Facing the Fury of a Farting Brazilian Goddess
Rachel Fisher, a stunningly beautiful Brazilian mulatta, was in a foul mood. She'd spent the entire day trying to find the perfect outfit for a night out on the town, only to be disappointed by her extensive wardrobe. Frustrated and irritated, she stomped into her bedroom, searching for her mini slave.
She found him cowering beneath her bed, trembling with fear. Rachel smirked cruelly and pointed at him, her accent thick with disdain. "You," she spat, "I want you to come out here."
The little man slowly emerged from his hiding place, his eyes locked on the floor, his head bowed in submission. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, her ample breasts straining against her tight shirt, and glared down at him. "I'm feeling kind of stinky today," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "And I think you're just the thing to fix that."
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the trembling man by the scruff of his neck and dragged him over to her bed. She sat down heavily, her legs spread wide, and pulled him between her thighs. "Sniff me," she commanded, shoving his face into her crotch.
The mini slave took a hesitant whiff, then recoiled in horror as the foul odor assaulted his senses. Rachel laughed cruelly and slapped him hard across the face. "Don't pretend you don't like it," she growled. "You're here to please me, remember?"
She grabbed his head forcefully and pushed it back into her crotch, holding it there as she leaned back on her hands, her ample breasts dangling tantalizingly close to his face. The slave tried desperately to avoid inhaling the putrid stench, but Rachel was relentless. She kept him right where she wanted him, his nose buried deep in the warm, damp folds of her crotch.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she sat up straight and let out a long, loud fart directly into his face. The stench was overwhelming, and the slave gagged violently, trying to get away from the noxious cloud of gas. Rachel laughed heartily, her long, curly hair bouncing around her face. "That's what I'm talking about," she said, her eyes alight with satisfaction.
She reached down and grabbed the slave's head, pulling him up close to her face so he could see the pleasure writ large on it. Then, with a cruel laugh, she shoved him off her bed and onto the floor, where he landed in a heap. "You're dismissed, slave," she said contemptuously. "I'll be sure to summon you when I need your services again."
The mini slave scrambled to his feet and fled the room, leaving Rachel to bask in the afterglow of her humiliating victory. As he fled down the hall, he could still feel the putrid stench clinging to his clothes, a bitter reminder of the fury of the Brazilian goddess he had just faced.
