FRATERNITY COUCH, PART III
This is a gay erotic story involving two adults. This chapter includes forced bondage and raunch. If you are underage, do not read this!
"Catch it, catch it! C'mon, get it! YEAH! OVERTIME!" Brandon shouted at the football game on TV as I was left to suffer under his ass. He didn't even comment on the fact that he had just farted my nose right out of his dirty hole; the game was all that mattered to him again. Apparently the game was going into overtime now. I didn't have much time to think about that when I heard Brandon talking again.
"Hey bro, what's up, it's Brandon... Yeah, it's going into overtime, can you believe it?... So dude, you are never gonna guess what I'm doing right now..." Shit, he called someone?
"Haha, that's right man... Yeah, all the guys are gone so I finally got the whole place to myself... Yeah... Yup... That's right... What are you doing?... Mmmhmm... Fuck yeah... Alright bro... see ya."
Since I was only able to hear one side of the conversation, I had no idea who Brandon was talking to or exactly what they were talking about. Did he tell this guy something in advance? Who was it? My thoughts were interrupted as Brandon stood up suddenly.
"Alright fag, commercial break before the game comes back on. I'm gonna go grab myself a beer and some snacks. Don't go anywhere -- oh wait, that's right, you can't!" Brandon laughed at his oh-so-clever line as he walked off to the kitchen, leaving me staring at the ceiling.
I heard some rustling in the kitchen and the opening and closing of the fridge. Brandon came back pretty quickly, clearly not wanting to risk miss any of the game. He held up a Tupperware container for me to see, but I couldn't tell what was in it. He smiled down at me as he told me about the contents.
"Forgot that I made up all these hard boiled eggs the other day to put on my salads. I thought these would make the perfect snack to go along with my beer, don't you agree?"
With that, he turned around and sat his naked ass back down on my face. The nasty sewage smell of his last fart still lingered in his crack and assaulted my nose immediately. He slid back a little bit and I was able to see very briefly as Brandon reached behind him to grab a blanket off the back of the couch. He placed it over his lap, effectively blocking out my light and trapping my face in with the lower part of his body.
"It's getting a little chilly in here, don't you think? I thought a nice, heavy blanket would help both of us stay warm. I won't let my little seat get cold. Enjoy the rest of the game down there, bitch."
Right after he said that, he ripped another long, airy fart right on my face. He let out a heavy sigh of relief and shifted around a bit on the couch, clearly getting comfortable for the game. The stench of this fart was much like the previous one he ripped; it smelled like sewage and pure shit. I very quickly discovered the minus to the heavy blanket. It trapped in all of the smells so that they couldn't dissipate as quickly! I was breathing in the same recycled fart air for a few minutes and struggling not to gag. The heat from our bodies was making the temperature under the blanket rise very quickly and I felt perspiration rolling down my forehead. I heard and felt him let out another airy fart right on my face.
"Aaaaah, fuck man, that beer always tears me up! You know what's nice though? I haven't even gotten a single whiff of those last couple farts. Guess it's all staying down there with you. See, I told you I wouldn't let you get cold. Bet it's nice and toasty in your new home!"
This one proved to be too much for me. Between the intense heat, the disgusting smell, and the layer of sweat that was starting to build up on my face and on his asscheeks, I started to get a little queasy. I started gagging a little bit and it just got worse with every breath I took in. I began to try to verbally protest through the duck tape to tell Brandon that I was going to be sick and that he had to let me out.
"What's all that noise down there? You'd better learn to be quiet and enjoy it down there. My buddy Nick just got off work and he's on his way over to catch the post-game show with me. You don't want him finding out you are down there. If you think I'm cruel, he'll fucking destroy you if he gets into using you. Just breathe deep, relax, shut up, and enjoy what I'm brewing up for you, haha!"
Oh shit, so he was inviting someone over when he was on the phone earlier! I tried to keep my mind off my situation so that I wouldn't gag and so that I wouldn't freak out about what was going on. I'm assuming that Brandon wouldn't want Nick to find out what he was doing, so he will probably leave the blanket over me. At this point I began to weigh my options. Would it be better to be stuck under this blanket with all of Brandon's nasty fart gas trapped in assaulting my nose, or would it be better for him to take off the blanket and have Nick find out? Maybe Nick would think what Brandon was doing to me was disgusting and inhumane and he would help me get out. I'm sure most normal human beings can't think that something like this is fun. My thoughts were again interrupted when I heard Brandon's cell phone ring. He answered it pretty quickly.
"Hey bro... yeah, it's open, come on in."
I'm guessing that must be Nick. The blanket is still over me now so that's a good thing, I think. I must have thought that too soon, because Brandon let a very short, very loud fart go right at that moment. As the smell began to hit me, I heard a deep, masculine voice in the room.
"Brandon! What's up?"
That must have been Nick. I was trying my best not to choke on the smell and to stay as quiet as possible. Brandon must have timed that fart so he could let it go right as Nick was about to walk in. That bastard.
"Nick, how's it going man? Go grab yourself a beer and whatever you want out of the kitchen. The game's just finishing up."
I heard a rustling in the kitchen and Brandon quietly talked to me which Nick was in the other room.
"Enjoy that fart, man? I tried to make sure I pushed it out at the right time for you. Gotta admit you did a good job staying quiet, but trust me, it's gonna get worse from here. Hard boiled eggs are not my friend, if you know what I mean, haha. Nick's coming back -- enjoy!"
I felt a heavy shifting on the couch, meaning that Nick must have sat down on the couch to the right of Brandon. He must be a pretty big guy based on how much the couch moved when he sat down. I sat quietly in my stinky prison as I listened to them talk.
"Dude, work fucking sucked today. I thought I was gonna get off on time to watch the whole game, but then a whole bunch of people showed up right before I was supposed to get off. Dumbass manager made me stay and wait on people through almost the whole game," Nick complained.
"At least you made it right before the end. It's been a close one man. I hope they can pull it out here," said Brandon.
Not being much into sports, I couldn't have cared less who won. I just wanted the game to end so that hopefully Brandon would let me out of this horrific prison. I sat there in silence, listening to the game in the background. Clearly the two guys were very into the game. I had no idea what was going on.
"Yes! Yes! Touchdown! They got it!" shouted Brandon. Nick started shouting similar phrases of excitement and I heard them high-five each other. While I couldn't see anything, it was incredibly clear that their team scored and they were both ridiculously excited about it. Good, hopefully that means it's over.
No such luck. They both calmed down and I heard the announcer on the TV stating that the post-game show was starting now. How long is a post-game show?
"Dude, I told you they were gonna pull it out," Brandon said. "Smith always pulls it out in the end. Remember the game two weeks ago when..." I was focusing on Brandon's conversation and was completely surprised when he let a long, airy, silent fart rip right on my nose. He just continued his conversation with Nick like nothing happened. "...was awesome. He'll pull it in the next one against Green Bay too, I bet."
Brandon must have planned that. He cleverly ripped a nasty fart up my nose under the blanket while he was in mid-sentence so Nick wouldn't hear it. I struggled not to make any noise as the eggy stench wandered up my nose. I got in one or two full breaths of the awful odor when Brandon suddenly moved forward, completely covering my entire face.
I heard some murmuring so I know that he was talking with Nick, but I couldn't make out any of the words since my whole head was completely covered. I realized that with the way he was sitting, I had no way to breathe in at all. Not that I'd really want to after that awful fart, but I was getting very desperate. I tried my best not to make any noise and not to struggle too much against my restraints so that Nick wouldn't know I was down there. After about a minute of holding my breath, my vision started to go slowly turn from black to grey... small squares and other shapes began to appear in my vision... I sat there silently, accepting my fate of blacking out when Brandon suddenly shifted back a little bit on the couch, allowing me to breathe through my nose. I took a huge, deep breath through my nose to recover air and got annihilated by the eggy smell of his last disgusting fart. While I tried my best not to gag, the huge breath of sulfuric air was too much for me. My eyes started to tear up and I began to cough.
"Dude, what was that?" asked Nick.
"Man, you aren't gonna believe it if I tell you," said Brandon.
"Try me."
With that, Brandon stood up, using the blanket to cover his nude lower body from his friend. And there, left exposed and open for Nick to see, was my face. My poor face, with my mouth duck taped shut and a look of horror in my eyes. I looked over to see a big guy to my side staring down at me with a look is disbelief on his face.
"What the fuck is going on here?" questioned Nick. "And dude, what the hell is that smell? It smells like someone died in here!" Nick quickly starting fanning the foul air away from his face.
Brandon laughed a little when Nick asked that last question. He must really think the smell of his farts is hilarious. He answered Nick pretty quickly.
"Nick, this guy is from my English class. He's a fag and I caught him checking me out. I decided that since my brothers were going out of town for the weekend, I'd invite him over and have some fun. I rigged up this couch, and then put him in here once I had him under my control. I figured I should teach him a lesson for checking me out and thinking he could get with a guy like me! He was supposed to stay quiet down there, but clearly he doesn't know how to do that. Oh, and that smell is from my ass man. The fag has been in a dutch oven down there since before you got here and all the air just escaped when I stood up. I had some nasty gas today from my protein shake and these beers haven't been helping much."
Nick started laughing at the last part of Brandon's statement. "Dude, you always have nasty gas. I can hardly handle that shit from across the room. You're gonna kill him doing stuff like that. Does he actually like it or something?"
Brandon replied, "I don't really give a shit if he likes it. He should have known better than to think he had a chance with me. I'm just doing what I want to do now."
Nick looked partly intrigued, partly confused, and partly disgusted. "I dunno man, this is pretty messed up. Are you sure it's not gonna kill him or anything? We could get in some serious trouble if anything happens."
"Nah, man, we're just having fun. You should try it out. You aren't gonna get another chance to do this if you pass it up."
I could see Nick weighing the pros and cons of the situation. After about thirty seconds of silent contemplation, his face lit up and he looked over at Brandon. "Well, I'm not sure about the fart thing. I don't wanna crush him and hurt him or anything. But it could be fun to make him smell my sweaty socks and rank feet and see if he can handle it. I had a long day at work today and I know they are always pretty foul when I get off. Probably almost as bad as your farts, I bet."
"That's the spirit, bro. Why don't you put your feet up and take a load off?"
It was at this moment that I knew I wasn't going to be getting out of this couch and away from this torture any time soon.
[Thanks to everyone for all of the emails and comments! I appreciate all of the positive feedback -- let me know if you have comments about this chapter or more suggestions. phonebook715@yahoo.com]