A Volcanic Emission from BBW Priscilla
As the camera panned across the dimly lit room, it captured the voluptuous figure of Priscilla. She was clad in a black lace corset that hugged her ample curves, accentuating her already massive frame. Her thighs were pressed together as she sat on a wooden box, seemingly lost in thought.
Priscilla's mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and stress as she awaited her turn to perform. Her belly was full of gas, and the pressure within her was building rapidly. She reached for her phone, scrolling through her contacts before dialing a familiar number.
"Hey, slave," she said into the phone, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you to come to the studio right away. I have a job for you." She paused, her eyes traveling down to her exposed midriff. "Bring some cleaning supplies too," she added with a smirk.
Soon, there was a knock on the dressing room door, and Priscilla's heartbeat quickened. She stood up from the box, adjusting her corset as she walked over to the door. Opening it slowly, she peeked out to see her awaiting submissive. His eyes widened upon seeing her, taking in her massive girth and the obvious bulge in her stomach caused by the gas bubbles.
"Hello, Mistress Priscilla," he said softly, kneeling before her. "I have brought the cleaning supplies as you requested." He held up a bucket of water and a mop, as well as a box of latex gloves.
Priscilla nodded, her stomach rumbling loudly. "Good boy," she said, motioning for him to enter the room. Closing the door behind him, she released a sigh of relief, knowing that she could finally let out the pent-up gas inside her.
"Alright, slave," she began, her voice deep and commanding. "I need you to help me relieve some pressure here." She motioned towards her distended belly, the skin stretched tight over her bulge. The slave could see the veins popping out on her belly as she spoke.
Kneeling before her, the slave took a deep breath. He knew what she wanted, but he also knew the intensity of her farts. He had been on the receiving end of her explosive releases before. Still, he could not disobey his Mistress.
Slowly, Priscilla pulled her skirt up, revealing her bare ass to him. She wiggled her hips, inviting him closer. The slave inched forward, carefully placing the mop and bucket to the side. As he knelt between her legs, he could feel the warmth emanating from her ass, the scent of her gas filling his nostrils.
"Now," she commanded, "I want you to do as I say. You're going to breathe in deeply, and then... you're going to take it." She lowered her ass, positioning herself over his face.
With a deep breath, the slave prepared himself for the onslaught of gas. The first burst was like a volcanic eruption, hitting him square in the face. He gagged, trying to resist the urge to vomit as her foul-smelling farts enveloped him.
Priscilla grunted and moaned above him, her body shaking with each release. The slave reached up, grabbing hold of her plump thighs, quivering under the force of her gas. He could feel the warm, putrid air seeping into his lungs, but he could not escape it.
Minutes passed, and the intensity of the gas seemed to subside. Priscilla slowly lowered herself back onto the wooden box, panting heavily. The slave, still kneeling before her, could feel his stomach churning from the sheer volume of gas he had inhaled.
"Good boy," Priscilla said softly, reaching down to pat his head. "You may stand up now."
The slave rose to his feet, gingerly stepping away from her. His nostrils stung from the overpowering stench of her gas, and he felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.
"Thank you, slave," Priscilla said, her voice more subdued now. "I feel so much better. You can take a break now."
As the slave left the room, he could still feel the warmth of her gas lingering on his skin. He knew that he would be sore for days after this encounter, but he also knew that he had fulfilled his duty as her slave. He was just grateful that it was over for now.
Priscilla watched from the dressing room as the slave exited, his head bowed in defeat. She smiled to herself, knowing that she had found a use for his submissive nature. She picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts once more.
"Hello, slave," she said, her voice echoing through the empty studio. "I think it's time we found you another job to do."
