The Industry

Author: Closet Fetishist
Written: January 21st, 2026

The door closed behind a handsome actor as he left the casting room, his confident stride and chiseled jawline still lingering in Brittany's mind. She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, crossing her legs and tapping her manicured nails against the stack of headshots. Next to her, Melanie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her plus-sized frame barely contained by the office chair as she set down her reader's script.

"That one has potential," Brittany purred, her eyes still fixed on the door. "Make a note to call him back for the chemistry read." She flipped to the next headshot in the pile and her expression immediately soured. The smile that had graced her lips moments ago twisted into a grimace of disgust as she held up the photo of Raj.

"Oh god, not this guy again," she groaned, showing the headshot to Melanie. "Third time this month he's submitted for one of my projects. Absolutely zero chance." Brittany's voice dripped with disdain as she tossed the headshot onto the desk.

Melanie nodded in agreement, her face contorting slightly as she pressed a hand against her rumbling stomach. "Ugh, I remember him from that commercial casting last week. Terrible line delivery." She shifted again, wincing. "Sorry, Britt. That cream of broccoli soup I had for lunch was a mistake. My IBS is acting up something fierce."

A slow, wicked smile spread across Brittany's face as she watched Melanie rub her bloated belly. Her eyes lit up with malicious inspiration. "Actually, Mel... I just had the most delicious idea." She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially despite them being alone in the room. "Instead of just rejecting him outright, why don't we have a little fun? You know, give him the full 'audition experience' he so desperately wants?"

"What did you have in mind?" Melanie asked, a matching devious grin forming on her round face as another gurgle emanated from her stomach.

"You'll be his scene partner," Brittany explained, her excitement building. "I'll tell him it's an intimate scene that requires physical closeness. And you..." she gestured to Melanie's stomach, "...just let nature take its course. I'll pretend I'm evaluating his ability to stay in character under pressure." Brittany's hand slid subtly between her thighs as she spoke, her arousal already building at the thought of the humiliation they were about to inflict. "Just follow my lead and go with whatever I say. It'll be so much fun watching him squirm."

"Oh my god, yes!" Melanie cackled, her eyes gleaming with mischievous delight. "I've been holding back all afternoon. This is perfect timing." She patted her stomach proudly. "Should I call him in now?"

"Absolutely," Brittany replied, quickly composing herself and adopting a professional facade. She straightened the papers on her desk and adjusted her blouse, making sure she looked every bit the serious casting director. "Let's give Mr. Raj an audition he'll never forget." As Melanie waddled to the door, Brittany couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. These were the moments that made her otherwise tedious job truly enjoyable – finding new ways to torment the hopeless dreamers who would never make it in this industry while satisfying her own perverse desires.

Melanie's heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway as she called out with false cheerfulness, "Raj? We're ready for you now!" She returned moments later with a thin, awkward-looking man trailing behind her like a lost puppy. His Hawaiian shirt hung loosely on his frame, the vibrant pattern a stark contrast to his perpetually downcast expression. Despite the smile plastered across his face, his eyes remained dull and lifeless, as if he'd already accepted rejection before even beginning.

"Raj! So good to see you again," Brittany exclaimed with practiced enthusiasm, her jaw clenched so tightly behind her smile that a vein pulsed at her temple. Something about this pathetic man triggered a visceral disgust in her that she couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was his desperate eagerness, or maybe just the way he carried himself like he actually believed he had a chance in this industry. She watched as he clutched his sides nervously, already preparing to read.

"Actually, we're going to try something a little different today," Brittany announced, cutting him off before he could even begin. Her voice took on that special authoritative tone she reserved for these special auditions. "For this particular role, we need to see how you handle... intimate proximity with another actor while maintaining character." She gestured toward the wall. I'd like you to kneel down right there, facing the wall.

Raj hesitantly placed his sides on a nearby chair and did as instructed, his confusion evident but his desperation to please even more apparent. "Yes, that's right, so I can see your profile." Brittany felt a familiar tingle between her legs as she watched him assume the vulnerable position. She turned to Melanie, "Mel, could you position that stool right in front of him?" Melanie complied, her massive frame moving with surprising grace as she arranged the furniture, her stomach gurgling audibly in the quiet room. "Perfect, right at face height."

"Now, Melanie will be your scene partner today," Brittany continued, her professional facade barely containing her growing excitement. "This is a very... physical role, and we need to see how you handle close contact." She nodded to Melanie, who was already lowering her substantial backside onto the stool, positioning herself so that her ample buttocks were mere inches from Raj's face. The fabric of her tight skirt stretched dangerously across her wide hips as she settled in. "The scene involves intense proximity, Raj. Your character must maintain composure while experiencing... sensory overload." Brittany's hand discreetly slid beneath her desk, finding its way under her skirt as she watched Melanie's ass nearly engulf Raj's face. "Are you ready to begin?" she asked, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as Melanie shifted on the stool, her stomach rumbling ominously.

Raj looks right at Melanie's butt with a bit of fear, hearing her stomach sounds. "Uh...yes, I'm ready. Do I have any lines to say?"

A predatory smile spread across Brittany's face as she watched Raj's eyes widen with apprehension. The fear in his expression only heightened her arousal as she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs to apply pressure against her growing wetness. She exchanged a knowing glance with Melanie, whose massive buttocks were now positioned mere inches from Raj's face, the thin fabric of her skirt straining against her curves.

"Lines?" Brittany repeated with mock thoughtfulness, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "This is more of a... physical improvisation exercise, Raj. We need to see how you maintain composure and connection with your scene partner under... unusual circumstances." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The character you're auditioning for needs to portray intense desire while being completely overwhelmed. Just stay in the moment and react naturally to whatever Melanie does."

Melanie shifted on the stool, deliberately pushing her enormous ass closer to Raj's face. The movement caused her stomach to gurgle loudly, a sound that made Brittany bite her lower lip in anticipation. Melanie's round face contorted slightly as she pressed a hand against her bloated belly, her eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.

"Should I begin, Brittany?" Melanie asked innocently, though the wicked smile playing at her lips betrayed her true intentions. Without waiting for a response, she wiggled her hips, bringing her buttocks within an inch of Raj's nose. "I'm feeling very... inspired today." Another loud gurgle emanated from her stomach, and she patted it gently. "Oh my, excuse me. Must have been that lunch I had earlier. You know how my lactose intolerance acts up."

Brittany's hand moved more deliberately beneath her desk now, her breathing becoming slightly labored as she watched the scene unfold. "Perfect, Melanie. Now, Raj, I want you to place your hands on the floor and lean forward slightly. This scene requires your character to be completely submissive to your partner's advances." She pretended to write more notes, though her eyes never left Raj's increasingly uncomfortable expression. "Remember, the camera will be catching every microexpression, so try to convey desire mixed with apprehension. That's what we're looking for here. And don't worry about Melanie's... digestive issues. A true professional can work through any distraction." Her voice caught slightly as she felt herself growing wetter at the thought of what was about to happen. "Action," she whispered, the word hanging in the air like a death sentence.

A wicked gleam flashed in Brittany's eyes as she watched the scene unfold before her. The moment Raj opened his mouth to deliver what he thought would be an impressive improvised line, Melanie's body tensed slightly, her massive buttocks clenching before releasing a thunderous, wet-sounding fart directly into his face. The flatulence erupted with such force that Raj's dark hair actually rippled backward, his head involuntarily jerking from the sudden assault on his senses.

"Oh my!" Melanie exclaimed with feigned embarrassment, though her shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. "I am so sorry about that. My IBS, you know." She wiggled her enormous backside even closer to Raj's face, ensuring he couldn't escape the noxious cloud now enveloping him. "Please, continue with your performance. A professional actor shouldn't be distracted by little things like this."

Brittany bit her lower lip hard to suppress her laughter as she watched Raj struggle not to gag, his eyes watering as the putrid stench invaded his nostrils. The rotten egg smell, intensified by Melanie's lunch, had created a particularly foul concoction that now surrounded the hapless actor. Brittany's hand moved more frantically beneath her desk, her arousal peaking as she witnessed his humiliation. The way he tried to maintain composure while clearly fighting his body's natural reaction to the disgusting smell sent waves of pleasure through her core.

"That's... interesting body language, Raj," Brittany commented, her voice husky with barely concealed excitement. "I'm seeing real conflict in your expression. That's good—that's exactly what this character needs to convey." She made a show of writing something on her clipboard, "Melanie, perhaps you could move even closer? In the actual scene, there would be no space between the actors at all. We need to see how Raj handles true intimacy."

Melanie nodded enthusiastically, her massive body shifting forward until her buttocks were practically pressing against Raj's nose and mouth. Her stomach gurgled ominously again, signaling another gaseous eruption was imminent. "Like this, Brittany?" she asked innocently, though the malicious delight in her voice was unmistakable. "I really feel the connection building between us as scene partners. Don't you feel it too, Raj?" She glanced over her shoulder, her round face flushed with excitement as she watched him struggle to maintain his composure, trapped between professional desperation and physical revulsion. "Oh, I think I feel another... creative impulse coming on," she added with a wink toward Brittany, whose fingers were now working furiously beneath her skirt, her breathing becoming increasingly labored as she anticipated the next degrading moment in their cruel charade.

Without warning, Melanie's body tensed again, her massive buttocks clenching before releasing an even more powerful blast directly into Raj's face. This fart was longer, deeper, and somehow even more putrid than the first—a bubbling, wet sound that seemed to go on forever, vibrating against his skin. The stench was immediate and overwhelming, a toxic cloud of rotten eggs and sour milk that filled the small audition space.

"Oopsie!" Melanie giggled, wiggling her enormous backside even closer until the fabric of her skirt was practically brushing against Raj's lips. "That creamy broccoli soup really doesn't agree with me today. But don't let it break your concentration, sweetie. We're just getting started with our scene."

Brittany watched with growing excitement as Raj desperately tried to avoid inhaling through his nose, his mouth opening wide to gasp for cleaner air. Her fingers worked frantically beneath her skirt, her thighs trembling slightly as she observed his humiliation. The sight of his suffering—the watering eyes, the twitching facial muscles as he fought against gagging—was pushing her closer to the edge. But his open-mouthed breathing was ruining the perfect picture of degradation she was crafting in her mind.

"Raj," Brittany called out sharply, her voice stern despite her aroused state. "What are you doing with your mouth? That's completely taking me out of the scene." She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing critically. "Your character wouldn't be gasping like a fish out of water. It's distracting and unprofessional. Close your mouth and breathe normally. This is a serious audition, not amateur hour."

Melanie turned slightly to look over her shoulder at Raj, her round face flushed with malicious delight. "Maybe he needs to be closer to really feel the... connection between our characters," she suggested, pressing her enormous buttocks backward until they made contact with Raj's face, practically engulfing his features. Her stomach gurgled ominously again, the sound liquid and threatening. "I think I'm really getting into character now, Brittany. I can feel another... emotional moment coming on." She grinned at Brittany, whose breathing had become noticeably labored, her free hand gripping the edge of her desk as she watched Raj's face disappear between Melanie's massive cheeks. "How's the view back there, Raj?" Melanie asked with mock sweetness. "Remember, a true actor commits fully to every scene, no matter how... challenging the circumstances might be."

Raj struggles to choke out the words, his senses completely overloaded by Melanie's flatulence. "Oh, it's wonderful, dear," Raj says, trying to play some semblance of a character. "I love your body in its entirety."

A triumphant smile spread across Brittany's face as she watched Raj's pathetic attempt to maintain his dignity. His words came out strained and choked, barely audible through the assault of Melanie's noxious gases. His suffering sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her body. Her fingers worked more frantically beneath her desk, her breathing becoming increasingly labored as she approached her peak.

"That's better, Raj," Brittany called out, her voice husky with arousal. "I'm finally seeing some authentic emotion in your performance. The desperation in your voice is... quite convincing." She scribbled some more on her notes, though her hand trembled slightly with excitement. "But I need to see more commitment to the physical aspect of the scene. Your character is supposed to be overwhelmed with desire, not just saying the words."

Melanie giggled maliciously, grinding her enormous buttocks against Raj's face with renewed vigor. The movement caused her stomach to gurgle loudly, a wet, bubbling sound that promised worse to come. "Oh, he's doing his best, Brittany," she cooed, glancing over her shoulder at the trapped actor. "Aren't you, sweetie? But I think he needs more... inspiration." Without warning, she tensed her body and released another fart, this one longer and somehow even more putrid than the previous ones. The sound was wet and bubbling, like air being forced through thick mud, and the stench was immediate—a horrific combination of sulfur, spoiled dairy, and something indefinably rotten.

"Mmmmm, that was a good one," Melanie sighed contentedly, wiggling her hips to ensure Raj got the full effect. "Now, what was that you were saying about loving my body?" She pressed back harder, practically smothering him between her massive cheeks. "Maybe you should show me how much you love it. In this scene, your character would be kissing my character passionately. Brittany, don't you think we should see if Raj can handle that level of intimacy?"

Brittany's eyes widened with sadistic delight at Melanie's suggestion, her arousal reaching new heights as she imagined Raj's further humiliation. "Absolutely, Melanie. That's exactly what this scene calls for." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a commanding whisper. "Raj, I need you to kiss Melanie's... posterior. With passion and conviction. Show us you can fully commit to a role, no matter how challenging." Her hand working furiously beneath her skirt as she watched Raj's face contort with horror. "This is your chance to prove you have what it takes. Many actors would kill for this opportunity." A small, involuntary moan escaped her lips as she imagined him pressing his lips against Melanie's gas-emitting backside. "Action," she whispered, the word hanging in the air like a death sentence as Melanie's stomach gurgled ominously once more, signaling that the worst was yet to come.

Raj's eyes widened almost out of his head as Melanie lifts her skirt a bit and pushes her panties to the side. "No..." Raj involuntarily lets the words whimper from his mouth nearly inaudible but Melanie hears it which makes her have to stifle a laugh while pretending she didn't hear it.

A triumphant shudder ran through Brittany's body as she watched Raj's horrified expression. The moment Melanie lifted her skirt and pushed her underwear aside, revealing her bare, enormous buttocks, Brittany had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. The look of pure terror in Raj's eyes as he realized what was being demanded of him sent waves of pleasure coursing through her core. His barely audible whimper of protest only heightened her arousal, her fingers working more frantically beneath her desk as she watched the degrading scene unfold.

"I didn't quite catch that, Raj," Brittany called out, her voice husky with excitement. "Remember, projection is key in this industry. The camera needs to hear every word." She shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together tightly as she watched Melanie push her naked ass even closer to Raj's face, leaving him nowhere to escape. "And don't break character. This is a professional audition."

Melanie's massive buttocks now hovered mere inches from Raj's trembling lips, her flesh jiggling slightly as she positioned herself. The pungent smell of her unwashed crack filled the small space between them, mixing with the lingering stench of her previous gaseous emissions. She glanced over her shoulder, her round face flushed with malicious delight as she watched Raj struggle to maintain his composure.

"I think our scene partner needs some encouragement, Brittany," Melanie cooed, wiggling her enormous backside tauntingly. "He seems a little... hesitant to fully commit to the role." Her stomach gurgled ominously, the sound wet and threatening as pressure built inside her bowels. She could feel another massive eruption brewing, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

As Raj finally surrendered to the humiliation, leaning forward with puckered lips, "I...your... body is a wonderland, my sweet. I live to embrace you." Melanie's body tensed and the moment his lips made contact with her sweaty crack, she released a thunderous, wet-sounding fart directly into his open mouth. The flatulence erupted with such force that it actually pushed against his tongue, the hot, putrid gas filling his oral cavity with its rancid flavor. The sound—a long, vibrating PRRRRRRRRRRPPPPTTTTT that seemed to go on forever—echoed throughout the small audition room.

"Oh YES!" Melanie exclaimed, staying in character despite barely containing her laughter. "That's how you show your love, baby! Feel the passion between us!" She ground her ass harder against his face, ensuring he couldn't escape the noxious cloud now filling his mouth and nostrils. "Don't stop now, the scene is just getting good!" Her stomach gurgled again, promising more gaseous punishment to come.

Brittany could barely contain herself, her breathing now coming in short, sharp gasps as she watched Raj's complete degradation. The sight of his lips pressed against Melanie's bare ass while she farted directly into his mouth was the most arousing thing she had witnessed in all her years of tormenting hopeful actors. Her fingers moved with frantic urgency beneath her skirt, her thighs trembling as she approached her peak.

"That's... that's excellent chemistry," Brittany managed to say between labored breaths, her voice thick with arousal. "I'm seeing real... connection between you two. Raj, I need you to... to really show your devotion now. In this scene, your character would be... tasting the object of his desire. Really... exploring with your tongue." She made no attempt to hide her excitement now, her free hand gripping the edge of her desk so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Show us what you're willing to do for this role, Raj. How far you're willing to go to prove your... commitment to the craft."

Brittany's entire body trembled with ecstasy as she watched Raj's complete degradation unfold before her. His face—once hopeful and eager to impress—now contorted in a mixture of disgust and desperate professionalism as he extended his tongue into Melanie's unwashed crack. Brittany's fingers worked frantically beneath her skirt, her breathing becoming increasingly erratic as she approached her climax. The sight of his tears welling up, the absolute destruction of his dignity, sent electric waves of pleasure through her core.

"That's it, Raj," Brittany gasped, barely able to form words as her arousal peaked. "Show us... show us your commitment to the... the craft."

Melanie's massive body shuddered as she felt Raj's reluctant tongue make contact with her puckered anus. Her eyes met Brittany's across the room, a silent communication of malicious triumph passing between them. The casting director's flushed face and trembling hands told Melanie everything she needed to know—their cruel game was reaching its perfect conclusion.

"Oh yes, just like that, Raj," Melanie moaned theatrically, grinding her enormous buttocks against his face to ensure his tongue penetrated deeper into her crack. "Your passion is so... convincing." She shot Brittany an enthusiastic look, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as she felt Raj's tongue reluctantly circling her anus. "Brittany, I think we've found our star. His technique is... mmm... quite impressive."

Without warning, Melanie's stomach gurgled loudly—a wet, threatening sound that echoed throughout the small audition room. She tensed her body, feeling the pressure build inside her bowels before releasing another powerful blast directly onto Raj's extended tongue. The fart erupted with a wet, bubbling PRRRRRRPPPPTTTTT that seemed to vibrate against his taste buds, filling his mouth with its putrid flavor. The stench was immediate and overwhelming—a toxic combination of rotten eggs, spoiled dairy, and the unique sourness of her unwashed crack.

Raj's body convulsed violently, his natural gag reflex fighting against his desperate attempt to maintain professionalism. His shoulders heaved forward as if to retreat, but somehow he forced himself to remain in position, his tongue still extended into Melanie's crack despite the revolting assault on his senses. This final display of degraded determination pushed Brittany over the edge. Her back arched sharply, her thighs clamping together around her hand as waves of intense pleasure crashed through her body. A strangled moan escaped her lips as she climaxed violently, her eyes never leaving the humiliating tableau before her.

"And... scene," Brittany gasped, her voice hoarse with satisfaction as the last tremors of her orgasm subsided. She withdrew her hand from beneath her skirt, discretely wiping her fingers on a tissue from her desk drawer before standing on slightly wobbly legs. "That was... quite impressive, Raj."

Both women began to applaud, the sound echoing mockingly in the small room as Melanie finally stepped away from Raj's face. His expression was dazed, his eyes unfocused and watering profusely from the lingering stench that still surrounded him. A weak, confused smile flickered across his lips at the sound of their applause—a pathetic attempt to salvage some semblance of professional dignity from the degrading ordeal.

"You really committed to the role," Melanie said cheerfully, adjusting her skirt and underwear back into place. "Not many actors would go that... deep into character." She exchanged an amused glance with Brittany, barely containing her laughter as Raj struggled to stand, his legs wobbling beneath him like a newborn colt. The smell of her flatulence still clung to his face, his breath, his very being—a lingering reminder of his complete humiliation.

"We'll... be in touch," Brittany added, her professional demeanor returning now that her lustful needs had been satisfied. She watched with detached amusement as Raj attempted to regain his composure, his vision clearly blurred, his balance unsteady. Brittany turned her attention away dismissively, already mentally moving on to her next audition as Raj stumbled toward the door.

Raj left the audition room and quietly closed the door behind him. His face was hollow, unreadable, as he avoided the eyes of the other hopeful actors, most of whom were already turned inward, heads buried into their sides. He walked out of the office and to his car, opened the door, climbed in, and shut it again. For a moment, he simply sat there, staring out at the constant rush of Santa Monica Avenue while the sounds of passing traffic thudded dully through the glass. The memory of what he had just endured came crashing back all at once. His vision blurred, tears welled, and he lowered his head onto the steering wheel, a soft, broken sob escaping before he could stop it. The taste of Melanie's ass and flatulence still coated his tongue—a souvenir of his Hollywood dreams turned nightmare.

Inside the casting office, Brittany Slater leaned back in her chair, still basking in the afterglow of her climax. Her breathing had finally returned to normal, but the satisfied smile remained plastered across her face as she exchanged a knowing look with Melanie.

"That was possibly your best work yet, Mel," Brittany purred, running her fingers through her brunette hair. "Did you see his face when you lifted your skirt? I thought he might actually run screaming." She laughed, a melodic sound that belied the malice behind it. Her phone buzzed on the desk, and she glanced at it dismissively before returning her attention to her assistant.

"God, I needed that," Melanie sighed contentedly, plopping down in a chair across from Brittany's desk. Her stomach gurgled again, and she patted it affectionately. "That poor bastard. The yogurt parfait I had for breakfast and the soup from lunch really did the trick. I don't think I've ever produced such toxic gas." She giggled, the sound incongruously girlish coming from such a large woman. "Did you see how he tried to maintain his dignity? Pathetic."

Brittany nodded, opening her desk drawer to retrieve a small bottle of perfume, which she spritzed around the room in a half-hearted attempt to clear the lingering stench. "These desperate little nobodies will do anything for a shot at fame. It's almost too easy." She paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Though I have to admit, he lasted longer than most. Usually they break down completely by the time we get to the kissing part."

"Should we actually call him back?" Melanie asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just to fuck with him more? Make him think he's got a callback only to put him through something even worse?" Her eyes gleamed with sadistic anticipation as she imagined new torments for the unfortunate actor.

Brittany considered this for a moment, tapping her manicured nails against the polished surface of her desk. "Maybe. Let's see if he even makes it to his car without vomiting first." She swiveled in her chair to face the window, which looked out at the street in front of the office. From this vantage point, she could see Raj's hunched figure making his way to his vehicle, his steps unsteady, his shoulders slumped in defeat. A predatory smile spread across her face as she watched him climb into his car and then... just sit there. Even from this distance, she could see the moment he broke down, his body shaking with sobs as he collapsed against the steering wheel.

"Oh look, Mel," Brittany called, gesturing for her assistant to join her at the window. "Our little star is having his emotional breakdown right on schedule." She felt a renewed tingle between her legs as she watched Raj's suffering continue. "God, that's almost as good as watching him lick your ass." She pressed her hand against the glass, as if trying to reach out and touch his misery. "I think we should definitely call him back. Talent like that deserves... special attention."

Melanie waddled over to the window, her massive body still emanating the foul odor of her digestive distress. She peered down at Raj's car, a cruel smile spreading across her fleshy face. "Poor baby," she cooed with mock sympathy. "Should I go down there and offer him some... comfort?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, patting her still-gurgling stomach. "I've got plenty more where that came from."

"No, let him stew in it," Brittany replied, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as she continued to watch Raj's breakdown. "The anticipation of what comes next is half the fun. We'll call him tomorrow, tell him he's got a callback for a more... intimate scene. Something that requires even more commitment." She turned away from the window finally, her eyes gleaming with malicious creativity.

---

The next morning, Raj sits in his cramped apartment, staring blankly at his computer screen as casting calls scroll past on Actors Access. His eyes glaze over until a familiar name stops him cold. Brittany Slater. For a brief moment, yesterday rushes back in sharp, uncomfortable fragments, but he exhales and forces it aside.

The sudden ring of his phone makes him flinch. He hesitates, then answers.

“Hi Raj,” a bright voice says. “This is Melanie from Slater Casting. We really loved your audition yesterday afternoon and we would love to have you come in for a callback today. Would one o’clock work for you?”

Raj’s chest tightens. Excitement flickers, immediately colliding with the lingering dread he has been trying not to examine too closely. His mind spins, weighing opportunity against instinct. After a beat, he swallows.

“Uh, yes. One p.m. works great.”

“Perfect,” Melanie replies, her enthusiasm undimmed. “Plan to clear some time. We will probably have you here for an hour or two so we can chemistry read you with a few actors. See you soon.”

The line goes dead. Raj lowers the phone and checks the time. Just enough to shower and make it across town.

When he arrives at the office, the waiting room gives him pause. Every seat is filled with women. Most of them are heavier set. The detail registers, but he pushes past it, reminding himself that casting rooms are always strange, always unpredictable. He had talked himself up the entire drive over. This is just nerves.

Melanie appears in the doorway and locks eyes with him. Her smile is warm, almost too warm.

“Raj. Right on time. Come on in.”

She leads him down the hall and into the casting room. The casting room seemed smaller today, more intimate and threatening with the coffin-sized black box, upolstered in leather dominating the center of the space. Near the top portion of the box was a barely noticable oval-shaped hole that was covered with black mesh.

Brittany Slater is nowhere to be seen. Melanie's round face beamed with barely contained excitement as she closed the door behind Raj, her massive body blocking his only exit route. Her eyes gleamed with malicious anticipation as she watched Raj's nervous gaze dart around the room, searching for Brittany.

"Unfortunately, Brittany is feeling under the weather today," Melanie explained, her voice dripping with false sympathy. A subtle lie that masked the truth—Brittany was perfectly fine, watching everything from her office through the hidden camera mounted in the corner. "So I'll be conducting the callbacks today." Her massive thighs rubbed together as she waddled toward the mysterious box, the fabric of her dress making a soft swishing sound with each step. "She was very impressed with your... commitment yesterday."

Melanie gestured toward the mysterious black structure with an air of theatrical importance. "This is actually a specialized prop for today's audition. We're testing for a psychological horror sequence—one that requires genuine reactions to confined spaces."

Melanie circled the box slowly, her fingers trailing along its edges with reverent precision. "The scene involves a character trapped in darkness, experiencing sensory isolation before supernatural elements are introduced." She carefully lifted the top to reveal the hard wooden interior and the open lid made the oval hole even more apparent from this side as the black mesh was stapled to the unfinished wood. "You'll be enclosed in here, delivering your lines while experiencing authentic claustrophobia. The director believes authentic reactions create the most compelling footage."

"We have several actresses waiting to perform the supernatural elements of the scene," she continued, her voice taking on a more clinical tone than yesterday's overtly sadistic one. "They'll be working above you while you're in the box, but don't worry about that part yet. First, we need to capture your baseline terror reactions." Her stomach gurgled audibly, but she ignored it with professional poise. "Brittany was particularly impressed with your emotional range yesterday—she said your face conveyed exactly the kind of visceral reactions this role demands."

"Now," Melanie said, patting the box invitingly, "we'll need you in just your underwear for this portion. The character is vulnerable, stripped of protection both literally and figuratively. The first few minutes will just be you alone in darkness, conveying mounting dread. Then we'll bring in your first scene partner." Her eyes gleamed with subtle anticipation as she stepped back, giving him space to undress. "Don't worry about looking silly—some of Hollywood's biggest stars got their break doing experimental scenes just like this. Brittany has an eye for spotting raw talent in... uncomfortable situations."

Melanie's eyes gleamed with malicious delight as she watched Raj reluctantly strip down to his underwear. His discomfort was palpable—shoulders hunched, eyes darting nervously to the coffin-like box that awaited him. She bit her lower lip, savoring each moment of his hesitation, knowing that Brittany would be watching the hidden camera feed with growing arousal from her private office.

"That's it, Raj," Melanie encouraged with false warmth as he finally climbed into the box. "Just lie back and get comfortable." She adjusted the small cushion beneath his head with mock tenderness, positioning him perfectly beneath the mesh opening at the top of the box. Her stomach gurgled audibly—a warning of digestive distress that made her smile inwardly. "Remember, this is all about authentic reactions. The camera loves genuine fear."

With a theatrical flourish, she closed the lid, plunging Raj into near-darkness save for the faint light filtering through the mesh above his face. "Okay, you can start anytime... action," she instructed, watching through a small monitor as his face contorted in practiced terror. His performance was measured—too measured for what they had planned—but that would change soon enough.

"That's great, Raj; I'm really feeling your discomfort and fear!" Melanie praised, her voice dripping with false encouragement. She adjusted the camera angle slightly, ensuring it captured every nuance of his expression. "Now I'm going to bring in your first partner but one thing is super important for this role, you can't make any noise whatsoever, okay? Your scene partner should have zero awareness that you are there, understand?"

When Raj agreed, Melanie's lips curled into a predatory smile. She opened the door and beckoned to a heavyset woman in her forties with frizzy red hair and pale, doughy skin. Silvia entered the room, completely unaware of Raj's presence in the box, genuinely believing she was here to audition for a comedy role. Melanie deliberately spoke loudly enough for Raj to hear through the box. "Okay Silvia, thanks for coming in. You saw the scene notes, I take it?"

"Uh yes, it's a bit strange," Silvia chuckled, her voice carrying a nasal quality that matched her appearance. "But it's the perfect role for me, but are you sure it's okay if I'm farting in here, my gas can be pretty bad." She patted her distended stomach, which gurgled ominously in response, completely oblivious to the fact that a man was trapped beneath where she would soon be sitting.

"Absolutely no problem at all," Melanie laughed, maintaining the charade for both parties. "I have a very similar problem so no worries, I'm quite used to it. This comedy is all about embracing body functions naturally, the director wants authentic reactions. So you're going to sit right here on this special effects box..." She guided Silvia to position her substantial backside directly over the mesh opening of the box. Through the small monitor, Melanie could see the genuine horror dawning on Raj's face as the box compressed slightly under Silvia's weight, the mesh now just inches from his nose and mouth. Silvia's massive buttocks spread across the opening, blocking most of the light and air.

"Perfect," Melanie said enthusiastically. "Now remember, Silvia, this is a comedy about a woman with uncontrollable gas at a fancy dinner party. Really let yourself go—the more authentic, the better. We need to see if you can deliver the physical comedy this role requires." She stepped back, clipboard in hand, maintaining her professional façade while inwardly delighting in the cruel deception being perpetrated on both parties. "And... action!"

"Oh my goodness," Silvia began, shifting uncomfortably on the box as she got into character. "I shouldn't have had those beans before coming to the Ambassador's dinner!" She wiggled her substantial hips, grinding her backside against the mesh as she performed what she genuinely believed was a comedic audition. Beneath her, Raj's eyes widened in horror as the mesh pressed against his face, forcing him to inhale the musty scent of Silvia's unwashed posterior through the thin fabric of her panties. Silvia's stomach rumbled loudly—a warning of the impending assault on Raj's senses.

"That's great energy, Silvia!" Melanie encouraged, watching both the actress's earnest performance and Raj's mounting terror on the monitor. "Now remember, this character is trying desperately to hold it in but failing miserably. Let's see that internal struggle!" Silvia nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware that her acting was about to become a genuine torture session for the man trapped beneath her. Her face contorted in mock concentration, her body tensing as she prepared to deliver what she thought was simply an over-the-top comedic performance—while Melanie's finger hovered over the button that would alert Brittany that the real show was about to begin.

In her private office, Brittany Slater's eyes were glued to the monitor displaying Raj's torment in high definition. Her breathing had grown shallow, her pupils dilated with sadistic pleasure as she watched his face contort in genuine horror. The soft fabric of her yoga pants provided delicious friction as she rubbed herself with increasing urgency, her free hand gripping the armrest of her leather chair.

"Oh god, yes," she whispered to the empty room, her voice husky with arousal. "Look at his face... that's real terror." She zoomed in on Raj's eyes, wide with panic as Silvia shifted her substantial weight above him. Brittany's phone buzzed with a text from Melanie: "It's about to get worse. She had Indian food for lunch." Brittany's lips curled into a predatory smile as she texted back: "Make sure he can't escape. I want to see him break."

In the audition room, Silvia's stomach emitted a threatening gurgle that even Raj could hear through the box. She shifted uncomfortably, pressing her substantial backside more firmly against the mesh as she continued her oblivious performance.

"Oh my goodness," Silvia projected dramatically, one hand fluttering to her chest. "I can feel it coming—I simply cannot hold it in any longer!" Her face contorted with theatrical effort before her body relaxed suddenly. "Ohhhhh!" she exclaimed as a prolonged, wet-sounding fart erupted from her backside, funneling directly through the mesh and into Raj's confined space.

The putrid gas—a noxious blend of rotten eggs, spoiled vegetables, and something indescribably foul—filled the tiny chamber instantly. Through the monitor, Brittany could see Raj's immediate gag reflex, the way his throat constricted as he desperately fought to maintain silence. His nostrils flared as he tried to hold his breath, eyes watering uncontrollably as the toxic cloud enveloped him. Melanie, standing behind Silvia with clipboard in hand, made direct eye contact with the hidden camera and winked slowly, knowing exactly what Brittany was doing in her office.

"That was excellent, Silvia!" Melanie encouraged, her voice deliberately loud and cheerful. "But I think we need more authenticity. Remember, this character has been holding it in all evening at this fancy dinner party. When it finally comes out, it should be... explosive." She glanced down at the monitor showing Raj's reddening face, his chest beginning to heave with the need for oxygen. "Maybe try shifting positions? Sometimes a different angle can help you... release more naturally."

Raj's fear and disgust is palpable in his tiny, smell prison. He tries to turn his body around so he's not face to ass with the smell but he doesn't have enough room to do so, he turns his head slightly which is the only thing he can do for the slightest modicum of relief but it's barely anything as the horrible odor recirculates and remains trapped with him.

In her office, Brittany Slater's breathing quickened as she watched Raj's futile attempts to escape the toxic cloud. Her hand moved more urgently between her legs, pressing the thin fabric of her yoga pants against her swelling clit. The sight of his genuine suffering—the way his eyes bulged, the desperate twisting of his head—sent electric pulses of pleasure through her core. She zoomed in further on the monitor, savoring every microexpression of horror on his face.

"That's it," she whispered to herself, her free hand now slipping beneath her waistband. "Breathe it in, you pathetic little worm." Her fingers found their rhythm as she watched Silvia shift her substantial weight directly over the mesh, completely unaware of the torment she was inflicting on the man below.

In the audition room, Melanie's eyes gleamed with malicious delight as she observed Raj's desperate attempts to turn away from the source of his torment. The confined space of the box allowed him barely an inch of movement—just enough to twist his head slightly to the side before the recirculating stench found him again. Through the small monitor, she could see his lips forming silent pleas, his eyes watering uncontrollably as Silvia repositioned herself above him.

"Silvia, that's wonderful energy," Melanie encouraged, her voice dripping with false professionalism. "But I think we need to see more physical commitment to the role. Try straightening your back and really... centering yourself over the prop." She gestured subtly, guiding Silvia to press her massive buttocks more firmly against the mesh. "Remember, this character is mortified but also somewhat relieved when she finally lets go. Show us that internal conflict!"

Silvia nodded eagerly, completely oblivious to Raj's suffering beneath her. She straightened her spine and pressed her thighs together, effectively sealing her buttocks directly over the mesh opening. Her stomach gurgled ominously—a warning of what was to come.

"Like this?" Silvia asked, wiggling slightly to get comfortable. "I feel like she'd be so embarrassed but also—" Her sentence was cut short as her body betrayed her. A thunderous, wet-sounding fart erupted from between her cheeks, the sound amplified horrifically within Raj's tiny prison. The flapping noise reverberated against the walls of the box, creating a deafening cacophony that assaulted his ears while the putrid stench simultaneously invaded his nostrils. "Oh my goodness!" Silvia exclaimed, genuinely startled by the volume and duration of her emission. "That wasn't even acting! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't apologize!" Melanie insisted, fighting to keep her sadistic glee from showing too plainly on her face. "That's exactly the authenticity we're looking for. The director will love this raw, unfiltered performance." She glanced down at the monitor, delighting in Raj's silent agony as the noxious gas filled his confined space. His face had taken on a greenish pallor, his eyes streaming tears as he fought against the urge to vomit. "Now, let's try another take. This time, I want you to really lean into the character's embarrassment after the fact. Maybe shift your weight a bit... press down more firmly on the prop to show how she's trying to disappear into her seat."

In her office, Brittany Slater erupted into uncontrollable laughter as she watched Raj's violent gagging on the monitor. His desperate head-shaking—like a drowning man fighting for air—sent waves of pleasure through her body as she intensified her self-pleasuring, her fingers working furiously beneath her yoga pants. The sight of his genuine suffering was intoxicating, his eyes bulging with panic as Silvia's noxious fumes filled his tiny prison.

"That's it," Brittany moaned to herself, her back arching slightly as she approached climax. "Breathe it all in, you worthless little nobody." Her breathing grew ragged as she watched Silvia shift her substantial weight, pressing her buttocks down with crushing force over the mesh opening, completely sealing out any light or fresh air from Raj's confinement.

In the audition room, Silvia remained blissfully unaware of the torment she was inflicting. She leaned forward slightly, her face contorted in mock embarrassment as she continued her performance. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe this is happening at the Ambassador's dinner!" she exclaimed theatrically, wiggling her hips against the mesh. Her stomach gurgled ominously—a sound that now filled Raj with instinctive terror.

"I think I feel another one coming," Silvia announced, fully committed to what she believed was a comedic audition. She pressed down harder, her massive buttocks creating an airtight seal over the mesh as her body tensed. "Oh no, not again—" Her sentence was cut short as her bowels released a particularly vicious blast—a wet, bubbling eruption that sounded almost liquid in nature and carried the unmistakable pungency of curry spices and digestive distress. The fart seemed endless, a sustained release that filled Raj's prison with toxic fumes that clung to the walls and seemed to coat his very skin. "Oh my!" Silvia giggled, genuinely embarrassed by the intensity of her emission.

"And... cut!" Melanie called out, fighting to keep her sadistic glee from showing too plainly on her face. "Silvia, that was absolutely perfect. Such authentic emotion! The director will love this raw, unfiltered performance." She guided the oblivious woman toward the door, maintaining her professional façade. "We'll definitely be in touch about this role. Thank you so much for coming in today." As soon as Silvia disappeared down the hallway, Melanie's false smile dropped, replaced by a predatory grin as she heard the desperate scratching sounds coming from inside the box.

"Please," Raj's muffled voice pleaded as his fingers scrabbled uselessly against the interior of his prison. "I need a break—I can't breathe in here!" His voice carried the ragged edge of genuine panic, his composure completely shattered by the olfactory assault he'd endured. Melanie approached the box, her substantial hips swaying with each deliberate step. She knelt beside it, her voice dropping to a honeyed whisper that belied the cruelty of her words.

"Oh, poor baby," she cooed mockingly. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The box is magnetically sealed for the duration of the audition." This was, of course, a complete lie—but Raj had no way of knowing that. "Besides," she continued, her tone shifting to one of calculated manipulation, "Brittany is absolutely going to love your performance so far. The raw fear in your eyes? The genuine disgust? That's exactly what she's looking for in this role." She tapped the top of the box condescendingly. "Just hang in there a little longer. You wouldn't want to blow your big chance, would you?"

Without waiting for his response, Melanie straightened and strode toward the door, leaving him alone in his fetid prison. In the hallway, she greeted a plump young woman with honey-blonde hair and cherubic features. Kendall Winters smiled nervously as Melanie ushered her toward the audition room. "I'm so sorry if I seem a bit off today," Kendall confided as they walked, her voice carrying a slight southern twang. "I had egg salad for lunch, and my stomach is absolutely furious with me." She patted her slightly distended belly, which responded with an audible gurgle. "It always does this to me—turns my insides into a gas factory. Last time I had egg salad, I cleared out an entire yoga class." She laughed nervously, completely unaware of the sadistic gleam that appeared in Melanie's eyes. "I hope that won't be a problem during the audition?"

"Not at all," Melanie assured her, barely containing her excitement as she guided Kendall into the room where Raj remained trapped. "In fact, for this particular scene, that might actually enhance your performance." She positioned Kendall to sit directly over the mesh covered hole in the box. "Now," Melanie continued, adjusting the hidden camera, "this scene is about a woman experiencing intense anxiety during a blind date. I want you to really channel that discomfort—physical and emotional—into your performance." She stepped back, clipboard in hand, and pressed the button that would alert Brittany that round two of Raj's torment was about to begin. "And... action!"

In her office, Brittany Slater's breathing grew ragged as she watched the new scene unfold on her monitor. Her yoga pants were already pulled down to her knees, her fingers sliding through her soaking wet folds as she watched Raj's torment continue with sadistic delight. The brief moment when he'd had fresh air—when his eyes had shown that flicker of desperate hope—made this new descent into olfactory hell all the more delicious to witness.

"Oh god, look at his face," she moaned to herself, her free hand pinching her hardened nipple through her blouse. "He actually thought it was over." She zoomed in on Raj's expression as Kendall's substantial backside settled over the mesh, the thin material of her leggings doing nothing to contain the ripe, unwashed scent of her crack. Brittany could almost imagine the stench herself—that unmistakable blend of day-old sweat and poorly wiped residue that was now Raj's entire world. Her pussy clenched around her fingers at the thought, her arousal building to a fever pitch.

In the audition room, Kendall shifted uncomfortably on the box completely unaware of the man suffering beneath her. Her stomach gurgled audibly as she began reading from the script Melanie had handed her.

"I'm having such a lovely time tonight, Mark," Kendall recited, her southern accent adding a honeyed quality to the words. "I've been looking forward to this date all—" She paused, her face contorting slightly as her stomach made another threatening sound. "Oh my goodness, excuse me." Below her, Raj retched silently as the concentrated smell of her unwashed ass in thin leggings filled his tiny prison. The fabric was stretched so thin across her ample buttocks that it might as well not have been there at all, allowing the full bouquet of her personal aroma to seep through the mesh directly into his face.

"Kendall, that's perfect," Melanie encouraged, her eyes flicking between Kendall's increasingly uncomfortable expression and the small monitor showing Raj's silent suffering. "But I think we need more physical discomfort. Remember, this character has been holding in gas all evening. Really show us how painful that is." She stepped closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry about being too graphic—this is for a premium cable network. They want authenticity."

"Oh, I can definitely do authentic," Kendall replied with a nervous laugh, shifting her weight directly over the mesh. The movement pressed her ass more firmly against the opening, creating an almost airtight seal that trapped Raj with her fetid scent. "My stomach is actually killing me right now. That egg salad was a huge mistake." As if on cue, her bowels let out a threatening rumble that even Raj could hear through the box. "Oh god," she whispered, momentarily breaking character as she pressed a hand to her distended belly. "I think something's about to—"

The rest of her sentence was lost as her body betrayed her. A long, wet-sounding fart erupted from between her cheeks, the sound amplified horrifically within Raj's tiny prison. The putrid gas—a noxious blend of sulfur and bacterial decay that only egg salad could produce—flooded his confined space instantly. Through the monitor, Brittany could see his immediate reaction—the violent contraction of his throat muscles as he fought not to vomit, the tears streaming from his reddened eyes, the silent plea forming on his lips. The sight pushed her closer to the edge, her fingers working frantically between her legs as she watched his genuine suffering with unrestrained pleasure.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Kendall exclaimed, her face flushing bright red with embarrassment. "That wasn't supposed to—I mean, I wasn't acting just then." She looked mortified, unaware that beneath her, Raj was experiencing a horror beyond anything he could have imagined when he'd arrived for this audition. "Should we start over? I can try to hold it in better."

"Absolutely not," Melanie insisted, her voice thick with barely concealed excitement. "That was perfect—exactly the kind of raw, unfiltered emotion we're looking for. In fact..." She paused, pretending to consider something important. "I think we should lean into this. The character is mortified but also somewhat relieved when she finally lets go, right? So let's explore that duality. What if she's embarrassed but also can't stop it from happening again? How would she handle that emotional conflict?"

Brittany Slater's eyes remained fixed on the monitor in her office, her pupils dilated with sadistic pleasure as she watched Raj's body convulse beneath Kendall's substantial backside. His silent sobbing between violent gags sent electric pulses of arousal through her core as she worked her fingers deeper inside herself, her other hand gripping the edge of her desk. The way his eyes stared directly into the camera—pleading, desperate, broken—was better than any pornography she'd ever consumed.

"Look at you," she whispered to the screen, her hips bucking against her hand. "Breathing in every bit of that fat girl's egg salad farts. This is all you're good for." Her breathing grew more ragged as she increased her pace, her expensive office chair creaking beneath her writhing body. "You'll never work in this town anyway... might as well be useful as our little toilet."

In the audition room, Melanie's eyes darted between her monitor and Kendall's increasingly uncomfortable form perched above Raj's prison. The sadistic smile that spread across her face mirrored her boss's expression perfectly as she called out, "Action!" Her voice carried an undercurrent of excitement that Kendall, in her nervous state, completely missed.

"I'm so sorry about that," Kendall began, slipping into character with surprising ease. Her face flushed with genuine embarrassment that translated perfectly to the scene. "It's just that—oh god—" She clutched her stomach, the discomfort in her expression entirely real as another bubble of gas worked its way through her intestines. "I've been holding this in all evening, and I just can't anymore." Her southern accent thickened with distress as she shifted her weight, grinding her ass more firmly against the mesh opening—directly into Raj's face.

"That's perfect, Kendall!" Melanie encouraged, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Now remember, your character is mortified but also experiencing relief. Show us that conflict!"

Beneath Kendall, Raj's hell continued to intensify. The egg salad working through her system produced a uniquely foul odor—sulfuric and putrid, with undertones of mayonnaise gone rancid. Each time she shifted her weight, her leggings stretched tighter across her ass, releasing new waves of her unwashed scent directly into his face. His silent sobs were punctuated by heaving gags that threatened to empty his stomach, tears streaming down his reddened face as he alternated between breathing through his nose and mouth, finding no relief either way.

"I just—I can't help it," Kendall continued, her body tensing visibly as another gas bubble reached its inevitable destination. "Oh god, it's happening again—" Her words dissolved into a genuine groan of discomfort as her bowels released another noxious blast—this one longer and wetter than the first, a bubbling, squelching sound that echoed horrifically in Raj's tiny prison. The fart seemed endless, a sustained release that vibrated against the mesh and directly into his face. "I'm so embarrassed," she whimpered, her acting and reality blending seamlessly as she felt the hot gas escape her body. "But it feels so good to finally let go..."

In her office, Brittany's back arched off her chair as she approached climax, her eyes never leaving the monitor where Raj's suffering played out. "That's it," she gasped, her fingers working furiously between her legs. "Breathe it all in, you pathetic little shit. This is the closest you'll ever get to a real actress." Her body tensed as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her cruel smile never faltering as she watched tears stream down Raj's face. This was better than any callback she'd ever conducted—his genuine suffering was the purest form of entertainment she could imagine.

Melanie's face glowed with sadistic satisfaction as she watched Kendall finish her performance, the southern woman's face flushed with embarrassment and relief as her body continued to expel the remnants of her egg salad lunch directly into Raj's confined space. The monitor showed his face contorted in absolute agony, tears streaming down his cheeks as he silently begged for mercy.

"That was absolutely brilliant, Kendall!" Melanie exclaimed, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "The raw vulnerability you showed—that's exactly what we're looking for. The way you balanced embarrassment with relief was just..." She kissed her fingertips dramatically. "Chef's kiss! Brittany is going to love the footage."

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" Kendall replied, carefully lifting herself off the box, unaware of the suffering man beneath her. A final, trailing fart escaped as she stood, sending one last blast of putrid egg salad gas directly into Raj's face. "I'm so sorry about the, um, authenticity."

"Don't apologize—it made the scene! We'll be in touch within the week," Melanie assured her, ushering the actress toward the door. "Our casting assistant will show you out." As soon as the door closed behind Kendall, Melanie's professional smile transformed into a cruel smirk as she sauntered back to the box. She knelt down beside it, peering through a small side vent to see Raj's tear-streaked face.

"How's our little star doing in there?" she asked with mock concern, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

"Please..." Raj whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible after nearly an hour of silent gagging and retching. "I need a break... I can't breathe... the smell..." His words dissolved into a weak cough, his lungs still burning from Kendall's sulfuric emissions.

"Oh, but you're doing so well!" Melanie cooed, pulling out her phone to check a new message from Brittany. A wicked grin spread across her face as she read it. "We have about fifteen minutes before the next actress arrives. Perfect time for a little break—for me, that is."

Without warning, Melanie hoisted herself onto the box, positioning her substantial backside directly over the mesh opening where Raj's face lay just inches below. Her tight pencil skirt rode up slightly as she settled her weight, the thin fabric of her pantyhose doing nothing to contain her own personal aroma—a mixture of day-old sweat and the lingering scent of the bean burrito she'd had for breakfast.

"No, please don't—" Raj's desperate plea was cut short as Melanie's full weight pressed down, her ass creating a near-perfect seal over the mesh opening.

"Shhh, I'm trying to text your future employer," Melanie chided, wiggling her hips to get comfortable, grinding her ass against the mesh in the process. Her stomach gurgled ominously—a sound that Raj could hear all too clearly from his position directly beneath her. "Oops, sounds like that burrito is making its presence known. Hope you don't mind if I get comfortable. After all, I've been standing all morning while you've just been lying there."

Her fingers tapped rapidly on her phone screen as she texted Brittany: "Sitting on him now. Burrito from Miguel's is about to make a guest appearance. You might want to turn up the volume." Below her, Raj's whimpers grew more desperate as her stomach rumbled again, louder this time, the vibrations traveling through her body and into the box where he lay trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of yet another woman's digestive system.

Melanie's phone buzzed with Brittany's response—a laughing emoji followed by a devil emoji that perfectly captured her boss's sadistic delight. A cruel smile spread across Melanie's face as she shifted her substantial weight directly over the mesh opening, grinding her ass down harder against it to ensure Raj could hear every word.

"Oh, Raj," she called down in a sing-song voice, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "Brittany just texted. She says she's sooooo sorry she couldn't be here to witness your performance in person. She's absolutely devastated to miss such raw talent."

Below her, Raj's voice came out as a broken, desperate whisper, each word a struggle after nearly an hour of breathing in toxic fumes. "Melanie please...don't, I don't think I can—"

His plea was violently interrupted as Melanie's body tensed, her stomach muscles contracting as she released a thunderous fart directly into the mesh. The sound reverberated through the small box—a wet, bubbling blast that seemed to go on for several seconds. The noxious cloud of her breakfast burrito—eggs, refried beans, chorizo, and hot sauce—flooded Raj's confined space instantly, an unholy mixture that clung to the inside of his nostrils and coated his tongue.

"Oh my! Excuse me for cutting you off," Melanie giggled, not sounding sorry in the slightest as she felt the hot gas escape through her pantyhose directly into Raj's face. "What were you trying to say? Please, do continue." She wiggled her hips, grinding her ass more firmly against the mesh as she texted Brittany: "Just crop-dusted our little actor. You should hear the gagging sounds he's making."

Beneath her, Raj's body convulsed violently, his involuntary retching so powerful that the entire box shook. His gagging was audible now, wet and desperate as his body fought against the putrid stench invading his lungs. His hands slapped weakly against the sides of the box, his body jerking and twitching as he tried and failed to form coherent words between heaves.

"What's that? I can't quite hear you," Melanie taunted, her stomach gurgling ominously again. Feeling particularly cruel after reading Brittany's enthusiastic response, she bore down slightly, focusing her muscles before releasing another fart—this one longer and somehow even fouler than the first. The hot, sulfuric gas hissed through the mesh directly into Raj's face, carrying particles of her digestive process right into his airways. "Oopsie! There goes another one. This burrito is really doing a number on me today."

In her office, Brittany's breathing had become ragged and uneven, her fingers working frantically between her legs as she watched Raj's torture session unfold on her monitor. The sight of his body convulsing beneath Melanie's substantial backside, his face contorted in genuine agony as he was forced to inhale her assistant's toxic emissions, pushed her over the edge. Her back arched violently off her chair, her free hand gripping the edge of her desk with white knuckles as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

"Oh fuck, yes!" she moaned, her voice echoing off the walls of her office, loud enough that her secretary outside surely heard. But Brittany was beyond caring, her body shuddering through an intense climax as she watched Raj's eyes roll back in his head, his body giving one final violent jerk before going completely still. When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she noticed with mild concern that Raj had stopped moving entirely. With trembling fingers, she typed out a message to Melanie: "I think you killed him lol"

Melanie's eyes widened as she read the text, her body suddenly freezing mid-wiggle on top of the box. "Really?! How could I have..." she typed back frantically, genuine panic flashing across her face as she glanced down at the now-silent box beneath her.

Brittany's response came quickly: "Just relax, I'm sure he's just passed out. Just finish the auditions with him in there."

Relief washed over Melanie's features as she quickly hoisted herself off the box, smoothing down her skirt as she moved to the side. She located the magnetic lock release and popped open the lid, immediately recoiling as a concentrated wave of stench hit her full in the face—a noxious mixture of Silvia's spicy curry farts, Kendall's egg salad farts, and her own burrito emissions, as well as the sour smell of Raj's stress sweat and bile.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed, covering her nose with her sleeve as she peered inside. Raj lay motionless, his face pale and slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling in shallow, irregular breaths. His eyes were closed, his features slack in unconsciousness—a small mercy after what he'd endured. "Well, at least he's still breathing."

The audition room lay in shadows, the day's harsh fluorescent lights now dimmed to a soft glow that barely illuminated the corners. Raj's eyes fluttered open, his consciousness returning gradually as he took in his surroundings. The box—that terrible prison—was still there, its lid propped open, but the stench remained, as if the wood itself had absorbed hours of flatulent torture. His head pounded with a dull ache, his throat raw from gagging and his lungs still burning from the noxious gases he'd been forced to inhale.

With trembling arms, Raj pushed himself upright, his muscles protesting after hours of confinement. The room appeared empty, abandoned for the evening, with only the silent furniture bearing witness to his humiliation. As he staggered toward the door on unsteady legs, desperate for fresh air and escape, a soft click of a door opening behind him froze him in place.

Hey Raj, just one moment, came Brittany's voice, softer than he remembered from earlier. She stood in the doorway to her private office, transformed from yesterday's business attire into comfortable yoga pants and a fitted t-shirt that hugged her curves. Her hair was down now, cascading over her shoulders in loose waves, giving her a more approachable appearance than the stern casting director from earlier.

Brittany approached him with a gentle smile, her eyes showing what appeared to be genuine concern as she took in his disheveled state. I just wanted to check on you before you left. You were out for quite a while there—gave us a bit of a scare, actually. She maintained a respectful distance, seemingly aware of how fragile he might be feeling. More importantly, I wanted to tell you that you did fantastically today. The level of emotional authenticity you showed was... well, it was exactly what we've been looking for.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, quickly checking something before returning her attention to Raj. Look, I know today was intense. Probably more intense than you expected when you walked in here this morning. But that's exactly why I'd like to offer you something substantial. Her voice took on a warmer, almost conspiratorial tone. I have a project that needs someone with your exact... qualities. One day of shooting, $5,000 payment. Cash, immediate. No waiting for checks to clear or agents to take their cut.

Brittany's expression softened further, a hint of what appeared to be sincerity breaking through her professional veneer. I understand if you need time to think about it. What you went through today wasn't easy, and I respect that. But I also recognize talent when I see it, Raj. And you have something special—something raw and genuine that can't be taught. She pulled a business card from her yoga pants pocket and held it out to him, her fingers brushing against his as he took it. The shoot is this weekend. Just think about it, okay? This could be a real opportunity for you.

Raj takes the card and turns it over between his fingers. Thick stock. Clean edges. It lists only a company name, Still Air Studio, and a phone number. No address. No title. No explanation.

Five thousand dollars.

The number echoes in his head. That was two months of rent, easily. Rent plus groceries. Rent plus breathing room. His shoulders loosen despite himself. He looks back up at Brittany and manages a small, cautious smile.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll think about it.”

His voice betrays him, trembling slightly, as if his body remembers something his mind is trying hard to file away. Whatever fear had passed, it hadn’t gone far. It lingered, coiled deep, waiting.

Later, sitting in his car, Raj stares at the card again. It’s illuminated by the yellow wash of a nearby streetlight. A parking ticket flutters under his windshield wiper, the result of staying too long in a two-hour metered spot, but he doesn’t notice. His attention is fixed on the name. Still Air Studio.

He tries to imagine what kind of job would come after what Brittany had put him through. The memory makes his stomach tighten. And yet, her praise had sounded sincere. Warm. Professional. Maybe that was just how the industry worked at higher levels. Maybe it had been a stress test. A hazing ritual. Something meant to see if he could handle intensity, if he could play with the big dogs.

---

The following Saturday, Raj finds himself on set at Still Air Studio in Van Nuys. From the moment he arrives, everything feels different. He’s ushered into a private dressing room. A production assistant introduces herself and tells him to let her know if he needs anything at all. Coffee. Snacks. A charger. Anything.

He asks about the script.

The PA smiles, unfazed. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s all improvised. You’ll do great.”

The words land oddly, but before he can ask anything else, she’s already stepping away. Thirty minutes later, another PA comes to escort him to set.

The room is dressed as a suburban living room. Neutral walls. Family photos. A couch centered perfectly on the rug.

Then Raj sees it.

An oval-shaped cutout has been carved into the center cushion of the couch.

His heart drops.

Before he can speak, before he can even fully process what he’s seeing, two PAs move in on either side of him. Hands grip his wrists, his ankles. Rope slides tight around his skin.

“No, wait,” Raj stammers. “I don’t know—”

"Save it for the scene," the director barked, her voice carrying the unmistakable authority. She was a tall woman with a severe bob haircut and thick-rimmed glasses who introduced herself simply as Diane. She stood behind the camera in her form-fitting yoga pants and tight t-shirt, hair pulled back in a severe ponytail that emphasized her sharp cheekbones. "That five grand isn't for asking questions—it's for keeping your mouth shut and your nostrils open."

The two production assistants continued securing Raj's wrists behind his back, the rope tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cut circulation. After binding his ankles, they maneuvered him toward the suburban living room set where the modified couch waited with its ominous oval cutout in the center cushion. The set was meticulously designed to look like an upper-middle-class home, complete with family photos on the walls—all featuring the same blonde woman who was currently getting her makeup touched up in the corner.

"Position him properly," Diane instructed, approaching the couch to inspect the setup. "I want his nose and mouth perfectly centered in the opening. This isn't just porn—it's art." She ran her fingers along the edge of the cutout, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Our viewers pay premium prices to see genuine reactions, not acting."

The PAs guided Raj to the floor beneath the couch, positioning his head so it aligned with the cutout. When they removed the center cushion, his face was framed by the oval opening, exposed and vulnerable while the rest of his body remained hidden beneath the furniture. One PA checked the restraints one final time before giving Diane a thumbs-up.

"Perfect," Diane purred, crouching down to meet Raj's eyes through the opening. "Let me explain what we're shooting today, since you seem so confused." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "This is for our 'Domestic Domination' series. You're playing a stepson who's been caught snooping through his stepmother's underwear drawer. As punishment, she's turned you into her personal fart cushion for the day." She tapped his nose playfully. "The ropes are just to make it authentic—our audience loves the struggle."

Standing up, Diane called out to the blonde woman in the corner. "Veronica! We're ready for you, darling." The woman—tall, voluptuous, and dressed in an expensive-looking silk robe—sauntered over, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the set. Veronica was in her mid-forties but looked younger, with the kind of surgically enhanced features that were common in the industry.

"Is my little cushion ready?" Veronica asked, her voice dripping with false maternal concern as she peered down at Raj's face in the cutout. "He looks terrified. Perfect for the opening shot." She turned to Diane. "I had extra beans with breakfast, just like you suggested. And those lactose pills you gave me? I took them with a large milkshake about an hour ago."

"Excellent preparation," Diane nodded approvingly, then addressed the crew. "Lights, camera positions—let's make sure we capture every twitch, every gag, every desperate attempt to breathe." She moved behind the main camera, checking the frame. "Remember, Raj, this is improv. Just react naturally to whatever Veronica does. That's what makes Still Air Studio productions so special—the authenticity."

Veronica untied her silk robe, revealing a lacy negligee underneath. She handed the robe to a waiting PA and positioned herself on the couch, carefully arranging herself so she was sitting directly over the cutout where Raj's face was visible. The weight of her body pressing down on the couch frame left him with even less room to move his head.

"Action!" Diane called, her eyes gleaming with the same sadistic pleasure Raj had witnessed during his audition. Veronica immediately slipped into character, her voice transforming into a stern maternal tone.

"This is what happens to naughty boys who don't respect boundaries," Veronica declared loudly, shifting her weight to press her silk-covered backside closer to Raj's face. "You're going to learn your lesson today, one fart at a time." She glanced over her shoulder, making eye contact with the camera. "And mommy had a lot of dairy today, so this is going to be a very thorough punishment."

Raj starts sobbing almost immediately as he pleads, "No...please don't, I'm sorry...I..." Veronica joyfully lifts her robe and sits down before Raj can say any more. her weight settling firmly as his protests were silenced by the warm, fleshy prison. His muffled sobs vibrated against her skin, causing her to shiver with delight as she adjusted her position to ensure his nose and mouth were perfectly aligned with her exposed crack. The pungent, musky odor emanating from between her cheeks immediately assaulted his senses – a preview of the torment to come.

"Remember to get a tight shot of his eyes when she releases the first one," Diane instructed the cameraman, her voice husky with excitement. She leaned forward in her director's chair, completely focused on the unfolding scene. "Veronica, honey, make sure you describe what you're feeling for the audio. Our subscribers love the narrative."

Veronica nodded, settling her full weight more firmly onto Raj's face. Her stomach gurgled audibly, the sound carrying across the set as she placed a manicured hand on her abdomen. "Oh my, I can feel it coming," she announced in her character's stern maternal voice. "Mommy's tummy is so full of gas, and you're going to take every bit of it." She wiggled her hips, grinding Raj's face deeper between her cheeks as his muffled cries grew more desperate. "The first one's always the sweetest, don't you think?"

"Give him the full experience, Veronica." Remember, he's being paid well for his... services. She watched as Veronica's body tensed slightly, preparing to deliver the first assault on Raj's senses. The cameraman moved in closer, focusing on the small portion of Raj's face visible between the actress's flesh – his eyes wide with terror and brimming with tears.

A thunderous, wet explosion erupted from between Veronica's cheeks, the force of her flatulence actually lifting her slightly off Raj's face before slamming back down. The sound reverberated across the set—a deep, rumbling BRRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPT that lasted nearly five full seconds. The cameraman zoomed in on Raj's visible eyes as they bulged in horror, capturing the exact moment the putrid stench reached his nostrils. His pupils dilated and tears immediately welled up, streaming down his temples as he tried futilely to turn his head away from the noxious cloud trapped between Veronica's flesh and his face.

"Ooooh my," Veronica cooed, her voice dripping with false maternal concern while her eyes sparkled with genuine malice. "Did mommy's tummy make a big noise? I think someone's getting exactly what he deserves." She wiggled her hips, grinding her backside against Raj's face to ensure he couldn't escape the concentrated cloud of her flatulence. The movement caused another smaller, squeakier fart to escape—PFFFT—directly into his left nostril. "Mmm, that bean burrito from Dell Bell is really working its magic. Can you taste it, sweetie? That's what happens when you're a little pervert."

Diane leaned forward in her director's chair, "Perfect, Veronica," she called out, her voice slightly strained. "Now tell him how much more is coming. Make him anticipate it." She gestured to the sound technician. "Make sure you're capturing his sobs clearly."

Veronica shifted her weight again, leaning heavily on one cheek to press Raj's face deeper into the couch while exposing his other nostril to the fresh wave of stench that wafted up from between her legs. His muffled sobbing intensified, the sound of his agony music to both women's ears. "Oh, sweetie," Veronica continued, patting her stomach as it gurgled ominously, "mommy's tummy is still so full. That was just the appetizer. I can feel a big one brewing right now. And this naughty boy is going to take every bit of it, aren't you?" She bounced slightly on Raj's face, eliciting another muffled cry of distress.

---

The soft blue glow of the monitor illuminated Brittany Slater's face as she reclined in her plush leather armchair, her silk robe fallen open to reveal her naked body beneath. Her bedroom was her sanctuary—a place where she could indulge in her darkest pleasures without judgment. On the screen of her laptop, the latest release from Still Air Studio played in high definition, featuring the actor she'd personally recruited through her audition process. Veronica's manicured hands spread her ample cheeks apart on screen, exposing Raj's contorted face for a brief, horrifying moment before she unleashed a putrid blast directly into his nostrils.

BRRRAAAAPPPPFFFTTT! The sound from her premium headphones was so crisp that Brittany could almost smell it herself. On screen, Raj's entire body convulsed, his eyes rolling back as the concentrated gas assaulted his senses. Veronica's laughter—cruel and delighted—followed as she slammed her ass back down onto his face, muffling his desperate pleas. Brittany's fingers worked furiously between her legs, her pussy already slick with arousal from the first twenty minutes of the video.

"That's right, you pathetic little nobody," Brittany moaned, circling her clit with practiced precision as she watched Raj's humiliation play out. "I knew you'd be perfect for this role." Her breathing grew more ragged as she approached climax, her free hand reaching up to pinch her nipple hard enough to leave marks. She'd paid the premium subscription fee for early access to the video, worth every penny to see the fruits of her recruitment efforts. "God, Diane really knows how to direct these scenes," she gasped, her hips bucking against her hand. "And to think you thought this was your big break into legitimate acting."

On screen, Veronica was now bouncing rhythmically on Raj's face, each impact forcing what little air remained from his lungs as she continued her character's verbal assault. "This is what happens to naughty boys," she cooed, looking directly into the camera with a wink that made Brittany's clit throb beneath her fingers. The camera angle switched to a side view, capturing both Veronica's ecstatic expression and the small portion of Raj's face visible beneath her, his eyes wide with terror and streaming tears as another rumbling fart distorted her flesh against his features.

Brittany moans euphorically as she climaxed violently, her eyes never leaving the screen where Raj's dignity was being systematically destroyed for her entertainment. "Fuck! Yes! Suffer for me!" she cried out, her body shuddering as Veronica delivered another massive fart directly into Raj's unwilling face, the camera capturing his absolute despair in perfect 4K resolution.