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-Your Role As My Personal Fart Muffler-

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Now that I've wrapped up my live stream, it's time to have some fun with my personal fart filter. "I don't know what dumb trick you fell for to get you into this mess, but it's too late.", I murmur, "You're all mine now!", and I lean far over, hold the itty bitty man up to my spandex-clad *ss to honk a saturating fart over all of him. I stand from the couch and, once again, I press his face right into my butt cr*ck, before blasting him with another ripply butt burp. "Whew, you just know it's going to be bad once you're in there (AKA in my pants).", I laugh, while pinching my nose and wafting the air again, "And you WILL be going in there because, recently, you've been failing me, which is unacceptable, and puts you in need of some serious training!". I shake out another miasmic fart to bathe my new booty thunder sl*ve with, and maliciously croon, "Your training starts now!"

I shove him down the back of my pants and deep between my cheeks in preparation for the barrage of oncoming g*s. I alternate through standing and bent over positions to help aid in delivering the most bootylicious-looking of *nal-exhales. I giggle at the sensation of him squirming down there, but my giddiness is soon interrupted when my nose wrinkles at the repugnant bouquet that drifts up to my face, and I have to pinch my nose and flutter away the air with my other hand. "Ew, yuck!", I gasp, and in an irritated tone, I assert, "You're getting dangerously close to being on thin ice. There's going to be grave consequences if you don't start putting more effort into your new role.", and retrieving him from his snug booty-home, I bring him up close to my face. "Is there a reason you're not sn*ffing up my g*s correctly?", I question almost angrily, "We've been over this! I paid good money for you to not be productive like this. It's really not that hard. I shouldn't be smelling anything! That's what you're for!". I push him against my spandex again, rip a malodorous ripper, and sternly order, "Here. Practice! Sn*ff them up c*mpletely as if it's your oxygen."

"Oh, and stop crying!", I snap, "The last thing I will not tolerate is you crying!", and satisfied with my warnings, I proceed to mockingly talk about all the great stuff I get to eat so I can achieve peak gassiness. I also decide to share a story about the first fart muffler I ordered from A Tiny Embrace, in hopes it'll help sufficiently get my point to really stick. It has to do with how my br*tal g*s c*mpletely obliterated the muffler, melting away his skin and scattering his remains in such an extreme way that I was removing bone fragments from my *sshole for some time. "It failed miserably.", I say with a solemn shake of my head, "So, you really should be grateful that I ordered you indestructible."

"I'm so happy I also ordered you with a b*ll gag.", I provokingly tease, "I can only imagine how annoying you'd be if it wasn't placed in there.", and I reach him back between my legs to release another long-winded curdled bottom-snort to engulf my l*ttle plaything. I'm also pleasantly surprised when I feel my spandex move with the pressure of my g*s. "Wow!", I exclaim, "That must've been extra intense for you." and I bubble over with laughter. Then, remembering some chores that I've been meaning to do, I thrust my shrunken man back down the back of my breeches. I head towards the kitchen, while propelling myself along with each sultry steamy fart.

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-You Have One Job-

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"What sadistic company actually thinks of this kind of idea?", I ponder out loud while cleaning up my kitchen, "Shrinking down these poor unsuspecting men and turning them into l*ttle shrunken experiments.". I move on from that thought when I'm interrupted by another, "When do you think the last time was that any of your loved ones got to see you?", but I don't give any room for answer (I mean, he's gagged anyway) by bending far forward to pop off a deliciously wet-sounding fart. "OMG, that smells so bad!", I breathe heavily with a wave in the air and a pinch of my nose.

I continue on like this, cleaning my kitchen and belittling my fart muffler about various degrading topics, especially how he must endure my hot'n'stinky rear-end rattlers - no matter how rough and bumpy. Oh, and I'm not anywhere near finished. I have a significantly deep pool of these goading topics that I can pull from, including; how he probably wishes he could be destroyed, but (womp womp), luckily for me, he's indestructible; how poorly he continues to do at his one and only job of huffing up the fumes from my rectal turbulence, and how he needs to do better at it, because I'm having to pinch my nose or wave away the air to free myself of the noxious odor; and how I'm sick of having the same discussion about his constant crying which has been exhausting me to listen to.

Throughout all of this, I move around my kitchen freely, cleaning and farting everywhere, and in various positions or with dancing wiggling hips. "I don't think I feel like taking a shower tonight.", I mention in an off-handed way, "You know how I like to keep my body in shape, and I even got to workout right before the live stream earlier. Which part do you think will smell the worst?". I laugh and continue to bounce out the heinie hiccups, creating my own l*ttle fog of hot buttocks wind.

My giddy mood is soon dampened when I notice my muffler's attitude doesn't seem to really match mine. Feeling it's time to make another point, I yank him out of my *ss, and glare at him, before hissing, "I'm disappointed in you!". I drive him hard against my spandex bubble butt and release a way-too-wet cheek-flapper. "See?" I sneer, "Just huff it up! It's not that hard!", and I scoff when I notice he's started crying yet again. "You know what?", I ask, slightly fuming, "I think some really scary f*cking changes are about to happen for you, starting tomorrow! You see, an idea popped into my head while I was cleaning, and while you were failing.". Pausing, I study him before a smile creeps across my lips, and I purr, "I'm going to let you find out what it is for yourself then. Don't want to ruin the surprise or anything."

I laugh when I see my personal fart filter's reaction, and comment sweetly, "Aww, don't look so sad. You know you brought this on yourself.". I put him back for one more fragrant gurgler, and head off to set my plan into motion.

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This video is a part of an 8-DAY release:

1) 2 days ago , I released the 1st part.

2) TODAY , I am releasing PART 2 , with the contents of it detailed in the description portion above.

> PART 2 (this part) was meant to be released yesterday, but due to a lack of proper editing, I decided to dedicate its original release date towards fine tuning what I had missed.

3) In 2 days , I will release the 3rd part.

> Part 3 had also meant to be released sooner AKA the day after part 2, but I had severely underestimated how much work still needed to happen for it to be fully ready for release.

> I've been editing for 50+ hours since I had the realization. That's how much I value my creations!

4) 2-3 days after that , I will release two versions of the "whole video".

)( Version 1 will include all 3 parts, and it will also have a nice l*ttle discount for your patience.

}{ Version 2 will be with only parts 2 and 3.

> Since part 1 only has a handful of farts, it feels like it's less within the farting fetish category, and more within the giantess-shrunken man fetish categories. Therefore, I've made a version which excludes part 1.

> Of course, this version will still be discounted for your patience, just not as far as version 1 will be.

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> Well, it happened. Both versions of the whole video have been delayed for over a day. In managing this complicated and lengthy video, I’ve continued to run out of time to release each part on its original predicted release date.

> Please accept my apologies for these incorrect predictions. Regardless, I hope you still get endless enjoyment from what I consider to be one of the best series I’ve ever had the pleasure to create!

Face Sitting Große Hintern Riesenen Return To A Tiny Embrace - PART 2 mit C4s.com