Anal Attendant: A Tale of Obedience and Stench
Sylvia, the Queen of Farts, sat regally on her throne, her massive behind hovering above the fart seat that dared to call itself obedient. She eyed it with amusement, wondering how long it would take for the poor thing to break under the relentless onslaught of her farts.
"You don't speak, you don't move, you just exist as my obedient little seat," she mused, "my personal fart filter."
Her fingers danced across the remote control, and with a click, the latest fart video began to play on the large screen in front of her. It showed her ass in close-up, the cheeks spread wide, revealing her gaping anus. A hot, rancid wave of air hit the fart seat, causing it to quiver in anticipation of what was to come.
"Every nasty fart that escapes this ass goes straight to your face," Sylvia continued, "and you take it like the filthy thing you are."
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly playing with her overstuffed labia, watching as her farts engulfed the fart seat in a cloud of putrid stench. It was pathetic, really, how eager the thing was to please her. But then again, it was just a seat. No brain, no feelings... just a stupid piece of furniture.
"You're lucky I even use you," she chuckled, "and don't expect mercy. There's always more gas, and no fresh air."
As if to prove her point, she let out a monstrous fart, one of her signature H-bombs, that sent the fart seat reeling. It was a thing of beauty, the sheer force of it causing the seat to shudder and vibrate. Sylvia smiled, content for the moment, but she knew the game wouldn't last forever. The fart seat would break eventually, but until then, it was her willing slave, taking in all the stink and filth she could dish out.
