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-Your Role As My Personal Fart Muffler-

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Now that I've wrapped up my live stream, it's time to have some fun with my personal fart filter. "I don't know what dumb trick you fell for to get you into this mess, but it's too late.", I murmur, "You're all mine now!", and I lean far over, hold the itty bitty man up to my spandex-clad ass to honk a saturating fart over all of him. I stand from the couch and, once again, I press his face right into my butt crack, before blasting...

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-Your Role As My Personal Fart Muffler-

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Now that I've wrapped up my live stream, it's time to have some fun with my personal fart filter. "I don't know what dumb trick you fell for to get you into this mess, but it's too late.", I murmur, "You're all mine now!", and I lean far over, hold the itty bitty man up to my spandex-clad ass to honk a saturating fart over all of him. I stand from the couch and, once again, I press his face right into my butt crack, before blasting him with another ripply butt burp. "Whew, you just know it's going to be bad once you're in there (AKA in my pants).", I laugh, while pinching my nose and wafting the air again, "And you WILL be going in there because, recently, you've been failing me, which is unacceptable, and puts you in need of some serious training!". I shake out another miasmic fart to bathe my new booty thunder slave with, and maliciously croon, "Your training starts now!"

I shove him down the back of my pants and deep between my cheeks in preparation for the barrage of oncoming gas. I alternate through standing and bent over positions to help aid in delivering the most bootylicious-looking of anal-exhales. I giggle at the sensation of him squirming down there, but my giddiness is soon interrupted when my nose wrinkles at the repugnant bouquet that drifts up to my face, and I have to pinch my nose and flutter away the air with my other hand. "Ew, yuck!", I gasp, and in an irritated tone, I assert, "You're getting dangerously close to being on thin ice. There's going to be grave consequences if you don't start putting more effort into your new role.", and retrieving him from his snug booty-home, I bring him up close to my face. "Is there a reason you're not sniffing up my gas correctly?", I question almost angrily, "We've been over this! I paid good money for you to not be productive like this. It's really not that hard. I shouldn't be smelling anything! That's what you're for!". I push him against my spandex again, rip a malodorous ripper, and sternly order, "Here. Practice! Sniff them up completely as if it's your oxygen."

"Oh, and stop crying!", I snap, "The last thing I will not tolerate is you crying!", and satisfied with my warnings, I proceed to mockingly talk about all the great stuff I get to eat so I can achieve peak gassiness. I also decide to share a story about the first fart muffler I ordered from A Tiny Embrace, in hopes it'll help sufficiently get my point to really stick. It has to do with how my brutal gas completely obliterated the muffler, melting away his skin and scattering his remains in such an extreme way that I was removing bone fragments from my asshole for some time. "It failed miserably.", I say with a solemn shake of my head, "So, you really should be grateful that I ordered you indestructible."

"I'm so happy I also ordered you with a ball gag.", I provokingly tease, "I can only imagine how annoying you'd be if it wasn't placed in there.", and I reach him back between my legs to release another long-winded curdled bottom-snort to engulf my little plaything. I'm also pleasantly surprised when I feel my spandex move with the pressure of my gas. "Wow!", I exclaim, "That must've been extra intense for you." and I bubble over with laughter. Then, remembering some chores that I've been meaning to do, I thrust my shrunken man back down the back of my breeches. I head towards the kitchen, while propelling myself along with each sultry steamy fart.

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-You Have One Job-

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"What sadistic company actually thinks of this kind of idea?", I ponder out loud while cleaning up my kitchen, "Shrinking down these poor unsuspecting men and turning them into little shrunken experiments.". I move on from that thought when I'm interrupted by another, "When do you think the last time was that any of your loved ones got to see you?", but I don't give any room for answer (I mean, he's gagged anyway) by bending far forward to pop off a deliciously wet-sounding fart. "OMG, that smells so bad!", I breathe heavily with a wave in the air and a pinch of my nose.

I continue on like this, cleaning my kitchen and belittling my fart muffler about various degrading topics, especially how he must endure my hot'n'stinky rear-end rattlers - no matter how rough and bumpy. Oh, and I'm not anywhere near finished. I have a significantly deep pool of these goading topics that I can pull from, including; how he probably wishes he could be destroyed, but (womp womp), luckily for me, he's indestructible; how poorly he continues to do at his one and only job of huffing up the fumes from my rectal turbulence, and how he needs to do better at it, because I'm having to pinch my nose or wave away the air to free myself of the noxious odor; and how I'm sick of having the same discussion about his constant crying which has been exhausting me to listen to.

Throughout all of this, I move around my kitchen freely, cleaning and farting everywhere, and in various positions or with dancing wiggling hips. "I don't think I feel like taking a shower tonight.", I mention in an off-handed way, "You know how I like to keep my body in shape, and I even got to workout right before the live stream earlier. Which part do you think will smell the worst?". I laugh and continue to bounce out the heinie hiccups, creating my own little fog of hot buttocks wind.

My giddy mood is soon dampened when I notice my muffler's attitude doesn't seem to really match mine. Feeling it's time to make another point, I yank him out of my ass, and glare at him, before hissing, "I'm disappointed in you!". I drive him hard against my spandex bubble butt and release a way-too-wet cheek-flapper. "See?" I sneer, "Just huff it up! It's not that hard!", and I scoff when I notice he's started crying yet again. "You know what?", I ask, slightly fuming, "I think some really scary fucking changes are about to happen for you, starting tomorrow! You see, an idea popped into my head while I was cleaning, and while you were failing.". Pausing, I study him before a smile creeps across my lips, and I purr, "I'm going to let you find out what it is for yourself then. Don't want to ruin the surprise or anything."

I laugh when I see my personal fart filter's reaction, and comment sweetly, "Aww, don't look so sad. You know you brought this on yourself.". I put him back for one more fragrant gurgler, and head off to set my plan into motion.

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-What The Fuck Modifications-

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It's a few days later and I'm about to do another live stream with my fans. I'm sprawled out on my couch wearing a pair of cutoff high-waisted jean shorts and a white tank top. I give a summary of everything that's happened, especially how my fart filter had been failing at being a fart filter. "It just wasn't working out", I mutter gravely, before looking up at the camera with a sly grin, "I had the realization that I've been going about this whole situation the wrong way. I thought that if I could get A Tiny Embrace to modify my fart filter to look more like a fart filter, then perhaps he'd act more like a fart filter.".

I realize this could sound confusing, so I go on to explain, along with a demonstration. I reveal that my desire was to have a shrunken man who was also a futuristic tool that would suck up all of my farts, but not make any sort of sound or smell. I have with me my little red box and I open it to take out my new modified toy. Holding him up to the camera, I detail all of the new improvements. The first was to have his mouth sewn shut, which means he has no choice but to breathe through his nose. I wasn't a fan of the tape or ball gag because they could fail, which was super annoying and I needed a solution for it ( remember the foreshadowing I mentioned? ). I point out that he doesn't have any arms anymore and his skin has been replaced with this black rubbery substance, which expands like a balloon when he breathes my gas. I also explain how they removed his bones to allow enough room for his lungs to expand. The part I'm really excited about is that when he starts to deflate, the rubbery substance will give off a citrusy scent, and boom, no more smell.

Barely containing my excitement at sharing the rest, I sit up and announce, "Now we get to what I like call 'What The Fuck' modifications.", and I smile wickedly before continuing to detail some super fucked up modifications: his senses have been magnified 5 fold ( which I'm sure we all know why *wink wink* ); he's been castrated; and he is forever awake. What the fuck, right? "He's just going to have to get used to his new life as my personal giantess sex toy.", I go on nonchalantly, "Unable to move or rest, and no more complaining!", and I bounce up and down in my delight. "Oh, and it's PERMANENT!", I burst while practically vibrating with exhilarating electricity, "No way to reverse it!". I give a shuddering moan as I recount what an experience it is to have him shoved up my asshole and have his balloon-like body expanding as he takes every little bit of my repugnant fumes into his lungs.

Throughout all of this, I'm letting loose one long bassy bubbler after another, usually right after I've made a point or shared something exciting - which is kind of throughout the entire live stream . Pointing out that I apparently have a lot to give right now - the continuous stream of butt belching - I decide it's time to go so I can handle this gassy business. But not before saying goodbye with a wink and one last booty ripper.

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-Modification Obsession-

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It's been about 2 weeks, and I bob into view, propelled along by a ponytail bouncing trouser-trumpet, wearing a dark grey pair of short shorts, that happen to cup perfectly right under my round cheeks, and a light gray tank top. I have a black box with me, much like the red one, so we can only imagine what's inside. I babble about how much fun I had modifying my last shrunken man, and how I found the urge to continue experimenting absolutely irresistible. When I pop open the box, it becomes apparent that there are several tiny men inside. I ponderously fish around inside and select the one I think should work for today's purpose. Bringing him close to my face, I let him know that I understand he must have loads of questions, and I promise to explain everything soon. I end this remark with a nice long wet ripper flapping out of my backside.

I grab 2 more small boxes, a silver one, and the red one from before. Opening the red box first, I pull out WTF Modification Guy, and opening the silver box next, I remove a different guy who is all taped up ( much like the 1st one used to be ). I hold up all three next to each other, with the new unmodified one facing the other 2. "Do you see these 2?", I question the new arrival, "They used to be just like you. This one - and I hold up my indestructible rubbery balloon guy - failed me repeatedly.", which I proceed to list off just how I was failed by him and what happened as a result - AKA the WTF Modifications . "Now, do you see this one? - and I hold up my tied and taped guy - See, I missed having a muffler with these specific modifications, so once WTF Modification guy became WTF Modification guy, I needed a replacement, and he had the misfortune of being next."

"This will serve as your one and only warning.", I remark coldly, "If you scream, wiggle, slack off or misbehave. Or if you're simply a terrible fart filter. - and I hold up the modified fart mufflers one more time - Then you know what your path is going to be." and satisfied with my 'double' warning, I put my modified men back in their respective boxes.

"Now", I punctuate, "You WILL worship, and I mean WORSHIP, whatever body part of my choosing", and this is punctuated even further by a wet bubbly fart steadily rolling out from my backside. "Did you notice you came in a box full of you-sized shrunken men?", I quiz emphatically, "This means you are replaceable in this unmodified form of yours, and you've seen how inventive and creative I can be.". Feeling as though I've clearly defined the rules and consequences of this new adventure for my new toy, I turn around and shove him down the back of my shorts and up into my ass, purporting, "I think it's time for your first official test! It's real simple. All you have to do is inhale all of my gas before I can smell it or hear it." and quacking out a fart, I find myself waving away the air and pinching shut my nose. "Oh, we have so much work to do. You'll need lots and lots of training.", and I wander off to do just that, puttering out little toots all along the way.

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This video is a part of an 8-DAY release:

1-3) Over the last 7 days, I released the 1st, 2nd and 3rd parts.

> All 3 parts were meant to release one per day, but I had severely underestimated how much work still needed to happen for it to be fully ready for release .

> I've been editing for 50+ hours since I had the realization. That's how much I value my creations!

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4) TODAY I am releasing 2 VERSIONS of the WHOLE VIDEO , unfortunately not simultaneously like I initially planned, but still within the same 24-hours .

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)( Version 1 includes all 3 Parts, and also has a nice little discount for your patience.

> It's been released at the butt-crack of dawn.

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}{ VERSION 2 (THIS ONE) includes only PART 2 and PART 3 .

> Since part 1 only has a handful of farts, it feels like it's less within the farting fetish category, and more within the giantess-shrunken man fetish categories. Therefore, I've made this version which excludes part 1.

> Of course, this version has also been discounted for your patience, just not as far as version 1 has been.

> It's been released after the sun has set.

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> Well, it happened. Both versions of the whole video have been delayed for over a day. In managing this complicated and lengthy video, I’ve continued to run out of time to release each part on its original predicted release date.

> Please accept my apologies for these incorrect predictions. Regardless, I hope you still get endless enjoyment from what I consider to be one of the best series I’ve ever had the pleasure to create!