Work Text:
Ame Braps
As Ame’s designated fart wrangler you prowled the hallways outside her office patiently, always on the alert for any smells leaking out. Sometimes, during very bad bouts, she would need to end her stream early to fart it all out properly. That's usually when you were called in, to help wrestle out the big ones. The smaller episodes she could usually manage herself. Today though you were waiting dutifully when suddenly you caught a peculiar waft in the air. It could only mean one thing. As the mysterious smell had forewarned you, today would be a particularly stinky, gassy affair. You waited outside until she had finished talking, (it would be rude to enter when she was still streaming) but you knew she would need urgent help shortly. She had just finished reading supers when you entered and Ame turned to look at you with a distressed pout.
“I can’t stop faaarting,” she whinged. “I had to end the stream early again…”
"Do you need some help?" You asked rhetorically,
"Tummy hort! Tummy hooooort! " she lamented childishly.
That was all you needed to hear. Ame’s stomach issues had only been getting worse and she needed help. "Alright, alright, hop on up then," you said whilst patting your lap and reclining into what she had dubbed the “release chair”. This was a common occurrence by now and Ame was not surprised or even coy when you patted your lap invitingly, "ah! Ok I’m hopping up," and she waddled over to you still cutely pooting all the way. You hoped she didn't shart herself like last time...
The worry was dispelled when Ames' precious pudding-like ass sunk into your lap and the lewd feeling of her shifting intergluteal cleft being wiggled around was a pleasant feeling unlike any other. Ame’s head laid back against your chest blonde hair covering you, her dainty legs short enough that they dangled betwixt your own. After making herself comfortable you set to work. You went about expertly massaging her elusive flatulence out of her swollen, excrement-strewn colon. The shameful pent-up gas that escaped was so thick you could almost see it, so bitter that it burned the eyes causing them to water. A strong, long toot reverberated through your hamstrings, shaking your bones such was the low bass of the fwooshing anal anomaly. They continued to emerge one after another, each more potent and filthy than the last. Like a child playing with a whoopie cushion, there seemed to be no end to the barrage.
BrrrrArrrrrraaaaaap Prrrrraaaaaaarrrrrrp
"Uhhhh, Oooooooh it’s a bad one!!! Tummy hort, tummy hoooort!" Ame moaned. The wet aftershock of her most recent shameful excursion stained her panties. Ame’s white pudgy skin was bubbling from subcutaneous bumps of trapped gas that you continued to roll out of her gurgling abdomen. Like a skilled baker, you massaged her ‘dough’ thoroughly, working out any sticky air pockets. These were not healthy farts, gastritis-ridden stink bombs would be a better description. How something so pretty could produce something so vile was a conundrum you had no hope of figuring out, she was the detective after all, you’d leave that mystery to her. "You know what those powdery doritos do to you Ame, geeze!"
“Oooooh!” Fffffbrrraaaaaaa rrrrppppp ~
Her delicate packages of methane were begging to be guided out. Your hands pressed and probed against her gelatinous flesh, searching for where her shy whiffy farts were hiding away in the deepest chambers of her stink-filled belly. Like a chugging traction engine, she rhythmically produced deep plarp after plarlp "there we go, nice and easy" you said encouragingly as you continued to help her along as best you could. After an hour or so, you could feel a really nasty one building up and that needed to be brought out posthaste unless the bubble popped inside her like a balloon causing more unnecessary discomfort. It was abundantly clear that she would need help pushing out the larger, more mature farts. You balled your hand into a fist and lightly punched her belly until eventually the noxious gas escaped her gut with a tremendous rapturous force Baaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrppppppppp~
“Ahhhhn~, it feels good when the big ones come out.”
At this point after enduring the torrent of flatulence, you noticed a moist patch developing on your trousers. Of course it was only a matter of time before the surplus of aerosol-like fecal matter would accumulate and you considered yourself privileged that your lap was collecting this luscious bounty. You decided it best not to alert Ame to this fact and instead allow her to continue to laugh and fart away merrily. Frrrraaaaaaaaarp announced her fluttering sphincter, "Mmmmmmm smells like Buba's dog food!" She wasn't wrong, it was indeed a putrid infusion. Like a Minoan labyrinth you had to carefully caress the gassy bubbles through a twisted path of fleshy tunnels. Upon exit you were greeted with the usual whorish Prrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrp and a giggling Ame. Like the thunder that inevitably follows the mighty bolt of lightning you felt the shock of her rancid fart against your legs before you could smell it. You couldn't help but admire her ability to store gas like a living propane tank, "It seems you've been eating well Ame, that's good to see."
"Yeaaaaah, I even tried some of Buba's dog food too!"
That would explain the extra layer of texture you were smelling today. You hoped this became a regular addition to her diet because the dog food complimented the taste of her usual dorito-scented farts. And taste was by no means a hyperbole, you felt you were having a meal of your own after being so intensely hotboxed by Ame’s heinous braps. The warm gasses filled up the room quickly and it was comforting to be surrounded by her most intimate airborne secrets. From out of her orifices and into your own. Fresh from the bakery so to speak. The two of you communed daily via this special ritual. Every second she sat upon you passing flatulence was a blessing. You entered a tranquil state, breaths deep and slow like you were drifting asleep.
"Very powerful gusts you're sharing with me today Ame, I'm truly grateful." She laughed, "There's plenty more where that came from!" and surely enough another torrent of eye-watering stench burst forth from her stinking anal cavity. Her rambunctious positivity was always a pleasure, you couldn't imagine a session like this if she is in a bad mood. Then after what must have been two hours through the session, she gripped your thighs, bracing herself for the final fart.
"Oh it's coming! The big gnarly one is coming out!"
"That's it now, let it all out."
" Here it coooomes! "
Prrrrrr "Oooh-OOO!" rrraaBBBBBaaaaarrrrrrrr "Ahhhhhhh!~" ppppppppppp~
Her legs stuck out quiveringly erect and she almost launched off your lap like a rocket such was the thrusting force behind this behemoth of a brap. You could practically feel her anus dilate as it desperately stretched to accommodate the torrent of fumes gushing out. Exhausted from the effort, she fell back against you from her erect stance, panting. Only small patterings of farts followed now, intermediately. By the end of the session she had damn near shit herself but overall it was a job well done, tummy pains had been vanquished without too much trouble at least for another day until she decided to devour a loaf of white bread or some other silly reason.
As you were walking past her bedchamber later that same evening, you heard her farting quietly in her sleep as per usual, you slipped into her room cautiously and gently placed a hand over her rumbling tummy until it calmed down, whispered goodnight and left without a peep.