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            The instant my sister’s butt crashed into my body, every ounce of oxygen in my lungs was squeezed out like a popped balloon. Her rotund hindquarters made themselves at home, slightly malforming and seemingly inflating out as the peak of each bun flattened upon my torso, though I could still feel the beefy muscle tensed beneath the surface of cellulite and sweat-stained black shorts. My spine bent, my organs squeezed, and my face turned rosy from the strain as the blood rushed to my head. Mia briefly shimmied back and forth, settling fully into place, and causing the numbing discomfort to roll in a wave along my poor body. Her colossal mass at last in its resting place, she scooped up a fork and started shoveling in the plate’s contents, while I was left with only my head and legs poking out from under her, and in dangerous proximity to the orifice which would eventually provide the whiffy, fat-rich atmosphere fueled by those foods.

            Sadly, I was used to this kind of treatment, and though it was a rough experience being sandwiched between unyielding reinforced seat and perhaps the strongest, bounciest pair of female buttocks on earth, I endured it like usual.

            From this close-up, I was made much more aware of Mia’s body, not only the constant flexing of her glutes and the leaden weight of her statuesque eight-foot form, but the interior life as well. Specifically, the sounds. I could hear the gurgling and bubbling from deep in her digestive tract, probably inflating with air bubbles and raunchy abhorrent stench just ready to be released like a hot spring. This was standard practice for my sister, who over the time of her massive growth had effectively turned her body into a biological weapon of dizzyingly horrific aromas, but even this seemed excessive. Mia was only partially finished with this “snack” I’d prepared, which meant she had a lot of ammo in there already, and what’s more, it was disagreeing with her stomach even more than usual.

            Like hearing the first claps of thunder before an oncoming tropical event storm, I withered at these warning signs. Especially because Mia often arrives home already dispensing puffs of rancid air from her perky bubble-behind, yet today, her return was relatively clean. This could only mean my sister was holding back right now, though for what reason I couldn’t imagine, given how much the girl adores “marking her territory” with her unique, vile stench.

            “Aren’t you going to ask me how school went today, little bro?” Mia questioned with her mouth full. To drive home the point, she pulsed both glutes hard as she could, before letting the ass-flab flare back out. “C’mon. Even though I’m the bigger one, and the stronger one, and the better one now, that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a normal conversation while I sit on you.”

            “How was school?” I wheezed; talking was next to impossible with such a heavy pair of fleshy hills compressing me into a two-dimensional shape.

            “That’s so nice of you to ask!” Mia beamed. “Well, school was pretty funny, actually. I had a pretty big breakfast, as you know since you helped make it, with all the egg and sausage and stuff, and then lunch was pretty big too, cuz it was Taco Tuesday and I also got some extra protein and fiber from some jerky and muffins and, well… I have to admit I was a little bit gassy afterward. Just a little bit. Anyway, you know I like to just do what comes naturally, little bro, so I don’t distress my stomach, so there may have been some lady-like tooting here and there… maybe kind of more than just here and there, but still, only doing what I had to… and next thing I knew, the school called a gas leak drill, and everyone had to get out of the building!”

            At this juncture, Mia burst out laughing, causing her body to tremble and bob with mirth. For me, this translated to her globular caboose cheeks quivering like bowls of hardened jelly, making me reverberate at the same frequency, to the point that my teeth almost started chattering. The growling in her gut was getting louder and more insistent, and unless I was mistaken, traveling ever-lower on her astronomic frame. The time approached.

            “Can you imagine that, little bro? I guess I’d accidentally done a little toot in so many places around the school that they thought there was some big terrible emergency happening, like it was going to poison everyone! Seriously, little ol’ me causing so much excitement. It was sooooo funny, let me tell you, and I was just laughing in the yard while the police and everybody showed up. They figured out it wasn’t a leak after a while, and we had to go back inside, but by then I think I’d digested more of the food, so then I started passing some more wind, and not really the super-polite kind anymore just cuz I was so full and gassy. Then we had to go back outside again, and this time I noticed that a lot of my dummy classmates were all coughing and gagging while they walked. There’s so small next to me, you know, so I guess they just can’t handle breathing in a little bit of funkiness. Even the grown-ups, like the teachers and office people, were moaning and complaining and getting all water-eyed like they were crying. I swear a couple weak little people went to a trash can to almost hurl. Some of them even were crawling on their hands and knees, like there was a fire! Since they were down there, they looked even shorter and more pathetic next to me than usual, and I’m sure you know that that’s hard to do, little bro! They looked so stupid and funny, and it was so much fun for me, cuz honestly I don’t even really notice it at all, but they were all sooooo dramatic about it, just like you are sometimes when I have to make you smell me to remind you who’s in charge. In fact… since you’re so interested in how my day went, I thought I’d just give you a little taste of what my day was like in the best way I know how…”

            Finally putting the pieces together, my whole body tensed like a bear trap. Now I knew why she was holding back. I wriggled, hoping and praying against logic that maybe I’d manage to worm my way out from under Mia before the bomb, but as usual she was ready, and flexed her ass to its tightest extreme, making it impossible to even budge from under her. Then I heard the last gurgle, the equivalent of a large bubble rising to the surface of a liquid, and then the eruption took place.

            The horn-blast squeal of Mia’s loud, full-bodied, earth-quaking fart was immediately followed by a nigh-tangible cloud of wretched, eggy, noxious fumes all emitting in a continuous stream from her crack.

            Yet the worst part wasn’t the initial nuclear explosion of rotten, horrifying odors all blending together in palpable smog. Usually, Mia releases her gas in short, concentrated bursts of smelly ordinance, like any ordinary person, save for the fact that she separates her cheeks and forces out the air so as to be heard and smelt by the largest number of victims possible. This one, however, just wouldn’t end. Though not quite as loud after the first few seconds, the belching din of her far quieted into a soft, hissing whistle that was just as putrid as the first peal, yet now arriving as a silent killer, continuous and enduring. More than ten seconds had passed, and still I was writhing in the throes of balmy, digestive agony delivered fresh from Mia’s acrid GI-tract, and there was no sign of her stopping.

            I coughed for my life, but even limiting my breaths and cranking my neck all the way to the side in a bid for untainted oxygen, I knew it was impossible. Her fart had lasted so long, nowhere in this entire kitchen was safe from her raw flatulent odor. Surrendering, I inhaled the acidic zest of the air, sampling the oil-riddled flavors of taco meat distorted through her digestive enzymes, and instantly felt my eyes well with stinging tears, much how Mia had described her classmates, though at least they had the option to run.

My entire head prickled, as though I’d stepped into an overly-hot sauna, and considered whether it was possible to get a rash from being so close to ground-zero of a fart as lasting and impactful as this one, which was still squealing out, nearly a minute after it began. Inside, I could feel my own pitiful throat and guts contracting, begging me in fight-or-flight mode to seek safer ground. Yet I had no choice. The atmosphere of the room rapidly turned nauseating, poisonous, even warm and muggy, probably matching the equally tortuous environment inside my gigantic sister’s roiling stomach.

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