After the whole fart is sucked down he hears a deep feminine sigh followed by a loud rumbling monstrous fart that his nose huffs down. Twenty minutes of a near constant flow of gas funnels into his eager lodged nose before she finally stands up and walks away.
He is now able to assess his current situation a bit better. Faleum has lost all feeling in his arms and legs. Looking around he can see he is in front of a desk but the surface is above his eye line. There are shelves on the walls far above him with jars, books, and other random trinkets. Faleum then looks as far behind himself as he can to see the backrest of a wooden chair. He tries to speak once more to no avail and he is extremely confused about what is happening to him. It feels like his entire body has been buried in the ground packed tight leaving only his face sticking up and just as immobile. His eyes scan the room frantically trying to find a way out of whatever this is and then the smiling face of the witch comes into view.
(Switching over to Hanhathar’s perspective.)
“Ah I see someone is now awake! How was your nap?” says Hanhathar looking down at him laughing. She then says, ”In case you are wondering, all of your friends are dead and all over that tavern. I got to give it to that big bastard, he almost hit me with his battleaxe!” Hanhathar walks away again while saying, “And that poor girl you sent to kill this ‘old hag’ is now geared up with your buddies shit! She told me all about what you told her and quite frankly you deserve all of what's coming to you!” Hanhathar returns and sets down some flasks filled with some liquid and walks away again. “I bet you are wondering what the hell happened to you? Well putting it rather bluntly, I have turned you and your body into my desk chair.” She says while searching for more ingredients. She then continues talking, ”The only part of your human body remaining is your ears, eyes, and that sniffing nose! As you have probably noticed, your nose is enchanted to sniff up every little bit that my thick ass gives it. So from now and until you break you will be staring at my ass while huffing down all of my gas so I don’t have to!” Hanhathar then starts laughing and says, “The best part is that those honeyed words will never exit your nonexistent mouth ever again. Don’t worry, you’ll learn to love my gassy ass!” She walks over to him and looks into his terrified eyes and drops her ass down hard. She wiggles around for a moment until his nose is right in her crack and she starts brewing up some potions. Hanhathar then just treats him like what he is, a fart absorbing chair. She spends the next couple of hours gassing his huffing nose with reckless abandon. After that she then stands up and pulls the wedgie from her ass and walks over to her bed and gets ready for bed.
(Switching over to her chair’s perspective)
Once she stands up she just pushes you under the desk and walks away. He now realizes that he has no need for oxygen anymore and his nose sniffs only for her benefit. Faleum can just unblinkingly stare at the bottom of her desk while deeply regretting his life choices. He spends the next twelve hours just staring up the whole time while trying to keep himself distracted to mixed results. Eight or so hours into his staring he hears her wake up and begin moving around never once speaking to him. He is quite pissed off about being used as furniture but he has zero control over it and he knows it. He is then pulled out from under the desk for a brief scenery change before being buried back in her ass. Faleum finds himself slightly glad for her ass because at least he isn’t looking at the bottom of that desk anymore. She wiggles again to put his nose back into its home and then she lets out a ten second flow of farts. His nose somehow matches her pace, huffing all of it down without exception much to his displeasure. It smells horrendous and sounds wet, without skipping a beat she disrobes and plops her bare ass on his nose. He was quite correct in his wetness assessment but luckily it was just sweat. Faleum then spends most of the day under her bare ass huffing all it gives him. He only rarely is released from her rear while she is retrieving something just to be returned shortly after. Once she is finished for the day he is shoved back under the desk, to begin staring at the bottom once more.
After a week of this cycle of sniffing for hours and staring blankly he is beginning to lose it. This is only made far worse when she leaves the cabin with him under her desk for a week and a half. Faleum is starting to forget about once being a human and only about being her chair. He spends hours, maybe even days screaming in his head just to give himself something to do. The occasional sound of a bird or the wind whipping through the trees keeps him barely sane. If he could close his eyes he could draw an exact picture of the bottom of her desk without missing a single detail. Just as his mind begins to slip into full blown madness he hears the door open and close. He can’t help but to beg in his head for her to sit on him. He hates her farts but he wants them badly to give him something to think about. She spends the next hour restocking her shelves and jars with fresh supply. Her chair has managed to start crying, begging in his head to be used. Hanhathar then pulls him out and sits down much to his joy and excitement. He spends the next several hours loving the darkness and her awful gas.
After a few months of use he has fully lost his mind and only thinks of her ass and nothing else. Every second his nose isn’t buried and sniffing is a thousand years of nothingness. He has long since forgotten his name and all memories that aren't her voice, ass, farts, and the bottom of the desk. He has begun to feel a slight wobble to the legs of her chair that she seems to not notice. He grows terrified of dying and not having her ass on his nose and never getting her gas again. Another week of his madness continues and the wobble begins to grow worse with each day. During the night she drops her thick ass on his begging nose and he finally gives out. The legs of the chair fold sideways and his face snaps away from the legs leaving the chair in multiple pieces all over the floor.
Hanhathar stands up off the floor and says, ”Damn that fucking hurt! That was a really good chair while it lasted. Where the hell did I get it from again?” She stands up and starts to pile her chair up much to the horror of Faleum. She shrugs her shoulders and says, “Oh well I’ll just have to find another comfy desk chair I guess.” Hanhathar, having completely forgotten about her transforming a person into her chair, throws him into the woods like the trash he now is. He is still very much still alive, well as much as a chair could be. He then tumbles and lands face up between a couple trees.
He then spends the next several years watching the seasons pass him by while begging for her ass but to never get it again. Nature slowly reclaims him and buries him slowly into the earth and decaying his body. Being of magical origin this takes the better part of a couple of decades before he finally dies and is released from his chair prison. Wherever he ends up in the afterlife one thing is certain, he will be begging for the ass and gas of his previous owner but will never receive it ever again.