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Farts - Blog Posts
This is what happens when I’m on art block 😭🤌
not dead or dying, just busy with school
LIFT
Jay said, his voice firm and steady, the way a coach’s should be. As a 40 year old gym coach, he had his habits when it came to training guys, helping them get to their physical fitness goals. He looked at the guy he was training as gritted his teeth and pulled the barbell up with a shaky breath.
“Lift.”
The weight came down again. Jay rolled his shoulders, watching closely, his own muscles twitching from habit.
“Lift.”
He blinked. Something felt off. He had said that word a million times, but this time, it echoed strangely in his head, stretching out—
“Liftttt—”
A rush of cold air hit him. His breath stuck into the black balaclava he was wearing. His gloved hands gripped a metal bar..
He was on a ski lift.
His body felt different—lean, light, skinny, a comfortable flex beneath sleek layers of ski gear. His boots rested on the bar, expensive and pristine. A helmet pressed snugly against his head.
And next to him sat someone else. Another guy, equally sleek, equally expensive-looking. His ski goggles reflected the bright winter sun, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
“You alright, bro?” the guy asked, his voice teasing, slow and hot. Seemingly young and teenage-ish. “You zoned out for a sec.”
Jay- or was it Jayden swallowed. The guy’s voice was familiar. This whole scene was familiar. He wasn’t just on any ski lift. He was on his ski lift.
Memories trickled in—winter trips, après-ski parties, Miami beaches, yachts, fast cars. He wasn’t a gym coach. He was…
A rich 20-year-old ski boy. Jayden.
And the guy next to him? Jayden knew him too. Knew his name. Knew the way his smirk turned into a breathless laugh when they were racing down the ski slopes.
Knew the way they flirted, although they weree supposed to be fully straight.
Jaydens lips parted, a cocky smirk forming on their own.
“Guess I was just distracted,” he said, his voice smooth, rich, young. “Probably by you.”
The guy chuckled, shifting closer.
“Good,” he murmured. “We got the whole lift ride to get even more distracted.”
He turned toward the guy next to him, the heat between them cutting through the crisp mountain air. The dude was hot—really hot. Not because he had a beautiful face (he did), but because he looked so handsome in his ski gear. You couldn’t even see his face behind his balaclava, helmet & ski mask. But Jayden remembered tons of nights with his bro, sucking it and taking it without any hesitation.
The guy’s gloved hand shifted, resting casually on Jayden’s thigh, just above his ski pants. Not quite subtle. Not quite innocent.
Jayden smirked. “Getting comfortable?”
The guy just grinned, his fingers pressing in slightly. “You looked cold.”
Jayden chuckled, shifting slightly so their knees bumped together. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you just wanna touch me?”
The other guy tilted his head, his ski goggles sliding down slightly. “Touch what? You’re barely packing anything”
Jayden’s stomach flipped. It was all coming back now—the way they teased each other, the way neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, especially on long ski lifts like this.
He let his own hand drift, sweaty gloved fingers brushing over the guy’s arm, then his chest, feeling the firm skinny body beneath the layers.
“Damn,” Jayden murmured, voice low. “Forgot how solid you are.”
The guy smirked. “Forgot how much you liked that.” His hand slid higher, fingers squeezing just a little.
Jayden rolled his eyes, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Shut up, Luca.”
Luca just grinned. His hand sliding lower and lower, cupping Jayden’s average sized dick beneath the ski gear layers. He moaned.
Jayden shifted, pressing himself closer against Luca, feeling the heat of his body even through their thick ski gear. His breath hitched as Luca’s hand slid lower, teasing over the waistband of his ski pants.
“Hey,” Jayden murmured, voice dropping into something softer, needier. “Pet me.”
Luca chuckled, fingers stilling just at the curve of Jayden’s rear. “Pet you where?” he asked, like he wanted to hear Jayden say it.
Jayden swallowed, face heating beneath his balaclava. He knew what Luca wanted, and he knew how much he loved teasing him for it. “You know where,” he muttered, shifting slightly. His small, tight rear barely filled out his ski pants, a firm little thing that didn’t bulge out at all, just hugged close to his frame like it belonged to a lean, sleek ski boy like him. He knew Luca liked it, liked how perky and snug it was.
Luca hummed, fingers finally pressing in, palming over the slight curve. “Damn,” he teased, voice rich with amusement. “Forgot how tiny this thing is. No wonder it takes so much work to feel you.”
Jayden groaned, half from embarrassment, half from the way Luca’s fingers kneaded him, spreading warmth through his layers. He pushed back slightly, encouraging. “Shut up,” he grumbled.
Luca just laughed, fingers pressing firmer, squeezing the small handful of Jayden’s rear through his ski pants. “Cute,” he murmured. “All tight and little.
Jayden’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted in that way it always did when Luca had him like this—flushed, flustered, teased into submission.
Luca’s grip on him tightened suddenly, fingers digging in just enough to make Jayden jolt. Then, his voice came, low and playful, right against Jayden’s ear.
“Do something for me,” he said
Jayden swallowed. “What?”
Luca’s hand on his ass flexed, warm and firm. “Fart on my hand.”
Jayden’s stomach twisted—not from disgust, but from something deeper, something hotter. The fact that Luca was actually asking for it, wanting it, made Jayden’s pulse hammer against his throat. His first instinct should’ve been to shove Luca’s hand away, to roll his eyes and laugh it off. But instead, he found himself shifting, adjusting his seat, making sure Luca’s hand was cupped right under him.
His ski pants were tight, snug against his body, trapping in every bit of heat from their morning runs down the mountain. He could feel the layers hugging him close, sealing in the warmth, sealing in everything.
“Hold on,” Jayden murmured, his voice dropping, turning softer, breathier. He pressed his weight down against Luca’s palm, focusing, feeling the slw churn in his stomach.
Luca let out a slow chuckle, his fingers flexing slightly over Jayden’s tight, small rear. “Atta boy,” he murmured, encouraging. “Let it out, rich boy.”
Jayden sucked in a breath, his gut bubbling, twisting from the sausages and potatoes he’d downed at breakfast. His teenage metabolism had been working overtime, turning everything he ate into fuel—and, apparently, gas. The pressure built low in his gut, warm and insistent, pushing right against the tight waistband of his ski pants.
And then—
Prrfffttt—
A slow, hot burst of gas pushed out, muffled by the thick insulation of his ski gear but heavy, sinking straight into the layers of fabric. It was thick, rich, almost humid in the way it settled, caught between the padding of his ski pants, sinking in deep, unable to escape. The scent hit immediately—sulfuric, eggy, lingering deep in the heat of his clothes
Luca exhaled, fingers tightening over Jayden’s ass. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice dipping, lower, rougher. “That’s rank.”
Jayden shivered, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted, letting the warmth of it seep deeper into his pants, knowing it was trapped there, brewing, getting stronger by the second.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice breathy, cocky. He pushed back slightly, his rear still snug against Luca’s palm. “You like that?”
Luca let out a low chuckle, rubbing slow, lazy circles over Jayden’s rear. “Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Gimme another.”
Jayden’s stomach flipped. The heat of Luca’s hand, the way he was actually asking for it, made him feel—fuck. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to feed him more.
He bit his lip, stomach twisting again, another deep, rich bubble of gas pushing low. He wanted this. Wanted to let go again, right into Luca’s waiting hand.
Jayden shifted once more, feeling the pressure in his gut build, his stomach still working through the sausages and potatoes he’d eaten. He could feel the weight of it in his lower belly, thick and sluggish, pressing against the tight fabric of his ski pants. His butt cheeks shifted restlessly, the material of his gear rubbing against his skin, and the warmth of the gas started to rise, spreading in the thick layers.
Luca’s hand never left his body. It was a steady, relentless presence, still cupping the firm curve of Jayden’s tight butt, fingers flexing, pressing in, making him feel every inch of his body responding to the heat between them.
Jayden bit his lip, shivers running up his spine. “You want another?” he asked, voice dipping low, almost teasing now. “You still want me to let one out?”
Luca grinned, eyes glinting behind his goggles. “I can smell it, man. It’s making me crazy.” His gloved fingers slid up the small of Jayden’s back, a soft, possessive motion. “Let me have it, bro. Don’t hold back.”
Jayden’s heart raced, but he didn’t hesitate. His body was warm, all the gas inside him pressing, making him feel full, heavy. With a deep breath, he let go, feeling it start to push, slowly at first, then building in intensity, a thick, sour release slipping out, unmistakable, the eggy smell rich and heavy, cutting through the air. It was rotten, like overcooked eggs left in a pan too long, mixed with the greasy stench of sausages and potatoes still turning in his gut.
The warmth of it sank into the thick layers of his ski gear, filling the space between his body and the ski pants, wrapping around him like a blanket. It didn’t escape immediately—it was trapped, all that foul gas sitting heavily in the padding, saturating the fabric with the stench of his breakfast, settling right into the curve of his tight butt.
Luca inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuck,” he muttered, a low, guttural sound. “That’s bad, Jayden. Really bad.” He shifted closer, leaning in, his breath hot against Jayden’s cheek as he took another deep sniff, nose pressing closer to Jayden’s buns. The smell of the eggs and sausage lingered on Luca’s breath, mingling with the sharp, almost sour tang of his sweat.
Jayden couldn’t help but feel a rush of something strange, a warmth flooding through his chest. “You like it?” he asked, voice low, almost breathless now. “You like how disgusting it smells?”
Luca’s hand slid down again, cupping Jayden’s buns harder, squeezing tight. “Hell yeah,” his nose brushed along Jayden’s butt, drawing in a long, slow breath, inhaling the thick, foul air trapped in the layers of his ski gear while surrounded by the snow of the mountains and the calm atmosphere.
Jayden groaned, leaning back into it, knowing that Luca was practically addicted to the smell. His body felt flush, each inhale of the stench making him feel something darker, something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight anymore. “You really want me to let go again?” Jayden whispered, biting his lip, pushing back against Luca’s touch.
Luca’s fingers dug in harder in the already hard small cheeks. “Give it to me,” he growled, voice low and desperate. “I wanna smell all of it, bro”
—————-
Luca :
Jayden :
Dynamic
In a city of millions, two men—Ryan and Jason—lived completely separate lives, their paths never meant to cross.
Until tonight.
Bored, they each scrolled through their phones, searching for something (or someone) to pass the time. That’s when they both found it.
A strange, unnamed app, sitting deep in the app store. No description. No reviews. No history. Just a sleek, pulsing chat bubble icon with a single prompt after installation:
*Start Chat*
Neither of them hesitated.
They clicked.
Their screens went black for a moment before loading a simple chat window. A single message appeared at the top.
— You are now connected. Say hi! —
Ryan, stretched across his bed, thumbed at his screen. The chat had connected him with a random guy.
Whatever. He had nothing better to do.
Ryan: Hey. Who’s this?
Across the city, Jason blinked at the message. Who the hell was this?
Jason: idk, just found this app. You?
Ryan: Same. Looks kinda sketch ngl
Jason: Yeah lol. Guess we’re both bored af
Simple. Casual. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Except for the pull.
Neither of them noticed at first, but the moment they exchanged words, something shifted.
Something had taken hold.
Ryan absently rubbed his fingertips together. His skin felt… softer.
The air in his room seemed warmer, heavier against his body. His shirt, loose before, now draped differently over his torso. His waist felt tighter, his frame subtly shrinking in on itself.
He shifted against his mattress. Something about the way his body rested felt off.
No—not off. Different.
Ryan: Lol yeah… kinda fun tho~
Wait.
His eyes widened slightly. Why had he typed that? That tilde at the end—he never texted like that. It was… cutesy. Flirty.
A faint pink dusted his cheeks.
His softer, rounder cheeks.
Meanwhile, Jason tilted his head at the message.
Something about it made his gut tighten. No—not tighten. Expand.
A slow, rippling sensation spread through his torso, a warmth settling into his shoulders, chest, and arms.
His grip on his phone felt stronger.
He flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift beneath his skin. His palm looked different.
Larger. Thicker. Rougher.
His lips curled into a small smirk. He typed without thinking.
Jason: Yeah, guess it’s not so bad. Ur kinda funny lol
The moment he hit send—
Crack.
Jason inhaled sharply as his spine lengthened. A sudden heat surged through his body, muscle knitting together, growing denser, stronger. His once lean frame stretched, broadening, his shoulders pushing outward with a slow, satisfying pressure.
He rolled them instinctively, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his new build. His chest felt heavier, his pecs firmer, fuller. His biceps bulged slightly as he shifted, his veins subtly rising beneath his skin.
His scent was changing too.
The faint, neutral smell of his room was being overpowered by something else. Something thicker, muskier.
Something his.
Ryan’s breath hitched as he read Jason’s text.
“Ur kinda funny lol.”
It wasn’t even that flirty, but why did it make his stomach flutter?
His fingers trembled slightly as he typed back.
Ryan: Omg shut uppp lol ur teasing me~
The moment he sent it—
His waist cinched inward.
His stomach flattened, growing softer, smoother. His hips pressed outward, the bones shifting beneath his skin, forming an alluring, delicate curve.
His legs stretched slightly, but instead of gaining size, they slenderized.
His thighs—once average—became soft, plush, and bony.
His calves slimmed, his ankles narrowing into dainty, elegant proportions. His fingers flexed, and he gasped.
They were smaller.
More delicate.
A faint, involuntary giggle bubbled up from his throat.
His higher, sweeter, softer throat.
Jason exhaled through his nose, stretching his newly broadened body.
His arms felt heavy with strength. His hands—now massive compared to before—flexed against his thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats.
A warm dampness clung beneath his arms, his natural musk intensifying. He reeked.
And he loved it.
A cocky grin spread across his face.
Jason: Lmao, what, you like it when I tease?
Ryan shuddered. His plush thighs squeezed together. His ass twitched.
His soft, round, plump ass.
Jason leaned back, rolling his shoulders. His chest stretched against his shirt, the fabric clinging to the new thickness of his pecs.
His scent was unmistakable now—deep, raw, masculine, and honestly really smelly.
His armpits—warm, slightly damp—radiated a rich, musky funk. His feet, once average-sized, had grown huge, the soles pressing against the floor with a newfound weight.
His socks, discarded nearby, were stained with sweat, the scent thick and heady in the air.
Jason: Lol bet you’d love burying your face in my pits rn huh?
Ryan’s breath hitched.
His body trembled.
A deep, unfamiliar need coiled in his gut. His thighs clenched instinctively, his ass wiggling against the bed.
His lips parted slightly, his pinker, softer lips.
A whimper slipped out.
His hgher, needier whimper.
His mind felt hazy.
Ryan: Omg wtf why would u say that!!!
Jason: Lmao, you love it.
Ryan whined.
He did.
He fucking did.
Jason was complete.
His massive frame, his thick, dominant scent, his cocky, fuckboy energy—he was the epitome of a top.
His feet huge and sweaty. His pits ripe and musky. His voice deep and commanding.
And Ryan?
Ryan was his.
A tiny, blushing, submissive, needy bottom.
His soft, round ass—perfectly made for his top. His body, delicate, built to be claimed. His mind, rewired to crave Jason’s dominance, his scent, his filth
They had started as strangers.
Now, they were something else.
they only had memories of being a couple for a year.
— two days later—
Jason was all Ryan could think about now—his sweaty frame, his overpowering musk, his deep, arrogant voice.
His scent.
His filth.
A whimper slipped from Ryan’s lips. His pinker, fuller lips. His stomach twisted with hunger.
Ryan: omg jason…
Jason smirked at the message, stretching his broad, muscular arms above his head, his damp armpits airing out. He let out a long, lazy exhale, flexing his thick biceps.
His body felt heavy, powerful, dominant.
Ryan was wrapped around his finger.
Jason : Lmao what
Ryan’s thighs clenched.
His soft, dainty fingers hovered over the keyboard. His heart pounded.
He knew what he wanted.
He needed it.
But saying it outright—admitting it—felt so shameless.
Still, his body was betraying him.
His fingers moved.
Ryan: can u…
He hesitated
A soft whimper left his lips as he wiggled against his bed.
Ryan: c-can u send me… a video… of ur fart again?
Jason blinked.
Jason: Lmao, again?
Ryan covered his blushing, soft face. His cheeks burned
His tiny, needy, giggly body squirmed.
Ryan: pls babe?
Jason chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
His short, unkempt hair was messy, sweaty, sticking up in places.
He didn’t think much about it.
In fact, he didn’t think much about anything.
Not his scent. Not his filth. Not the way his boxers clung to his sweaty skin, or how his feet were practically marinating in his old socks.
He just existed.
And he smelled like himself.
Jason: sure i guess, babe
He barely gave it a second thought as he shifted, spreading his legs slightly. He leaned back, pressing into the bed, his massive, sweaty frame sinking into the mattress.
He lifted his thick ass cheek slightly and—
PPPPPFFFRRRRTTTTT
A long, wet, lazy fart rumbled out of him, vibrating against the fabric of his stretched-out, sweaty boxers.
The scent hit him instantly.
Jason: Lmao, that one was loud af.
Ryan shuddered. His eyes were wide, trembling, desperate.
His plump thighs rubbed together, his body overheated with need. The need to smell it.
He had to know.
He had to hear it.
Ryan: how did it smell?
Jason raised an eyebrow.
Smell?
What smell? He didn’t smell at all, right ?
He gave a casual shrug, completely oblivious to the dense, suffocating funk that now lingered in the air around him.
Jason: idk, just normal I guess?
Ryan let out a needy whimper, his fingers gripping the sheets.
Jason: Wait… U really like this huh?
Ryan’s heart pounded. His soft chest rose and fell rapidly.
He couldn’t deny it.
He was hooked. Obsessed.
Jason stretched again, his thick, sweaty muscles flexing. A cocky smirk played at his lips.
Jason: Alright then, say it.
Ryan blinked.
Ryan: s-say what?
Jason grinned.
Jason: Tell me how much u want me.
Ryan whined.
His body burned with humiliation, excitement, and deep, desperate need.
He wanted Jason to own him.
And he would admit it.
There was no escaping it now.
——————-
Ryan :
Jason :
Hey Support!
My roommate just used your product, and turned himself in to a sweaty, smelly mess of a bodybuilder that’s always bloated. His stench is stinking up the whole place! Is there anyway you can help me? I’m at my last straw!
Don't worry, I am the support, I am here to help. Lie down on your bed and breathe deeply! Fuck, your roommate's fart was a good one! Keep breathing in and out. Concentrate on your belly. And now let everything go. And fart out your anger at your roommate from your belly.
The next morning it will be much better. At least you won't notice the stench in your room anymore. Your roommate is already at the gym. It's not your thing. But you could go for a run. There should be socks and running shorts somewhere in the dirty laundry pile. They belonged to your roommate before his muscles exploded. Now they're perfect for your lean body. You don't need a shirt for running. And no showers after the run either. It's a warm day today anyway, so you'll be sweaty again at some point.
Normally you don't sit next to your roommate in the lectures anymore. Nobody wanted to sit next to him anymore. But today you see him and you just have to sit next to him. You greet each other with fist and chest bump. He tells you that you look good. You tell him he stinks like a football team after practice. He lets you smell his wet armpit. You get a boner. In your running shorts. Anyway, everyone should see your magnificent cock.
The next morning you let your roommate talk you into going to the gym. On the way there you make competitive farts in the car. Fuck, against the protein farts of your roommate you have no chance. So you desperately need a protein shake. Yes, your farts are getting better. But like muscles, there's still a long way to go before you catch up to your roommate.
After the training you check the result in the mirror. The mullet is coming along nicely. Like your beard and the hair in your armpits. Your roommate farts. You send an echo. Real gym bros understand each other without words.
Jacque’s Gym
Ozzie was chilling at home alone in his living room after getting home from his local community college. He was bored and depressed and didn't want to think about what he was going to do after community college ended next semester because he had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t want to go on some spiraling tangent about what was he supposed to do for the rest of his life so instead of doing that he was surfing through tv shows and movies trying to decide what to watch, he couldn’t find anything interesting on any streaming services so he just switched over to channel surfing through cable. Trashy reality tv, cartoons, straight to video movies, nothing was catching Ozzie’s interest. He finally had surfed his way to the sports channels, replays of NFL games, sports commentators talking endlessly about college basketball, channel after channel Ozzie was getting more and more restless and bored. That's when he suddenly flipped to a channel that was playing the strangest thing, it seemed like some cheesy advertisement for a gym he had never heard of. The odd thing was that the ad was absolutely silent as it kept showing footage of guys working out intercut with a black and green swirl taking up the entirety of the tv screen. Ozzie was about to keep on flipping through the channels when suddenly the ad had sound, “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!”. As the ad was playing the super scripted lines, Ozzie kept watching with eyes glued to the screen as the as just kept switching back and forth from images and panning wide shots of the gym to the green spiral. The ad began to conclude “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” Ozzie heard the sound fade away as he became more and more focused on just simply watching the hypnotic spiral. Just a few seconds later the channel resumed playing the baseball game that was on and Ozzie snapped out of his trance. He barely even remembered what he just watched, just that it left him with this odd feeling that he couldn’t place. He quickly forgot about it and hopped on his phone since channel surfing had proven to be incredibly boring.
Later that night as Ozzie got ready for bed he was just going about his routine when suddenly he remembered the ad for Jacque’s Gym that he had conveniently forgotten about. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he suddenly stopped as if he was frozen, his brother who was only a little younger than him noticed and waved his hand in front of Ozzie’s face and jokingly said “Hey? You in there? Earth to Ozzieeeee?” Upon hearing his name Ozzie snapped out of whatever trance he was just in and his brother, Austin, asked him “Yo where did you just go?” Ozzie replied “I..don’t know…” obviously confused himself.
Throughout the week Ozzie kept falling in and out of the trance, he never knew how long the trances lasted but by the end of the week he randomly fell into the trance when laying in bed around three in the afternoon and woke up from it around eight that evening wearing a tanktop, basketball shorts which were damp with sweat, and a beat up pair of converse all of which he hadn't worn since he used to workout a little for fun in high school. He only woke up that night to Austin coming into his room and loudly blurting out “EWWWWW OZ! Don’t you have any deodorant?!” Spurred out of the trance by his brother’s loud complaint, Ozzie sniffed the air and embarrassingly said “Uhhmmm…just uhh get out real quick!”. Ozzie had no recollection of the past 5 hours be he realized, via all the context clues, that somehow he was conscious enough to have dug up old clothes from deep in his closet that he didn’t even know he still had and had been actively working out to the point that him and his room now reeked of musty sweat and B.O. He knew that all of this had something to do with that weird ad he saw at the beginning of the week so he started doing some digging.
Ozzie took the next few days to find out what was going on with him. He scoured the cable channels looking and hoping that the weird ad would come back on so that he could try to understand what was causing this hypnotic affliction. He looked all over the internet and couldn't find anything. Then one night when searching he found this random reddit post he hadn’t found before, it was a post from someone talking about their friend. It stood out to Ozzie because the poster was talking about how he had a friend once who was a complete nerd, not a muscular bone in his body, then one day the friend started acting odd, like very spacey and kept disassociating for hours on end “almost like he was hypnotized” the redditor claimed. Then later on in the post Ozzie read something that made him feel like he was on the right path “He kept trying to get me to go to this new gym he was going to. It was something like Jake’s Gym or Jock Gym, something like that”. Ozzie knew that this had to be it and that the friend just must’ve misremembered the name of Jacque’s Gym. There was barely any traction on this week old post, but there was an update that the user posted it read “I haven’t heard from my friend in about a week despite me reaching out plenty of times. I'm a little worried but I remember that he sent me the location of the gym so that I could go with him if I wanted. I think I am gonna go and see if they have seen him at all.” The update was from just the other day. Ozzie sent the user a dm, asking about if he had found his friend and if his friend was doing any other weird trance-like things, and then he went to bed.
When Ozzie woke up in the morning he felt exhausted and quickly realized that he wasn’t in bed, he was wearing the same unwashed workout clothes he was wearing the other day and standing in the middle of his room with two 20lb. weights in his hands. Just like when Austin caught him like this, Ozzie’s natural musk hung heavy in the room. With his door and windows closed, who knows how long Ozzie was hypnotically working up a stench in the sealed room trapping all of his musk. Ozzie quickly put down the weights and stripped out of the sweat stained clothes, he ran to his windows and opened them all the way and turned on his ceiling fan in an attempt to air out his room. As soon as he did that he saw that he had a message from the user he reached out to, hoping to shed new light on the situation at hand Ozzie went to open it up when he realized that the message wasn't unread, it was sent to him at two in the morning and it had a read receipt showing that Ozzie opened it practically right after it was sent. Upon looking at what the user said, Ozzie read “Bro…you gotta come to Jacque’s its mind numbingly amazinnnnngggggg” and attached below it was a link that had already been clicked on. Ozzie, realizing that this is why he had a midnight workout sesh, weighed the risks and realized that he might get more answers if he could just sit through the video and not give in to the spiral.
He clicked on the link and it opened up the ad he saw. Ozzie made it through about thirty seconds of men working out interrupted by a green spiral when the script began “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!” Ozzie was keeping his mind occupied with thoughts so that he wouldn’t fall into another trance. “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” But just like the first time Ozzie couldn’t keep his mind together as it unraveled before he could find out where the gym was.
Ozzie came too sitting in his car in the parking lot of an old rundown strip mall, looking around he tried to orient himself. He looked down and saw that he was once again wearing the same dirty clothes infused with his sweat and B.O. that he kept waking up in, then once he looked up and in his rearview mirror he saw that perfectly framed in the mirror was a sign lit up a bright green that read, in huge block lettering, Jacque’s Gym. Ozzie rubbed his eyes and reopened them just to find that he wasn’t dreaming, he had wound up right where all the answers he was seeking were. Getting out of his car, just feet from the entrance he felt like this was a bad idea, he looked around and saw a small parking lot that could fit about fifty cars filled to the brim with every spot taken yet it seemed like every other store front around was completely abandoned. Ozzie composed himself and said “This ends now” as he began walking towards the building. With every step he took closer to the building he knew there was no going back, suddenly as if it appeared from thin air, a huge water bottle materialized out of thin air in his hand. He reached the doors and opened one, as he stepped in he felt his mind get fuzzy, a wave of stench engulfed the skinny twenty year old. It smelled as if a group of boys who have never showered a day in their lives hotboxed the gym with a barrage of farts and noxious gym socks. The wafting stench of feet, farts, B.O. and unwashed man ass was overwhelming for the tiny college student. He felt his knees go weak when suddenly he felt someone catch him, before he could react he was being carried away. Ozzie woke up in what appeared to be a dimly lit sauna room, it was about as big as a decently sized cubicle, he tried to move and realized it felt like his whole body was asleep. He heard a voice come out from what he assumed to be a speaker in the ceiling, “Looks like you found your way to your salvation boy” the deep voice from the ceiling said, “Are you ready to be the most disgusting version of yourself there is?”. Ozzie tried revolting, tried crying out for help, tried to command his body to escape but to no avail. The anonymous voice in the ceiling laughed and said “I love this part” as the sound of air slowly surged into the room. Ozzie made one last ditch effort to escape, knowing that it was in vain, as a mysterious green mist flooded into the tiny space. He caught a whiff of the green mist that was being pumped into the room, it somehow reeked worse than the stench when he walked into the gym. The green mist smelled like an eggy fart that lingers for eternity in your nose mixed with the reeking smell of a high school football team locker room on a hundred degree day. Ozzie felt something in him change almost as soon as the mist assaulted his nose, he felt that the smell he was experiencing wasn’t the revolting prison it was supposed to be but instead he felt like it smelled like…manhood. Ozzie’s brain was being taken over and rewired by the odor as more of the noxious aroma was pumped in the room, the stench of a bodybuilder’s smelly feet and the fumes from a brother’s musty unwashed pit became akin to smelling a little slice of heaven to Ozzie. He was pumped so full of the warm green mist that his body didn’t know how to handle it besides making him forever love the stenches that he was whiffing.
The green mist dissipated and Ozzie sat still exactly where he was as a door opened and a buff jock walked in wearing nothing more than a pair of electric blue shorts and Nike Air Force 1’s, he leaned down to Ozzie’s level, “You feel good lil bro? Feel the brostink flowing through you now?”. Ozzie just sat there, his mind too high on brostink to form words. The jock lifted Ozzie’s arm and stuck his head in it “PHEEEEEW OH YEAH! Bro you stink sooooooo good even if you dont have any meat on those lil bones lil brooooo!”. The jock kept Ozzie’s arm raised in the air and grabbed his head and forced Ozzie’s head into his own armpit, Ozzie was passively breathing in his own pit funk which would normally disgust him but now he just thought to himself “...me…stink…gooooood…”.
Ozzie left the sauna room and started working out for the next two hours, he left Jacque’s gym barely able to remember where he parked his car even though it was only ten steps away. He got in his car and headed home after his workout, stopping for a burrito on the way, “Gotta refuel after that…huhuh” he said to himself in his car. Getting home and throwing away the burrito wrapper he went up to his room to find his Austin rifling through Ozzie’s room, “...Bro whatcha…doin?” Ozzie dumbly questioned, “I am looking for that blue jacket I really like I think you have-” Austin stopped himself upon smelling the odor floating off of his scrawny older brother’s sweaty body, “Ozzie, when was the last time you showered?”. “Ion know…huhuhuh…you tell me…” Ozzie rushed Austin and grabbed his head, even with him being bigger Austin has a hard time fighting back as he kept getting whiffs of super potent brostink drawing the struggle. Eventually losing the grapple, Austin was held in the musty crevice of Ozzie’s armpit until he could barely breathe. Falling to the floor Austin couldn’t wrap his head around what happened to his normally clean and tidy older brother and why it felt like his mind was slowing down after being trapped in his brother’s pit prison. Crawling away Austin tried to escape before being flipped over onto his back by Ozzie, Austin helplessly cried out to his brother “...what…happened…Oz?” to which Ozzie responded simply by saying “Jacque’s happened lil broooo” before knocking out his brother with a massive butt blast.
PPPPPPPFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTT
Mexican Flavor
“God, what is that smell?” Paul muttered as he closed the door to his apartment. He’d known his roommate Henry was having some guests over, but he could have never expected to casually stroll into this gas chamber. The whole place reeked of a Mexican restaurant’s bathroom, the kind of restaurant that could leave someone on the toilet for hours. And to make matters worse, it almost seemed like there was a noticeable haze to the room too. Paul didn’t know what could’ve caused the apartment to hold a visible spore cloud. He’d have to find Henry to get to the bottom of this.
Tossing his work loafers and unknotting his tie, Paul hurriedly made his way over to his roommate’s room. He just wanted to get undressed and take a nap after a long day at the firm, still having a party to attend later that night. Henry had mentioned he was going to have some people over from his Dungeons and Dragons club. It wasn’t their usual day of the week, but there was a new guy who wanted to join. Some foreign-exchange student from Mexico or something, who according to Henry did not physically fit in with the rest of the group. Not the racial detail, but the fact that apparently the Mexican student was some jock who completely dwarfed all the nerds. Paul chuckled when Henry had told him that, imagining his roommate’s dramatization.
“Henry?” Paul knocked as he approached the bedroom. Paul didn’t hear a response, but he noticed that the odorous cloud did seem to be seeping out from underneath the door. Sighing, he called out Henry’s name again. When a reply didn’t come back again, Paul lifted the hem of his shirt over his nose and carefully walked in. Henry’s room looked the same as before; same Star Trek posters, same lame figurines from some video game, same tidy room overall. Well, except for the large man who was strewn across Henry’s bed.
Lying on his stomach was a muscled Latino that Paul assumed had been the source of this stench. He was happily zonked out, snoring loudly. Paul cautiously moved closer, confused as to who this stranger was in Henry’s room. He was much bigger than the white nerd had ever been. This man was at least half a foot taller with every body part noticeably greater. Plumper thighs, heavier pouch, wider feet. The man was covered in workout gear that by the look of it had very recently been used. But when Paul began investigating the Latino’s handsome, caramel face, he was shocked to notice that the man was wearing glasses. Henry’s glasses.
BBRRRPPPTTT!
Inhaling generously, Paul blinked as he reevaluated the situation. Of course Enrique was wearing his glasses; he practically couldn’t see without them. The glasses were ironic really, being the only thing about his Mexican roommate that could be considered “nerdy”. Enrique’s life was built around fitness, besides eating good food and getting laid. When the foreign jock wasn’t working out, he’d be at home slobbing it up or in his bedroom with some stranger. So Paul wasn’t surprised when he came home to the apartment smelling like a Mexican restaurant’s bathroom. Enrique had said he was going for a workout after all with his güeyes, some other Mexican bro-types.
But after all these years, Paul couldn’t remember Enrique’s funk being this bad, let alone his gas. Enrique had always had pretty bad body odor, something he blamed on his “proper Latino diet” and his frequent visits to the gym. Enrique even tried to convince Paul that there was evidence by how his body smelled, being that there was a little “Mexican flavor” to it. Paul never bought it, but now that he was in a concentrated room full of Enrique’s fart fumes he couldn’t deny there was an element that made the back of his throat and eyes tickle. He didn’t want to, but Paul had to wake Enrique to solve this (literally) visible smelly problem. Begrudgingly, he leaned forward across the larger man’s sleeping body to wake his roommate up.
PPHHRROOOOTTTT!
A pungent cloud of gas escaped Enrique’s wet buttocks, causing the unfortunately-placed Paul to stagger back and away from the bed. His head had been right over the danger-zone. He’d been so close in fact that Paul watched the flatulence push through the tight fabric of Enrique’s running shorts before blasting him in the face. The mass almost had a spore-like quality to it, the condensed fart gliding through Paul’s nostrils and right into his brain. Now on the floor, Paul’s head felt hazy from the direct blow. Still in his work trousers and button-up, he was barely able to hear the sound of a small toot escape his own bottom.
BBRRMMPPP!
“I gotta…I gotta get out of here…” Paul murmured, the awful stench causing him to lose focus. He was in survival mode now, the smell finally getting into his system and tainting him, corrupting him. Unable to stand without falling again, Paul carefully crawled his way across the room. Each step was not only one towards freedom but one away from his pungent roommate. Each step however was also getting more difficult to take. Paul heard a sudden creak in floorboards. He hoped it was his roommate, waking up to save him from this oddly disgusting fate. Instead, it was the door to the bedroom, shutting on its own like a metaphor from some horror movie; closing the coffin lid.
SSSHHHBBBBRRT!
Enrique’s plump cheeks let out another putrid gust of air. Paul rolled on the floor, his body weakening as he became powerless to the gas. His breathing slowed, accepting the stale air into his body. Paul’s eyes slowly shut after, his consciousness escaping. The foul fumes entered his system willingly as he surrendered. Having a lot of ground to cover, the odor coated both Paul’s interior and exterior. The last thing Paul heard was another fart from his own back end, although this time its ring was a little more similar to that of his Mexican roommate’s.
BBRMMPPHH!
Similar to his roommate’s situation, Paul’s body laid on the carpeted ground lifeless. His lungs were no longer functioning to take in oxygen and release carbon dioxide. Instead, their focus has been reoriented into processing more methane and hydrogen sulfide. The rotten components eagerly flooded Paul’s system, creating an almost hibernation-like state to ease into the metamorphosis stage. While the flatulence Paul inhaled from Enrique polluted his body, he released his own gas that disposed of his previous being.
FFRRRAAABBBTT!
The spores slowly multiplied and released from Enrique’s body into Paul’s. As particular areas became more concentrated, the malodorous work became more apparent. Being hit first and the hardest, Paul’s face was the quickest to change. His nose and jaw broadened dramatically, growing wider as his skull realigned itself into something squarer. His cleft pushed back and thickened, allowing for his lips to plump up with a little extra pout. Paul’s eyebrows became bushier while his hair took on a new texture, darkening into a lovely dark brown to match the altered shades of his brow line and barely-there stubble. Finally, his skin tanned into a honey-like color that begged to be tasted.
SSSHHBBRT!
More of Paul’s lifeless figure was coated. The small amount of fat that he had earned in his first years of desk work at the firm melted away, leaving behind supple muscular tissue. The erosion led to biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Abs upon abs, pec beside pec. His calves were excavated underneath the years of unuse, now dug up to renew their purpose. Veins that had previously been hidden were now apparent, showing the renewed strength in Paul’s body. Once any part of Paul’s body was contaminated, updated, or corrected, the caramel color came sweeping in like a fresh coat of paint.
The spores continued their work across Paul’s frame. His feet shrunk from their average US Size 10 to a more appropriate MX Size 26. His buttocks plumped up underneath his weight, now vibrating every time a new blast of gas was released. Paul’s pouch swelled larger too, each of his balls the size of ripened, flavorful tomatillos. His cock also grew meatier, girthier, swelling proudly into a thick chorizo sausage. Paul’s clothes also adapted, his office attire disappearing entirely except for his loose boxer shorts. Those shrunk in and stretched across his lower half, encasing the bronzed skin underneath a tight spandex material.
FFRRRBBTTT!
The fumes were now undeniably a fog, crowding all of Enrique’s room after being confined to such a small space. The last of Paul’s body was tainted in a matter of moments. His body hair either completely disappeared or transformed into something darker, coillier, and a heck of a lot smellier. His Adam’s apple shifted slightly upwards while his vocal chords replaced some vowel sounds with others. Even the tiniest details weren’t spared. Anything that could be made more Mexican was.
All this time, the spores from the toxic gasses had been infiltrating Paul’s body too. Memories of family in America, culture in America, life in America were all slowly altered. The red, white and blue became the prickly pear, rattlesnake, and golden eagle. Burgers and fries were erased by enmoladas and posole. Paul’s mom dropping him off at law school became Pablo’s mamá dropping him off at the airport. Paul’s life goals were centered around becoming an incredible lawyer, but Pablo’s life goals were centered around having a good time.
BBRRMMPPP!
-and spreading his Mexican flavor of course. Everyone had to get a whiff of him. He loved his manly, Latino scent. And he knew everyone else would as well.
Wrapping up their job, the spores gathered the last bits of the previous being and ushered them towards the backdoor. Anything that screamed “American,” “white,” or “Paul” was clustered and pushed out the two new bouncy globes the man would call his mejor activo. With one final thrust, a concluding fart escaped his system, permanently discharging anything left of his former self.
FFBBBRRRMMPPHH!
Pablo’s eyes fluttered open slowly. He groaned, his head feeling cloudy from the hedor that lingered in the air. He loved it. Pablo adored his manly smell and wanted to indulge in it. Fortunately for him, it didn’t seem like su trasero was planning on stopping anytime soon.
“¡Amigo!” Enrique’s voice loomed from up above. Pablo pushed himself up, noticing his very atractivo roommate in the doorway. “You could’ve slept in mi cama,” he continued smoothly.
“I couldn’t make it,” Pablo replied with a cute accented English. “I fell to my knees when I saw your bella Durmiente.”
Enrique smirked and rolled his eyes. He sat on the floor to join his roommate/lover, but Pablo was already up. The two had unintentionally swapped spots.
“¿Mi bebé varón?” Enrique purred, giving a playful smack to Pablo’s beach balls. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got that party tonight, remember? For that law firm.”
“Ah yes,” Enrique replied. “Lover by day, el compañero by night.”
Pablo smirked. “Don’t be too sad. I’ll be back soon.” He then turned in the open doorway, leaving a proper parting gift.
FFFFRRT!
Skater Stench
Inspired by Anon Ask
Clay was walking to work on an empty street, looking down at his phone he suddenly saw in the corner of his eye someone quickly moving towards him. All of a sudden, just as he was looking up from his phone, some dude on a skateboard crashed right into him knocking the both of them down. As the skater bro laid right on top of him Clay heard the guy start profusely apologizing, “Oh my gawd duuude im so sorry like I wasnt paying attention at all!”. Getting up first the skater held out his hand to help Clay up to his feet, looking down at himself Clay realized that his outfit was ruined from the fall. As the skater pulled him up Clay began to berate the guy, “How stupid could you be?! Some of us have actual responsibilities like work and I cant show up looking like this!”, etc etc. The skater obviously annoyed that Clay was getting so heated over an accident tried to apologize again, “Look man I am real sorry I-” Clay cut him off “I dont care if you’re sorry! How exactly do you plan on fixing this?!” The skater tried one last time to amend the situation “Look we got off on the wrong foot Im Apollo.” he held out his hand inviting Clay to shake his hand. Clay pushed Apollo's hand down and again just was insulting and berating the guy. Tired of this douchebag yelling at him Apollo furrowed his brows and pushed Clay back down to the ground. Falling on his ass Clay yelled out “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!”, Apollo responded “Dude you definitely need a reality check, i'm just helping give it to you”. Quickly turning around so that Clay was looking right at Apollo’s ass, Clay was assaulted with the stench of Apollo’s obviously unwashed ass “You smell so fou-” “PPPPPPFFFFBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT” Apollo interrupted Clay with a boisterous butt blast. “What….the…fuuuuuuuuck…” Clay said as the eggy stench that Apollo just shot into his face began to make him feel weird. Clay heard as Apollo said “Sorry man but I really think you need this” “FFFFRRRRTTT” another gust was inhaled by Clay. “...this…feels……wrong…” Clay was having an even harder time speaking than before. Turning back around and squatting to get face to face with him, Apollo held Clays head in place and told him “Look bro im gonna change you okay? You are gonna be waaaaay more chill once im done” Apollo watched as Clay gently nodded his head. “PPPPPPFFFBBBTTT” Apollo let out another fart and watched as Clay’s light brown pupil turned into swirling green spirals.
“Good boy” Apollo cooed out to Clay. “Skaters enjoy farting out rank clouds of gas, its the funniest thing to us” “FRAAAP” Clay felt as his nose began to like the fetid smell that was filling the air around the two boys. “Skaters don't mind getting knocked down, it’s part of skating” Clay felt as his anger and annoyance towards the fact the Apollo knocked him off his feet quickly rushed out of him. “FRAAAAP” those feelings quickly rushed out of his ass, producing a disgusting stench Clay would have normally been grossed out by but for some reason he found the meaty smelling fart humorous. “Skaters dont mind wearing ripped up and distressed clothes, in fact they like it” “FRAAAAP” Clay suddenly felt that his clothes were actually pretty cool, his temper would no longer rise if he was seen in ripped up clothes. “Skaters like spending their days skating and fucking other skater bros, its the best way to live” “FRAAAP” Clay’s mind grew lighter as his previous responsibilities evaporated into a smelly fart and were replaced with the desire to waste his days skating around and making his skater bros feel maximum amounts of pleasure. “Skaters are dumb mindless idiots whose brains have been replaced with their own ass stank” “BRRRRAAAAAPPPPP” Clay watched as Apollo recoiled due to the malodorous fart Clay just produced, feeling even more light headed than ever Clay began uncontrollably chuckling, “huhuhuhuhuhuh…” Apollo stood up and held out his hand and helped Clay up to his feet. Letting out one last fart Apollo watched as Clay’s eyes returned back to normal and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “How you feeling bro?” Apollo asked, “huhuh I feel… BRAAAP- sniff sniff gooood” Clay chuckled out. “What are you doin today duuuude?” Apollo questioned Clay, “Uhhhhhh skating…duhhhh…what else would I pfffbbbtt be doin?”
FYP Funk
Inspired by Anon Ask
Ezra had just gotten home from a long day at the gym and was scrolling on Tiktok and just relaxing on his couch. As he was scrolling past gym routines, movie clips, and scantily clad women showing lots of skin, he scrolled onto this weird video. It was a recording of a spiral that was taking up the entire screen, Ezra thought it was kinda weird for his FYP to show him that but he just kept on scrolling when a minutes later an almost identical video came up. After thinking to himself how weird it was he decided to keep scrolling. Yet again a few minutes later it popped up again, Ezra scrolled past but the video right after it was another hypnotic spiral. Aggressively scrolling, Ezra was being bombarded with more and more spiral videos, he was becoming increasingly frustrated and annoyed. He started to block the accounts that were producing such weird, garbage content.
Then all of a sudden as he scrolled again the video called him out by name, Ezra was shocked and felt the need to watch the video out of pure curiosity. The video repeated “Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral. Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral”. Feeling the desire to block the account begin to fade and his curiosity become benign, Ezra watched the spiral intensely. After a few minutes of the spiral and commands coming at Ezra the video commanded to Ezra, “Scroll”. Ezra dutifully followed the instructions and scrolled to the next Tiktok. He watched as a pink spiral illuminated his screen, he went to compulsively scroll past when the video began saying “Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron. Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron.” and it just kept saying it over and over. Ezra immediately began listening to the simple yet for some reason captivating commands directed at him for minutes on end. Not only did he listen but he also felt it changing him. He felt suddenly like he had gotten up way too fast, his head felt like it was spinning and he felt a little light headed and woozy. At first he thought nothing of it but then he heard the video go through its list commands one more time and suddenly he couldn’t remember what day or even what month it was. Ezra felt as his recent thoughts began to be sucked out of his brain, he completely forgot that his FYP isn’t normally all spirals, he forgot that he thought the videos were strange, he forgot everything he had currently floating around in his mind. Then it began to impact more cemented thoughts and knowledge, Ezra couldn’t seem to remember what he liked doing, who his friends were, his gym routine, etc. He couldn’t remember anything he had learned in middle school, high school, even college, it was all being vacuumed out of his brain. His mouth slowly hung open and he started to drool a little, without his mind fully intact he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The hue of his eyes began to dull and they glossed over and made it perfectly obvious that behind those eyes there was not a thought in his head.
Ezra got to the end of the video when yet again it commanded him to scroll, the next video he scrolled to had a blue spiral taking over the screen. This video began to say “Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny. Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny.”. It felt like his body was deflating. His big muscles began to shrink and shrivel away to almost nothing compared to what he had. He still had some muscle and meat on his bones, but he wasn’t going to be doing much heavy lifting anymore. He also lost a few inches in two ways, he began to feel himself compress down losing a solid 10 inches. He went from a decent 6’3 to short king status sitting at 5’5 on a good day. His dick began to undergo the same shrinking transformation losing half of what his height lost. Ezra went from having an 8” yogurt slinger to a small 3” wiener. Sure it could please someone but he was not going to be destroying anyone or anything with those 3 inches. Ezra was left as a scrawny twinkish version of himself, the only part of him that retained the same muscle mass as before was his plump ass. Perfect for being pounded.
The video concluded and told him one more “Scroll” and the brainless twink obediently did as he was told. Scrolling to the next Tiktok Ezra was met this time with a green spiral. As it captured his vulnerable mind it began to command “Ezra, you love to fart. Ezra you love the stench of rancid flatulence. Ezra, you need the smell of your own funky ass to be happy”. Ezra immediately let out a silent but deadly fart, and then the commands were repeated, and Ezra let out a just as rancid but more audible fart. As the commands were repeated over and over again he began to let out stinkier and more boisterous farts. “pffft” was all that Ezra could muster up in the beginning but by the end of the video the scent in his room was absolutely rank and the sound of his farts echoed throughout the room. The video ended and told him to scroll, the next video was just a normal video of a gym bro thirst trapping.
Suddenly he got a notification from Grindr, and then another and another. He went to respond and found matches galore. He thought to himself “I don’t like guys…” but he couldn’t get a more complex thought out because he was interrupted by his own bottom “PPPPPFFFFBBBBTTTTTT” He breathed in his repulsive ass vapors and looked back at his phone, “heheh he’s hot…really *pffft* uhhh hot…” his brain was being fried even more by his own stink and he didn’t mind one bit, his own farts turned his preference for petite blondes into a preference for big, dominant men.
He ended up having a guy come over that night and became the guys own personal farty fucktoy. The hunk manhandled Ezra all night but Ezra loved being a submissive little twink for him.
I love whiteboard fox
