Fart-Sniffing Feminist

Amanda pulled shut the door of the crammed, tiny office used by the campus Gender Equality and Activism club, and locked it. She turned — then jumped, nearly dropping her keys.

Mark was standing there, just a little too close, right inside her personal space. "Oh, sorry," he said, smiling apologetically, although not backing up.

Amanda sidled around her ex-boyfriend. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, listen," he said. "I know you're still mad at me..."

She started striding toward the decades-old elevator, forcing him to jog along to keep up. "I'm not mad," she said.

He looked pained. "OK. Well, I know you don't consider me a friend."

Amanda stopped, swiveled, and met his gaze. "I don't consider you a trustworthy person. And I'm not friends with people who aren't trustworthy."

He sighed and stared at his toes sheepishly. "OK, well, fine. I wasn't trustworthy." He looked back up and directly into her eyes. "I was awful, and I can't change what I did. But I've actually been working on something that I think will change your feelings about me."

The pretty twenty-one-year-old half-rolled her eyes and turned to head toward the exit. "Mark, I'm supposed to be somewhere, but I'm excited to hear that you're working on something you think I would like, and I hope it comes together for you. I'd love to hear about it if you want to send me an email."

He put out a hand. "Wait, no. I just...I'd love it if you came to see it."

She recoiled, visibly. "At your frat house?"

Mark nodded. "Some of the guys are involved with it, too." When her horrified look didn't fade, he added, "I think you'll really like it."

"Mark," she said. "I never want to go back there again. The last time I was there, three of your friends just about raped me, while you watched and took video with your phone."

He sighed again, this time looking consternated. "Baby, that's a pretty big exaggeration..."

Amanda's eyes got big and her mouth fell open. "Don't call me baby."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Mark said. "I just mean — the guys felt you up a little bit, and you rubbed Ollie's dick through his jeans. We didn't try to stop you from leaving after you got upset."

"He took my hand and rubbed it on his dick, you mean," Amanda shot back. A passing couple glanced back at her outburst. "And I shouldn't have been in there in the first place."

"You weren't that drunk," Mark said. "And I thought you knew what was up. You said you had a lot of fantasies about groups of men..." He lowered his voice. "...using you."

"I have fantasies, Mark!" she said. "And if we ever explored those fantasies, I'd want to talk it over first. A lot. Not just have a bunch of your buddies start groping me in your bedroom at a party with tons of people outside."

"That was dumb," he conceded. "I guess I just thought that since, like, you had those fantasies about lots of people watching you, or being a porn star, or having sex in a really public place — I thought you'd like it."

She couldn't believe he really thought that. How dumb were men? "No," she said. "I would have to feel very, very comfortable and OK before I actually acted on any of those fantasies."

His face brightened. "Well, listen — I don't expect you to act on any of those fantasies with me, but I think you would feel really good if you came over and saw this thing I've been working on."

Amanda couldn't believe he wouldn't drop it. "I don't really want to go to your room where I was sexually assaulted and see a mysterious thing that will make me feel good."

Mark nodded. "I know. But it's not really a thing I can show you anywhere else, and I don't want to tell you any details because I want it to be a total surprise. Plus, you literally wouldn't believe it. And I'm serious when I say that you are going to like it so much."

Amanda couldn't believe she was really considering it. Mark was full of shit sometimes, but she didn't think he'd just lie about something. She didn't believe he would actually hurt her somehow. He hadn't, after all, forced her to do anything or even stay at the party after the incident with his friends. She hadn't even broken up with him after that; she'd just stopped going over there. Which, of course, was what had made it so easy for him to cheat on her with a long string of women, claiming the whole time that he just didn't want to come over to her place because he was studying with his fraternity brothers. When she'd finally found out, she'd dumped him immediately. She was already taking plenty of flak from her friends at gender club about dating such an obvious sexist. Mark wasn't worth it.

It sucked, though. He was almost worth it. He was a super good fuck.

"And," he said — he knew he had her attention now — "I think it can have a real impact on your gender club friends, too."

OK, now Amanda had to see it. "Really?" she said, skeptically.

"They will really like it too." Mark looked so earnest.

"Feminists will like it?" She couldn't believe she was going to do this.

He nodded again. "Pretty much everyone will like it," he said.

Amanda pursed her lips and nodded herself. "Well, then, Mark: I have to go talk to a girl who was sexually assaulted, possibly by a guy you know, and see if I can help her. And I should be done with that around eight, and then I will come over to your house, with the understanding that I'm just going to check out this mysterious 'thing' and then go home."

"For sure," Mark agreed. "I will not make you stay any longer than you want to — I think I've demonstrated that."

Amanda shrugged, gave him a wave, and exited the building.

***

"Thank you so much for coming," Mark said as he led her upstairs that evening. "I'm really excited for this."

"I can't wait to see what this is," she replied.

He turned and smiled at her. "It's...it's not something you exactly see."

Amanda could feel her confusion register on her face, and was annoyed at how he looked pleased with himself. "Just show me," she said, waving him onward.

His room was empty of anyone else. Mark let her in and then shut and locked the deadbolt. Amanda was on the verge of protesting — but she stopped herself. No reason to make him think she was worried. She'd just have to listen to more pointless apologies and rationalizations.

"OK, so sit down," he said, directing her to his desk chair. She sat. He grabbed a stool from the other side of the room and set it next to the chair, stepping on to it with the apparent goal of getting something from atop his bookshelf.

His ass was immediately in front of Amanda's face. She had to admit it was cute, especially in those tight jeans, but she backed away as it bumped against her nose. "Hey!" she said. "Get what you're getting and get your ass out of my face!"

Mark laughed, instead pushing his butt deliberately toward her nose again. What the actual fuck? Amanda thought. She tried to slide the chair back.

Not fucking funny, Mark. She thought he was joking.

She didn't know what to think a moment later, when a loud, powerful fart ripped out of Mark's ass.

"Augghh!" She jumped back, but the treads on the chair prevented her from sliding away; nor did she tip over. The scent hit her square in the face. Pungent, a little fruity, a little meaty, a little like nothing she could place — and a lot like garbage. A terrible, massive heap of garbage, some parts of it burning. The smell enveloped her like a thick fog, raced up her nostrils, and pooled in her throat and mouth, triggering instant reactions in the most primitive parts of her brain.

It was god-awful. She would never be clean again. She would never forgive Mark. She was going to gag...she was...she...she was...she...

Amanda took another sharp inhale. She felt the fart hovering around her like a miasma, and was glad. Glad? Part of her brain felt funny. Loose...loose.

Her nostrils flared. The fart was finally starting to fade. One more great big inhalation, one more attempt to capture a little more of that, to keep it, to know it, that...

"Amanda?" Mark said, stepping down from the stool. He was still smiling. "Amanda, you look like you're really enjoying that fart."

She nodded, eyes unfocused, a dreamy smile on her lips. She could taste it on her tongue. She wanted more. "Why do your farts smell so good?"

"Well, Amanda," he said, "you just need to know that they are perfect farts. And they bring you complete happiness."

"They do," she said. Her eyes darted up urgently. "Can I have another?"

Mark laughed. "You want to sniff another of my farts, Amanda?"

She nodded fiercely.

He shook his head in amusement. "That's so funny. Did you ever even know you were such a fart freak?"

Amanda hadn't known that. Five minutes ago, she would have been disgusted by this scenario. But none of that mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except more of Mark's farts.

She shook her head. The good feeling was starting to ebb, replaced with pressing desire.

"I guess it just must be that I'm so amazing," Mark continued. "I'm so great that even my farts are like a treasure to you."

Yes, yes. Amanda nodded harder. "They are," she said. "Your farts are perfect, and you're amazing, Mark."

Wait. What the hell was she saying? Through the clouds in her mind, she knew this wasn't right. She was a smart, strong, sexually healthy woman. She didn't have a fart fetish. And she would never ask a man — but especially not this man — to bless her with...

To bless her?

The residue of the stench — that wet trashy flavor still in the back of her mouth — prodded something animal in her brain. OH GODDDDDD. That smell. Perfect awful smell.

"I want another of your perfect farts, please," she whined.

Less than a minute later, she was on her knees in front of the chair, where Mark was now seated. His pants and underwear were down around his ankles, and he was scooched forward in the seat.

With one hand, Amanda held Mark's hard cock up out of the way, allowing her to press her nose directly against his sweet, wonderful asshole. She had never had much of an interest in getting intimate with men's anal regions, but now she felt a desperate, needy warmth and gratitude for it. She was unbelievably grateful that it existed — the faint scent of his previous fart lingered in his dark, musky crevice.

"Get ready for the new most important thing in your world," Mark sneered.

He let the fart rip. It was so loud — anyone in the hall must have been able to hear it — and it lasted nearly fifteen seconds.

To Amanda, it felt like forever but couldn't last long enough. She sucked in the fart directly from Mark's hole, through both nose and mouth. It burned as it coursed through her airways and inflamed her lungs.

I'm not like this! The thought popped into her head. Have some respect for yourself! Stand up and get out of h—

The fart obliterated those traces of resistance remaining in her conscious mind. That stinky, stinky, nasty, dirty, bad man smell — she was thirsty for it, her body aching, nipples getting hard like bullets, her underwear drenched. She felt herself becoming an orgasm. That was the only way to put it. As the fart went to work on her beyond-stimulated brain, her clitoris and vagina seized up and pulsed in her wet little black panties, kicking off a wave of pleasure that rocketed outward and throughout her body. She wanted to hump something, even as she pressed her beautiful face deeper and deeper into Mark's seamy butt crack. She wanted to, but she didn't need to. The first orgasm overtook her, and she babbled like a mad idiot, her tongue dripping all over his hole, his thighs, his balls, as the countless ones that followed consumed her body totally, until she couldn't remember anything, not even her name, except for Mark, sweet Mark, who gave her his delicious, perfect farts.

Amanda lay on the floor for a long time, lost in a paradise where Mark violated her in all the ways she wanted, and thanked her for the privilege with a limitless supply of his farts. When she finally came out of her haze, he was standing over her with his phone in his hand, stroking his cock. Come dripped off the end of it.

She felt warm stickiness on her face and realized he had masturbated on her. She giggled. That meant she still turned him on. That meant he would probably let her sniff his farts.

"Am I your girlfriend again?" she asked dreamily.

His laughter was a short, contemptuous bark. "Amanda, I'm amazing," he said. "You said it yourself. Do you think I'm going to have a fart-sniffer for a girlfriend?"

Oh God. He was right, and she was suddenly scared that Mark would never share his farts with her again; at the same time, it was so hot to hear herself sized up like that, reduced to a pervert by her god, Mark. She had to play her cards cautiously.

"Maybe...it could just be, like, a friends-with-benefits thing," she suggested.

He looked thoughtful. "It would have to be," he said. "I need to have a lot of kinky sex, Amanda, and I can't just have it with you. I'm going to have to fuck a lot of girls. You didn't like that before. How do you feel about it now?"

She didn't hesitate. "You can fuck all the girls you want. I just...I just want to see you whenever I can."

He laughed. "You mean you just want to sniff my farts whenever you can." He was stroking his cock; it was getting hard again.

"Are you — are you going to let other girls smell your farts?" Amanda asked.

Another bark of laughter. "Of course I am, you dumb bitch. And you love that idea. Don't you want other women to enjoy the smell of my perfect farts? Wouldn't it make them happy? Don't you want women to be happy? What kind of feminist are you?"

OHHHHHH GODDDDDD. At Mark's words, another orgasm racked her body as she imagined numberless women losing themselves in Mark's perfect farts.

"What's more," he continued, stripping off the rest of his clothes, "you're not only going to sniff my farts yourself, you're going to help us turn other women into our freaky fart-slaves. Anyone we want, if you want your farts. Isn't that right?"

Amanda's body trembled on the floor with her latest orgasm. She felt a dollop of the sperm on her cheek drip into her mouth. Tearing frantically at her pants, she cried, "Yes! Yes! I just want lots of your farts!"

There was a knock on the door.

"Heh." Mark slid over and unlocked the deadbolt. He turned the knob and three of his frat brothers walked in, all naked, their cocks erect. The four men assembled themselves around Amanda's prone form and squatted — one on each side, his friend Ollie above her head, Mark directly in front of her. Their backs were turned to her. Their four asses surrounded Amanda's face.

"You're going to get plenty of farts, baby," her ex-boyfriend told her, chuckling. Hot gas squealed out of the four fraternity brothers' holes and Amanda gulped in deep, sweet breaths, pleasure overwhelming her whole sense of individual personality. She felt incredibly grateful that this was what she had become.