catchthatfart

[catchthatfart]

CHAPTER 1

The Bully's Slave

 Michael  Austin

A desperate homeless man, Austin, is lured into a twisted arrangement with his former bully, Michael. What begins as a promise of shelter turns into a nightmare of degradation, as Austin is forced into becoming Michael's 'fart slave' and 'toilet slave,' enduring unimaginable humiliation.

Austin shuffled down the dimly lit alley, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind. At 25, he felt older than his years, the weight of homelessness pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. His once-pristine clothes were now threadbare and stained, a stark reminder of how far he’d fallen. Skinny and frail, he clutched his tattered backpack close, the only possession he had left in the world. The city’s neon lights flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the grimy walls. He was desperate, his stomach growling with hunger, his mind fogged with exhaustion.

As he turned a corner, a familiar voice sliced through the night air. “Well, well, if it isn’t little Austin,” Michael drawled, his deep, mocking tone sending a shiver down Austin’s spine. Michael stood leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, his muscular frame filling the space with an intimidating presence. At 25, he hadn’t changed much since high school—still the same jock with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and a smirk that promised trouble. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned Austin from head to toe, taking in his disheveled state with undisguised amusement.

“M-Michael,” Austin stammered, his voice trembling. The memories of high school flooded back—the taunts, the shoves, the humiliation. Michael had been his tormentor, the homophobic bully who’d made his life a living hell. Yet, here he was, standing before him like a ghost from the past.

“What are you doing out here, Austin?” Michael asked, his tone feigning concern. “You look like shit.”

Austin bit his lip, the words catching in his throat. “I… I’m just trying to get by,” he mumbled, avoiding Michael’s gaze.

Michael pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them. His cologne, a mix of sweat and expensive aftershave, invaded Austin’s senses. “Get by? You’re homeless, aren’t you?” he said, more of a statement than a question.

Austin nodded, his cheeks burning with shame. “I… I lost my job. I couldn’t pay rent.”

Michael’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and predatory. “Well, isn’t that just sad. Here I thought you’d have your life together by now. Guess some people never change.”

Austin flinched at the jab, but before he could respond, Michael clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I’ve got a place. You can crash there if you want. No strings attached.”

Austin’s heart raced. A roof over his head? It was too good to be true. But Michael’s offer felt laced with poison, a trap waiting to snap shut. “Why would you do that?” he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Michael shrugged, his gaze flicking away for a moment before locking back onto Austin. “Let’s just say I’ve got my reasons. Besides, it’s not like you’ve got many options, do you?”

Desperation clouded Austin’s judgment. He was tired, hungry, and alone. Michael’s offer, however dubious, was his only lifeline. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Thank you.”

Michael’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk. “Great. Follow me.”

The apartment was a stark contrast to the squalor Austin had grown accustomed to. It was spacious, modern, and immaculate, with sleek furniture and walls adorned with sports memorabilia. Michael led him to a small spare room, the bed neatly made with crisp white sheets. “This is yours,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “But there are rules.”

Austin’s stomach churned. Rules. He should’ve known there’d be a catch. “What kind of rules?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, his expression turning cold. “You’ll find out. For now, just be grateful I’m not leaving you on the streets.”

The first few days were uneventful. Michael was rarely home, and Austin spent most of his time alone, trying to piece his life back together. But on the fourth night, everything changed.

Michael returned late, his presence filling the apartment with an air of menace. He strode into the living room where Austin sat, his eyes glued to an old sitcom on TV. Without a word, Michael plopped down on the couch, his body invading Austin’s personal space. “You know, Austin,” he began, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ve been thinking. You owe me for letting you stay here.”

Austin’s heart pounded in his chest. “I… I can pay you back. I just need time to find a job.”

Michael laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. “Pay me back? Oh, sweetheart, it’s not about money.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against Austin’s ear. “You’re going to earn your keep. And I’ve got just the job for you.”

Before Austin could respond, Michael shifted, his muscular thigh pressing against Austin’s slender frame. “You see, Austin, I’ve got needs. And you’re going to help me with them.”

Austin’s eyes widened in horror as Michael’s hand snaked around his waist, pulling him closer. “W-what are you talking about?” he stammered, his voice shaking.

Michael’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into Austin’s skin. “I’m talking about you becoming my fart slave,” he whispered, his breath warm and foul against Austin’s neck. “You’re going to inhale every fart I produce. Every. Single. One.”

Austin’s stomach churned, a mix of disgust and fear overwhelming him. “What? No, I can’t—”

Michael cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Oh, you can and you will. Unless you’d rather be back on the streets, starving and alone.”

Tears welled in Austin’s eyes as Michael’s grip tightened further. “Please… I don’t want to do this,” he whimpered, his voice breaking.

Michael’s expression turned cruel, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. “Too bad. You’re mine now, Austin. My little fart slave. And this is just the beginning.”

Without warning, Michael shifted his weight, his ass hovering inches from Austin’s face. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Austin froze, his mind racing. This couldn’t be happening. But Michael’s grip was like iron, and the threat of being thrown back onto the streets was too terrifying to ignore. With a trembling hand, he parted his lips, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

Michael smirked, his eyes dark with dominance. “Good boy,” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension. And then, without warning, he let out a loud, wet fart, the noxious smell engulfing Austin’s senses.

Austin gagged, his eyes watering as the putrid odor invaded his nostrils. He tried to pull away, but Michael’s grip was unyielding, forcing him to inhale the foul emission. “Breathe it in, Austin,” Michael growled, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Smell my fart. Worship it.”

Tears streamed down Austin’s cheeks as he obeyed, his lungs filling with the rank scent. Michael’s laughter echoed in his ears, a cruel soundtrack to his humiliation. “That’s it,” Michael taunted. “Take it all in. You’re my fart slave now, and this is your purpose.”

As the days turned into weeks, Michael’s demands escalated. What started as forced fart inhalation soon morphed into something far more degrading. One evening, as Austin sat on the couch, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in his stomach, Michael emerged from the bathroom, a sinister smirk playing on his lips.

“Austin,” he called, his voice laced with mock sweetness. “I need you in here.”

Austin’s heart sank as he followed Michael into the bathroom. The room was spotless, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne. But it was the toilet that caught Austin’s attention—the lid was up, and Michael was standing beside it, his expression unreadable.

“What is it?” Austin asked, his voice trembling.

Michael’s smirk widened. “I need to take a shit. And you’re going to eat it.”

The words hit Austin like a physical blow. “What? No, I can’t—”

Michael’s hand shot out, grabbing Austin by the jaw. “You will,” he snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. “You’re my toilet slave now, Austin. And you’ll do whatever I say.” ’t argue, his body trembling with revulsion.

Michael’s eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure as he positioned himself over the toilet, his muscular legs bracketing Austin’s frail form. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience.

Austin’s tears fell freely as he obeyed, his lips parting slightly. The bathroom was eerily silent except for Michael’s heavy breathing and the soft whimpers escaping Austin’s throat. Michael grunted, his face contorting with effort as he began to defecate, the vile sounds filling the room.

A thick, steaming turd slid from Michael’s anus, landing with a wet plop into the toilet water. Austin gagged, his stomach churning violently, but Michael’s grip on his jaw tightened, forcing his mouth open wider. “You’re going to eat it,” Michael growled, his voice laced with dominance. “Every last bit.”

With a cruel smirk, Michael reached into the toilet, his fingers closing around the warm, shit-covered log. Austin’s eyes widened in horror as Michael pulled it out, holding it inches from his face. “Open wider,” Michael commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Austin’s sobs turned into desperate whimpers as he complied, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide. Michael didn’t hesitate, shoving the feces-coated turd between Austin’s lips. The putrid taste exploded on Austin’s tongue, the bitter, earthy flavor overwhelming his senses. He tried to close his mouth, to push it out, but Michael’s fingers pressed against his cheeks, forcing him to take it all.

“Chew,” Michael ordered, his voice cold and detached.

Austin’s tears mixed with the saliva and shit in his mouth as he obeyed, his jaw working mechanically. The texture was disgusting—soft yet fibrous, warm and slick. He wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but Michael’s grip was unyielding, his eyes daring Austin to defy him.

“Swallow,” Michael commanded, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Austin’s throat constricted, his gag reflex threatening to betray him. But Michael’s fingers dug into his jaw, forcing the shit down his throat. With a guttural cry, Austin swallowed, the vile mass sliding into his stomach.

Michael’s laughter echoed in the bathroom, cold and mocking. “Good boy,” he purred, his hand stroking Austin’s tear-streaked cheek. “You’re learning your place.”

As the weeks turned into months, Austin’s life became a never-ending cycle of degradation. He was Michael’s fart slave, his toilet slave, his personal plaything. Michael’s demands grew more extreme, his cruelty knowing no bounds. Austin was forced to worship Michael’s body, to kiss his feet, to lick his ass clean after every bowel movement. He was made to wear a collar, a constant reminder of his submission.

But through it all, Austin remained trapped, his spirit broken but not yet extinguished. Michael’s dominance was absolute, his power over Austin undeniable. And as Austin lay on the floor, his face pressed into the carpet, inhaling Michael’s latest fart, he knew there was no escape. He was Michael’s slave, body and soul, and his humiliation was only just beginning.