[The Rich Bitch Face Farts #2]
Ruby was a woman of immense wealth and power, but she harbored a secret kink that she only shared with her most trusted associates. Her fetish? Face farts. Yes, the woman who could have anyone she wanted wanted nothing more than to unleash her noxious farts onto the unsuspecting faces of her subordinates. And she had found the perfect candidate for the weekend: you.
The moment you stepped into her lavish mansion, you knew you were in for a treat. The scent of expensive perfume and freshly baked cookies filled the air, and the sound of classical music set the mood. Ms. Ruby was waiting for you in the living room, her eyes piercing through you as she took a sip of her martini.
"So, you're here," she said, her voice dripping with arrogance. "You're about to embark on the experience of a lifetime. For the next forty-eight hours, I want you to devote yourself entirely to me and my needs."
With that, she grabbed your hand and led you upstairs to her luxurious bedroom. The room was adorned with the finest silks and satins, and a large four-poster bed dominated the center. A mirrored dresser stood next to it, reflecting the light of a single chandelier above.
"Now," she purred, pressing you against the dresser, "get to work."
As her assistant, you knew what you had to do. You knelt down and positioned your face inches from her crotch. With a cruel smirk, she leaned forward, sandwiching your face between her plush lips. You closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
And then it hit you - a hot, putrid wave of rotten eggs and sulfur. You choked back the bile rising in your throat as Ms. Ruby's saliva dribbled down your chin.
But that was just the beginning. Over the course of the weekend, you found yourself in a never-ending cycle of face farts. Sometimes she'd have you kneeling on the floor, other times she'd have you bent over the balcony railing. Each time, her stench would assault your senses, making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.
As you lay on the bed, exhausted from your ordeal, Ms. Ruby sat at the vanity table, admiring her reflection. "You know," she said, puffing on a cigarette, "this has been quite a weekend. I don't know how I'll ever top it."
She glanced at you over her shoulder and smiled. "But then again, there's always next time."
And with that, she turned and blew a final face full of fumes in your direction before leaving the room, leaving you to contemplate your fate as her fart slave.
