Sitting on my slave's face while I answer my friend's call, completely ignoring his struggle as I let out one hot, stinky fart after another right in his face. I barely even acknowledge him, except for the occasional grind to keep him in place. He's just a cushion, a toy for my amusement. And the best part? My friend has no idea what's happening beneath me. Or maybe she does... and she wouldn't mind joining next time. Imagine that, two of us, one pathetic little fart sniffer. Now that would be fun.
As I finished the call, I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of my friend joining in on our little secret. I stood up, towering over my slave's frail figure, and pulled him up by his hair. He looked up at me with pleading eyes, his face etched with the familiar stench of shit and farts. "You're a good little toy, aren't you?" I purred, running my fingers through his greasy, sweaty locks.
I looked around, searching for something to amuse myself with. My eyes landed on a freshly baked pie sitting on the countertop. Perfect. I grabbed the platter and held it over my slave's face, blocking his view of the delicious dessert. "What do you think, honey?" I asked, giving him a sultry wink. "Want to try some?"
He squirmed under my gaze, his stomach churning with anticipation and fear. With a devilish grin, I slid the platter closer to his face, letting the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked apple pie fill the air. "Go on," I coaxed, my voice dripping with honey. "Take a whiff."
His eyes darted between the pie and me, unsure of what to do. But then, with a shaky exhale, he leaned forward, his nose practically touching the pie. I smiled to myself, enjoying the power I held over him. "That's it," I purred, my voice low and seductive. "Now close your eyes and take a big whiff."
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and took in the scent of the pie. Just as he did, I pulled the platter away and let out a long, loud fart right into his face. His eyes flew open, shocked at the sudden attack on his senses. "What did you do?" he stammered, his voice thick with disbelief and horror.
I chuckled softly, enjoying the look of sheer terror on his face. "Oh, don't worry," I reassured him, patting his cheek affectionately. "It's just a little something to keep you on your toes." I stepped away from him, grabbing a glass of lemonade from the fridge.
"Hey, Sylvia," I called out to my friend. "Guess what? I was thinking about you earlier." She chuckled on the other end of the line, her voice filled with curiosity. "Really?" she asked, amusement lacing her tone. "And what was that?"
I smirked, taking a sip of my lemonade. "I was thinking about how much fun it would be to have another person join in on our little games," I whispered into the phone, my voice low and seductive. "Three of us, all having a grand old time."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh my," she breathed finally, her voice full of excitement. "That sounds... intriguing."
I couldn't help but grin at the thought of the three of us, together, enjoying each other's company in the most twisted of ways. And as I hung up the phone, I looked over at my slave, still cowering in the corner, his face etched with fear and anticipation. Yes, this was going to be one hell of a ride. The power of three, indeed.
