Preparing for the Big Night
As I strutted into my opulent living room, my heart racing with excitement for the New Year's Eve party I was about to host, I couldn't help but notice the delicious aroma that seemed to be clinging to me. I had been overindulging in food all week, and it had taken its toll on my digestive system. The thought of attending a party full of people made me feel nauseous.
I turned to my loyal servant, slave girl, who was kneeling obediently by my side. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, her face flushed with anticipation. She had been with me for years, enduring every humiliating task I had ever commanded of her. And tonight would be no different.
"Slave girl," I purred, running my hand down her silky hair, "I require your assistance in preparing for this evening. You know what that means." I smiled wickedly as I watched her eyes widen in understanding.
I had asked slave girl to come back and serve underneath my gorgeous gassy arse while I put on my nails for the party. It was a task she had performed countless times before, and she knew what was expected of her. Without hesitation, she crawled towards me, her face contorting as she struggled to contain her excitement.
I watched, amused, as she positioned herself beneath me, her delicate nose only inches away from my perfumed cleft. I lowered myself onto her face, feeling the softness of her skin against my buttocks. She moaned softly, her lips brushing against my silk panties.
"That's it, slave girl," I whispered, running my hands through her hair. "Take a deep breath and savor the scent of your mistress's ass." As I said these words, a warm, putrid wind escaped from my bowels, filling the room with its putrid aroma. Slave girl inhaled deeply, her lips parting in anticipation of what was to come.
And come it did. One after another, I released my stomach-churning farts onto her face and body, relishing in the sounds of her retching and the way her skin flushed with embarrassment. Each fart was more powerful than the last, each one more intoxicating than the wine I had been drinking.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally pulled away from her, my breath coming in heavy pants. Slave girl remained on the floor, her eyes glazed over in ecstasy, her cheeks hollow from all the gas she had breathed in.
I stood up, admiring myself in the mirror. My black leather dress hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating my voluptuous figure. Beneath it, my green thong stood out starkly against the black material, a reminder of the sordid acts we had just engaged in.
"Well done, slave girl," I said, reaching down to pat her head. "Now, go and prepare yourself for your next task."
As she crawled away, her body still trembling from the onslaught of farts, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Tonight was going to be a night to remember, and I couldn't wait to share it with all my guests. With a smirk on my face, I walked over to my vanity and picked up my phone, ready to send out the invitations.
I've been overindulging with food in the past week & it has caused some serious stomach upset! There's no way I could go to a party full of horrendous gas, so let's appreciate slave girl! I made her to sniff & taste every single potent fart that came from my perfect arse, which somehow I managed to squeeze into a leather dress I love. The sound of the leather rubbing across her face. I love the sound of the farts through it. And I love that leather traps the smell so slave girl can serve for even longer!
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