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One of the St Pansian players, having witnessed one of his team mates being brutally treated by a Rockvile Rotter player, was hiding behind a large concrete step. How was he going to get out of here safely? His coach was nowhere to be found. “I'm safe for now...” he thought. What he didn't know was that he was far from safe, for there was another mischievous Rotter watching him closely in the shadows. In a move that would cost him dearly, the coyote carefully peeked over the step to see if anyone was nearby. It wasn't until he turned back around that he realised he most certainly wasn't. “Ass Rush!!” was all he heard. His eyes widened in terror as two enormous round butt cheeks came flying towards him. There was a tremor as the cheeks slammed into the Pansian, pinning him completely against the step he had been using as shelter. Darius, a tall donkey infamous for being a real ass, had pulled off his plan. Number 12 of the Rockvile Rotters, he was yet another thug from the school who loved using his rear end to his advantage. He was so big that he often managed to multiple victims at a time, flattening them underneath his weight. “Aw yeeeah” mocked the jovial brute who had successfully used his big butt as a weapon. “You liking my signature move? It's like a bum rush, but I'm a donkey, see? So I call it Ass Rush- get it?” he asked, as if the recipient of such a brutish manoeuvre would be complimenting on the “genius” behind its name. “I love using that move on smaller guys...” But there was another reason why the coyote was unable to respond. The big donkey had aimed his rump so well that the poor soccer player found his entire snout wedged deep in the delinquent's butthole. His fingers barely made it around the Rotter's fat ass, but they were grasping away helplessly at the fleshy cheeks. “You're in luck, dweeb! You get to try out my brand new move, made especially for this soccer tournament today!” boasted Darius. “Just let me make sure you... are in... the right... position...” he grunted. With each pause, he forced his butt back further and further, ensuring the smaller player's face was well and truly packed tight up his ass, until only his ears poked out from between the concrete step and the hairy arse. The coyote could smell things he never thought he would ever have to smell. It was like his nose was stuck in a sewage pipe. But, as Darius warned, things were only going to get worse... “Aw yeah... here comes a big one....” said Darius through gritted teeth. The trapped coyote felt the tunnel his snout was trapped in begin to tremble, slowly at first, but quickly reached shaking point. Then, with incredible force, a torrent of hot, deadly gas blasted against the front of the Pansian's vulnerable snout. “HHRRMMFF!!!” came his startled muffled scream. The smell was unbelievably pungent, and packed such a punch that the coyote felt his nostril hairs fizzling away. But his snout was so tightly wedged in there that it acted like a cork, preventing any gas from escaping. His fingers began to scratch away at the donkey's hide, his body desperately making any sort of attempt to get out of the current situation. “A blockage, huh? This calls for a little brute force...” Brute force indeed. The hooligan grunted hard and exerted more gas out. This time, not even the coyote's snout could hold back the strength of the foul wind. Sulphur-scented steam hissed out from any cracks it could find at an alarming rate. The heated aroma caused the Pansian's face to sweat, and soon the gas leak was making noisy wet sounds. “Aw YEAH!” yelled the proud rude donkey. “Now that's what I call a Gas Rush! Get it?” He asked again. And yet again, the coyote was in an even more unlikely state to answer. His butt was STILL releasing gas. The seemingly unending fart was creating a smelly fog in the area. “I'm such a stinky ass, you know?” No response. “Yeah, you know alright...” he said sneakily to himself. Darius felt the fingers of his victim become limp, indicating he was victorious in his mission to take out one of his team's opponents. So much sweat had been produced that as the Rotter got up, the coyote slid out from his ass. He turned around, wafting away at the awful smell, and smirked. The dizzy pale face of the Pansian, reeking from his farts, was like a trophy in itself.

Krunch looked down at the small beady eyes looking up, and decided on a pretty good way to get revenge. Kelly always held it close to herself, but if the thing were to get dirty... He picked up the teddy, smirked evilly, and swung it round in front of his butt, before thrusting it forward and rubbing its face into the seat of his y-fronts. He moved it slowly up and down, wiping his long dirty crack with the bear's nose, the unpleasant scent being planted into the little toy's fur. Krunch laughed idiotically at his nasty prank. The little hard nose ran along a nasty skidmark, and even a not-so-small tear in the underwear, the face mopping up Krunch's ass sweat deep within the inexplicably sticky cheeks. He then brought the bear near his face and whiffed, before laughing in disgust at the bear's now-repulsively smelly face. "Can't wait to see her face next time she goes to squeeze a hug outta him..." he thought triumphantly. Of course, he wasn't done with the punishment yet, so he placed the teddy back, before towering over the seat. He then slowly lowered himself onto the seat, almost like he was torturing a real life thing. The big bubbly cheeks pressed themselves down onto the bear, the huge posterior covering the whole stool's surface area and hanging over the side. Krunch began to grind his ass further into the seat, the teddy becoming packed tight in the foul crevice that was his reptilian ass crack. With a twisted smile, Krunch turned his attention back to the tv and the big steaming hot bowl of chili in front of him. He began to wolf down the sloppy food, the cheese and sauce splashing back down occasionally. He eventually finished the food mountain, wiping his mouth of any leftover foodbits. He sighed in content, his belly now larger and rounder, what with having been filled up completely with cheesy nachos and all the leftover chili. Krunch rubbed his pudgy gut while sporting a stupid grin, when a long, particularly violent gurgle rumbled from within his stomach. "Hmmm... well it can't be hunger, so that must mean it's..." he said to himself, realising that his belly was now crying in disgust at being full of gas-producing foods. He turned back to face his butt. "Duuude, this REALLY isn't your day..." he said menacingly, before returning his head back, leaning ever so slightly to one side and releasing a disturbingly long gassy fart. It sounded oddly similar to the noise the squeezy cheese bottle made as he squeezed out its cheesy contents, ironically enough as he was squeezing out his OWN cheesy contents. "Haw man, that was pretty wet" Krunch guffawed to himself. The bear's entire head was ineed now moist with the combination of the croc's sweaty ass cheeks and the humidity of that absolutely revolting fart. The adolescent continued his flatulent assault, leaning forward to efficiently emit a huge gaseous stink cloud. The damp fur muffled the foul butt eruption, but the smell was only getting worse and worse. "Aaaaah..." he went on, unashamedly cutting more gag-worthy farts on his little sister's stuffed toy. Then Krunch put his hand over his stomach and grunted, pushing out a long, warm, humid fart. The teddy bear fell victim to what could only be described as a sulphur bomb, as the silent but very deadly flatulence blew right into its fur to its inside. "Dayum! You'd think I was frying some old eggs or something, phooo!" he laughed heartily and proudly, waving away at the rotten eggy air that filled the entire kitchen. Once his gas tank had emptied, he got up, turned round, and looked at the small squashed bear. It was being extremely slow at moulding itself back into its normal state of position. Krunch lifted it up again, admiring his handiwork. The teddy's face was now dirty and sticky, what with basically wiping Kruch's unclean ass through the tears in his y-fronts. Its body was wet with all the humidity, much to Krunch's delight. He then went to sniff it again, but he didn't even need to put it very near to his nose before he reacted. "Phwoooooar!" he said, holding his nostrils tightly closed while holding back laughter at the disgraced toy. "THAT'LL take a good while to get out" he continued, as he strolled back into the living room to the recliner. Before he sat down though, he stuffed the bear directly in his underwear, sandwiching it in his hairy smelly cheeks. As he fell back into the chair, he felt the teddy being pushed right into the depths of his ass crevice. He then smirked and turned the big tv on. "Well she doesn't like gross stinky boys, let's see if she likes gross stinky teddy bears..." Krunch laughed to himself, while continuing his relaxing day off...

Boomer wiggled his massive booty teasingly, wiping the coyote's face with his stinky ass-funk. "You learnin' your lesson back there?" he called tauntingly. "I think it's time you knew about my nickname here, kid." he went on. "See, I'm like a big tank. A big gas tank." The coyote's eyes widened. No no no, surely not! It's bad enough he was having his face being utterly squashed by this thuggish delinquent's rear end, but- surely not?! "They call me the Mean Green Fartin' Machine, ha ha ha!" he laughed, before effortlessly letting rip a nasty long gassy guff, which blew strongly past the small coyote's head. The younger soccer player's eyes were bulging in shock and disgust, as the unbelievably rotten flatulence continued to brush by his face. Then, an extra warm, highly concentrated sulphuric fart burst out, totally silent, but the stench was most certainly deadly to say the least. The coyote gagged as he inhaled this thick rotten-egg scented gas, coughing only to have his mouth filled with even more of the thug's toxic flatus. "Hoo!" the croc exclaimed as he wafted away the stinky air. "A Boomer Bomb, those are pretty rare actually. You should feel lucky, kid..." he smirked, before shamelessly forcing out another barrage of eggy-scented poots, each warmer and stronger than the last. The coyote's consciousness quickly surrendered to the ghastly stench-filled air, as Boomer's anus "kissed" his snout one more time with a final airy fart. "Ah.." he sighed as he got up, not even bothering to try to wave away the bad smell anymore. Turning towards the knocked out coyote, he said "Told ya you'd regret it. Anyway, catcha later at the match, heh heh" before heading off with a swagger.

Bruno smiled dimly at the situation he was in, happy to find himself sitting on some guy's face yet again. He was incredibly proud of his big bottom, and loved to shove it in everyone's face- literally. A few minutes passed while Bruno sat contently on top of the coyote, while the poor guy suffered and managed a couple more muffled pleas for release. Then a new groan cried out, but this time from the big round belly of the big bear bully. “Ah shit, think I gotta fart...” he said. The coyote didn't hear this, otherwise he'd have been panicking right now. Bruno changed his expression to one of deep concentration. Anyone who knew the bear also knew that that face meant he was preparing to let rip, since there was never a time where Bruno actually thought of anything. A sudden vibration caught the coyote by surprise, but the following pungent stink was what really shook him up. “MMMF!” Bruno's response was to rudely fart again, this time more forceful. The rippling of his butt cheeks shook the coyote's face like an earthquake. An ominous cloud of brown fog started to rise from behind Bruno. He could feel the being under him use all his might to move, but without success. He chuckled deeply. The bully kept on wiggling his butt now and then, enjoying the feeling of other guy's nose rubbing through his crack. The hot rotten gas bellowing against the smaller guy's snout was unbearable. His vision quickly became blurry as all he could do was inhale the filthy air. “Aw shawty, dis booty too funky for you?” asked Bruno in a mocking manner. “Can't you handle all dat brown town funk?” Indeed it was, as the coyote fainted from the toxic gas. Bruno still sat on him for a while afterwards, partly because he was still having fun, partly because he was so heavy to get back up again. When he did however manage to get back up, the bear snorted a laugh at the smaller guy passed out. Knowing how powerful his butt was gave him more happiness than it should, but it was Bruno needed to enjoy the rest of the day.

So this rude donkey dude caught wind (no pun intended) of the three big bad bears and their fart slave, Blondilocks. Borrowing her for a night, she is left to deal with the big hairy fella; earrings in both ears, a mini mohawk on his head, a menacing skull & crossbones tattoo above his bulging belly button, and nothing but a filthy black thong that almost served no purpose, revealing so much of his fleshy, fuzzy, smelly ass. He grabbed the small young lady, already normally tinier than most of the anthro population, never mind next to this giant ass. Blondilocks was thrown onto a large, not-so-white pillow. Evidently the donkey dude didn't usually wear underwear at home- nor bother with cleaning himself after going to the bathroom, based on the pillow's look and smell. Without so much of a word, he turned and plopped his ginormous donkey arse cheeks down onto her, smooshing her entire upper body, not resisting to force his full heavy weight down on top. Her hands just outreached the underside of either butt cheek, as she grasped away uselessly at the fleshy rump. Her face was instantly wedged deep up his arse crack, the stench of sweat and dirt stronger than before. Based on the heat and utter stink, she correctly guessed her nose was not far away from the big brute's filthy anus, the string thong providing no coverage whatsoever. The bully snorted in relaxation, not used to being able to torture some victim to the large smelly ass he had become unusually proud of. He even wiggled his butt from side to side while chuckling idiotically, before changing to scooching back and forth and pushing down, securing Blondilocks tightly up the entire stinky length of his crack. He then reached forward and grabbed her feet with one hand, and then reached back and grabbed hold of her hair with the other, before pulling both upwards forcefully, and pulling back and forth like he was wiping his entire underside with a towel. Blondilocks groaned and muffled as loud as she could as her entire face now wiped back and forth against the donkey's disgusting stinkhole, leaving skidmarks all the way down. The donkey's big rotund belly growled ominously, making him stop his motion, leaving Blondilocks' lips pressed up against his puckered round stinky filthy ring. He then giggled deeply and childishly. Before she was sent over, the brutish delinquent had stuffed his face all day with as much gas-inducing food he could- giant bowls of chilli, smothered in different cheeses and washed down by nearly two crates of beer. His moment of room-clearing flatulence was nigh. He gritted his teeth, and then exerted force on his stomach, a large volume of gas shooting its way towards his posterior. Blondilocks had no time to react to the the long growling sounds above her head, getting louder and louder, before- *BRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFRRRRRTT!!* Her whole head, along with the pillow, vibrated violently, as hot fetid gas burst its way like a volcano out his asshole, a large volume blowing its way forcefully into Blondilocks' mouth. It tasted as sour as it smelled, like hot garbage and spoiled milk and cheese. A long stream of constant warm, rotten gas continued to pour its way out noisily with bass like tremors, the almost visible fumes rising all around the donkey's lower torso. He snorted and smiled, before cutting loose more short wet farts onto his fart slave without an ounce of shame. He took a deep long sniff of the awful gas quickly filling the room. *Snfffff* "Aaaaah, smells good from up here. But a lady deserves front seats. Oh, here comes the main performance..." He leaned forward a little and pulled hard on Blondilocks' legs and hair. The heat generated by the previous gas caused the butt cheeks to become wet with smelly sweat, a pool of the warm dirty liquid forming on her forehead and in any space between her face and his hairy crack. This moved her nose downwards as it easily slid into his hot stinky anus, now lodged tight with no escape. As the donkey warned, more was to come, and worse. He released with ease an even longer gale of gas, completely silent though warmer than ever. The stink was worse than ever, pure concentrated suplhur scented gas released neverendingly up Blonidlocks' nose, nostrils ablaze and eyes stinging from the utter ferocity of the deadly stank. She had no power left to squeeze at the sides of his bum cheeks, quickly succumbing to the power of the smelly flatulence filling up her lungs. The donkey grunted long and loud, eventually leading into an exasperated sigh. The crazily long fart began to die down, the flatus getting warmer and stinkier as it ended. The smell was beyond words, and very worrying to be coming out of any living creature. The thick, hot gas rose slowly than before. When the donkey finally caught a whiff, he grimaced and laughed deeply like an immature man, trying to blow away at the eggy air trying to choke him. "Hoo hoooo!" he managed, coughing himself at the unbearable stink. "This bad ass got some bad gas! Fooo!" It was so smelly even he had to let go of her legs and wave quickly at the sulphur waves engulfing the room. He sighed and smiled stupidly, almost as if he were high on his own fetid fart fumes. Finally, he got up (farting once more whilst doing so), while having to hold down Blondilocks' hair to peel her out of his ass crack, a wet suction sound being made in the process. He looked back at the extremely unconscious young woman that was buried under his heavy rump, her body looking pretty squashed as she lay in the big crater left by his huge heavy ass, wet, dirty and with some hairs left behind. He smirked like an accomplished brute, still wafting away at the smell of rotten eggs rising from the pillow. The donkey smacked at his big belly proudly a few times and guffawed, before heading off to refuel himself. After all, he had her until tomorrow...

The poisoned wind globadiers of Clan Skryre are most well known for their affinity in long range warfare, choking the enemy from a distance with their use of distilled warpstone gas encased in glass globes to be thrown in the general direction of whatever they want dead. On a much smaller scale, they've got different ways to deal with a single victim - a clan rat that's acting out, perhaps... "Inhale-breathe my musk, underling!" the globadier squeaked, muffled by his gas mask but just audible enough for the clan rat pinned underneath his ass to hear. The clan rat, drenched in the combination of the globadier's strongly scented ass sweat and his own sweat, reluctantly inhaled deeply for fear-fear of further punishment. The rat's snout had been nuzzled between his superior's ass and robe for nearly half an hour; the globadier grinding back and forth and rhythmically rolling his smooth ring between the clan rat's nose and tongue. The skryre rat ensured his musky hole was settled directly on top of the clan rat's nose before barking his order, and the weakened rodent underneath didn't have much of a choice but to oblige. The scent was overwhelming, carrying weeks of unbathed musk and the torrent of sweat trapped in the hot cloth prison. The inhaling was punctuated by loud panting and moans as the clan rat attempted to catch his breath and find any fresh air underneath the globadier's dripping ass. "P-please, weak-small skaven needs air! Show-show mercy!" The clan rat pleaded underneath him, finding it hard to choke out the words past the intoxicating odor of his unwashed captor. Simply a moment of the robe being lifted would be enough for the rat, but he would simply find himself stuck longer if he tried to lift it himself. "Air? Weak-small underling needs air?" The globadier cackled, the machinery on his back rattling as he rocked around in rhythm with his laughter, smearing more sweat onto the clan rat's snout. "Clan Skryre has much-plenty air for underlings~ But you must lick for it! Myahahaha!" Immediately following this, the globadier moved his hand to the erection forming underneath his robe and began stroking through the cloth, coaxing a small amount of precum to leak through the fabric. He pressed further down onto his victim, smushing the poor rat's snout further into his ass and positioning his hole directly in front of the clan rat's mouth. Hesitantly, the clan rat stuck out his tongue, recoiling slightly as he touched the moist hole in front of him but slowly creeping his tongue back onto it. He licked up and down, slathering it with saliva and tasting the strong mixture of sweat and unbathed musk. "Not nearly enough! Get deep-further in there!" The globadier yelled, increasing the pace of his stroking in tune with the licking of his posterior. The globadier felt his victim's tongue press a bit harder as he prodded it into it. The globadier couldn't help but moan slightly as he pleasured himself, feeling the slick tongue delve into him. "Yes, yes-yes~ Keep going!" The globadier's moans increased in frequency, his victim's tongue thrusting in and out and continually stretching his hole. The clan rat's only motivation was the promise of air - but when would the globadier lift his robe and allow him a breath? He could only keep licking, hoping for mercy from his superior~... The clan rat's licks continued, frantically quickening in hopes that the globadier would finally show him mercy. He was becoming light-headed by this point as he was deprived of clean air, forced only to inhale his superior's musk and lap up his sweat. "Oh, yes-yes, the air..." The globadier divulged, "It must have drop-slipped my mind! Here, take some air~" The globadier followed his statement up with a quick blast of flatulence into the clan rat's open mouth. The vibration of his ass resonated on the clan rat's tongue, which was deeply inserted into the globadier's hole. The rat immediately recoiled, pulling his tongue out of the globadier's ass - but not quickly enough to prevent more of his superior's weight being shifted onto him, forcing his mouth to stay open and receive the skryre rat's farts. The clan rat tried to yell out, but the unfortunate position of the sweaty mound on top of his face prevented him from making any meaningful noise past unintelligible protests. "Nyahaha! Plenty-much air for the likes of you, yes-yes!" The globadier snickered, unleashing another wave of gas into his victim's mouth. To his credit, the clan rat found himself less light-headed, the makeshift 'air' offering him some respite from the suffocating humidity of the sweat and musk. This reprieve, however, came at the price of the elevated aroma he had to face as his mouth and nose were assaulted by a seemingly endless wave of powerful flatulence. The clan rat could feel the strong wind blow against the back of his throat; the warmth of which doing nothing to help the flow of sweat from the globadier's furred ass. This torment went on for what felt like hours, the globadier cackling and grinding his ass up and down on the clan rat's face, making sure that his scent would not be leaving the clan rat's fur for a long time. The clan rat had no choice but to endure, inhaling the intestinal gas and hoping he'd eventually grow numb to the taste and smell of it - a blessing that never came. The clan rat noticed the globadier above him grinding faster and faster, and could hear loud moans from above as the hole in front of him clenched and relaxed, releasing a small fart with each periodic relaxation. The clan rat inferred the globadier had finally reached climax, hoping that this would bring an end to his torment. "A-aahh... Yes-yes, you've done well-good, underling... Only four more to go for you!"

Purple light washed over the ground in a loud but sudden burst as Nasus appeared back at the Institute of War. Following every venture into the Summoner’s Rift, a champion has anywhere from a few minutes to multiple hours of time to spend lounging or attending to business before their next act of service to a summoner. Nasus, standing nearly eight feet tall in his stature, knew the Institute well after his years of fighting on the fields of justice, but he recognized a unique presence in his previous foray - a summoner he did not recognize. For the most part, a champion had a small but dedicated group of summoners that they were used by, so encountering a new one was a rarity that intrigued the curious jackal. This curiosity was brief as he spotted a bright red fox staring him down from the exit of the symposium. His eyes were locked on Nasus’s loincloth, a signal to the jackal that this was likely his newfound summoner with… interesting desires. The fox noticed Nasus’s inquisitive stare and seemingly jolted upright, hesitating for a moment before waving his champion over, retreating further past the doorway immediately afterwards. Nasus exhaled slightly, suddenly taking notice of how sweaty he had grown after his previous battle. His loincloth was essentially soaked through with sweat, sticking slightly to this thighs and sheathe as he adjusted the staff slung over his back and began to walk towards the exit. Once outside, Nasus spotted the fox leaning against a wall, making an effort to look natural as he stared at everything but the jackal. Nasus approached the fox, tapping the wall next to him to attract the fox’s attention. “Ooooohhh, heya! You’re ehhh, Nasus huh? ‘S nice to m-meet ya in person” the fox stuttered out, “Name’s Fyre!” Fyre extended his paw out, staring up at the jackal’s glowing blue eyes and forcing a wide smile. Nasus leered down at him, noticing the fox’s nose twitching a bit as if he were sniffing the jackal - the fox was around the same height as the soaked loincloth. Nasus extended his own paw, gripping Fyre’s extended hand and shaking it, taking special care not to exert too much force onto the comparatively small fox. “I am Nasus. Were you the one who summoned me?” The jackal questioned, though he was sure at this point that he already knew the answer. “Oh, ehh, yep. That was me! Big fan ‘f your performance, by the way. Is that uh, sweat on yer loincloth?” Fyre inhaled through his nose once again, reveling in the scent of the jackal’s musk but making his best efforts to appear as if he were simply happy to be there. The jackal nodded, amused by the fox’s attempts to hide his eagerness despite the evident growing bulge in the fox’s undergarments. “Battle precedes perspiration. It’s a natural cycle, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Nasus reached down and lifted his loincloth off of his leg, allowing it to sag back down after he released his grip on it. Waves of the jackal’s scent wafted into the fox’s nose, which he couldn’t resist audibly sniffing. Nasus’s deep voice interrupted his euphoria, “Is this all you had to say to me?” “Mmm, wha? Oh, oh, yes, eh, I was wonderin’... D’ya think we could go somewhere private a-and you could…” Fyre gulped, “S-sit on me? O’ly if ya want ta, of course…” Fyre nervously looked down at his feet, his gaze wandering up a tiny bit to pick up a view at the jackal’s loincloth instead. Nasus reached down and grabbed the fox’s chin, adjusting his face to look up and into his eyes. He dropped it back down again and tugged a bit, pulling Fyre’s face into his damp loincloth. The side of Fyre’s face rubbed against the jackal’s bulge, and he pressed his nose into the fabric to deeply inhale the post-battle scent. After a few seconds, Nasus took a step back, causing the fox to tumble a little bit as he attempted to catch his balance. Nasus adjusted his armor slightly, proclaiming, “Your will, summoner. Lead me to your room.” The fox stood up straight, his eyes widened a bit before eagerly rushing to his room with the jackal in casual pursuit. Fyre opened the door and extended his arm to welcome Nasus inside - a stone room furnished with dark purple seats and a plush mattress lying on the ground, tucked against the wall. A soft purple light emanated from the multitude of crystals imbedded in the ceiling, offering a welcome glow that spread across the cool dark blue ceiling. Fyre hopped into the bed, raising his head to eagerly look at the jackal. Nasus stepped over to the mattress, removing the staff slung over his back and setting it aside before slipping his loincloth off. The fabric dropped onto the fox’s face, a welcome gift which he greedily inhaled. The jackal was now positioned directly above the fox, a few droplets of sweat dripping down onto his chest and face. Nasus bent his legs down slightly, lowering his head over his chest and staring down at Fyre. “Are you sure about this, summoner? You might have trouble breathing down there…” He posited, “Why, I haven’t even washed yet~” Fyre nodded, opening his mouth and panting as he caught the scent of the sweaty balls and ass hanging above him. Nasus lowered himself down even further until he was finally sitting on the fox’s face. The soft, damp fur caressed Fyre’s face as the fox extended his tongue, licking up and down the jackal’s crack, swirling around the jackal’s sweat-covered hole. He took note of the taste of the sweat as multiple droplets accumulated on his tongue, all the while still voraciously sniffing at his champion’s butt. Nasus’s erection grew as the fox rimmed him, panting in pleasure as the tongue ventured deeper into his hole. $$$ This pleasure was punctuated by an ominous rumbling from the jackal’s stomach - signaled to Fyre only by some slight vibrations around his tongue. The gurgles grew louder before Nasus tensed up slightly and farted. *FFFRRRrrrrrppppPPPPTTT!* His anus tightened and vibrated against Fyre’s tongue as the gas escaped into the fox’s mouth. Fyre’s eyebrows shot up as he quickly pulled his tongue out, surprised by the sudden flatulence - however, this only served to further arouse him. The fox pressed his nose against the slick hole, rubbing it into the mixture of sweat and saliva and inhaling the lingering scent of the fart. “You like that, hm? I’ve plenty more, summoner~” Nasus teased, moaning slightly halfway through as the fox continued rubbing his nose into the jackal’s ass. This statement was quickly followed up by a few quick farts into the fox’s nose, starting off short and loud and tapering into longer, more pronounced bursts. FFBBBBLLLLRRRRMMmmmpppt! Vibrations from the flatus surrounded Fyre’s head, which was by now wedged tightly between the jackal’s sweaty cheeks. Fyre continued to deeply inhale the farts, each breath offering him a wonderful moment of pleasure underneath his champion - so much he nearly forgot to keep breathing regularly through his mouth. The gassy assault continued on for a time, with the fox’s erection throbbing almost painfully from arousal with each fart he inhaled. Fyre could feel himself growing closer to climax; one more release from the jackal would certainly get him there. “I’m, ah, gettin’ c-close…” He panted, his hot breath only furthering the humid space underneath Nasus’s ass. Nasus responded in kind - clutching his gurgling stomach with one hand and the fox’s erection in his other. He rubbed up and down on both of them before tensing up slightly, unleashing a long barrage of flatulence which Fyre pressed his muzzle deeper into the ass to sniff up. FRRRT! BRRRRMMMPT! FRRAARPPT! The smell alone was enough to bring Fyre to climax, but Nasus’s stroking certainly didn’t hurt as the fox tensed up and came. Ropes of cum splattered against the mattress as Nasus continued to fart, filling the fox’s mind with a cacophony of satisfaction on both ends. When the fox finally finished his orgasm, Nasus let go of his erection and sat for a moment, releasing one final PFFT! into the dazed fox’s nose. He lifted himself off of Fyre, sweat strands trailing between his nose and the jackal’s ass. Nasus reached down for his loincloth and grabbed his staff, preparing to head off for a shower. “Select me again soon, summoner. I’ll be heading out now”