The Science of the Fart

Oh, how fucking embarrassing to write that title. Coz you *have* to know what’s coming right? Let me back up, though, to the very beginning.

It all begins, as it should, with Master.

And……it’s all Master’s fault.

I’ve pointed that out to Him, innumerable times. If He wasn’t so danged set on fucking my ass…well…you shove a pole up someone’s poop chute…. and that’s where the “science of a fart” bit comes in.

That’s not the only thing “coming in” as it were. (nor going out, as it were. But I get ahead of myself….you all know how I am with imagery like that!)

So I’ll say it again. Fart. Fart. Fart.

It’s okay. Laugh. I know, farts are funny. We laugh at the tasteless humor of them when we hear one at church, or at work, or at the bar, or in the movies. Hell, we laugh about farts ALL the time, right?


Unless they’re YOUR farts and they pop out at an inopportune time…

But I digress.

I was talking about science.

So, if you take an asshole, and I don’t mean your ex-boyfriend/lover, but an actual anus.

(I can’t pass judgement on whether s/he *is* an actual anus. That would be completely unscientific.)

So, to get back to your anus…. 🙂 . There in your butt, you have a long tube lined with muscles. At the end is the anal ring. That sphincter muscle has an important job…it keeps you from pooping at the mall, at work, in your car…where ever you happen to be. It will only release (as long as it’s working properly, that is) when YOU are in an appropriate space of your choice, such as your mother-in-laws living room…I mean…a toilet…*shakes head*…(I”m *such* a bad girl today!)

Ever see a dog show or a horse exhibition? Like during the Olympics when the horses stop what they are doing (or don’t) and just poop on the fly? They don’t give a shit where it goes. They gotta go, they go. 🙂

Not so much for us socially trained creatures. We don’t stop in the middle of the grocery, squat and release.

Thank you Anus!

As I understand it, for my Master, anyway, broaching that tight ring is quite pleasurable. For the sub…it’s stressful.

And erotic.

And painful, and erotic.

And embarrassing.

I mean, hell, someone is fucking your asshole. Your pooper. Your …well, there are lots of euphemisms for it. I don’t think I need to elaborate there, do I? Yeah. Okay, moving on.

You take that tight ring, stretch the fuck out of it….(yeah, that was a pun. It’s okay to laugh there.  🙂  ) and insert a rigid tool there…and what happens to all that air that was just in there? Not like your asshole is *inflated* per se, but there is a certain amount of air there.

Then you shove it deep up into the bowels. The cock withdraws…(yum. I like that part…unless He pulls it all the way out and does the whole re-insertion thing. Again. And again. And again. Bastard.) And what does He do?

You got it.

He shoves his fuck-rod right back up there, in effect, plunging even MORE air up that tunnel.

This can go on for a while.

All that airgas moves upwards until it hits a magical stopping point…and it halts, all confused.

There might be something else in the way sayin’…’yo, dummy…you’se goin’ the wrong fuckin’ way.’

To which the air would say “exactly!”

And then turn around and head back down.

You know what happens at some later point. It could be a short while, or a long while. But eventually… ?


or even


Or worse?


And do you know when the absolute *worst* time for that to occur is?

Other than church. C’mon, now, you guys aren’t even tryin’ here.


Right, you’re getting closer…

When Master has His head between my thighs.

Sucking on my clit.

Licking my pussy.

Rubbing his beard all over that sensitive place.

Making me cum and squeeeeze hard…and….



“OMG Master I’m so SORRY!”

I gulp, and snort, and giggle and BLUSH…

His head pops up.


“Y-yes Sir?”

I’m giggling and embarrassed and want the bed to open and let me fall inside and close up and swallow me whole….

“Did you just fucking FART on me?” There is a pause…

and then He yelps…


And then I’m hysterical with laughter, as I’m sure He intended. Of course,  He’s been teasing me about this ever since.

And then this comes as we talk a day or so later, recalling all the special moments of our time together…. and this um…not-so-special, albeit funny, moment.

“Oh nill-la”

“Yes Master?”