Welcome to my perversion

As they posed for a gym pic, Mike couldn’t help but wince at the smell of funky, unwashed ass at his face and the ominous sound of a stomach gurgling above his head. Since befriending the 10-foot-tall giant, he’d lost count of the number of times his enormous friend had ripped a deep, ground-shaking fart one so stinky it could make grown men cry only to realize, a second too late, that Mike at only 5'8 he was standing directly behind him, and took the full brunt of the blast to the face.

At first, his towering friend would furiously apologize as Mike reeled from the meaty rotten-egg, spoiled-milk stench of whatever ungodly combination of food had fueled the unintentional gas attack.

But as their friendship grew, the apologies became less frequent, and the attacks became far more deliberate. Soon, the giant began intentionally positioning himself in front of Mike whenever he felt the need to let one rip, looking back with a devious smirk before unleashing a deadly fart that sent Mike’s hair fluttering and covered him in a thick cloud of pungent gas that warmed the air and caused him to cough and gag profusely.

“Whoops, my bad, Mikey. You really ought to grow a few inches, little man anyone below my waist is just asking for a fart to the face,” he’d tease, struggling not to burst into laughter. While Mike's knees were buckling from the stench of the fart.

Eventually, however, he took things a step further. Whenever the mood struck him, the massive man would casually grab the back of Mike’s head and shove it straight between his doughy cheeks, the damp, smelly fabric of his gym shorts and the sour smell of his warm sweaty ass pressing directly agaist Mike's face. With an playful cruelty, he’d hold him there for a few agonizing seconds, letting the gas build up waiting for the perfect moment before unleashing a deep, long, blast straight into the shorter man’s face.

Trapped, with the giant’s firm grip keeping him in place, Mike had no choice but to inhale the full force of the hot toxic fumes, his muffled protests lost between the suffocating, musky walls of flesh. The first time it happened, he passed out in mere seconds the noxious smell simply to much to handle, he crumpled to the gym floor as his giant friend erupted in mocking laughter. Some blasts lasted only a few seconds, but others dragged on for a full minute or more.

Safe to say, that first time wasn’t the only time Mike blacked out from the sheer potency of the 10-foot-tall man’s protein farts But don’t worry he built up a bit of resistance, Eventually........

Did anyone else ever have a brother with ridiculously stinky feet?? I’m talking the kind you smell as he’s coming up the stairs or walking into a room. The kind of stinky feet that makes normal people cringe?

Did he lock you in chastity and rub them in your face constantly too? Demanding tongue baths and long luxurious massages on a daily basis after you finished his homework?

Life of a growing dumb hog. Lounging around, pigging out on food all day, edging and gooning on with your cock, stretching out your pussy. Feeling his body plump up, taking up more space. A slave to his own pleasure. Becoming less man and more beast as his prick, cunt and belly start calling all the shots.

"Insatiable"

Your stomach growled loudly as the clock inched toward noon, signaling that it was time for another meal. It was almost amusing how your body seemed to anticipate the incoming fuel, rallying its resources for the next phase of growth. The growl didn’t feel like a sign of lack or deprivation—it was more like a summons, a call to the food, as if your body had developed a language all its own.

But satisfaction? That had eluded you for years. No matter how much you consumed, your body always craved something more: fuel, rest, gear, sex. It was a relentless cycle, primal and consuming. There were moments when you felt more animal than human, mindlessly succumbing to instinct. You’d even had episodes where you blacked out, only to wake up with protein powder smeared across your hands and mouth, the gritty residue a testament to whatever frenzy had taken hold of you.

Now, as you sat there, the faint tang of sweat lingered on your tongue, your body seemingly recycling itself in some desperate, grotesque efficiency. You could smell it—trenbolone seeping through your pores, its acrid signature clinging to your breath. It was the scent of a life lived at the edge, of hunger far beyond the ordinary.

One day you arrived home from working a long 12 hour shift and were absolutely buggered. You just wanted to shower and go to bed. You walked into the kitchen and your dad was sitting there on the table, “Where have you been Mike? Matt has been trying to ring you!”

“Sorry dad, I had stay back at work. I’m just gonna grab a drink and head to bed, I’m so tired. I’ll talk to Matt in the morning.” You suggested.

“But you can’t let Matt wait son. He just got back from practice and he said he really needs your help with something urgently. Please go see him, do it for me.” Dad pleaded.

“sigh…fine I’ll go see what he wants then I’ll head to bed.

"Thanks son.” Dad smiled.

You grab a beer and head up the stairs to your brother’s room, you hear loud music coming from inside so knock on the door pretty heavily

“What!?” You hear Matt shout.

You open the door “Uhh…Hey Matt. Dad said you needed my help urgently, what’s up?”

Matt was lying on the bed, reading a magazine. You notice that he still had his footy boots on. “Ah great you brought me a beer, thanks bro. Open it and bring it to me.” Matt demanded.

“Well this was for me, but sure Matt you can have it. I’ll grab myself another.”

“Nah don’t worry about that, just give it to me. I need you to do something for me.”

You hand your beer to your younger brother. “What do you need Matt?”

“I’ve got a date later tonight with that bitch Jessica, and I can’t be fucked showering. I didn’t wear any socks to practice today so I need you to tell me if my feet stink.”

“uhhh…what…” You ask confused.

“You heard me bro! Get on the floor…take my boots off and tell me how my feet smell.” Matt demanded.

You hesitate and stand there dumbfounded

“NOW!” Matt screamed as he popped open his beer.

You drop to your knees in fright, just in front of your younger brothers feet. His footy boots looked enormous right in front of your face and you could already feel the heat coming off them. You could see the size 13 mark on one of the boots, your younger brother had much bigger feet than your size 8’s, it made you feel so weak compared to him. You shakily start to untie both laces and start to pull his boots off. It took a bit of tugging but eventually both boots came off.

The smell was absolutely vile, it was like being hit by a truck up your nose. You instinctively pull back and let your brother know. “Yeah Matt, your feet absolutely reek. You definitely need to shower before meeting up with Jess.”

“What the fuck did I just say a minute ago you dumb fuck. I said I don’t want to shower.”

“Oh..” you mutter.

“Clean them for me.” Matt said not even looking at you while flipping through his magazine.

“Uhh…ok…Let me go get some…” You were interrupted.

“Fuck no. You’re down there already. Stick out that worthless tongue of yours and clean your brother’s perfect jock feet!” Matt demanded.

He was just so demanding and dominant that you complied with his orders. You inched closer to his big sweaty feet stuck out your tongue and started licking your younger brothers stinking feet. Feeling so ashamed and embarrassed you start to cry.