The New Office Intern Bully

Title: The New Office Intern Bully

Author: sevenbillionasscheeks

Link: http://sevenbillionasscheeks.tumblr.com/post/149237726136/the-new-office-intern-bully-part-1

Part 1

It sounds crazy, but it’s true. The office that I got an internship with this summer has a “fart sniffing” position. And it’s exactly what it sounds like: whichever intern doesn’t read his contract fully and signs up for the spot has to literally sniff all of the employee’s farts. I don’t know why…something about the office being in an old building and not having the ventilation to keep it from getting stinky otherwise. I think it’s also a way to weed out the idiots who don’t read documents carefully. Poor bastards. Imagine how awful that would be: to have to be a “fart vacuum” and come into work every day just to sniff guys farting asses. Sounds like a nightmare. Not only that, but at the end of the summer, whichever intern got that job gets promoted to be a personal seat for one of the employees. I heard one guy from a couple summers ago tried to break out of his contract, and now his face is one of the project manager’s personal ass cushion. Yuck. Last summer another dumbass got tricked into being the sniffer, but I guess he did his time and decided to leave the company [no surprise there]. This summer, all ten of us interns were smart enough to see that nasty part of the contract and we all refused to sign. No office sniffer this time.

At least, that’s what we thought. That’s what I thought.

One of the guys in the intern group was Zack Schmidt. He was a football player for his college, and he had a big, stocky build. His voice wasn’t as deep as you’d expect, but he still had a cocky “alpha dog” attitude that showed as he swaggered around the office. He had sandy brown hair, deep blue eyes, your typical All-American boy who had it all. Probably had rich parents too. So when he came into the office, the other guys were naturally drawn to him, ready to take his side, follow his lead, and all that. He was the automatic cool kid who, if this were high school, would be the team captain, the team everyone would hope to be chosen to play on. I didn’t mind that the other interns were sucking up to him. He seemed to be cool and collected, probably smart enough. Also, I didn’t know if he was the CEO’s son or nephew or what, but they shared the same last name, so I assumed that’s how he got here. So it wasn’t a surprise when he was chosen to be “our” team leader for the internship.

“Zack,” said Charlie, one of the project managers who had a thick Australian accent, “You’re going to be the project manager for the first assignment, the details are in this folder. I want you to all look over the assignment, discuss your strengths and decide what parts you would be best suited for the project, then you can come to me with any questions and we’ll assign who does what. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Here is the project. I’ll be back in about, half an hour? That should be enough time.”

After Charlie left, we went back to chatting a bit. One of the guys, Ricky was his name I think, said, “Thank God none of us have to sniff farts this summer.”

A collected laugh, “Yeah,” said a guy who introduced himself to me as Matt earlier, “When I saw that, and heard about how it all goes, I was afraid this place would be super sadistic. I mean…how fucked up is that? Tricking guys into sniffing farts all day? That’s crazy!”

A guy named Micah chimed in, “I can’t even imagine having to do that. I couldn’t even picture any of us doing that.”

“I don’t know,” Zack smirked, “The more I think about it, the more it seems you would do a good job sniffing farts, Frank.” He said…to me???

“Haha,” I let out a nervous laugh, not sure how to take that, “Yeah right. That’d be awful.”

“No I’m serious.” He continued with an evil smile, “Your face looks like it would be the perfect match for my ass.”

I didn’t know how to take this. A couple of the other guys giggled. A few looked at me, and at Zack, unsure what to say.

“That’s not funny.” I told him. “Can we act like adults, this summer?”

“I’m not joking, I’m serious. Guys, look at Frank’s face,” All heads turned to me, “Now look at my ass,” Zack spun around and bent over a bit, his huge jock ass hugged by his dark tan khakis, “Doesn’t it look like the perfect size to be a cradle for his face? I mean, it’s big, and his face is narrow, it could probably slip right into my crack easily.”

The others slowly started joining in on the joke and laughing at my expense. I felt my face blush, and my voice was caught in my throat. I thought I’d been passed bullies. I was bullied back in high school, and how I’m being bullied again. I had to stand up for myself, but my shock kept me frozen and quiet.

“And his nose is kind of long,” Micah joined in, “I’d bet it would be right at level with your butthole.”

“Yeah, if I fart, there’d be no where to go but up his nostrils,” Zack continued, “Too bad you read the contract carefully, Frank, you could have made a great fart sniffer.”

“Ok, fuck off, guys.” I stammered, “And fuck you Zack. Let’s get back to work.”

The guys let out a mocking “OOOOOOOOH” groan, laughing. Zack didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He stared me down with a furious glare. I held my gaze right back at him. I wasn’t going to let another bully step all over me. He finally blinked and smiled. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but he walked passed me and over to the open folder where everyone reviewed the project.

When Charlie came back, Zack listed off everyone’s tasks for him.

“So, Matt and Ricky are going to organize ordering the food and decorations for the luncheon, Lee and Jerry are going to work on the texting promotion and making sure that’s marketed well, Micah and Kyle are going to arrange meetings with the other departments here to see what they plan to showcase at the luncheon, Max and Alanare going to work with everyone by running the budget, I’ll supervise keep everyone on track and be the main point of contact for the hotel, and Frank will be the team’s fart sniffer.”

The last part stunned everyone. The shock left my mouth hanging open, and Zack glanced over, shooting me an evil smirk.

Charlie shrugged, “Sounds good. And good thinking with Frank. Like I said, we don’t have a fart sniffer this year and you guys have to let them rip somewhere right? Haha. Ok well great; everything looks solid, and if you have any questions, feel free to approach me or any of the project managers. Good luck gentlemen!”

“WAIT!” I blurted out, “I, no, wait no I can’t be the fart sniffer! I’m not going to!”

“Frank,” Charlie sighed, “Fart sniffing is an important job. You guys are young, you’re gassy, and being the sniffer, you get to protect everyone around you from having to smell nasty farts. I mean, sure it’s a big sacrifice, but it’s admirable, don’t you see?”

Without waiting for a response, he repeated, “Good luck gentlemen, I’m sure this project will be successful. Adios.” He waltzed away. I stood there, stunned, staring at the group around me. A few were holding in laughter. A few were as surprised as I was. Zack was smug and happy, of course. My face was burning.

“Guys, c'mon, you can’t let him do this to me!”

Zack turned to the group, “Anyone want to help Frank out and switch roles with him?”

Of course no one said anything.

“Then it’s settled. All jobs in place. Frank, you’re going to sniff all our farts.”

Again, my voice was caught in my throat. I was shaking. I needed to do or say SOMETHING to protect myself. Zack walked over and patted my cheek in a friendly way, “Get excited, cunt; this summer you’ll get to be my ass’ bitch.”

I felt like I had no control over my body as he guided me down, pressing against my shoulders until I fell to my knees. He turned around, facing the group. I saw the look on everyone’s eyes while they watched me in my pathetic pose, and watched Zack unbuckle and pull his khakis down. Glee. Childish glee. We’d talked and laughed about an office fart sniffer, but they would actually get to see one in action.

“Just got these pants from Banana Republic,” he explained to the group, “Don’t want them to reek.” from under his pale blue shirt, he showed me his hairy bare legs and his butt, covered by tight green striped boxer briefs. I felt tears come to my eyes while he backed his ass up against my face. I sunk into his spongy cheeks. I couldn’t believe I was letting some guy press his ass into my face. It was musky and gross, and he was about to fart…and there was nothing I could do about it! And my fists clenched when a depressing thought came to mind; yes, my face is a perfect size, shape…the perfect match for his ass. My FACE was made for HIS ASS.

PRPTRTPRTPTRPPRTPRPTRT

He let out a disgusting, beefy fart onto my face. His underwear got thick and hot and humid from the gas, and I dry heaved as the smell hit my nose before I even took a breath of it. I heard the group laugh at me, and felt Zack grab my hair to hold me in place, “You aren’t moving until I hear deep sniffs. You need to sniff the whole fart remember?” He spoke over the laughs. Like hyenas, they were cherishing the fact none of them were in my position. Mind over matter; I forced in several deep sniffs of his fart. The stink burned my nose. He had eggs for breakfast, I could tell. But I had to sniff it all up. God knows how many hundreds of more farts I’d have to sniff for the rest of this project.

I had to remind myself, “It’s not the end of the world.”

That’s just me echoing what Charlie had told me, when I went to visit his office later that day.

“It’s not the end of the world, Frank,” His voice was comforting, as if my situation weren’t ridiculous and cruel, “You know that the intern group project is only one thing that the office has you work on, just to see you guys work as a team. You’ll still get other projects from me and other managers who need assistance. And what about Lucas, isn’t he your specific manager this summer? So, what, you’ll meet up with the other interns for your project two or three times a week, maybe about an hour each time. That’s nothing! Three hours of fart sniffing per week maximum. It’s not like you’re the fart sniffer for the entire office, right?” He looked down between his legs, “It was rough for you when you started out, right Joe?”

“Mmmhmm” I heard a muffled yes from underneath Charlie. I was taken aback, but it clicked in my mind that Joe was Charlie’s personal fart sniffer. I then noticed his feet under Charlie’s desk. That did look like a nightmare.

“But,” I couldn’t help and whined, “I shouldn’t HAVE to sniff any farts! I was smart and careful and I read the contract. I’m above that job! The only reason Zack gave it to me was because I yelled at him for making fun of me before. That’s not fair.”

“Well, Frank, maybe this is a good lesson for you. I agree this doesn’t seem fair, but life isn’t fair, and our office tries to exemplify that truth. For instance; if you do things carelessly, you’ll have to face consequences,” he grunted and let out noisy fart, and I heard Joe sniff it up quickly under his chair. “Another lesson: if someone has power over you, you should make sure to be on their good side. Yes Zack is another intern, but he is the head boss’ son, so we kind of have to treat him better. If you ask me, it’s a cunt thing to do, but that’s how the world works I’m afraid.”

I felt dead inside, “So, basically, I should just suck it up and deal with it?”

“Yep.”

“…do you know how embarrassing it is to go into an intern meeting and kneel on the ground while everyone around you does real work? That you’re only there so the guys can fart on your face when they need to? I hate every second of it.”

“Like I said, at least it isn’t the entire office.”

And so the first few weeks went by the same. I’d do my work at my desk, a few boring projects, along with the occasional interesting one, and I’d work quietly. The guys would chat around me. All the interns were put in the same area. But none of them talked to me. I could barely get a word in during conversations. Standing up to Zack that first day was the worst mistake I could have made: they all ignored me during the day, and when it was time for our project meeting, they would mercilessly make fun of me.

Charlie was a little off. While we probably didn’t need to meet more than a couple times a week to make sure the project was going along smoothly, Zack insisted we meet an hour every day. Since there wasn’t a lot of work to do, they’d spend the hour standing around the table and chatting, goofing off, playing on their laptops and stuff. Meanwhile I had to stay on my knees next to the table. That was humiliating; watching them all hang out and become close friends, while I had to stay on the floor and stare at all the asses that would take turns farting on me during the meeting.

As expected, every few minutes one of the guys would walk over to me and stick their asses out. By then they’d make it clear that they’d only go so far, and I’d have to willingly press my face into the seat of their pants. They’d spit their farts on my nose, no matter how small, and keep their asses against my face for a few minutes. “Savor the flavor” became their catchphrase.

None of them had any sympathy for me. The hierarchy had been established: Zack at the top, and me at the bottom. At EVERYONE’S bottom. I mean, sure maybe the guys didn’t all completely like the fact that they had to figuratively kiss his ass, but that was much, much better than having to literally sniff everyone’s farts. I felt like such a loser, coming into the meetings every day, dropping my actual important work so I could let these guys use my face as their fart vacuum.

One day, Zack let everyone know we were all invited out to lunch, his treat. “Except you, Frank. The Mexican place we’re going to doesn’t have tables for ten, and it looks like you’re the busiest of us all right now. But don’t worry: you can have a taste during our meeting this afternoon.” Of course the guys all laughed with him, at me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want them to see my hands were shaking, but they noticed, probably. After they left for lunch, I sat at my desk and cried quietly to myself.

That afternoon, they got around the table, laughing, chatting, killing time. I stared at the row of khaki and pants covered asses, knowing each one had it’s share of bean and burrito farts gurgling, waiting for me to sniff. This was gonna suck.

It wasn’t long before Micah walked over. Like the others, he would stand in front of me and simply stick his butt out a little, inviting me to lean my nose into it. His butt was hugged by a pair of dark grey jeans. Like the others, he didn’t acknowledge I was there beyond me being a place for his farts to go.

PPPPPPPPRRRTT

The soft fart puffed onto my face, and I sniffed it up. Since it was kind of quiet, only the two of us could hear it. But the others glancing over saw me sniffing and saw Micah’s relieved face that it was obvious he’d just farted. A couple giggles, but they went back to business. Micah pulled off of me and walked back to the table. His farts were always the mildest; they smelt like ass musk but weren’t too rough. While it was an easy way to start the meeting for me, it also meant that things would only get worse as the minutes ticked by.

As the meeting went on, one by one, another of the guys walked over to stuff my face into their farting butts. Lee came over a couple times, in his light tan khakis, and presented me with his wide ass. He was kind of chubby, so his ass was huge. It completely took over my head when I brought my face into it. I always heard extra snorts from the guys when it was Lee’s turn to empty his gas. I even heard the shutter click of some of their phone cameras. This was horrible.

PPPRPTPRPTRPTRPTPRT

His fart was short, but really loud, and hot, and it stunk immediately. I gagged a few times trying to sniff it all up. I heard a few laughs booming from above me.

“Damn, guys, maybe tacos wasn’t a good idea for lunch.”

“Not our problem.” I heard one of them say.

Thankfully, Lee didn’t come back that often. Jerry and Alan were the two that most often had gas. I think they would come over even at the smallest farts, because each time I’d get a faceful of their butts, it would be for a few moments, and the farts would be really short and soft. Those weren’t bad at all, I could sniff those all day to be honest, they were nothing compared to the worst offenders. But the constant reminder of my job as their fart sniffer, and having to put my face into their butts, was humiliating enough that it didn’t make their weak farts any easier to deal with. Alan was a really skinny kid with a bony ass under basic khakis, while Jerry had a bit more beef back there, and he wore light blue pants that shaped his ass well. They’d both take turns walking over, pushing out their mini farts, and giggle like fourth graders on their way back to the table.

Kyle only walked over once during the meeting. He was in dark blue jeans and a casual striped shirt. Whenever he came to fart, he paid almost no attention to me. He’d keep talking or listening to the group, walk over to me, grab my head without looking, pull my face into his butt, and let rip.

PPEPTRPTRPTRPTRPPPPPP

That fart was pretty beefy. I sniffed and sniffed, fighting my urge to gag because I was afraid I would actually throw up if I let myself gag so often, all the while Kyle held me there, until he was satisfied that I’d sniffed enough for him to let me go. He’d walk back to his spot without a word to the others or me. As if he didn’t just rip ass over a guy’s face. He wouldn’t even look back to me. But when he reached the table, I’d always notice a smile on his face.

Matt, Ricky, and Max all treated me in the same vein as Kyle had. They each would come to me when they had to fart, and without laughing or talking to me or making a spectacle out of it, they would do so. That was somehow more humiliating. They weren’t even laughing at me. They were quietly USING me the way I was “supposed” to be USED. I was an object to be farted on, not an office mate, not a person. Whenever I had one of their asses pressed against my face, I felt lower than low. I felt like a toilet.

Despite that, Zack was arguably the worst. Not only was it by his will that I was being forced to sniff any farts at all, but he always farted the most, and his gas somehow stunk worse than the others. I had a sickening feeling that he purposefully changed his diet to make me suffer more. To add to my humiliation, he was the only one who was comfortable enough to take off his pants so he could fart on me through his underwear only. His excuse was always that his pants were some fancy brand that he didn’t want to dirty with his gas. But his underwear always reeked. To add insult to injury, I started noticing that he would wear the same boxer briefs for days at a time. And if I noticed, everyone else had to. Especially because his underwear was always a bright, unforgettable color or pattern. That day, the day of the taco farts, he was wearing a pair of bright sky blue underwear that he’d had on every day that week. The longest he’s gone wearing one pair. The final, painful cherry on top was that, while the others would walk over to me for farting, Zack always stopped the conversations so he could announce he had to fart, and would call me over.

“Oh Fart Boy,” he called out in a sing song voice, “I’ve got gas for you to sniff.”

The others watched with childish glee as I crawled [forgot to mention, he always made me crawl when I was in the “fart boy” position] to the other side of the table. I kept my head down but heard him undo his khakis and pull them down. Again, the bright blue underwear. I clenched my eyes shut, pressing my face into the stink that was his ass, bracing for impact

“Oh I don’t have to fart yet,” He shrugged, “It’ll come out soon, don’t worry. For now, just hang on in there and, you know, savor the flavor.” The others laughed, I heard a couple high fives.

That was something else he liked to do: say he needs to fart just so I could willingly put my face in his ass, then make me wait for it. I wasn’t allowed to move my face out of it, instead I had to sniff and “enjoy” his ass funk. I felt so ashamed, imagining how pathetic I must have looked to the rest of the guys, that the only good side to this humiliation was that I could keep my eyes closed and buried in Zack’s ass so I wouldn’t have to see everyone’s sadistic grins.

“Uh oh!” He cried out, “Here it comes!”

The others chuckled, and shushed each other. I felt Zack bend over and tense up a bit. Since only the thin fabric of his underwear was separating my nose from his anus, I could feel it press against me as it let out the fart. And while he farted, he spoke in a low, gasping voice of sickening relief,

PPPPYPTYPTPYTPYPPYPYPYPTPREPREPRPEPREPRPTPTPREPRPEPREPRPPPR “Last fart of the meeting guys, and it’s gonna go the whole length of me saying this PPPEPREPRPRPRPRPRPPPPPPPPSSSSsssssssssss sentence, I promise, I think, I hope, oh God, ughhh…yep there it is.”

Everyone cheered at the comically long fart he’d just ripped. And while he was saying his thank you’s, I quickly tried to sniff it all up so I wouldn’t have so spend more time in his ass. The fart was funky, rank and cheesy, a hint of the beans and spice from the burrito. I felt my stomach churn, knowing that I’d gotten so used to fart sniffing, I could tell what the smells came from. This was depressing. He loved how much he’d managed to dominate me.

“Well, that was fun,” Ricky yawned, “But I’m thinking it’s time to head back to our desks.”

With that, the others collected their things. I stood up and rushed toward the door, keeping my head down.

“Oh fart boy,” Zack called out. I froze in my step, feeling sick at the name and at hearing a couple of the guys laugh.

“Yes Zack,” I made myself speak without any hint of attitude. As angry as I was, I couldn’t give him any reason to make my situation worse.

“Something’s bugging me,” He rubbed his chin, “We’ve given you so, so many farts this afternoon, but I don’t think I heard a single thank you in return.”

My face was blushing. No, I couldn’t take this. He was about to make me say “thank you” for…for getting farts all over me???

“…thank you Za-,”

“No, no, no.” He shook his head, “Get back on the ground. We’ll all walk by you and you can thank each of us face-to-face. No better: face-to-ass. And I want to see you kiss each cheek in front of you, got it?”

Oh fuck no. My face was beyond burning at this point. I heard the others holding back laughter, watching me sink to the ground. I was so overwhelmed from shame, from what I was about to do, that I thought I would faint from being so dizzy. A part of me, whatever little part of my dignity I had left, was screaming inside my head, telling me to get up, shout “fuck you!” and get away from these guys. But another part, the submissive defeated part, was echoing Charlie’s earlier phrase “It’s not the end of the world.” It made me furious, but I had to accept Zack’s twisted and immature dominance. Just give the boss’ son what he wants, right?

I was on my knees next to the door. Each time a guy walked in front of me, he would turn around, and I would speak to his ass, “Thank you for farting on me this hour” and I would kiss each cheek. First Matt’s ass. Then Lee’s. Then Ricky’s. On and on.

“Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour” “Thank you for farting on me this hour”

Like a record player I would say the phrase, plant one kiss on each pants-clad butt cheek, and repeat for the next ass.

Finally, Zack towered over me, his entire being was so much stronger and manlier than my own. It felt so low to grovel to all these guys, but in a sick way, I was so used to it, that the shame made me feel that I deserved this somehow.

“Thank you for-,”

“Wait,” he pulled both his pants and underwear down. His reeking ass, lightly dusted with brown hair, was a few inches from my face. Naked, gross. The guys were giggling more now, a group of turkeys. I felt like I was going to cry.

“You may proceed, fart boy.” He beamed.

“Thank you for farting on me this hour” With a twitching eye, my inner normal young man was yanking his hair out, screaming at me “DON’T KISS HIS NAKED ASS: YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS” but even though my entire being was repelled by the idea of pressing my lips against the naked ass skin of some douchebag jock, I couldn’t refuse. I planted the first kiss on his left cheek. I heard more camera phones go off. I didn’t care anymore. I kissed his right cheek.

“Good job. Oh, and one last thing,” He had a sly grin now, and I watched hip grab his cheeks and pull them apart. Inches from my face was his puckered light brown ass hole, with a little bit of hair fuzz around it. The stink was amplified now that there was nothing to protect my nose from it. No fabric or anything. Only a small amount of space.

“I have a little bit more gas for you, and I want you to enjoy it up close and personal, OK?”

“Ok.” My voice was dead and spoke without my control. In fact, I seemed to have zoned out of everything. I don’t remember the sounds from the guys outside the door. I barely remember face planting into his naked ass, my nose against his hole. I barely remember the smell and length of the fart that exploded right up my nostrils. I only remember that this was it: my rock bottom.

I fought through the embarrassment and vacuumed up his fart, telling myself “The luncheon is next week. After that, the intern project will be over, and you’ll never have to sniff farts again.” It couldn’t get any worse. Right?

Part 2

The luncheon came and went, and before I knew it, the intern project was over. After several weeks of torment and fart sniffing and unbearable humiliation, it was done. I no longer had to sniff any farts, and all of my work projects were serious work. I finally had relief.

I was still the loser of the group, of course, and none of the guys would pay attention to me unless they wanted to make some joke about my old job. But that didn’t mean anything to me. After experiencing the shame of actually doing that stuff, any joke after the fact was harmless. I’d roll my eyes or even force a smile, not to give them any satisfaction. Yes, those weeks were hell, and yes I still hated Zack with every fiber of my being, but all that was over and behind me. I could move forward.

At least, that was the case for about a week.

On the first Monday of August, I got an email from Andrew Schmidt, the CEO himself, to come to his office. I wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean. There was talk among the interns that the best performers would be given a job position at the end of the summer, and I figured that maybe that was what he was going to offer me. But at the same time…why would our CEO talk to me? Wouldn’t that be one of the manager’s jobs? If Charlie or Lucas were impressed with my work, I’d assume one of them or whoever was next in line above them would speak with me…but not the CEO! I was confused, but at the same time, couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I stayed optimistic. It was the only way I could keep myself from snapping in this office.

That morning, I went into Andrew’s office, fingers cold from anxiety. He was an intimidating man. Zack’s dad, the thought just came to me. That means he has to be in his 40s at least, but he looked a bit younger. Neat-combed black hair, masculine features like a movie star you’d see in People Magazine’s “Sexiest Men Alive” issue. He had to work out a lot. And being the owner of a company, he was probably also the president of a frat back in the day. In fact, piecing this puzzle together, it isn’t a surprise at all that he’d make a fart sniffer position in the first place. It was probably something he did back in his frat that he decided to carry over into his company, in the middle of the city, but his own isolated kingdom. A prick, basically. And probably another bully, like his son. But despite what I was always told growing up, sometimes it’s best not to stand up to the bullies. Comply and you won’t have to snort farts.

“Good morning, Mr. Schmidt,” I nodded my head.

“Please,” a swing of the arm, “Call me Drew. Have a seat.” He gestured toward one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

“So, Frank, how has your summer here been?”

I mean, other than when your son tortured me and ruined my reputation with the others? Of course I didn’t say that, what I did way was, “Interesting. I’ve gotten a variety of projects from a few different departments that’s helped give me a better sense of how this whole…machine, works, hehe,”

“Yes, that’s one of the benefits of the intern program; you guys get to see several aspects of the business, and that can hopefully help inform what you plan on doing in the future in this industry, or possibly with us at this company.”

Here it comes, I realized. It was what I expected: he’s going to give me a job offer. I couldn’t believe it.

“Have you been thinking about a potential future with us, Frank?”

“…I, well, yes, sir, when I first applied I guess I did see myself working with one of the departments here. This company is pretty big after all, haha, I wasn’t sure if I had good chances, but after taking on some of the jobs, I think I can handle it. Yes.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” His smile seemed warm. He reached over to his phone and pressed a button, “Yes, Eric? Would you mind calling Zack and have him come up to my office? Thanks.”

I furrowed my eyebrows after he hung up and asked, “W-Why is Zack coming up here? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“You know my son Zack has told me a lot about you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I, um, w-what has, um, what has he said? Exactly?”

“Well he told me about your role during the intern project.” He spoke so casually, as if he had a different idea of what my ‘role’ was.

“He said that you were the fart sniffer for the group.” He shook his head with a chuckle, “That shows character, you know? That you’re willing to do that for your fellow employees.”

I was in shock. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t volunteer, that Zack basically forced me. I wanted to yell that there’s nothing good about that, and that was the worst part of my experience. But again my stupid voice was caught up in my throat.

“Anyway, he made a few great suggestions that I think you would be happy with,” He leaned in, “First, he thought you did such a good job sucking up all of the intern’s farts, that you would be a great fit for the office’s fart sniffer.”

My knuckles turned white while my fingers clenched the armrests. I felt my stomach go cold. This couldn’t be happing. This wasn’t real.

“Or,” He brought a finger up, “You can zip right up the corporate latter and be a personal fart sniffer for one of our new team members, who would be Zack in this instance.”

I felt my stomach ready to flip inside out. The room was spinning a bit. This had to be some kind of sick joke. There was no way that this was happening, that the CEO was telling me I had to become a fart sniffer again. All because I’d yelled at Zack on day one! This was incredible…this was…oh God,

“Are those my only options, at this company?” I forced the words out.

“Basically, yes.”

On automatic I said, “Then I’m afraid I can’t work here anymore. I’m sorry I quit. I fucking quit,”

“You can’t quit,” He looked confused, “You’re part of the intern program. The contract says you have to stay with the program until the end.”

I scratched my eye, “But, but…if I become a fart sniffer…wouldn’t that make me full time?”

“No, you’re still an intern. New protocol: the fart sniffing position is it’s own internship until you get promoted to personal fart sniffer. And once that happens you’re set with us for at least three years.”

Years? YEARS? “…three years,”

“That’s right. I mean you don’t HAVE to work here, but the contract states if you resign within the internship period, OR if you resign within three years of a permanent position, you cannot work in this city without us taking you to court. And you really don’t want to take this silliness to court, do you?” His face looked sympathetic but his eyes were the same cruel evil eyes Zack had looked at me with when he made me kiss his ass in front of the others.

“…this can’t be legal,” My voice was so thin.

“Hey, you’re lawyers against ours. And at least the knowledge of your fart sniffing duties are confined to this office, and not to your family and all the strangers in court. Not to mention the media if they think the case is interesting enough to report.” He leaned back in his chair, “So, what do you want to do?”

He was right. I was cornered. Any hope for having a normal life at this office had been crushed. I could either be the whole office’s fart sniffer, or only be Zack’s fart sniffer. The idea of having EVERY guy in the office force their gas onto me was horrible. How many times a day would I have to do that? How many times does one person fart in a day? Multiply by what, 50? 60? And to top that off, I’d still be considered an intern until I was assigned to be someone’s personal sniffer, so that means I have to be a fart sniffer here for over three years…if I was Zack’s sniffer, I wouldn’t have to deal with the endless barrage of farts from everybody, and I would be out of this place quicker…but the humiliation of it all…to actually choose to sniff Zack’s farts every day for three years, to give him that satisfaction. I wanted to kill myself. Is that an option?

I didn’t notice Drew standing up, but I felt his hand on my shoulder, “Hey, it’s ok. Everyone at this office has to go through fart sniffing duties at one point or another in his career.”

I swallowed, “…really?”

“No,” He shrugged, “But I thought the lie would make you feel better.” He could hold back his laughter, but he couldn’t hide his smile.

I had to think about this…office fart sniffer means maybe hundreds of farts a day from every man here, for who knows how long, months probably, and then another three years of being one guys fart sniffer. Zack’s sniffer means only dozens of farts a day, and he won’t be in his office all the time so I’ll have more breaks, and then I can get out in only three years. As much as it hurt me to say it out loud…

“Ok I’ll work for Zack.”

“Great. Then it’s settled. And speak of the devil, here he comes!”

I heard the door open, and Zack’s footsteps, but I didn’t dare look up. I knew I was on the verge of tears again, so I kept my eyes on my shoes. I listened to their conversation.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Not much son. I was just talking to your coworker, Frank, here, and after offering him the choices, he’s decided he would like to be your personal fart sniffer effective immediately.”

“…Wow, really? That’s great! You know, I’ve always thought his face was a perfect fit for my ass.”

I heard Drew chuckle.

“No, seriously, look at my butt for a second, then look at his face, see how they compare.”

“Frank, could you look up for a second?”

I knew tears were rolling down my cheeks even trying to fight them back, but I brought my head up anyway. I saw Zack was bent over, again his pants covered ass was presented to me.

“Oh, wow, you aren’t kidding!” Drew raised his eyebrows, “Even his nose is the best length to reach the source. Haha, son, you could eat an entire broccoli casserole the night before and you still wouldn’t smell a hint of gas, thanks to him. Alright then, I’m glad this is settled. Zack, you can lead Frank to your office, and in effect, his office. Good day.”

“Thanks dad.” Zack nudged my shoulder, “C'mon, I want to get you set up in my new chair. I’ve got serious gurgling in my guts right now and I need relief ASAP!”

As if I were a puppet, I basically felt my legs pull myself up from that chair, and like a mindless zombie, I followed Zack out the door and down the hall, passing everyone else’s desks and office doors. The shock was still waving over me, and I was only partially processing what exactly had just happened to me. Only a few minutes before I was at my desk, with a grudge sure, but working on a project, a real project, feeling like I was passed this bullying. But Drew had completely broken me by forcing me to be a sniffer…for much longer…full time. Zack leaned over to me, his voice was so low only the two of us could hear him say,

“Told you I’d make you my ass’ bitch.”

A part of me wanted to run. Leave that office and never come back. But at the same time, I was too stunned to do anything but go along with it.

His office was small, with glass walls so people walking by could see into it. On the other side were large windows overlooking part of the downtown area and the river.

“I mean, it’s not that big of a space,” He looked around, “But it’s got a nice view and it’s mine, and that’s all I need. And this,” He pulled me over to behind his desk, “Is your part of the office!”

His desk chair looked like a comfortable leather piece, but in the middle of the seat was a large hole through it. Under the hole was what looked like a pool raft or some kind of sturdy hammock, that was at an incline from under the chair to the floor just passed the front of the desk. I remembered seeing a similar thing under Charlie’s desk, and remembered seeing his fart sniffer’s feet. I gulped. This was happening.

“Alright, down you go,” He flipped the seat up so I could lay in the hammock. I felt him guide down, and without fighting, I fell onto my back, facing the ceiling. He closed the seat over my head, and I was staring up through the hole. I felt like I was looking up from a toilet. My stomach turned; if I was going to be sniffing his ass and farts every day, I may as well be a toilet. That’s all I’m good for at this place, now. That horror was creeping through my mind.

He stood over the chair, facing away from me, so I could see his large ass in a nice pair of dark blue pants. With more dread I realized that ass would soon become the only thing I saw all day. With more dread, I saw him undo those pants and pull them down, showing a pair of deep red underwear.

“P-Please,” I coughed. I hadn’t spoken in several minutes and my voice cracked a little from holding in my tears, “Please could you keep your pants on?”

He snorted, “Fuck no. These are Tommy Hilfiger. I mean, you don’t know this yet, but soon you’ll realize just how often I have gas and how bad it reeks. I don’t care if your face ends up reeking of my ass, that’s expected, but I can’t ruin my new pants can I?”

And with that, without ceremony, he sat in the chair. His cheeks took up my entire line of vision, and I could only see red, and a bit of the indent where his crack was. The chair was positioned so that after a bit of shifting around, my nose was deep in his crack. Not so deep that I was being crushed by his weight, but deep enough where I could only smell his ass. And what a bad smell that was. His underwear smelt of pure ass sweat, the musk of his ass crack seemed so much worse now than it did back during the intern meetings.

“How’s the smell down there?” He laughed, “Pretty rough, right? Probably. I go to the gym every morning, but I don’t have enough time to shower before work. I have a sweat towel and deodorant, but nothing for my ass. So yeah, if it’s pretty ripe back there it’s because you’re getting the full might of my work out funk. But hey, don’t worry; the longer you do this, the more my ass will smell like home to you!” With another laugh, I heard him open his laptop and get to work checking emails or whatever.

I tried to tell myself; the less I think about it, the easier it will be to deal with. But that’s so fucking hard to do when I’m just laying there with his ass in my face. I couldn’t help but think how much this would suck; every day he was going to work out and keep his ass dirty and make me smell it through his underwear. And he would probably wear the same underwear every day, letting it get sweaty and fouler as the week goes on. It was about 11 am I think, so that meant I’d be in the office under his ass for another six hours. Then it would go on for eight hours a day. Eight hours a day, five days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year…for three years…at least. I would probably notice his ass grow as time goes on.

I heard him grunt and felt his asshole press through the fabric against the tip of my nose, as if it were kissing me,

PRTPRPTRPTRP

It wasn’t a long fart, but it was really big. It sounded like a dubbed fart from a really bad comedy movie, that’s how ridiculous it felt. The stink was so bad from this one, it was burning my eyes. It smelt like eggs were rotting up his colon and he was forcing their fumes out at once. I felt the sickening cloud of his gas warm my entire face. I really didn’t want to sniff it. I held my breath.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” His voice was stern and scary from this angle. Even though my body was rejecting it, I forced myself to sniff up the nasty fart. Sniffing loud enough so he could hear me. Deep. I couldn’t hold it in any more; I gagged loudly.

“Yeah, I know it’s bad,” He laughed, “it’s these protein shakes I drink after my work outs. I mean they help me get bigger but they do a number on my intestines.” I felt him settle in his chair, “That and I knew dad was planning on giving you this new position today, so I figured whether you became my personal fart boy or fart boy for the whole office, I may as well give you a present for your first day. A congrats gift. I ate half a dozen hard boiled eggs with creamed spinach this morning. Not my favorite breakfast, but I really wanted to make your first day special.”

I couldn’t help but let out a pathetic moan in horror at everything he just said.

Again, he laughed his ugly laugh, “But hey, isn’t this job so much better than your old one? No projects, no emails, phone calls, no running around to follow up on things…you get to sit back, relax, close your eyes, and take deep breaths. Savor the flavor!”

And with that, I heard him grunt and felt his asshole push against me again. No, fuck no, there was nothing I could do to stop-

PRTPRPTRPTRPTRPTRPPPPP

An even larger fart erupted out of him. Same stink as before. Same queasy sensation of his fart cloud lingering over my entire face. Same uncomfortable gross warmth. Only difference was it took longer to fully sniff up.

“Oh fuuuck!!” He was chuckling, “That sounded brutal!”

While I kept trying to sniff the fart away off my face, I felt him wiggle his butt a bit on me, and heard him say, “Settle in, fart boy; this is day one of a three year relationship with my ass. You should appreciate the honor.”

He finally, mercifully, stopped mocking me and went back to work. I kept sniffing up the remainder of his fart, ready to throw up, and with more tears in my eyes. This was it. This was going to be my new life; day in and day out with my nose up Zack Schmidt’s farting asshole.

Part 3

The elevator ride up to the company’s floor made me dizzy. I’ve been feeling sick this whole month. Sick on the way to work, sick during the day, sick on the way home. The doors opened and I made myself walk out into the office. At least it was Friday. Just one more day in hell before the weekend bliss.

I walked around the front desk where the secretary, Ryan, was sitting. He glanced up and, with a giggle he didn’t try to hide, said, “Good morning!”

I ignored him, feeling my face turn red. His giggles may as well have echoed.

I kept my head down, as I did every morning that month. Kept my eyes to the floor. I’d hear the other guys at the office at their desks, talking, saying good mornings, bringing up questions about projects, every once in awhile I’d hear stifled laughs and whispers that I knew were about me. Another turn in my stomach. Would I ever get used to it? I didn’t know what was worse: having to feel dread and shame every day, or getting to the point where I’m so used to it, it doesn’t bother me.

It takes about 60 steps to reach Zack’s office from the elevator. Without trying, I count down each one, each step bringing me closer to what I’ve been dreading since I left the office the day before. The same dread that’s been keeping me up every night, sick, twitching.

When I got to his office, I saw the glass wall and door, so I know anyone walking by can glance in and see that I’m waiting to start my work day. I push it open, and drag my feet across the carpet until I get behind his desk. There it was: the chair with the hole in the center of the seat. I groaned on reflex, opening the seat, and getting to my knees to crawl around and position myself on the hammock. I layed in the cushioned mat, looking up through the seat at the ceiling, knowing it was just a matter of time until Zack came in, face a bit flushed from the stairs, to sit on my face. Stairs…he told me he’s started taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Trying to keep in shape, he says. “Only downside,” he tells me, “I sweat through my clothes.” Yep. The only reason he takes the stairs is to make his ass smell that much worse when he takes his first seat.

In what felt like no time at all, I heard the door swing open, and the faint sound of rock music from his iPod headphones. “G’d morning, Chair.” I heard Zack say. “Chair” was one of many nicknames he used. “Fart Sniffer”, “Fart Munch”, “Ass Cushion”, “Butt Warmer”…sometimes he called me “the Fart Monster” because, like how the Cookie Monster gobbles up cookies, I gobble up his farts…but for some reason, “Chair” and “Seat” bothered me the most. At least with the others it all felt like school yard bullying…but calling me furniture hurt me more. My only function was to be his chair. That’s all I’m good for.

“Good morning, Sir,” He also demanded I call him “Sir” from now on. Can’t use his first name unless Sir goes before it, like “Sir Zack”. Otherwise I have to call him “Lord Schmidt”.

“Ugh, man I’m exhausted,” I heard him move around, dropping his bag and settling in, “I decided to try exercising more. Rode my bike to work instead of taking the train.”

“Oh, r-really Sir?” I gulped. I knew what that meant.

“Yep. So now I’m drenched in sweat. Gotta sit back and try to cool off,” and with that, I saw his ass come into view. That same, huge ass that’s been draped over my face for weeks now. Again, to protect his designer jeans from smelling bad, he pulled them down and showed me his ass covered in tight green underwear. There was a patch of dark green sweat around the cheeks and over the crack. He bent over and looked down at be between his legs

“Another day, another dollar, right, Fart Monster?”

“Right, Sir.” I felt my fists shake with anger, looking at his upside down smug smiling face, just passed his thick sweaty ass.

“Ready to gobble down your favorite breakfast?” He wiggled his hips a little, “Held them all in just for you!”

“Yes sir, thank you sir” I said through clenched teeth.

Without more ceremony, he sat his underwear covered ass over my face. Again, I was hit by the gross stickiness and muskiness and humidity of his sweaty morning ass crack. Again, I felt his cheeks squish and mold over my own cheeks, settling in so my nose could slip into the indent of his underwear and into his ass crack. He moved around a bit, partly grinding his ass into my face, partly positioning so his butt hole could meet up with the tip of my nose.

“Ugh, here it comes, Fart Monster, just like you like them,” I heard him grunt and felt his ass push into me,

PRPTPRTPRTPPTPPPPPPP

A painful cloud burst up my nose; burning, stinging my eyes. I clenched and clawed at my pants, grimacing while forcing myself to take deep sniffs. Zack always wanted me to sniff deep so he could hear me. I didn’t gag as much that day as I did the first week. My stomach turned at the stench and at the thought of how I’m getting used to being his fart sniffer.

“Ahhh,” he sighed, “That sounded nasty. Was it just like you dreamed it?” I felt him wiggle his hips, grinding his cheeks into my face some more.

“Mmmhmmm” I groaned back, rolling my eyes.

“Good. Cuz that was just the first course.” He chuckled, “I feel some more in me, maybe in a few minutes. I know, you wish I could fart for you every second, but that’s not biologically possible, Butt Munch.”

With that I heard him type away at his computer, leaving me in the lingering musk of his ass. Taking a break from sniffing farts, I lay there quiet, his entire being over me, wondering if there were anything I could have done to keep this from happening to me. It started off as an offhanded comment, then became a mean prank, my job for a few weeks, then it became my only job for three years. I was going to have to come in day after day and put up with this for YEARS

PRPTRPTRPTPTPPP

“Ugh, I don’t know what it is,” I sighed, “the scrambled eggs with sausage I had for breakfast, or these protein shakes,” I heard him take a huge sip through a straw, “or maybe both.”

The morning went on like that; every once in awhile he’d rip some nasty fart and I’d sniff it and he’d laugh at me and say something to really dig in how much of a bitch I’d become. And I couldn’t fight it. I had to say “Yes sir” or “Thank you”. Every time I called him “sir” after a fart made me feel another bit of my dignity chip away.

At some point, I heard a knock at the door, “Come in,” I heard Zack mumble through a mouthful of some snack, God knows WHAT he was snacking on. The door opened and I heard Micah’s voice ask,

“What’s that?”

“Broccoli and ranch,” He said, “Don’t really like broccoli but it’s good for me so I have to eat it. Besides, give my personal fart vacuum extra work so he doesn’t get bored.” I felt him grind his hips against me. Oh God no…he was eating a bunch of broccoli?! And I heard Micah stand there and laugh…at me, at the idea of me having to snort broccoli farts, at me being called a “personal fart vacuum”. My eyes were starting to hurt. I wanted Micah to leave, I didn’t want other people to see me like this.

“Sounds nasty,” Micah chuckled, “Anyway, I was gonna ask if you could email me what you’ve filled out in the spreadsheet so far…”

They went on chatting about work. Their work, their REAL work. I still hated the idea that I no longer had any responsibilities other than sniffing Zack’s farts. I had been working on projects, trying to show my good side to all of my bosses, and for what? To end up here?

My thoughts were broken from the sound of gurgling. At first I froze because I thought it was coming from Zack, but it wasn’t that close. “Damn man,” Zack chuckled, “You ok?”

“Hehe, not really,” I heard Micah say, “I had a burger last night for dinner and I’m STILL feeling it!”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, it was super greasy. With sauteed mushrooms and onions and cheese fries. It was so good, but my guts have been gurgling all morning.”

“Gassy?” My eyes rolled when Zack said this. Why are these guys obsessed with farts? How old are they that they can laugh about them for WEEKS?!

“Yeah, all morning. I’ve been holding them in since I left my house.”

“Doesn’t sound comfortable at all. Here, you can use my sniffer,” Zack stood up and I felt fresh air rush over and cool my face. Absentmindedly I sucked it up loudly, taking deep breaths. I was a little light headed from being under his ass so long, I didn’t register exactly what he had just said.

“Hahaha…really?”

“Yeah, why not? I don’t have to keep him for myself. Besides you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks man,” I saw Micah look down at me through the hole. I wanted to turn away. I couldn’t make myself look at him in the eye. Weeks ago we were equals, both interns starting out, now I’m basically built into a chair. It seemed that no matter how embarrassing this situation was, every day made me feel worse. There was always SOMETHING to top what came before. I heard Micah chuckle.

“How long has he been doing this?”

“Dunno, maybe a month. But it’s been great: I rip ass all the time and never have to smell a thing. You know how awesome it feels to get in your car at the end of the day and just let it all out? Or you’re chilling in your room and you just lift a leg and fart? It’s like that but without the stink. Try him out.”

“Ok,” I watched Micah turn around and slowly lower his ass toward me; his khaki’s tightly hugged his cheeks.

“Don’t need to be careful, you won’t hurt him.”

“How does this work?” Micah settled down in the chair; I couldn’t see beyond his khaki colored cheeks. I felt my nose sink up his crack. His ass didn’t smell like much, a faint musk…a breath of fresh air compared to Zack’s underwear and constant gas and sweat. I wasn’t too worried about this fart; I remember having to sniff his gas back during the intern project meetings, and his was always the easiest to handle. It was the humiliation that I couldn’t stand. Zack was “sharing” me with his friend again…a fart vacuum to be used whenever…

“The seat is just above his face, so his nose gets snug in your ass but he can still breathe.”

“This is kind of comfy,” Micah leaned back in the chair, my nose dug around his crack, “I kind of wish this was my chair. Anyway, I’m really about to burst, you ready Frank?”

That was the first time I’ve heard someone here address me by my actual name. I forgot that I’m not really “Frank” when I’m at the office. I gulped, “Mmmhmm,” I let out. I heard Micah grunt and push,

PPPPTPR

PPRPTRPTRPTPRTPRPTTPTPTPTTTPPP

“UGH,” He sighed, “That feels so much better,” God I wouldn’t have thought Micah’s fart would stink so bad. It was like an entire carton of rotten eggs, and it was so hot on my face it was almost sticky. I wanted to vomit. But I had to keep sniffing or I’d get in trouble. I forced myself again to sniff up all of the nasty egg fumes.

“Nice one.” I heard a boyish admiration in Zack’s voice.

“Do you mind if I chill here for a couple more minutes? I’ve still got some burger gas in me…”

“Haha no problem dude: besides, he likes it, don’t you, Fart Munch?”

“…mmhmm” I made myself agree. I hated every second of this. I felt Micah laugh to himself over me. Why was everyone in this office so evil?

Micah ripped a couple more farts, all of them were smaller but stunk just as bad as the first one, and per my job description I sniffed them all up. Finally, he got up from me, my face freed of his stinking khaki ass, I sucked in more fresh air.

“Well, I’m gonna get back to work now,” Micah said, “Thanks dude.”

“Sure thing, and hey before you go,” I could barely see him whispering something into Micah’s ear. Micah let out a little laugh.

“Ok, I’ll tell them. See you later, Fart Munch!” And Micah left.

I winced at how he used one of Zack’s cruel nicknames against me. But also, I was confused. Why would he be seeing me later?

Zack came back to the chair, bent over a little, and looked between his legs at me, so I could have the best view of his ass and his smiling upside down face. As if reading my mind, he said,

“I feel like you get lonely here when I’m off to meetings and, you know, REAL work, so I told Micah that he and the other interns can use you as their fart sniffer whenever they need it.”

“W-What?!”

“Yeah. So they’ll be coming in every once in awhile to feed you their farts. Nothing new for you though, right?” His smile was as evil as ever.

“But,” I gulped, “But no wait, I thought I only had to work for you! You never said I’d have to do this for the others again!”

“Sure but that was then and this is now, and NOW, I want you to be the Intern’s group fart sniffer, just like the good old days when you started here, ay Farty McFartFace?”

“But, but,”

“Yeah, you’re gonna get a face full of butts all day every day, even more than usual since they’ll be coming in when I’m not in this room.”

And without giving me time to respond, he pulled down his pants and sat on my face. Again his green underwear took up my line of sight.

“I mean, gotta make you useful somehow, right?” He nuzzled his ass down over my nose and got comfy. I wanted to cry. If having to sit here and take all his gas was humiliating, I couldn’t imagine how bad it would be to let the other interns fart on me again, and this time while I’m in this embarrassing chair thing.

Zack chuckled a bit, “Farty McFartFace,” he said under his breath, and then said to me “You know, I like it. Better than your other nicknames. That’s what I’ll call you from now on, ok, Mr. McFartFace?” He kept grinding his musky ass onto my face.

“…mmmhmmm” I groaned.

…

That morning he did go out for a meeting and then went to lunch after, but unlike before when this time of day would be my relief, my break hour or two, the others came in to “use” me. Each one would open the door, laugh, let out a “I can’t believe this”, sneer down at me, let me know that Zack gave them permission to use me, and then present their asses to me and tell me to “get to work”.

Max, with his partially chubby rear, sat over me laughing, “I can’t believe Zack is making you do this for the next three years. That’s awesome. Sucks for you yeah, but…awesome…” I couldn’t believe this. He was admiring the sick twisted power Zack had over me. I wanted to scream, but I felt him tense up to fart and I knew I’d be better off “doing my job” instead of fighting back.

PRPTRPTRPTPRTP

PRPTRPTRPTRPTPPPPP

“Ugh,” Lee sighed over me, “It’s nice to let it all out at work, haha,” He leaned back in the chair. Lee had come in more often than the others, I remember he was the gassiest of the bunch. He leaned one cheek off of my face.

“What’s it smell like down there? Don’t hold back; be creative.”

I sniffed and said, “I mean…ass. It just smells like ass.”

“You can do better than that,” He pushed out another small fart

RPTRPRTP

And giggled like a little boy. I made myself sniff,

“Like broccoli. Old broccoli.”

“Hey, that’s what I had for dinner last night! You’ve got the perfect nose for this job!”

PPRPTPPP

PTRPTPRTPRTPPP

This time I was being farted on by Jerry, whose beefy ass hugged my face and giggled a bit with each blast.

“Damn dude, you have to lay in that chair all day? That’s all you do?” He seemed to be the only one who had any sympathy.

“…mmhmmm” admitting that out loud felt worse than just thinking about it. His ass reeked of cheese.

“Bummer.” he grunted. That’s it? That’s all he had to say about my life?

Finally Zack returned, and a part of me, as sickening as it is to admit, was happy I only had to deal with his ass for a while. Having the others see me and use me and make fun of me somehow felt worse…I mean, I knew that the others all knew what my new job was, but to actually have them see me and fart on me, to know that I’m the laughing stock and the punching bag…I don’t know, it’s rough to deal with. I’d rather have only Zack’s ass on my face, I can close my eyes and suffer through it quietly without having to think about the others.

“Busy day, Farty?” He asked, before sitting down.

“…yeah.”

“Haha, glad the others kept you busy. Wanna know what I had for lunch?”

I sighed, “What did you have for lunch, sir?”

“Broccoli and cheddar soup,” another huge grin, “My favorite. Anyway, back to work I guess.” He pulled down his pants…and then…his underwear?! His semi hairy cheeks were in view, and the stink hit me immediately.

“What are you doing?!” I nearly screamed.

“You don’t get it,” he laughed, “It’s so hot outside, my ass is DRIPPING in sweat, I need to cool off. I mean, we’re all guys here, no one cares if I’m half naked.”

“But, no wait, what,” I couldn’t get the words out.

“And you’ve been my chair for a long time, Mr. McFartFace, and I think it’s time to give you a few extra responsibilities. So my ass gets sweaty and I fart a lot, I’m sure you’ve noticed, haha…anyway, my asshole gets really itchy because of this. And as much as I like using your nose as a scratching stick, it’s not quite enough. I think there’s something more I need you to do,” I felt my eyes widen in horror as he grabbed his cheeks and spread them, showing me his hairy crack and his puckered asshole, “You’re going to need to clean and massage my asshole with your tongue. Ok?”

“…No. Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?!” He didn’t yell, but his voice was very firm. I had to be strong.

“Fuck you, I’m not licking your asshole clean, you douchebag. I’ve sniffed your farts for weeks because I don’t have a choice so I don’t say anything but you can’t make me do that nasty shit, it’s not in my contract, no way, no, sit on my face naked if you want but I won’t lick your sweating asshole. Fuck you.”

I felt my fists shaking against my pants. I tried to keep still, I didn’t blink or look away. We stared at each other for a minute. A smile creeped across his face but I didn’t show that it bothered me. I was too angry to care. He couldn’t make me lick his ass. I wouldn’t do it.

“You think you’re here for any reason other than being my ass worshiping slave?” He asked, “My dad told me about how he has a fart sniffer for this office and that always made me laugh. I loved farting on wimps back in high school. And I knew I’d work here some day and knowing I’d have my personal wimp to fart on whenever was the best thing I could think of. During the application process, my dad let me help him choose who to bring aboard. He was looking for interns and workers, I was looking for who I would make to be my first fart sniffer. And I saw your picture on linkedin, and thought your face would be perfect for my ass! And that’s why I chose you.”

This had to be a lie. This couldn’t be true. He was trying to fuck with my mind, he always is…

“That’s right. The only reason you were hired in the first place was so you could do this job right here. The only reason. Did you really think your resume was good enough for this place? No it sucked. And all the work you did outside of sniffing farts was shit. Even Charlie thought you’d be better off huffing farts than doing anything else, that’s the only thing you’re good at here.

I tried to hold back tears, but I couldn’t. It was pathetic to cry under him like that, but what could I do? My life was falling apart. This was a trap from the very beginning. Before I even got the email saying I was hired, I was doomed to be under Zack’s ass. I felt the tears run down the sides of my face.

“You are only here because your face happens to be the PERFECT shape to fit snuggly into my ass. Normally I’d find a way to punish you for talking back to me the way you did, but I can see by your little crying pussy eyes that you didn’t really understand your place here, and needed a wake up call. I get it. So if you want to say you’re sorry,” He pulled his cheeks apart again for emphasis, “Get your tongue out and up my shit hole. Ok?”

I gulped, I felt like my stomach had fallen out. This guy was the most evil person I’d ever come across. This was disturbing and sick. Almost against my will I felt my mouth open and my tongue stick straight up.

“Good boy, Farty McFartFace, that’s exactly what I want to see,” He slowly, slowly, lowered his ass over my tongue. I felt it brush against hairs, then skin, then the dirty taste of his ass and old ass sweat hit me and I gagged, but kept my tongue out. I felt it make contact with his hole and, thanks to the angle, slide in. My tongue had slid up his ass.

“Ah, that’s it right there. Keep scrubbing. I’ve got a lot of work to do and your little outburst gave me more stress than I need right now. I need a massage. And hey if you do a good job, I won’t fart on your tongue. Deal? Deal.”

I heard him go back to work, the smug little king sitting on his throne with my tongue scrubbing away at his asshole with tears in my eyes. This was it. THIS was my rock bottom.

Part 4

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It’s really simple.

The smell is hard to deal with sometimes, but at least his butt is comfy in underwear. I’ve memorized all of the different pairs he owns. He has one for every color of the rainbow, and a couple stripped ones [those are grey, green, and blue], and a few light grey ones. Since having to lick his ass clean, everything else he’s been doing to me feels like a walk in the park.

Every morning he comes in sweaty, and I can feel his sweat damp on my face and nose while his ass rests over me. It stinks, but again, the bright side: it’s comfy, it’s warm, and I can close my eyes and I don’t have to think too much about where I am. It could always be worse.

And of course he farts a lot, each one reeking of eggs, ass, old broccoli… each one really thick and disgusting. Those are bad, but the faster I sniff them up, the less I have to deal with them. So I sniff and sniff and sniff and go back to relaxing. Like I said, it could always be worse.

But the best part is that he’s been getting more meetings lately. He’s in and out of his office so often now, I spend most of my day just laying in the chair, ass free. It’s been a couple months since I started being his fart sniffer, and I’ve been sniffing less and less as each week goes by. Even the other interns have started losing interest in using Zack’s “toy”.

One Friday, he texted me telling me he would be moving around the office all day and that I didn’t need to come in. At first I thought it was a trick, as in, if I didn’t come in, I would get in trouble for breaching some fine print in my contract and would be stuck in this fart slavery for even LONGER, but he wasn’t tricking me at all. He was serious.

Zack Schmidt @ 7:47 a.m.: I know how badly you want to be under my ass, Farty, but if you come into the office you’ll spend the whole day doing nothing. Take it off, have a good long weekend.

This is a good thing, I thought. If his schedule keeps him this busy, I won’t have to sniff his farts or have my face anywhere near his disgusting ass. And hell I’ll probably be paid anyway, literally to do nothing all day. I slept easier that weekend. Yes, this is good.

I took a walk Saturday, thinking about how maybe i could get out of my contract. I could point out that Zach doesn’t have use for me, and it would be smart for the company to let me go. They’d save money that way. Or maybe they’d assign me to be someone else’s fart sniffer. I really shouldn’t try to rock the boat. Like Charlie said, it isn’t the end of the world. If I go with the flow, do as they say, and don’t fight it, it’ll be over quicker.

In fact it’s gotten easier for me to step into the office every morning. Now that everyone knows my place, the joke has worn off on most. I mean, Zach and the other interns like to laugh about it when I’m around, but there’s no point in letting it get to me.

That Monday, I stepped into the office, walked the 60 or so steps it took to reach Zach’s glass door office, crawled under the chair, and rested in my spot, staring up through the seat hole. Another day of the usual, at least.

I heard Zach come in a few minutes later.

“Good morning Mr. McFartFace. Get up.”

“…huh?”

“Get up. Get out of the chair.”

That was weird. Maybe he was going to tell me something? Maybe I was going to be let go, end this nightmare early! I rolled over and got to my feet. Zack was standing there with his bag over his shoulder, his brown hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, some sweat patches under his arms on his peach colored shirt, and his typical fancy khakis and shoes.

“Good morning, sir”

“So a couple new rules,” He had a bottle in his hand with some milky liquid, had to be another one of his protein shakes, “First, I think I’d like you to only call me Lord Schmidt from now on, ok?”

“Yes Lord Schmidt” how easy it was to do as you’re told

“So, I have a couple problems,” He sighed, “Last Friday, when you weren’t here, my ass was so itchy and funky. I forgot how great it was to walk around with a freshly licked asshole until I got so busy I couldn’t use you. Funny how you don’t value the things that matter until they’re gone.”

I didn’t like that. Didn’t like that extra dig into the degrading and disgusting “cleaning” sessions he’s been making me do. And I didn’t like where this was going, though I didn’t know exactly what he would say. I guess he was going to make sure he never had to leave his desk…

“And besides, I can’t imagine how empty you must feel when you don’t have my ass gracing your face. You definitely missed your home away from home, right?” I hated his smirk.

“Yes, Lord Schmidt, I did,” I was gritting my teeth. Where was he going with this.

“Anyway…as much as I want to stay at my desk and keep you busy here, I can’t. My projects have me running all over the office. How do we fix this problem? I came up with an idea.”

He put his bag down, opened the flaps, and pulled out some white fabric straps with buckles in between a few of them.

“…what are those?” I gulped.

“This is a harness.” He smiled. I felt my heart sink. He didn’t have to explain further. I felt myself sinking to my knees.

“Please, please Lord Schmidt, don’t do that to me!” My voice was shaking.

“I’ve got on one of my old jock straps,” he explained anyway, “and I found this nifty little attachment from some online gay sex shop. Figured you’d like it. This harness goes over your head and straps to my jock strap.” He turned and leaned over to me and wrapped the harness around my head. I didn’t have energy to fight or say anything. There was no point in trying to stop this.

He continued, “When you’re strapped in, your nose will stay locked in my ass. So I can walk around all day with you doing your job: sucking up my gas. Also tongue scrubbing my hole when I need it, ok Farty?”

I felt short of breath as all the awful thoughts shook around, “But everyone’s going to see!”

“Yeah, so?” He snorted, “They all know you’re my personal fart sniffer.”

He had a point. But it felt so much better that I didn’t KNOW when the other guys in the office were laughing at me. Now, if I go out there, I’d hear them laughing, I’d feel them staring, my shame would be more REAL. My heart dropped while I realized this, but I couldn’t move. I watched Zack pull down his pants, and sure enough he had the jockstrap on, outlining his scruffy ass. No underwear. Everyone was going to see me face deep in his naked ass. While he farts. He backed up, reached behind him to grab the straps on the side of my harness,

“Since my ass is gonna be out, the chance of you messing up and letting some farts go out into the office is higher than if I had underwear to block it. But it’s ok: I’ll just tighten your straps and keep you in there nice and snug. If it’s hard for you to breathe, breathe through your mouth. But I better hear you sniff when I rip ass, got it?”

My hands went cold. He was looking back at me, his ass a few inches away from my face, his hands holding onto the straps from my harness. I could already smell the sweat from his morning workout. And his morning bike ride. “Yes, Lord Schmidt.”

“Good. And while you’re down there, make sure to savor the flavor.” He shot me a wink.

Then he tugged the straps, yanking me face first into his crack.

As usual, it was stuffy. But now that the underwear was off, and I was being tightened into his cheeks, it was very hard to breathe. I grabbed onto his calves and tried pulling away to suck in some air through my mouth while I felt him pull on the straps to keep me in place.

“Farty, if you fight this, it won’t work. Hold still.” He commanded. I dropped my hands from his calves and squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the harness tighten even more, pulling my face deep into his naked beefy ass. I hated having his naked ass on my face. I hated how badly it stunk, how his sweat mixed with god knows what’s making up his ass grime is sticking to my skin, how his hairs scratch my nose…I knew that even after showering I’d wear his ass stink on my face for the rest of the day. He wiggled his ass from side to side, slowing down to a sway, “In there nice and snug, ay, Farty?” I looked up over his cheeks and saw him looking down over his shoulder at me. When our eyes met, I couldn’t imagine how stupid I had to have looked, on my knees behind him, nose stuffed up his ass, I felt my fists clench. He was going to make me crawl around the office like this…everyone was going to see me looking like a complete loser. I remembered what he’d said the first day we met…I’m going to make you my ass’ bitch.

“Welp, off to our first meeting.” He chirped. I hated his sunny attitude. I felt my face burn at the shame, at how angry I was to think of how fucking pleased he was with himself. Slowly, he walked to his desk to pick up some papers. I stumbled behind him, trying to get with the rhythm of his legs. He turned and walked out the office, dragging me along. With each step his cheeks would press against my face on each side. Right, left, right, left…I struggled to get used to the pattern so I could breathe. I took all my breaths through my mouth, but being right in his ass, I couldn’t keep his stink from going up my nose. I accidentally took in his sweaty ass funk with every breath. My knees were hurting from crawling on them. And the day hadn’t even started yet. This was going to be a nightmare.

“Morning, Paul” I heard Zack boom above me to one of the guys on the office.

“Morning Zack…what the hell?” Then laughter, “Wow you made your own portable fart vacuum?! I can’t believe this!” His deep belly laugh boomed through the office. I kept my eyes closed. I thought I would start crying. This felt worse than back when I had to be the fart sniffer for the intern meetings. Way worse. I burrowed my face deeper into his butt to hide my shame. I couldn’t imagine how stupid I looked, how goofy Zack must have been with his cocky little smirk, only in a shirt, socks and shoes, his crotch covered by a jockstrap that also wrapped around my head…

Zack whistled while he walked across the office. He stopped and I heard him say “Hey so I got the sponsor list printed. Here you go.”

I heard Micah’s voice, “Thanks, I…no fucking way you actually did it??” He was so excited. It sounded like Zack had been planning this for a while now.

“Yep, all set up. Now I can fart wherever. Watch,” oh fuck no

I felt him push against my nose. I couldn’t help but whimper while I grabbed onto his pants. This was going to suck

PRTPRTPRTPRTPPPPPP

Without any protection, the fart was brutal. Something about the heat and moisture from his ass crack, combined with whatever greasy breakfast he ate and washed down with a protein shake, created one of the worst stinks I’d ever had to smell before. It was hot and disgusting, reeking and musty, like old sulphur and skunk. I gagged at how gross it felt to have a farting asshole vibrate and spit out against my nose, and over my coughing I heard the other guys laugh. I felt Zack shake with laughter

“See? God this is so convenient.” Zack sounded so proud, while Micah was laughing louder than I’d ever heard him laugh.

“Dude there’s tears in my eyes!” He giggled

“Probably not as bad as Farty’s eyes, I mean my gas has been rough lately, I can’t imagine how shitty it must be to sniff them this close and personal. But you’re used to it by now, aren’t you, Farty?” I heard Zack say above me.

I didn’t make any noise. I was holding my breath. The stink was so bad, the gagging was starting to hurt and I actually thought I was going to throw up, and the last thing I wanted to do was throw up into Zack’s ass crack. And I was getting dizzy from how little fresh air I could get and was afraid I’d pass out, and I also didn’t want to pass out still tied up to Zack’s ass, having him drag my limp body around. This was humiliating enough.

“Hey, Earth to Farty,” I felt him lightly knock on my head, “I believe your job description includes the word ‘vacuum’. I want to hear you suck it up.

I clawed into his calves, holding back my rage. I was going to have to do this all day. Every day. Mind over matter; I forced myself to suck in the ugly fart cloud.

“Good boy. Anyway this was fun but I have some other people I need to follow up with. Catch you later Micah.”

“Sure thing. See you Zack. And see you around, Farty McFartFace!”

I really didn’t like that Zack was letting his friends use that stupid nickname. I hated how much I was being dragged around the office to show off how much power Zack had over me. My knees were aching after a while, and my throat was hurting from gagging at the stink, and from the shame of hearing laughs after laughs at each desk. Zack kept stopping to chat and catch up with every man in the office, not just the interns, and every one of them brought up how funny it was to see him walking around pantsless with his “personal fart sniffer” strapped to his ass.

“A portable sniffer? That’s unique” I heard Charlie of all people say in his Australian voice, “I might think of arranging something like that…what do you think Joe?”

Then I heard his fart sniffer muffle something underneath him, something like “Sure, whatever”. That was the level of indifference and acceptance I needed to get to if I didn’t want to snap at this office.

What I hated most about all of this, more than Zack whistling and swaying his hips side to side, showing off his latest bullying tactic to everyone, was that I had no one to blame but myself. I chose to be his personal sniffer instead of the general office sniffer. I should have known Zack would be cruel about it, that he wouldn’t ONLY settle for having me under his desk chair.

At noon he walked back to his office and I felt him fiddling with the straps. Immediately, I yanked back, and as I felt the straps of my harness loosen, my weight threw me to the floor with a thud. My head was stinging, but I didn’t care: I sucked in fresh air, air that seemed fresher than anywhere else in the world. Gasping loudly, I felt my eyes adjusting to the light. Zack leaned over me with a little smile.

“See, that wasn’t too bad, was it, Farty?”

This douchebag had to know exactly how bad it was. He knew how gross his farts were and he made sure his ass and farts reeked by exercising and drinking protein shakes and skipping showers. But I didn’t have the energy to fight. I had to remind myself that I could only get through this with indifference. Just accept it. It could be worse.

“No, Lord Schmidt, that wasn’t too bad.”

“Good. It’s lunch time, and I’ll be eating here at my desk. You’re going to take off that harness and settle into the chair before I get back from the break room, understand?”

“Yes, Lord Schmidt.”

“Good boy.” And with that, he turned around and walked out of his office. I couldn’t help but gawk at his naked ass while he walked away. How can he be so relaxed and smug that he has no problem walking around the office half naked? Then again, he’s the boss’ son, and he’s rich, and it’s clear that he loves treating me this way because he’s THAT entitled. No point in thinking about it. I tore off my harness and got into the chair quick. Laying there, the dizziness was going away a bit, and now my knees were burning with pain. They would probably be covered in bruises, sore muscles and tendons, fabric burns from how my pants rubbed against them. I remember how Charlie kept insisting that it could always be worse, but it seems that as the days go on, it keeps getting worse. Maybe THAT’S what he meant, “It could always be worse, and it will be worse, there will never be a rock bottom because whatever happens next will be worse than that”

I must have died at some point and this entire office is just my personal hell.

Zack came back, and I watched him put a bag down on the table. He looked down through the seat hole at me

“Guess what I’m having for lunch, Farty.”

“What are you having for lunch, Lord Schmidt?”

“It’s a special recipe I made at home, packed with protein and nutrients: a black bean burger topped with egg salad and cabbage, with a side of broccoli. Also today’s my cheat day so I’m having a side of potato wedges and a chocolate milkshake with extra protein powder.” He started rubbing his chin as if what he said next just came to mind, “Oh no, now that I think about it, all this food will combine to make probably the worst farts I could possibly rip. Do you think you can handle that?”

“…” I took a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Schmidt. That’s why I’m here.”

His smile stretched ear to ear, “THAT’S what I like to hear.” So he turned around, spread his cheeks to show me his stinky asshole, and sat naked on my face again.

“Oh, and Farty, since I’ve been gassy and sweaty today I need you to clean me up like always.”

I couldn’t speak since he was sitting on me, so instead I let out a muffled “mmhmm” and stuck my tongue out into the awful taste that was his ass crack and hole.

I heard him open his laptop while he wiggled his ass a bit and said, “Only the best for you, Farty.”

He ate his fart-fueling lunch while watching comedy show clips on YouTube. While I was laying there, I spent the time thinking. I thought about the pain in my knees, in my throat, my headaches, how embarrassed I was, and most of all the STINK that felt like it was going to stick to my face forever. The taste of his ass that I wouldn’t be able to get out even with a full tube of toothpaste. I breathed it in anyway. Breathe in, breathe out. I tried to do the math in my head. It’s been at least four months of this torture, so I had two years and eight months left in my contract. There’s about four weeks per month, and at five days of work a week…that would be about twenty two days a month give or take, so about…thirty two months left in my contract, meaning…at least seven hundred and four days of this hell. Seven hundred and four days of crawling around, face stuffed into Zack’s farting ass, licking the sweat out of it. I felt him shaking above me, laughing at the show. He was so fucking happy, pleased with himself, the little king sitting on his throne, my face, using my tongue as a sponge for his sweat and grime.

“Looks like my bean burger’s already kicking in!” Zack said, and before I could bring my tongue back into my mouth, he grunted and pushed,

RPTRPTPRTPRRPTPTPPPPPP

A foul fucking fart spat onto my tastebuds and tore into my nose. It was just as bad as before, and I couldn’t sniff it up because I kept gagging and coughing.

“Oh fuck that reeks!” I heard him whine, “C’mon Farty, I shouldn’t have to smell any of it! Do your job right.”

My eyes were watering and I held back puke, feeling his sweaty hairy ass cheeks smother my face, tasting his ass sweat in my drool. Seven hundred and four more days of this. Only seven hundred and four more days…

I couldn’t do this. I needed to talk to Drew.

Part 5

My hands were shaking at my computer keyboard. Sitting in my apartment in the dark, lit by the screen of my laptop, I stared at the email I had written. It was several paragraphs of begging, bitch like begging, for Drew to release me from this contract. I would rather speak to him in person, but when would I have time during the day? I waited until I got home after work to put it together. My hand hovered over the send button.

What if this is a mistake? What if this is a waste of time, and he tells me “oh well, you signed the contract, and you agreed to this months ago, too bad”…And that was the best case scenario. Worst case was that he would do something drastic, like extend my contract, or somehow make me the entire office’s sniffer but still give Zack special privileges…oh god what if he makes me the ass cleaning boy for the whole floor?!

I hovered the mouse over the delete button. I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“NO, what the fuck, no, don’t delete this,” I said out loud, “Don’t settle. If you keep thinking like that, ‘go with the flow’, you’re going to end up settling for over two fucking years of this.’

Even if there were worst case scenarios that I couldn’t even think of, I knew I had to send it. I had to, because I could still smell Zack’s asshole. The first thing I do every day when I get home is scrub my face with soap to try and take off all of the ass funk. But that doesn’t ever help. I’d smell soap with a hint of ass at the end. If he’s farting up my nose all day, there has to be ass sweat or fart particles deep in there, infecting my fucking skull. Then I brush my teeth, my tongue, gargle mouth wash, but no matter how many chemicals I scrub my mouth with, I can still taste his ass. I don’t know how. I don’t even know if it’s because I missed a spot, or if the taste is in my head. And I wouldn’t be surprise; I’m ready to fucking crack. I can’t sleep at night. My eyes twitch at the thought of having to make myself go downtown to that office to let this douchebag use my FACE as his fart eating chair.

I hit send and the email flew off to Drew’s inbox. It was 8pm, I wasn’t sure if he would still be working or not at this time, or checking his emails at least, but I hoped that it was late enough for it to be the first thing he read when he got into the office.

For the fourth time, I had rubbed my face raw and red with soap, and had brushed my teeth until I could see blood from my gums mixed with the toothpaste foam. And still, I could feel his asshole on my tongue. I cringed, turned off the lights, and got into bed.

No more. I’m going to end this tomorrow. Drew has the email, we will talk in the morning, and some way or another I’m getting out of this contract. My eyes hurt and were slowly closing, but the anxiety of tomorrow kept me up. I turned over and saw light blue. The same light blue as one of Zack’s pairs of underwear. I jumped up, forgetting I was at home. I can’t do this anymore. This NEEDED to end.

…
I sat on the train with my head down, focusing on my breath. It’ll be simple. Easy. Quick. Go in, walk to Drew’s office, say you want out. The worst he can do is say no. I live ten stops away from the station right outside the building. I watched the stop names go by, dread boiling in my stomach.

I got off the stop and headed up the stairs, breathing in the fresh fall air. Normally, this was the semi-sweet part of the day, the last moments where I’d get to smell literally anything other than Zack’s asshole and farts, the short moment walking into the building before I’d be in stink hell for 8 hours. But the wind made me determined not to take no for an answer.

The elevator doors opened to the company’s floor. Ryan glanced up at me at the front desk, smiled and giggled his daily “Good morning”, but instead of walking right, I took a left turn, towards Drew’s office.

I heard footsteps behind me but I didn’t turn around. A hand grabbed onto my shoulder, “Uh, Farty, where do you think you’re going?” It was Zack, here earlier than usual. With a confidence I haven’t felt in months, I said,

“Fuck off,” and kept walking forward.

“…excuse me?!” I bet his face was in total shock. I smiled to myself. I only had to head up the stairs and then around the corner to Drew’s office.

Zack rushed up and hopped in front of me. I grit my teeth.

“I said-,” The back of his hand smacked across my cheek. The force was so strong, I nearly fell to the ground. My eyes were blinded by a few stars as I regained my balance, stinging pain in my face made me tear.

“That is not how you speak to me.” Zack’s voice was so calm and cold, it scared me. His eyes were dark, glaring down at me. I could see how angry he was, even if he was keeping his cool in the office. It took all I could to keep from whimpering, from apologizing or cowering like a little bitch. I needed to stand up for myself.

“I’m going to speak to your dad,” I said, “That’s all.” Bravely, I took a step forward, but his hand reached out to my chest and held me back.

“I know.” He smirked. I felt a shiver in my spine. He said, “And he’s not in the office yet. You’ll have to wait until he calls you in.” He patted my face where he’d hit me, “Now, come over to my office. I need to get you strapped in ASAP; I went out with friends to a bar last night and I can still feel the beer gurgling in me.”

“No thanks,” I made myself say, “I’m going to wait for Drew to get in.”

Zack’s smile didn’t go away. I hadn’t realized how strong he was; my face was stinging from where he hit me, I was afraid my eye might even swell up. He took a step closer, his face nearly touching my own, and said as calm as ever, “That wasn’t a request. I’m ordering you to follow me to my office so I can strap you in.”

I’d already made myself promise that I wasn’t going to do this anymore. But…Zack was so fucking scary. I couldn’t let him get to me, or I’d never be free. I gulped and said, “No” my voice was steady.

In what seemed like one swift motion, his knee came up between my legs and crushed my balls. Just as I had yelped out and lost my breath, his hand came up and hit me across the other side of my face, sending me into another stinging blindness. Finally, I felt his fist smash into my stomach. I was gasping loudly on my way to the ground; pain in my crotch, stomach, and cheek. I was hunched on my side on the floor, in fetal position, wheezing loudly, dizzy from the pain. I felt Zack roll me over onto my belly. He crouched over me, grabbed a fistfull of my hair, and pulled my head up backward. I let out a small cry of pain, “I’m sorry,” it was that pathetic. He was fixing the harness over my head. He must have had it in his pocket. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“No you’re not,” he whispered into my ear, tightening the straps, “But you’re going to be.” The dread was back in my stomach. Not only because I was going to end up nose first in his ass yet again. Drew had read the email, and told Zack about it. Why? What were they talking about? What were they planning? I hated how these two seemed to always be steps ahead of me.

Zack rolled me onto my back. I was still wincing from the pain. He stood over me, his feet on either side of my head. I looked up at his crotch, his huge ass in his tight khakis. He was looking off to the side, smiling, nodding at someone. Then I watched his hands go down to his belt, undoing it, pulling his pants down. He bent over to yank them to his calves, and again I saw the familiar sight of his asshole, with all the brown fuzzy hair around it, and over his beefy cheeks. He stood back up, his ass was outlined by the jockstrap that would soon hold my face. He looked over my shoulder, “So my dad said he’d be ready to talk to you right when he gets in. But just because you talked back to me, I’ll let him know we’ll be meeting at the end of the day. Sounds good?”

It took a lot to keep from crying. I was so ready to be done with this. After just a minute or two, I’m right back to where I started. I watched his ass descend over my face, but I couldn’t take looking at it anymore so I shut my eyes. I felt him straddle my face, his entire weight crushing my head for a moment before he propped himself up a bit. His ass was disgustingly warm, slimy with sweat from his bike ride. He lowered his cheeks on my face until they naturally slided over my own cheeks, my nose dug into his crack. He slid around a bit until he could feel my nose poking up his asshole. I held my breath as long as I could, feeling him connect the harness straps to his jockstrap.

“Just so you know,” He told me, “I woke up extra early today to run along the lakefront. Watched the sun rise. Anyway, I was so sweaty afterward, I reeked to high heaven and needed a shower. I scrubbed my entire body with soap to clean off the sweat. Except my ass. That I made sure to keep out of the shower. Haha, can you imagine? Me taking a shower with my ass sticking out of the curtain? Anyway it stayed dry of water, instead it’s been soaked in sweat. I know it smells bad, but your face was red after I let you out yesterday, and I thought it was because your skin was dry and irritated. Hopefully my ass crack sweat will keep you moisturized. Only thinking of you, Farty.”

My fists were clenched. I could picture him straddling my face, me laying flat on the ground, helpless, while he was slowly grinding his ass into my face, that same ass dripping in sweat and grime. In my head, I pictured him with a huge grin, his teeth bared, biting his tongue to keep from laughing. How many guys were walking around in the office right now? We were in the middle of the hallway, anyone could see this. I could barely breathe because his weight was crushing on my nose. I tried sucking in air and of course the stink was awful up close. His wet ass crack hair was sliding over my face. It felt so weird, so gross, I really wanted to cry.

“Alright, nice and snug,” He slowly stood up, and stepped forward, pulling me up by my neck. He kept walking until I could get to my knees and crawl behind him. Still cringing from when he kneed me in the balls, I crawled around as he walked down the hall, his pants to his knees, his cheeks scrubbing my face with every step. I finally opened my eyes to the sight that I’ve basically memorized by this point: looking up his back over the cusp of his butt cheeks. How did Drew even make this a thing? How many years has this been going on, and why has no one in the office every said anything about it?

Because it’s humiliating. What would I possibly do? Who would I talk to? I’d have to admit to anyone who would listen that I was forced to suck farts all day. So of course people like me, other sniffers, keep silent.

Zack said good morning to a few of the guys sitting at their desks. I heard them say good morning back with a chuckle, watching him walk around with his pants around his knees and my face strapped in tight into his stinking ass crack. The joke that never gets old around here. My knees were starting to burn from the friction of crawling around. The smell was so fucking bad, and my nose was basically up his asshole.

When we reached his office, he stood at his desk, leaning over to do work on his computer. I sat there like an idiot, trying not to break out in a rage. I had half a mind to pull out of the harness and break free and run out of this fucking building. But I needed to be patient. If I’ve done this for months now, I can last until the afternoon to talk to Drew. But even then, it sounds like Drew had something bad planned for me. I needed to insist I wouldn’t do this anymore.

“And…send” Zack said out loud, “Good news, Farty; I rescheduled your little meeting with dad to 4:45 in the afternoon. Right now it’s…just about 9. Give or take your lunch break, that means you’ve got maybe seven and a half hours of work today until we discuss your contract. Sound good?”
I let out a groan.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I started screaming, thrashing against his thighs, hitting him, yanking my head back, but the harness was so tight, my neck hurt from the jolting. “Hey, HEY!” He yelled, “Calm down. What’s gotten into you today, Mr. McFartFace?! You’ve been doing so well these past few months. I don’t like how you’re misbehaving today. And I’m sure my dad won’t like it either.”

I gave up, slumping down, the only thing holding me up was the harness around my head. I started crying into his ass. I felt like such a loser.

“Give me your hands.”

I did what I was told. I felt him strap them onto the sides of his jockstrap, so they were dangling against his waist by my wrists. “I’m sorry for doing that, but I don’t want you to keep hitting me. The fuck is wrong with you?”

Because I was crying, I kept pausing to catch my breath, so I had no choice but to take deep breaths of his freshly-ripped ass. I snorted his gas in like a pig. I tried telling him I was sorry, but his ass muffled everything I said. He seemed to understand because I felt him gently stroke my hair, “Hey, it’s ok. I have bad days too. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed? Well, I know what’ll cheer you up; I had an extra large protein bomb shake this morning, so if you sniff all of it up so I don’t have to deal with the nasty stink, then I’ll know what a great hard working employee you are. Isn’t it great to feel valuable, even when it seems like you aren’t?”

His hand dropped from my hair and clawd around the back of my head, shoving me into his ass even closer, so close my entire face was smashed into his crack,

PRTRPTPRPTPRTPRPTRPTPPPPPPPP

“Ugh, fuck,” He laughed, “Don’t know what’s in those shakes but they tear me up. Take a big whiff of that, Farty. And as always,” His fingers ran through my hair, “Savor the flavor.”

…
The day went on as usual. Zack walked around the office going over the status on different projects he was overseeing. The entire time, I had to crawl around on my knees only. It was awkward trying to move at the same pace, and without my hands to keep me balanced, I felt like I would trip up and fall somehow. Though if I did fall, my face would still be tied into his ass so if anything all the pain would go right into my neck [which was already starting to feel sore from the extra strain].

“Why’s he in handcuffs?” Micah noticed.

“He was acting unprofessional.” Zack said. They chuckled. I sighed, my hot breath against his warm ass made his crack uncomfortably moist on my face, amplifying the stink.

He worked with Micah and Lee on some new campaign for a client, I had no idea. I knew nothing about the business anymore. I came into the company interested in marketing and design, but instead I have to spend every day with my nose shoved into this dickwad’s asshole. Listening to everyone in the office around me go about their business made me fuming with rage, a slow boiling rage.

“You know, I’m so jealous that you have your own fart sniffer,” Lee said near the end of their meeting, “I mean, do you have any idea how often I need to rip ass but have to hold it in because of other people near me?”

Micah snorted, “Yeah, you’re living the dream, dude.”

“Thanks,” Zack slowly swayed his hips, literally rubbing his ass in my face, “You know, it’s disappointing that Farty chose to be my personal sniffer,”

“Farty?” Lee cut in.

“Farty McFartface,” Zack shrugged, “Better than his old name. More descriptive. Anyway, Farty could have chosen to be the sniffer for the whole office, but he decided to be mine alone.”

“So we could have had a sniffer?” Micah was so disappointed, “Ugh, can your dad find one for the whole floor? Lee’s right, it’s annoying to consciously hold in my gas. When I’m at home I let loose whenever. I wish I had that freedom here too.”

“Yeah, and it’s kind of funny to fart in some loser’s face.” Lee laughed. The others laughed along. My fists were clenching against Zack’s waist.

“Well, we might be getting a new one. Who knows. But I don’t mind sharing for now,” I felt Zack loosen the harness. Oh no, please don’t…

I sucked in the fresh air after his cheeks peeled off my face, which felt sticky and sweaty and greasy and disgusting. I gagged at the thought that I was completely covered in his ass grime.

“…Do we have to take our pants off?” Micah looked nervous, over his shoulder, “Can we do that in the office?”

“Hell, I do it all the time,” Zack laughed, slapping his own beefy buns, making them jiggle, “I mean you don’t have to, but his face has been up my ass all morning, do you want my butt sweat and stink to get into your khakis?”

They nodded, and I with dread I watched Micah undo his belt. I thought I’d only have to deal with one ass. But now I had no choice but to sit there and willingly press my face into their asses for them to fart on. Micah stepped toward me and turned around. His ass was covered in thick black hair. Even before I could actually smell it, I knew it was going to fucking reek. He spread his cheeks and I saw black hair swirl around his hole,

“Hurry up, Farty,” He said over his shoulder, “I don’t wanna keep holding this one in.”

I was gritting my teeth, but I had to bear it. Only a few more hours of this bullshit until I could talk to Drew and discuss something else. Anything else than this.

I pressed my face into his crack, his butthole against the tip of my nose. No surprise at all, it stunk of ass. Even if he had showered that morning, ass hair holds in musk.

PPFPFPFFFFFFFFFFFF

At least it was short. And it didn’t make much of a sound, a soft whistle before becoming a silent breeze. Even so, it was deadly. I gagged because it stunk of sewage, but I had already angered Zack enough today so I forced myself to suck it through my nose one deep sniff.

“Ugh, that feels so much better,” Micah sighed, making the others laugh. His ass felt warm because more gas was seeping out slowly. I kept sniffing to try and get rid of all of it. It stunk so bad, like ass sweat and shit, it was such a thick stink. What are these guys eating that their farts stink this bad? I rarely have gas and when I do, it’s gross but not this gross…

“C’mon, my turn!” I heard Lee complain.

“Wait, I’m still farting,” Micah moaned. And sure enough, he pushed out and the quiet stream of gas sputtered a bit on my nose. I was getting lightheaded from how often I was sniffing in, shallow breaths, trying not to gag from the stink. I heard the other guys laughing.

“Still?” Zack screeched, “Damn, you really needed some relief.”

“It was starting to hurt,” He sighed, “Holding all that in, like my guts were packed to the brim with fart.” The others were still laughing behind him, watching me sniff at his asshole like a dog, making sure no gas escapes.

“Alright, you done?” Lee pretended to be annoyed.

“Yeah,” Micah smiled, “Finally got it all out. Thanks, Farty.” He pulled away from my face and pulled his khaki’s up. My stomach felt twisted from the nausea.

“He’s just doing his job,” Zack cut in, “Thank me for letting you use my personal sniffer!”

“Thank you Zack,” Micah rubbed his belly, “I really needed that.”

I hated how much Zack loved to talk about me as if I weren’t there, as if I’m not a person. He’s obsessed with treating me like a thing to be used. In a way, that is what I am to him. A vacuum. I couldn’t let his hurtful attitude get to me. I needed to focus on how I was going to get out of this.

“Alright then Frank, er, Farty,” Lee turned around, “My turn to let loose.” He bent over a little, his giant ass mooning the three of us. He didn’t walk up to me, so I had to crawl over to him. His ass wasn’t hairy, but was much bigger and wider than Micah’s, and it got bigger the closer I got to it. I gulped. I remember having to suffer his gas day one. It wasn’t terrible, but that doesn’t make it good, and doesn’t mean I’d want to do it again. I made myself lean into him, feeling his cheeks rest over my face until my nose pressed into his hole. I felt claustrophobic being buried in this giant ass. He started grunting, his hole pushed against my face,

PRTPRPTRPTRPTRPTPRTPPP

A really ugly fart spat out on me. It wasn’t as eggy as Zack’s awful gas, but it was still pretty fucking gross. I coughed against his asshole, my stomach lurching at all of the gas I’d been sucking in at once. Even after months of doing this, I still couldn’t get myself to breathe in these farts without struggling. Lee patted me on the head and moved off my face, “Nice job. Can’t be easy.” He’ll never have to know just how awful it was to do this all the time.

“Alright Farty, that’s enough,” I heard Zack say. I turned and saw him bending over, pointing at his ass, and his ass pointed at me, “Back to your ‘office’,”

That got another chuckle. I hated having to sniff these other guy’s farts. The only good thing about being in Zack’s ass all the time is that I don’t have to hear everyone else laughing at me, and that I don’t have to deal with a bunch of gross asses. I crawled toward his butt and sat, waiting for him to tighten the straps and go about the rest of the day. Instead, he backed his ass onto my face, and told the others, “Hey, if you got one more for the road, Farty would love to at least hear what he’s missing, even if he can’t smell them.”

They understood immediately. Their belts clinked as they undid them, pulling their pants down, I felt each of them back their asses against either side of my face. I whimpered: there were three butts touching my face at once; Zack right on my nose, and Micah and Lee on my ears and cheeks. They all grunted and emptied whatever gas they had left. I clenched my eyes shut, and my jaw, and my fists, bracing for impact,

PRTPRPTRPTRPTRPTP
PPPPTPTPPPPPPTPPPTPTPPP
PRTPRRRRTTSSST
PPPPPPPTRRRT

I was coughing violently now: Zack’s gas was disgusting, but my entire head was being shaken up by their butts, and having to hear their assholes spit out more farts was making my already weak stomach do summer-saults. Their farts felt so hot and sticky, I wanted to throw up. And all the while they were laughing,

“How’d you like the fart facial?!” Lee squeaked, “Want some more?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed into Zack’s ass, even though he had pushed out another fart that went right into my mouth. My ears were ringing with more fart sounds from the other two butts, and Micah and Lee were as close as they could be, their cheeks smashed into each side of my head, squeezing me, someone’s hand was on the back of my head so I couldn’t get out. Zack had backed up enough that my nose and mouth was smashed into his crack, and when I tried to breathe in I ended up snorting. Snorting in farts like a pathetic little pig. The three were cackling like hyenas, their butts grinding into my head, knowing they could do whatever childish thing they wanted to do to me and would get away with it. This was hell. I was in hell.

Part 6

The day seemed to go by at a glacial pace. After the first bit of fun and games Zack had with his office buddies, he finally settled back down in his office and spent the rest of the afternoon at his desk. As if the Fart Gods themselves were having mercy on me, Zack had run out of gas for the time, so I only had to deal with his crushing weight forcing his musky hole against my nose. I was still shaking from embarrassment over what had happened to me that morning, how Lee and Micah had no problem “using” me the same way Zack does. I was afraid that, the more comfortable the other guys in the office were with watching Zack walk around with me dragging behind, the more they would accept the idea of me being a public fart sniffer…the position I’d rejected for this personal post.

I didn’t want to think about it. But when your entire day is spent laying down with your face up another guy’s ass, there’s nothing to do but smell and think.

His skin felt stuck to my own, his hairs tickled at my cheeks and bunched up over my nose. I hated how badly they made my nose itch. It would make me move around a little to try and scratch it against his asshole. Even if it made the smell seem worse, at least I could scratch the itch.

“Aw, someone’s happy,” Zack mocked, “always nuzzling back there, so comfortable and at home.”
If I ever get out of this contract, I’m going to pulverize him. Send him to the hospital.

I had nothing to do but wait for the end of the day to meet with Drew and try something, anything, to get out of this stink prison. Above me, Zack was focused on his work. He didn’t fart, didn’t say anything to me. As if I weren’t even there. No, as if I were there but doing my job: being his chair. I hated this. It was humiliating and boring to lay under him all day. From my line of vision, I could see the cusps of his butt cheeks, and a bit up his shirt. I’d counted his freckles for the umpteenth time. Then when I was sick of that, I tried counting all the hairs off his ass I could see. Anything to pass the time. Always anticipating another fart, cringing and bracing for those impacts.

Zack stood up, and like always I sucked in the fresh air. His ass funk still stuck to my face, nothing new there. He stepped to the side and said, “We’re moving, Farty. C’mon.” He bent over, pointing his ass at me. I didn’t fight him again. I rolled out from my hammock and stretched a bit before crawling toward him. “What time is it?” I asked, anxious.

“Time for you to get busy,” He laughed, “I can feel my guts gurgling. Nose in my asshole, bitch.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, since I was still anxious about getting my meeting with Drew, but I was also anxious about being on Zack’s good side. I didn’t want to make him more annoyed or mad at me like he was that morning. I crawled over and slipped my nose in his crack. He attached my harness to his jock, and tightened it so I could feel his ass cheeks suction over my entire face, again sealing me in deep in the most disgusting part of his body.

“We’re going to talk to my dad,” he said, adjusting the harness, “the meeting you’ve been fucking dying to have, so good the sooner it’s over, the sooner you start acting more professional.”

I really didn’t like the way he said that. He walked out of his office, me crawling behind, and again I could hear a few snickers from the other guys at their desks watching us, but I didn’t think about them. If Zack had known about this meeting all along, then he knew exactly why I wanted it, and that my goal was to quit this job and somehow get out of my contract. So, if he’s casually saying I’d “start acting more professional” …does that mean he doesn’t expect I’ll get my way? This meeting hasn’t even happened and I was already having a bad feeling.

But I’d been so lost in my thoughts and the routine, I didn’t even think about how we were headed to the meeting at that point, and so I shouldn’t be in his ass because I need to talk. When we reached the stairwell, I tried pulling back from his ass to speak, to tell him that he should let me out, but my voice was muffled in his cheeks.

 “C’mon, let’s go,” He was annoyed now, anchored by his ass at the bottom of the stairs, “Didn’t you want to talk to him?”

 “Bur I cam tak wen im don her” I tried.

 “Eh, I can understand you just fine. Come on.”

 This was ridiculous. It was like Zack was doing everything he could to pit the odds against me. I could feel the anger rising again, but I knew that I couldn’t do anything about it without getting into trouble again. I would have to hold back. I sighed, and crawled up the stairs to the executive floor. Again I had to hear men snorting, holding back their laughs, watching me in the most humiliating and stupid position. I could only see Zack’s ass cheeks, and his back and the back of his head beyond them. I felt them grinding left right left right with each step. The sooner this meeting was over, the sooner I’d be out of this world for good.

 “Hey Quinn, I’m here to see my dad, is he still free?”

 “Yes he is, sir, you can head on in,” the man paused, and laughed out a hearty laugh, “Is that what I think it is?”

 “Personal portable fart vacuum?” I felt him wiggle his ass a little against my face. The man he was talking to kept laughing, and it made me tremble with shame. I couldn’t take this a second longer.

 “Ugh, you guys are silly,” The man sounded like he was wiping away a tear, “Anyway, yeah you can head in.”

 “Thanks.” He shot forward and I was yanked by the neck through the office doors.

 “Hey dad.”

 “Afternoon, Zack. Where’s,” Zack turned a bit to show him where I was. I strained my eye looking to the right, and could see Drew’s surprised face beyond his son’s ass cheek.

 “Oh, why is he in there? We have things to discuss with him.”

 “Yeah, I know, but I’ve been having bad gas all afternoon and didn’t want to stink up your office.” Zack rationalized. But that was a lie; he didn’t fart at all after lunch. I realized he had to have been holding them all in so he could use this excuse to keep me in his ass during the meeting. Every day I was surprised by just how evil Zack can be, but this was a new low. I felt myself shaking, shocked, that he purposefully planned a way to keep me in his ass, in this humiliating position, and completely quiet while he and his dad discussed my future as a fart sniffer. This meeting was supposed to be for ME. It was supposed to be MY chance to fight back and break FREE. My face was boiling with rage, the rage that had been stewing all day. I felt Zack lift his leg a bit, and felt his hand grab onto my hair as he grinded his ass up against my face and grunted,

 PRPTRPTRPTPPP

 The disgusting fart felt sticky on my nose. The rage took over. Yelling into his asshole, I tried pulling back, again the harness wrapped around my head put all the force against my neck. I cried out in pain and hopelessness.

 “Calm down, Farty, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Zack scolded. I groaned into his ass cheeks, my fingers clawing into his thighs. He slapped at my hand, “Hey! That hurts!” I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted to tear off his skin, break out of his ass and beat him to a pulp. My hatred for Zack had never been so strong before.

 “Frank,” Drew said, calm but stern, “Please relax. What I have to say is important. I know you’re upset, but please have respect for my son and I and calm down.”

 It took all my willpower to focus on breathing, slowly, in and out, to calm myself down. Zack’s fart still lingered fresh on my nose, and in calming myself I had no choice but to breathe it in and deal with the smell. I kept my eyes clenched shut. Tears were forming again. My hands were shaking against Zack’s thighs. I needed to calm down, to listen to Drew. I had no other option. I tried saying sorry, but my words were muffled and lost in Zack’s ass.

 “Um, I’m sorry Frank, but we can’t understand you while you’re down there. I’ll get your input by asking yes or no questions. I’ll need you to sniff in once for yes and twice for no.”

 I felt Zack shake a little, chuckling softly to himself, as his dad continued, “And they need to be deep sniffs so I can hear them from here. Understand?”

Unbelievable. Why did I think I would be able to talk to Drew and have a serious discussion about quitting? He’s just as immature as Zack, just as evil as Zack, and even more powerful than Zack. I couldn’t help but think back to what Charlie had told me months ago, back when I started dealing with this company, when I was first tricked into being a fart sniffer, “life isn’t fair, and our office tries to exemplify that truth… if someone has power over you, you should make sure to be on their good side…”

“Understand?” Drew repeated, his voice bold and impatient.

Since I couldn’t say yes, I instead had to take in a deep, loud, vulgar sniff of Zack’s ass.

SNNNIIIIFFFFF

Zack’s fart was still lingering there, so I had inadvertently took in a big noseful of it. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the smell, no matter how many time I had to do it.

“Good,” Drew continued, “So, a moment ago, did you mean to say you are sorry for acting out against my son, and acting unprofessional in my office.”

I wanted to groan, but I needed to be on his good side. If an angry Zack can ruin my day in a matter of seconds, I couldn’t even dream of how an angry Drew could ruin my life within the same few seconds. So I sniffed once for yes to say I was sorry,

 SNNIFFFFF

Again, I had choked down a lungful of fart. But it was almost nearly gone, the strong stink was slowly being replaced by Zack’s general ass musk.

“And are you sorry for acting out the same way against him this morning?” Drew asked.

Zack must have emailed him to let him know about my ‘misbehavior’. This meeting was going horribly, I should have known better than to try and fight back. I was paranoid that I’d walked into a trap. Again, disgustingly, humiliatingly, I took yet another deep sniff of Zack’s asshole to show just how sorry I was.

SNNNNNIIIIIIIFFFFF

I’d sucked in the last of the fart cloud, and the constant deep sniffs started to make me lightheaded. I slowly let it out, tried to relax and keep my head clear. I needed to pay attention.

“I’m glad that you apologized, and even though I gave you such a hard time, I can understand why you’re upset,” I heard Drew clacking away at his keyboard, “As you make it clear in your email; you’re stressed out and you don’t want to do this anymore. Well, here comes the bad news.”

I kept my eyes shut, silently praying between Zack’s cheeks. I knew it was pointless, that he was going to give me some excuse for why I’d never be free from this nightmare, and how I have no choice but to keep sniffing farts for the next two years and eight months.

“The contract for your position is non-negotiable. We have to set it up this way, because the nature of this job can be so stressful and overbearing, it would be difficult to get anyone to apply for the role, and even more difficult to have them keep it. We can only trust that a sniffer will be dedicated to his work if he is legally bound by a contract. While I understand you’re going through a rough patch, you have to hang in there and power through. You see what I’m saying?”

As if on cue, with perfect comedic timing, Zack ripped another fart directly on my nose.

PPRTRPTPPPPP

I sniffed in deeply for yes, and to vacuum up the stink cloud. I kept sniffing, fighting back the gags and the same dizzying sickness I always got. It was useless to even try arguing with them. I would be stuck snorting the same farts for years.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell if you were saying yes or no,” Drew was cruel. I felt Zack shake a little, holding back a laugh, and Drew asked, “Could you repeat your answer for me please?” I couldn’t see Drew’s face, but I bet he was smiling through this whole meeting. I sniffed once more for yes, feeling more lightheaded and weak,

SNIIIIIFFFFFF

“Alright. Normally, this is the part where we’d end the meeting and you’d begrudgingly go back to your job…but Zack has told me you’ve been doing great work these past few months, and I have a proposition for you.

I thought my heart stopped. I opened my eyes and stretched a bit to try and see Drew, to see if he was serious about giving me some alternative. And based on Zack’s word! This didn’t seem true to me.

“Zack has told me that he’d put you through extreme circumstances; work out sweat, foods that cause bad gas, and even going above and beyond by offering to lick the sweat off of him. Something sniffers never have the stomach to do.”

That was a lie: I never wanted to lick Zack’s asshole clean, I was forced to, but of course I wasn’t going to say anything. For whatever reason, Zack was being “nice” to me, and it could be my ticket out of here. Or at least a shorter sentence. Just then, Zack slipped a quiet fart out, one that whooshed up my nose in a thick hot stream. I sniffed it, even though it was more sulfuric than the first few farts, while keeping my ears open to Drew’s speech.

“You show an initiative we would love to have available for the whole office,” he continued, and my heart shrunk, “And for that, I’d be willing to shave off time from your contract. From this day forward, you would be the public fart sniffer for the entire office, and that would include cleaning duties, and you would only have to work two years. That is eight months sooner than your current contract.”

PRTPRPTRPTRPRTPPPP

Zack surprised me with another fart. I heard him laugh, even though he tried to hold it back, and I went on sniffing the awful funk, my mind twisting, my heart racing. Even if two years was sooner than expected, it’s still two fucking years. And EVERY ass on the floor? Sniffing all those farts? And licking all those holes? At least with Zack, the humiliation isn’t so frequent. I only sniff a dozen or so farts from him, and he only asks for cleaning duties maybe once or twice a day, sometimes less…but if I had to work the entire floor? That’s around fifty, sixty asses, all of them farting all day, all of them asking to be cleaned…oh God no please no,

“However, my son really likes you,” Drew went on, my eyes shot over at him, “And he doesn’t want to share you with the whole floor. And he has a good point; the same services I just applauded you for seem too…exclusive and special to be given out to everyone. He suggested giving you the offer to remain his personal fart vacuum and asshole cleaner, 24/7.”

24/7? No way. No fucking way. There was no way I was going to devote my life to Zack’s ass. Fuck this. I felt the anger coming up again, but all the farts he’d just ripped were draining my energy. I needed oxygen or I was going to faint.

“And since I had thought of two years for a full-time salary, I figured a ‘round the clock servant should only serve for half the time, to make it fair for the amount we are paying you. So, under this option, you would only have to commit to one year and your contract would be up.”

…only a year? That’s more than half the entire term of my contract erased. That would be so much better than two years. But…oh god, 24/7?! For ZACK?!

“After today, Zack is going to make the shift to working from home. So he would no longer work in the office. You can either choose the longer time commitment, and serve everyone else in the office the same duties you do now, or you can choose the shorter time commitment and perform the same duties more often for Zack alone.” Drew added, “That would mean you would have to move in with him. All expenses paid for by me, of course.”

 I was trembling. This wasn’t what I wanted at all! I want to quit this stupid job! I don’t want to work overtime, day and night! I fucking hate Zack, I hate coming into work and seeing his stupid smirk, how pleased he is with completely owning me…I can’t sleep at night because of him. And to MOVE IN with him and have my nose in his ass CONSTANTLY?! No breaks to go home, my safe space, and a few sweet hours of relief…my nose would become a permanent fixture in his ass for an entire year.

But the other option?! I don’t want to sniff dozens of guys farts all day! I couldn’t bear looking myself in the mirror if I ended up licking so many buttholes clean…if that meant my tongue would be constantly coated in their sweat and shit residue…my nose would be clogged with farts, my tongue covered in ass grime…for two years…I was going to throw up.

PRPTRPTRPTPP

Zack surprised me with another fart. I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. I was crying with frustration, anxiety, humiliation, disgust, I tried sniffing this fart but it was too much. The stress and the funk were getting to me. I needed a break, I needed fresh air.

“So, I have both contracts written up, you only need to sign the one you prefer, and then I’ll shred your original one. If you want to be the office’s public fart sniffer, take one deep sniff. If you want to be Zack’s personal fart sniffer, take two deep sniffs.”

My hands were shaking against Zack’s thighs. I looked up for a moment and saw he was looking back at me over his shoulder. He wiggled his butt, my head swayed with it, “What’s it gonna be Farty? You want to stay with me? Or are you hungry and eager for more multiple asses at once?”

I needed to focus. If I stay at the office, I work the same hours, same Monday to Friday job for two years. Even though that would be two working years, that comes out to being less time doing this job, since a one year term with Zack is 24/7. But then dozens of asses would come to me during the day and I’d have to sniff up even more farts…a bunch of guys would pull their pants down eager to sit on my tongue. I couldn’t do that, that’s horrible. I’d be doing the same stuff for Zack, but not as often, and without the humiliation of EVERYONE in the office laughing at me and using me.

Being the office slave…pros: I would work less overall. I wouldn’t have to ever see Zack again. And the guys on the floor wouldn’t go out of their way to force me to sniff their farts, it would be more passive, on the back of their minds, unlike Zack who mocks me every chance he gets. Cons: there are way, way more guys in the office so I’d be sniffing more farts. I’d be licking ass more often. I’d be humiliated every single day by everyone. And I’d have to work for two years.

Being Zack’s slave…pros: it’s what I’m used to, he wouldn’t fart as often as the collective office, I would only be humiliated by him, and I can handle that better than being humiliated by an entire group, I would still get a salary without paying rent, and I only have to do it for one more year. Cons:…I fucking hate Zack. And I’d be working 24/7.

As angry as it made me, it seemed that staying with Zack had more pros than cons. If you could even call them pros, if anything they were me trying to be optimistic about the most fucked up decision I ever had to willingly make in my life.

“Remember: once for the office, twice for Zack.”

I would hate myself for what I was about to do, but that would have been true no matter what I answered. I grabbed either side of Zack’s waist, clenched my eyes shut in a grimace, and took the two most painful sniffs of my life.

SNNIIIIFFFFFF
SNNNNNIIIIIFFFFFF

 Zack let out a deep, “friendly” laugh. I felt his hand rub my hair, “I knew you couldn’t get enough of my ass.”

Drew walked over with the contract on a clipboard, “Either way, you do the company proud. I just need your signature here, and down there, and you’ll have to initial a few pages too.”

He handed me the pen. I could barely see the contract from over Zack’s ass cheeks, but I could see Drew smiling at him. Smiling because they both knew I was going to choose this, probably. Why wouldn’t I? Of course I’m going to pick one year over two. I signed the first page, he flipped it, I initialed a few spots,

PRPTRPTPPPP

I coughed, taken by surprise. Zack laughed freely now. On instinct, I sucked in his fart while signing my name on the last page. At that moment, my nose full of Zack’s fart, pen in hand, I realized what exactly I just did. Before, I was an employed fart sniffer, a personal sniffer, at the office. At that moment, I’d willingly signed a year my life away to be this guy’s personal fart sniffing slave.

I just gave up my freedom.

I chose to be a slave. A fart sniffing, ass licking slave. In that daze I dropped the pen. I felt numb. Drew bent over to pick it up, and lingered there for a moment, sniffing the air.

“You weren’t kidding, son,” He said with admiration, “He really IS good at this job. I’m only a foot away from the source and I can’t smell a thing.”

“You’ve seen his nose. It may as well been hand crafted to fit my ass crack.” Zack shrugged, “That’s why I picked him, remember?”

I cringed. I hadn’t forgotten what Zack had told me; behind the scenes, he hand-picked me out of a pile of resumes and files for the specific purpose to have me act as his personal fart sniffer. That’s the only reason I was hired. Everything that they’d orchestrated was meant to keep my nose in his ass alone. Even if I only had one more year of this psychotic game, Zack was still getting what he wanted. Spoiled brats like him always get what they want.

“Then, it’s official.” Drew sighed, “You not only signed a work contract, but you also signed a sublease to my son’s. Again, I pay for that apartment so you don’t have to worry about rent. And you will still receive your direct deposit funds. And since you’ve been such a good sport about all this-,”

“Debatable.” Zack scoffed.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Drew sounded cold.

“I’m sorry, father.” That was the first time I’d ever heard Zack so…pathetic. I’d have to remember that moment and keep it fresh in my head if I wanted to stay sane at the end of all of this.

“Since you’ve been such a good sport, and because being a 24/7 sniffer is such a grueling task, I think you deserve a pay raise. $25 an hour.”

A pro I did not expect coming. But it didn’t bring my mood up. I was crushed by the idea that I’d been destined to be a fart slave. This was the lowest point of my life.

…
The shift was sudden. Drew had taken the keys to my apartment. He told me he would call the landlord tomorrow and let him know that I’m moving out, but he would pay for the next month due to the sudden and unexpected move. He would also organize movers to take all my stuff out and put it in storage made out in my name, and would give me the keys to that unit at the end of my new contract. I would go home with Zack that evening. Per the contract, my year of service would start at 5pm that evening and would end 5pm exactly one year from the day.

Back in Zack’s office, he was putting his things away, pants on finally, while I sat against the wall, trembling. The severity of what I’d just done was crushing down on me all at once. I’m a fart slave, now. What was I going to tell my parents and friends? I’d been avoiding them for months when I could, dreading them asking about work. What now? There was no way I could speak to them. I couldn’t take the shame.

By contract, I would have to sniff his farts, and lick his butthole…for a year. An entire year of my life devoted to this. I remembered what Zack said to me the first day I stepped into this office…”I’m going to make you my ass’ bitch.” Oh god, he was right, I’m his bitch. No, I’m his ass’ personal bitch. I started to cry, and brought my hands up.

“Hey, cheer up, Farty,” Zack said, zipping up his bag, “My apartment’s really nice. It’s more north, right at the lakeside. Beautiful view. Though I don’t know how much of it you’ll be able to see really…besides food and bathroom breaks, I can’t think of why you wouldn’t spend time away from my ass. Sure you’re moving into a new place, but I like to think my ass is as good as home for you by now.”

I couldn’t look at him. I felt so ashamed of myself.

“Dad told me he’ll have someone swing by later tonight with a suitcase of all your clothes. You should have seen the looks on the movers’ faces when he explained why exactly you’re going to be rooming with me. Said it was the funniest shit they’d ever heard about in their lives. Didn’t believe him at first. You gave them a great story to share with their friends, you should be happy.”

The dread continued to turn.

“Anyway, I’m ready to go,” I looked up and saw, puzzled, that he was wearing his jock strap on the outside of his pants. They squeezed tight over his khakis. I didn’t get it for a split second, but the moment I understood, my eyes widened, “No, no no no you can’t,”

“Excuse me, Farty?” Zack raised an eyebrow, “The word ‘no’ is no longer in your vocabulary. You’re basically my slave now, so when I ask you to do something, it’s not really a question, it’s an order.”

I was shaking. I couldn’t believe it. He had the harness on his desk, picked it up and walked over to me. This couldn’t be happening. He was going to strap me into his ass…and make me walk behind him on his route home.

“I know what you’re thinking,” He laughed, I felt the fabric dig into the back of my head, “How could I fart in my designer khakis? Yeah, unfortunately I’ll have to sacrifice this pair for the ride home. This is your first day as my fart slave, I want it to be special for you. And the other question,” he turned around and fastened the fabric strips of my harness to the sides of his jock. I was only inches away from his khaki smothered butt, “I didn’t bike to work today. I knew you wouldn’t want to leave your favorite spot in the world, so I took the train. And I’ll get to show everyone on the train my newest toy.”

I felt tears running down my cheeks. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be real. I wanted to scream at him and tell him to fuck off, but I couldn’t. I was his slave, I had to go through with it. With a swift jerk, he yanked the straps and pulled my face into his khaki clad ass cheeks. My nose nested into his crack. The only good thing about this was that, since he’d gone pantsless for the entire day, the seat of his khakis didn’t smell like anything. His ass was just a warm pillow for the moment. He started walking out of the office, and I crawled behind him.

“Sad news is that when I’m out and about running errands and shit,” He told me, “I won’t be tying you in like this. Too much attention, the police would probably tell us to stop for the sake of decency. I mean, most people don’t want to see a fart slave in action walking around; it would weird them out. They’d laugh about it sure but still.”

I hated this. We walked through the lobby to the elevator. “Bye Ryan, it was great working with you!”
“Bye Mr. Schmidt, congrats on the promo-,” Ryan cut off and burst into laughter. My face went red, “Oh my god, you’re wearing him out?!”

 “Yep. Did you hear? He got promoted too. 24/7 sniffer.”

“Yikes, that’s crazy, can I take a picture?”

 “Haha sure, not something you see every day. Unless you work here! Hahahaha,”

They both kept laughing. I clenched my knuckles and my eyes shut. This was the worst day of my life. I heard Ryan’s phone camera click, “What should I caption this in my snapchat story?”

“A day in the life of Farty McFartFace” it rolled off of Zack’s tongue.

“Awesome. Have a good weekend.”

“You too,” and we walked into the elevator. I thought I was going to throw up. I would have to crawl hands and knees down the streets, into the train…how many hundreds of people were getting out of work? Fuck me….oh my god fuck me

“It’ll be tough walking down the stairs. If we go slow, you can do it.”

I wanted to scream.

I felt the wind rush over me as we left the building. The pavement was rough on my bare hands and cutting into my knees. I should have worn knee pads. But that would have looked even more ridiculous. Zack was whistling some tune. I heard people around me laughing. We stopped at an intersection. The laughter continued. I heard a young guy ask Zack,

“The fuck are you two doing?!”

“Oh, this is my personal fart sniffer.”

“…what?!” The guy laughed.

 “You know when you’re in public and you have to fart but you can’t because other people are around? This guy’s here to sniff them up directly, so I can fart whenever I want and no one has to deal with the stink. ‘Cept him, but he doesn’t count.”

“Jesus…Did he lose a bet?”
“Nope. He works for me. I pay him to sniff all my farts.”

The guy burst out into more laughter. I kept my eyes shut. I wanted to pretend that this was all an awful nightmare. That after I’d sent the email to Drew last night, I’d dreamt the entire day up to this point. But I didn’t. This was real.

“Man, I wish I had money like that, I’d pay some faggot to do that for me.”

“I prefer to call him my bitch boy.” Zack shrugged, “Or slave. No difference really.”

“None at all. Peace man. And…” he snorted, addressing me, “Good fucking luck to you dude, I hope for your sake he doesn’t have Mexican for dinner.”

“Might do Indian.” Zack replied.

“God! UGH,” the guy couldn’t stop laughing, “You’re evil!”

 We crossed the street. I heard more laughs and jeers from the guys around me, stunned, laughing uncontrollably, at watching a guy crawl behind another guy with his face completely strapped in his ass. I felt sick, because if this were the other way around, if I saw myself like this in the middle of the street, I’d laugh too. I’d take pictures and share it with everyone.

Climbing down the steps was hard, but we managed it. We waited for the train, again the crowd around us was full of chuckles, murmurs. I wanted this to be over. I wanted to be at Zack’s place already. The main reason I picked him over the entire office was because I thought that would mean slightly less humiliation. I was so fucking stupid.

On the train, I heard a group of guys approach us, “Dude, I gotta ask…what’s with this guy? Is he some faggot?”

“Nope.” Zack laughed, “He’s my fart sniffer.”

“He SNIFFS your FARTS?!” The friends behind him laughed and groaned, “That’s messed up, man,”
“Maybe, but it’s what I pay him for.”

“Wait, you pay him?! How much?” More laughter. The other people on the train were listening in and chuckling to themselves.

“$25 an hour.”

“Damn dude, that’s more than my boy Pedro here makes, hey Pedro, you want a new job?” They laughed, teasing him.

 “Man fuck off I ain’t no bitch.” My face was burning red. I wanted to get off the train.

“True. So dude, why do you need a fart sniffer?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I can fart literally anywhere I want, any time, and no one would smell it. Watch,” He lifted a leg. I’d been dreading that he’d do this,

PRTPRPTRPTRPPPP

“OH!” The group was taken aback, laughing like hyenas. I felt so broken. I sniffed up his fart, coughing because now they stunk fully of hard boiled eggs. The heat was thick against my face, in the fabric, and while the filter of the pants made it better than bare, I was still sniffing a fart. In public. With an entire train car of guys laughing at me.

“Damn dude, your gas is brutal. I feel sorry for that guy,”

His friend cut in, ‘Don’t be sorry for him shit he’s making $25 an hour!”

“True. Man I need to get me a fart sniffer, I have the worst gas at work and it’s annoying to hold it in. At home I can let loose.”

“Yep, with Farty here,” Zack pet my head while I continued to snort up the last of his fart, “I always have that freedom.”
…

PRTPRTPRTPRPTRPTRPPPPPPPP

A giant fart spat out of Zack’s ass and slapped me across the face, waking me up. I choked on it, and he shifted in his sleep, sighing. I guessed that would be my daily alarm clock this year. He slept in his underwear, so at least that was more comfortable than his bare skin. Also, thanks to his work outs, his butt was spongey, like a soft pillow. Two soft stinking pillows. I sighed into his butt, clouded in his stink. At least it was warm, even if it was gross.

After my humiliation on the train, the rest of the evening was much less horrible. Zack let me out for a minute so he could take off his khakis. He kept the strap on, but over his underwear this time. I didn’t have to deal with his bare ass yet, but still, I crawled around with my nose in his underwear covered butt crack.

He let me out once later to eat dinner. Like he promised, he ordered Indian food. I couldn’t bring myself to eat much of it. He had two platefuls and chugged them down with coke.

One of the movers came to drop off my clothes. And to see me in person. He laughed, Zack explained the perks of having me as his fart slave, again, and he even demonstrated by ripping a nasty one into my nose, and I had to sniff it up in front of the mover, who had at that point doubled over with laughter. I didn’t care anymore. That’s just what my life is now.

 He watched TV using my face as a chair, letting out a fart now and then. Then he brushed his teeth, and let me out to brush my teeth and use the bathroom. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. He tied me back in, and we went to bed.

“Morning, Farty.” He yawned. The sunrise shown through his window. “Looks like it will be a great day.”

I took in a deep sniff for yes.

“Hey about yesterday…so when I AM going on errands, you’ll be free to walk upright next to me. I’ll be going to the mall later today. When we’re there, if I need to fart, you won’t protest or argue. You’ll drop to your knees and press your nose into my ass, and stay there until you’ve sniffed it all up. Got it?”

I took in one deep sniff for yes.

“Good. Also, when I take my shower, I’ll hand you a bar of soap and you can wash yourself while you’re behind me. Since I can’t reach my ass with you down there, that’s when I want you scrubbing my hole clean. Got it?”

I winced. Not once this entire year will soap touch his ass. My tongue is his new toilet paper, his new ass sponge. I didn’t want to think about it. I just took in another deep sniff for yes.

“Oh, one more thing, Farty,” He laughed, grabbed the back of my head, and grunted,

PRTPRTRPRPTRPTPRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPP

“HAHAHAH,” he kept laughing, “Holy fuck that sounded like a demon. Happy day one of slavery, Mr. McFartFace”

I didn’t care that he was laughing at me. I kept sniffing the awful stink. I didn’t mind, because I would only have to do this a year. I was being paid $25 an hour, 24/7 for an entire year. I did the math in my head. That means at the end of this, I will have $219k in my bank account. Money I won’t even touch while I’m “working”…why would I? When I’m free of my contract next year, I’ll move away. Somewhere on the other side of the country. Up in the mountains maybe, or by the coast, wherever has the freshest air. Start my life over. Convince myself I’m better than being just a fart slave. So I sucked in the awful stink of Zack’s ass, of his horrible morning fart, and didn’t get upset over having to clean his ass in the shower with my tongue. Because it’s only a year and it can always be worse.