I hated my sister more than anything. I wanted so badly to hurt her, to show her an ounce of the embarrassment she’d bestowed on me. Yet I couldn’t. I was shorter, slower, weaker, and apparently less calculating than Mia; my sister had me beat on every front. And she was reaping the benefits.
Like before, a while passed in peace, where she was content to watch the TV and ignore me, now that I was serving her chosen purpose. Those sweaty shorts glued to my face. Occasionally, as reminder of her advantage, Mia supported her partial weight by planting her palms on either side of the desk, briefly lifting her ass away from my head. Before I could squirm away, though, she’d release the weight all at once and bounce straight back down on me. The desk groaned with the impact, and after Mia bopped my skull several times with her ass, I felt as if I might get a concussion. But of course, this was nothing compared to what was coming next.
The gurgles from my sister’s satisfied belly continued, mounting to a fever pitch, until the first trace of soggy odor cut through the usual haze of bitter sweat. I knew that particular zest: the rancid flavor of Mia’s foul air, leaking from her vigorous digestive tract. My parents and I had been under the influence of that smell for weeks now, from a thankful distance, but now I had my nose wedged up into the epicenter. And assuredly, the power-punch of that smell had only grown in concert with my sister’s body. It was hellish.
“You know, little bro,” Mia sighed. “It’s funny. Things change a lot when you start to grow this much. I mean, I’m just two feet and two inches taller than I used to be. So I didn’t think things would be as different as they are now, especially when I started taking the experimental treatments, but now it makes total sense. People look at you different when they have to look up at you so high. When they realize how much weaker than are than you, how puny and insignificant. And how they can’t do anything about it if you decide to use them… abuse them… however you need to.”
As my sister spoke, the first audible burbles of her farts came through. I shuddered at the eggy, raunchy note of the scent entering my nostrils, with nowhere else to go. The air, already muggy due to the butt cheeks heaped upon me, grew hotter yet. Mia released exactly three modest toots into my face; I understood fully now that she was in expert control of any emissions from her asshole. She could mute them, even hold them in, if she wanted. But she didn’t want to, and that was the point. I writhed beneath my sister, which only seemed to encourage her to lay down another warm blast of squalid mustiness.
“It’s not just you and Mom and Dad that are learning your places around me, you know,” Mia continued. She took my pitiful hands in her much-larger palms, coiling her fingers around, and held on with surprisingly gentle conviction, even as she kept ripping increasingly louder and Mexican-food-infused farts. “Everybody on the team is figuring it out, too. I have them get me things while we’re practicing. Water, towels, snacks, whatever. At first Coach told me I wasn’t being a team player, so I decided to have her do it instead. And she does. All I had to do was stand over her and smile a lot. Maybe I get a little gassy now and then, too, and since they’re all so short, it’s practically right into their faces. But what can they all do to me now?”
Though her voice was muffled by Mia buttocks squished over my head, I could pick up the explanation clearly enough. Strangely, it might have been the most honest speech I’d ever heard from my greedy brat of a sister. She was opening up to me, of all people, because she could make me stay and listen.
“Actually,” Mia carried on. “It’s not even just the team. People at school are starting to notice, too. I can walk down a hall, especially after I’ve had a good workout and a good meal, and everybody’s eyes are on me. Not just because I’m gonna take them all to the national championship on the court, but because they know the smell of success now. Hey, it’s not always super pretty and girly-girly, but neither am I. Am I, Hal?”
After I didn’t answer for obvious reasons, my sister clapped my back with the neck of her hand. It felt like the onset of a flogging. Startled, I wrung my neck from side to side, shaking my head no. How could I disagree?
“That’s what I thought. And now you know what success smells like too, don’t you, little brother?” she teased. Jostling her melon-like glutes again, and knocking about my skull, Mia took a deep breath. “But just in case any part of you was unclear. In case it’s not completely obvious yet that I own you, Mom and Dad, the coach, the team, and every tiny loser at school, here’s an example.”
With that, Mia unleashed a storm cloud of gassy vapors which seemed to rock the walls of the house. The echo of her fart, especially from my contained vantage point under my sister’s taut ass, was thunderous. And the repugnant flavor altering the very make-up of the air was double as impactful. Dense, rich, meaty pestilence smoked its way into my windpipe. I coughed and hacked, unable to escape; “helpfully,” my sibling patted my back to help clear out my chest and make room for another desperate gasp of her noisome odor.
Nothing I’d ever smelled in my life was on par with this. Every garbage dump, every old gas station bathroom, and every ripe Mexican food kitchen seemed to congeal in my senses. Mia wasn’t kidding. If this ascent toward her brand of adolescent totalitarianism was the mark of success, then this singular horrendous fart was her unquestionable calling card. One whiff of this, and anybody would be afraid of her.
“There you go,” Mia said lovingly, like she’d just given me a precious gift. “I think that’s a good way for you to remember who’s in charge now. It’s also the last nice warning I’m going to give you. Because if you ever lock your door again when I need to use your head for a pillow, then so help me, I will take off my pants before I shove you under where you belong, and then you will lick the smell out with that dirty little mouth of yours, until I’m fully satisfied. Clear, squirt?”
Tears puddled around my cheeks, from my anguish as well as the eye-watering sting of Mia’s nuclear flatulence. I shook my head as best as I could under the queenly weight of the sporty golden-tanned goddess who was, by her declaration, the new head of the family. I shuddered as my lungs inflated with more of my sister’s rotten, gassy, burrito-tinged stench.
Idly, I wondered if I would ever again feel I wasn’t suffocating.