Fart Fetish
Sniff it up. That’s right, you’ve just become my personal fart cushion. Don’t you dare let a single, gassy emission make it’s way past your pervy, little nose. You’re sole purpose now is to time your breathing with my farting, sniffing them all up so I don’t have to. Loud and stinky, get ready to sniff!
Humiliation & worship
To ensure lots of farts in session, not only do I eat my favourite, gas inducing foods beforehand, I also use forced air to “encourage” my flatulence and your ultimate submission.
I don’t provide intimate worship of any kind for the safety of myself and all my clients. Therefore I wear latex panties and shorts during sessions. I fart either through those barriers directly on my subby or I’ll pull those aside and fart a few inches from your nose and mouth before covering myself up and plunking back down.
When I found out about fart fetishists, I knew I had found my people. I’ve always been super gassy, emitting super stinkers for ungrateful friends and partners. I’ve spent years wasting my toots, sending them off into space to spend a lonesome existence in the atmosphere. Now that I’ve found your nose, my farts can go there. Win-win-Pffft.
Here’s an excerpt from my blog…
‘Mommy’s Little Fart Cushion’
Ever since he was a little boy, he was always my favourite. He was like my little shadow, always wanting to know what I was doing, wanting to help his mommy. I loved when he was little so much! Such a sweet boy and everyone always told me how cute he was! When he hit his early teens, he started to pull away a bit, nothing terribly dramatic but definitely a sad time for any mother. He started to have his own little hobbies, he'd spend more time with his friends. He stopped talking to me as much as he used to and I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.
In High School, Marty was a good student, and a good kid in general, but I started to feel the distance between us grow with each year. By the time he started college I had become quite resentful over his entitled, distant attitude towards me. I'd been saving for years to send him to college, me and his father always provided him with everything he'd ever needed and it was so often met with the absolute minimum in return. I knew I should've just let it go but during his last visit, I did something that I probably shouldn't have done. I wish that I felt guilty, but I simply never have. In fact, I loved it, it felt great to put him in his place, to restore the power dynamic between us, finally.
