Car Fart Sniffer: Face Farts, Ass Eating, and Rimming in Private
As I walked into my garage, I couldn't help but feel a wave of disgust wash over me. I had just spent hours on the road, and the last thing I wanted was to be greeted by the stench of my own ass. But I knew what I had to do. I called my loyal toilet slave over, ready to enact our usual routine.
"Come here, you disgusting piece of shit," I said, gesturing towards the Hyundai I had parked. "It's time for you to earn your keep."
The toilet slave, a pathetic excuse for a human being, eagerly approached me, his eyes filled with anticipation and hope. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't wait to be there for me.
I opened the car door and climbed in, taking a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. I hated when we had to do this, but it was necessary. I needed my ass cleaned, and he was the only one who could do it.
"Get in the car," I commanded, pointing towards the backseat. "And don't you dare breathe in here until I tell you it's safe."
The slave climbed into the car, his nose already curling at the scent of my ass. He knew better than to complain; he had been through this countless times before. As he lay down on his stomach, I could feel his hot breath on my asshole, anxious to please me.
"Now, don't be greedy," I warned him. "I only fart once for my slave, so make it count."
With that, I let out a monstrous fart, right into his waiting mouth. The slave gagged on the intensity of it, his eyes watering as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit. But he knew better than to disobey his mistress. He continued to sniff and lick my ass, cleaning up every last remnant of my fart.
As he worked, I couldn't help but marvel at the dedication of this pathetic creature. Here he was, willingly subjecting himself to my filth and disgust, all for the promise of a moment's pleasure. It was truly a testament to the power of human desire.
When he was finally done, I nodded in approval. "Good job, slave," I said, patting him on the back. "Now get out of my car before I change my mind."
The slave scurried out of the car, grateful to be away from the stench that had clung to him like a second skin. I watched him go, a satisfied smile on my face. It was a shame that such a beautiful car had to be used for such filthy purposes, but it was necessary for my sanity.
As I pulled out of the garage, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. My car was finally clean again, and I could breathe easy once more. It was just another day in the life of a Face Farts toilet slave, but hey, at least there was some variety.
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