You're forced to choose which filthy, stinky torture method is the worst.
Queen Chrysalis and Nightmare Moon both agree that using their bodily functions to torture restrained victims, is a great way cause suffering, but they disagree on which disgusting method is the best.
Promptly, you're summoned to be the unwilling judge for their cruel bet.
Warning: This contains Heavy Fetish material, including: Farts, Scat, Domination, Torture and overall smellyness.
You're lying on a warm carpet, confused beyond all reason as to how you got here.
A moment ago, you were trotting your way home from doing groceries, then all of a sudden, in a blinding flash of light, you had been swept off of your hooves, and the next thing you knew, here you were, lying on your belly, still partially blinded by the light that brought you here.
Staggering, you try to get up, but a heavy hoof pushes you back down, and pins you forcefully to the floor.
Surprised, you turn your neck to see who was there.
Fear overwhelms you, as you gaze into the cold, uncaring eyes of Nightmare Moon. She looks disgusted at your very presence.
"Who in Equestria did you summon?" - She says in an irritated manner, seemingly to nopony.
"Just picked one at random." - You hear someone chuckle with a deep, seductive voice nearby.
Right after that, you hear hoofsteps approaching, and the chuckling getting closer.
You turn your head again to see who's coming, and you're met by the sadistic smile of Queen Chrysalis.
She walks right up to you, and puts a hoof down onto your face, stuffing it back down of the ground.
The two large mares have you pinned.
Fear overtakes you.
"He looks like a peasant! You brought a filthy pauper into my quarters!" - Nightmare Moon snares.
"Relax, would you. He won't be here for long. Besides, he is about to be punished, is he not." - Chrysalis answers lightheartedly.
"I suppose that's true..."
Chrysalis uses her hoof to turn your face to the side.
She leans in over you, smiling cruelly with her grit of deadly, sharp teeth. She lets out her snake-like tongue, and licks her voluptuous, black lips. Her green, glowing eyes are piercing your soul, making you more afraid than ever before.
You're trembling in her dominant presence. Her face is blushing with evil excitement.
You close your eyes and a moment later, you hear her breathing into your ear. You can smell her breath as she whispers to you.
"I'll win this, and make you mine. And once you're mine, I'll do more than just gas you."
You feel Nightmare Moon add additional pressure to your pinned body, making you squeal.
"Oh please, Chrissy. I admire your enthusiasm, but there is no way you'll win this with mere flatulence."
Chrysalis gets back up to full hight. She looks slightly insulted.
"I'll have you know, Moonie, that my methane can be just as deadly as your feces. It just takes more time and effort to truly make your victim suffer."
Nightmare shakes her head, and for the first time, she smiles, as she lets out a short, passive-aggressive chuckle."
"Even if that was true, which I assure you, it is not, why would you spend all that time and effort on a peasant like him? I can just shit into my torture machine, and it will take care of the rest. Then I can go take care of more important business, knowing he will be suffering all the while."
"Because it's fun." - replies Chrysalis while placing her hoof over to your snout, forcing you to smell it's grimy sweaty surface, in turn making you gag lightly.
Their conversation is making you more and more frightened by the second.
Nightmare Moon just sighs in response.
"Very well then" - She says.
"I suppose there is no reason to stand around here, with this peasant, in my quarters any longer. The deal is set. You get him for 5 hours, but can only use your ass and farts. Then I get to put him into my toilet torture machine for 1 hour, and I'll show him what real torture is. He gets to pick which experience was the worst, which will be my torment naturally, and the winner gets to keep him a trophy, or whatever."
Chrysalis, licks her lips again and giggles once more. She's oozing with malicious excitement, in sharp contrast to Nightmare Moon's cold demeanor.
"Don't count your blessings, yet. I feel gassy enough to fumigate a castle... He's mine."
A blink of light, just like the one that originally got you to Nightmare Moons quarters, enveloped your body, blinding you once more.
A second later, you're standing in a dark, damp cave-like room.
You hear Chrysalis' sadistic laugh nearby.
Frightened, you look around, before sprinting in a random direction in a frail attempt to escape your inevitable fart torture.
You don't get far before you feel her tail wrap around your body, capturing you on the spot.
"You're not going anywhere, fart sniffer." - She giggles, while bringing your helpless body closer to hers.
She tugs you in under her tall mare-body, and presses your face against her belly. Her stomach growls, and she makes sure you listen to it.
"You hear that? That's the sound of your stinky demise."
Suddenly, she throws you on the ground behind her, and you tumble and roll around until you hit a wall. You try to get up before she gets to you, but by the time you're even halfway on your hooves, you're already face to face with her large, dark, voluptuous, queen-ass.
She's wearing a pair of tight green panties, with a fitting biohazard symbol printed on right on top of her asshole, that's tugged away between her two massive asscheeks.
She takes a step backwards, and you can now faintly smell the sweat oozing off of her rump.
"Take off my panties." - She commands, in a tone so utterly dominant, that you don't even think twice before complying with her demands.
Her dark, dirty asshole, and damp labia is revealed as you roll her underwear down her hips and let them fall to the floor once her legs get thin enough for the fabric not to sit tightly against her mare flesh.
She steps back further, and you can now smell the powerful, nasty essence of her musky plothole, as it interrupts the already unpleasant smell of her ass sweat.
She steps off of her grounded panties and lifts them up with her tail.
"Open wide." - She commands, and once again, out of fear, you obey, and let her stuff your face with her used underwear. You can taste the filth and grime of the clothing she's forcing into your maw. She finishes off by placing a ballgag in on top of them, holding them in place and making sure you have no choice but to sniff her upcoming storm of nasty farts through your nose.
Then, she grabs your neck with her tail, and with it, she forces you the last few inches needed to have your snout pressed directly against her tight, stinky anus.
You feel the inner parts of her firm buttcheeks as they clinch around your muzzle, keeping you from turning your head away from her asshole.
Satisfied with the position she has placed you in, she licks her lips, and backs up even further, pressing the back of your head against the wall behind you, completely pinning you between the cave-wall from the back, fleshy lumps of ass on each side of your face, tail on the top of your head and around your neck, and her filthy rectum right at the front of your muzzle.
"Stinky, is it not?" - The queen asks as she begins to rock her massive plot back and forth in your face, squishing your encapsulated head around between her powerful bales of rump meat.
"I haven't had anypony lick my backside clean in months, so I'm sure its musky scent is very, very strong and potent by now."
Her steady rocking turns to a forceful wiggle before she stops.
"Perhaps I will have you give my ass a tongue shower once I've won this bet."
Even in your compliant state of fear, the overpowering, musky ass stench that her cloying queen-hole oozes into the tainted air you're forced to breathe, have you struggling to free yourself from your stinky butt-prison.
The queen laughs at your pathetic attempt at escaping her nasty ass, and gives your face another forceful wiggle to showcase how powerless you truly are, smearing her ass musk across your snout in the process.
"I haven't even farted yet, and you're already struggling like that? If a little ass sniffing can get you this panicky, I can't even imagine what my gas will do to you."
She clinches her buttcheeks, tightening the grasp around your face even more.
"Hnnngg. Let's find out, shall we."
You feel her plothole press outwards against your nostrils, and a moment later it retrieves back with a hissing sound, and the dreadful feeling of hot air blowing across your entire face.
The moment you catch a whiff of her deadly cloud of ass gas, you're put to tears by its overwhelming repulsiveness. You whimper out loudly in disgust as her fart's potency overtakes and torments your senses.
It's cabbagy and cloyent, with a stark aftersmell of rot, and you're forced to breath it in at point blank range.
The queen laughs sadistically at your misery, before letting out a second rotten emission of equal potency.
You sieze your struggling as her foul farts make you too lightheaded to continue putting up a fight.
"Ahhhhh. This is just a warm-up, fart face. Just you wait for the real stinkers!"
She lets out another hissing stink bomb, letting you shower in her increasingly sour fart smell.
"Ahhhhh. And i have you for five hours! Hnnnngg."
Pffffffffffff hsssssssssss
"Ahh. Come to think of it, I think I 'forgot' to start the timer. Okay, five hours, starting..."
BRRRRTHH!
BRRrth! BRRRth!
BBRRPPPTTHHBTHRRRTHH! BRRRTTHHHHHH!!
She interrupts her sentence with a faceful of loud, braying eruptions, blasting your face with her stinky farts.
"...Now."
The new addition of ass gas she cheated in, before officially starting your torture session, has your senses completely outmatched and you're gagging and coughing into her panties in your mouth. These farts are so unbelievably stinky that you can feel their potency prickling like tiny needles in your eyes.
She gasses you again, and then again, each new deadly addition reeking more than the previous.
After a couple of short, stinky minutes, she steps forward and lets you fall to the ground, still gagging due to her filthy fart cloud.
"Enough foreplay, let's get to the real stinkiness."
She grabs your neck with her tail, and drags you across the floor. You're far too weak from inhaling her vapors to fight back, as she takes you to her tall, black throne.
She drops you on the ground once again, and you curl into a ball.
Then, she opens a lid in the seat, and you watch in horror as she pulls out the skeleton of another pony and drops it next to you.
She looks down at you, snake tongue hanging freely out of her sadistic grin.
"Now, the real suffering can begin."
...
You're placed in the chamber beneath her throne, with your face right underneath the open lid, which opening is shaped like a sideways 8. It's made to exactly fit the queen's huge ass. You are completely restrained and can't even turn your head. There is a wall of latex going across your neck, separating your face and body into two separate rooms.
The queen looks down at you once again.
"Are you ready for 4 hours and 52 minutes of uninterrupted face farting?"
You whimper and cry as she sits down, her ass fitting perfectly into the opening, making the seal between ass and seat airtight, and leaving you in complete, blinding darkness.
But the awful stench and humidity reveal that her plothole is resting mere millimeters above your snout.
"The biggest issue with fart torture is that they only really stink for a short while. Now, that's not a real issue for someone as gassy as me, but it still annoys me. But down there, in my Gas-Chamber, where there is absolutely nowhere for the fart-cloud to evaporate, they will keep on reeking for hours, even days if they're potent enough. And as I keep on farting, it will only get stinkier and stinkier, and their different kinds of stench will mix and combine, for an even more horrible fart sniffing experience."
You hear the sound of bags and a bottle of soda being opened above you.
"There we go, I have my gassy snacks to keep me fueled, and a couple of movies to enjoy while gassing you. Guess where all set... Hnnng!"
She let's rip, and she doesn't hold back.
Loud, stinky blast, upon loud, stinky blast.
Her foul emissions seem unending, and each new fart adds additional stinkiness.
Half an hour into the torture, she unleashes a long hissing cloud of deadly ass air. It reeks beyond all belief of foul, rotten eggs, and you feel like choking on the repulsive new fart-stech, right as she showers your face with another sylphuric SBD.
Her fart stench has changed from cabbagy to eggy, and as more and more rotten gas fills your chamber with the new smell, the two scents combine into a cloyent, unbelievably foul, beyond deadly, revenues, malodor.
The stench is unbearable and you haven't even suffered through a quarter of this stink-based torment.
Her sweaty ass is constantly emitting moisture, making the horrible air you breath damp like a showerhall. And as your tiny chamber gets warmer, her plump ass gets sweatier, and soon droplets of her salty butt sweat are dripping onto your face.
Time passes slowly, and after what feels like a smelly eternity has passed, you are suddenly blinded by light, as your cruel Queen rises from your face.
As she lifts up her queenly ass from its seat, she creates a magical green membrane to cover off the top of the gas-chamber like film, ensuring that her fart storm doesn't leak out, keeping it as smelly as possible.
She looks down at you with a devious smile.
"Now that I've made it nice and stinky for you, I think it's time for you to taste my gas as well."
You feel your gag being removed with magic, and her panties leave your mouth. You instinctively breath through it as soon as possible, causing you to gag at the horrible gassy taste the fart cloud leaves in your mouth as you do.
You watch in horror as your fart-queen inserts a metal tube into your open mouth before sitting back down in you, with her bare asshole resting at the opposite end of said tube.
"I'll be sure to have you taste my scat once I win this little bet, for now though, you'll just eat my farts."
With those words of disencouragement, she gasses you straight into your open mouth. And you're forced to both sniff her nasty gas with your nose and taste it with your tongue simultaneously.
The stench, at this point, had turned so potent that you could no longer sense anything but it's unbearable, veggie, rotten, eggy, putrid foulness, but now you could taste it as well.
You're whimpering, crying and gagging at your cruel, smelly torment, making your Queen giggle.
"Suffer my Stinky Gas!! HA!"
She uses magic to keep you from passing out due to the horrid air quality, as continues to torture you like this until her 5 hours used up completely.
"Looks like our session is over, Ass Slave. Guess it's time to..."'
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrth
Brrrrrthhhhhh
Brthhhh
"...Let you..."
Brrrrth
Brrrrrrrrrrrthh
Brrrrrrrth
"...Out..."
" Ahhhhh. - I'll be sure to not let any of this stinkiness out of this here chamber, while you're at Moonie's mercy, so it will still be nice and foul when I get you back here again." - She proclaims in sadistic bliss.
"Now take your last torturous sniff of my brand, and I'll send you off to eat shit..."
"By Celestia, that stupid bitch of a sister, you absolutely reek of farts..." - Proclaimed Nightmare Moon whilst waving a hoof in front of her feminine muzzle.
She looks at you in disgust, her reptilian-like eyes cold and cruel.
You just lie on the floor gasping for fresher air than what your previous tormentor had offered you.
"Don't just lie there like some simpleton, get into the torture machine and restrain yourself, immidiately! I will not tolerate any reluctance!" - She shouts, as her night-sky, etherial mane rises in anger.
Quickly, you stagger to your hooves. Your immense lightheadedness and vomit inducing nausea almost cause you to fall down again, but after a bit more staggering you manage to stay upright.
Nightmare Moon, noticing your pitiful condition, rolls her eyes at you, and sighs.
"Pathetic peasant." - She quietly utters with pure disgust in her voice, while shaking her head, before picking you up with magic and placing your helpless body in a metal chair, and restraining your hooves, body, and neck with a multitude of tight leather straps.
Once you're completely restrained to the chair, she inserts a metal ring gag into your mouth. It's too big for you, but she forces it in, stretching your jaw muscles to their breaking point.
"Do you always stumble around like some buffoon?" - Her sharp tone of annoyance makes you feel embarrassed.
"There. All ready for a fecal force-feeding."
You start to cry once more.
"Oh, please. Spare me. I haven't even relieved myself yet. Save your whining for the actual torture."
She then turns around on the spot, and levitates a large glass bowl up to her, (Compared to her large figure), petite, feminine rump, before unleashing a gigantic dark brown log of steaming shit into it. The thick log is at least 4 inches wide, and it just continues coiling out of its creator's asshole and into the bowl until it finally plops out, and lie at the bottom of the bowl like a fat shit-snake.
She then levitates the bowl towards you, making you struggle against your bindings in fear.
She places it at the bottom of your hooves.
"The machine will take care of the rest. No reason for me to stick around here all day. I'll come back in an hour. Until then, endure your torture session."
With those words, she flaunts her neck and leaves you.
You hear the vague sound of an engine, and the grinding of gears.
You're given a shock as a metal plate is emerges from somewhere behind you and is placed beneath your chin.
You see the glass-bowl, filled with your new tormenters massive ass-cake, being lifted off of the ground, getting ever closer to your face.
Soon enough, you're hit by the stench of her long nasty log, and it makes you gag.
It's putrid, bitter, rotten and fecal. And you're unsure whether this means that this is a truly foul dump, or you've just never smelled shit this close to your face before, but either way, you're crying out loudly in utter disgust.
The bowl begins to tip slowly in your direction, and a second later, her feces slides out on the plate your face is resting against.
The very tip of her massive turd lands right in front of your exposed face, lightly touching the bottom of your lip, and you wisely choose to breath through your mouth to avoid its powerful stench.
You can vaguely taste its putrid essence as you gasp for air, but it was much more bearable than sniffing it.
You watch in horror as a multitude of mechanical arms, equipped with many different devices as replacements for hands, emerges from the ground, slowly moving closer to your face.
One of them moves right up to your nose. It has two small pistons with tiny claws at the end.
It extends the pistons down onto the turd, and the claws each picks up a piece of poop. The pistons then retract, before turning so they point diagonally rather than horizontally. They are pointing right at your nostrils. Then the pistons extend themselves once more, and you cry as your nostrils are stuffed with foul, stinky, shit.
Once your nose is taken care of, the arm retracts and another one closes in. This one makes you even more afraid as it's equipped with a knife. Luckily, it just cuts off the front part of the long, shitty log.
Having a nice, mouth-sized piece of princess poop prepared, yet another arm, equipped with what looked to be three tightly placed, dull awls closes in, and with the help of the flat side of the knife, it presses the smelly piece onto its awls, resulting in what could be described as an arm equipped with a giant shit-dildo.
Like a filthy lipstick, it presses the shit-dildo against the edge of your ring gag, and begins to slowly circle it around your mouth, smearing your lips with putrid poop.
Once your lips have been colored brown with scat, it lines up with your pried open mouth, and you try to mentally prepare to have the faint scat taste you're already experiencing from the foul air, assault you full force.
But to your surprise, instead of going inside of you, it backs up a bit as another arm, this time equipped with a clamp, enters your mouth instead. It grabs your tongue and pulls it out against your will.
You're helpless as the shit-dildo approaches once more and places itself on top of your outstretched tongue.
You're forced to taste the putrid surface of Nightmare Moon's nasty dumb, and you whine out loudly at the horrifying, rotten, bitter, and incredibly acidic taste her residue causes your tongue to experience. To make matters worse, the arm begins to slide her nasty piece of Goddess Excrement around on your tongue, coloring it as brown as your lips, and making you taste its nastiness to an even greater extent.
You cry and wiggle in your tight bindings, to no avail while the toilet torture machine does its cruel job. In your unwilling struggles, you accidentally breathe through your nose, thus making you smell the purest essence of the shit pieces forced into your nostrils. It's so incredibly stinky it causes an acid reflux.
Your nausea is increasing, and you're feeling sick to your very core, and you've probably been here less than 10 minutes, so there is gonna be a lot more shitty torture to suffer through.
As you're suffering in the powerful taste and smell of the foul feces, the shit-dildo is slowly being pushed further back across your tongue, until finally, it enters your mouth. It starts to move back and forth. In and out, making you gag at the increased, shit-tasting torment.
Each time the log re-enters your mouth, it is forced in further than before, making the experience increasingly worse.
Soon it pushes passed uvula, giving you another reason to feel like puking.
Then, it enters your esophagus. You're now forcefully deepthroating her turd.
It continues to go in further each time it's inserted, and you can feel your throat expand each time the nasty pile goes in.
As you're deepthroating her filth for longer and longer, you're also forced to inhale air through your nose for longer and longer as well, and those two shit-nuggets that have been stuffed in there are still just as smelly to you as the very first time you sniffed them.
Right as you think this torment has reached peak filthiness, the knife cuts another mouth sized scat piece of the gigantic scat roulade, and another awl covered arm closes in, creating a second scat-dildo.
In your misery, you notice that the new shitsicle is a lot lighter in color than the one your currently sucking on, and it makes you realize that with a dump that big, Nightmare Moon had probably not relieved herself in days, meaning that her scat could change in stench and taste the further you got through it.
As the shit-dildo inside your mouth retracts once again, it moves to the side to allow the next piece of pony poop a turn to ravage your senses.
It goes in, and you're hit by the new scat taste. It's not as bitter as the last one, but it's a whole lot more putrid, and it has an almost sickeningly sweet aftertaste, making you feel even more nauseated.
You feel like choking as the two lollipoops starts to force themselves inside of you in an alternating pattern. As soon as one log leaves your mouth, the next one enters, ensuring that you never get too used to the horrible, scatty taste before it's replaced with an equally repugnant flavor of manure. Furthermore, with your throat now being constantly stuffed with fecal matter, you can now exclusively breath through your nose, ensuring that every single breath you take stinks like disgusting shit.
You keep your eyes closed in strained suffering throughout most of the nasty ordeal, but in a weak second of looking you see the rest of her dump being picked up by yet another arm, and one dreadful moment later, it smears your entire face with her nasty scat, coloring the rest of your face as brown as your lips. More shit gets stuffed up your nose as it's happening, simultaneously making it even harder to breath, and making whatever air you do manage to inhale, smell even fouler than before.
You whine as your given a brown, stinky face-wash, and as if it could not get any worse, you feel something metallic against your eyelids, followed by the feeling of having them forcefully opened so the machine could get scat into your open eyes as well.
As you're being brown-faced, the two scat logs you're currently having the great misfortune of tasting, start to move around inside your mouth more rapidly each time they're in there, smearing their filth around on your teeth, and every surface of you, until the inside of your mouth is just as brown as the rest of your face.
Then, and only then, does the mechanical arms let you swallow whatever is left of their turd-tards, making you wrench as they finally glide all the way down your esophagus, and into your stomach.
Then, the machine stops, and its many arms retracts back into the ground to be cleaned off, leaving you to sit still and suffer the smell and taste, completely caked in poop.
You hear the hoofsteps of your approaching torturer. You can't see her, due to the feces in your eyes, but you know she's closing in.
Despite her usual harsh attitude, she can't help but break out into genuine laughter at the pathetic display of her prisoner, strapped to a chair with his face completely covered in her shit.
"As much as I would wish for you to spend the night like this, I'm afraid my time is up. I'll be fair and let you take a shower before you give yourself up to my superior torture skills, and I make you my permanent toilet. I guess, since it would make Chrissy jealous, I'm going to keep a more personal relationship with you than my other prisoners. I have some ideas that would make for great Christmas cards to her. You should feel honored by this really, I would usually never let a pauper like you anywhere near my goddess body."
You wash your face for the fourth time, filling your mouth with the hot shower water, before gurgling, and once again, spitting out the now polluted water over the shower grate.
You spit, and spit again, a line of saliva hanging from your mouth, and snot from your nose.
You're practically blinded, as you've washed your open eyes with soap in an effort to clean them properly after having them besmirched with fecal matter.
You lift up your head once more, and start to soap up your facial fur for a fifth face-wash. You let the steaming hot shower water rain upon you, embracing the feeling of its cleansing droplets. Then you open your mouth and let the hot soapy water spill in once more, so you can gurgle and spit again.
After your seventh time of doing this, the stench of Nightmare Moon's foul droppings, are replaced with the cloyent scent of Queen Chrysalis' stinky rump-air. With enough soap and water, almost every trace of Nightmare's deadly dump could be washed away, leaving only a faint, faint fecal taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your gut where her two scat-dildos where currently residing, but Chrysalis' fart stench kept lingering in your fur no matter what you did. Though, it wasn't nearly as potent as it had been before you were used as Nightmare's bathroom and had a shower, but even after another ten face-washes, you could still smell her ass gas clinging to your facial fur, and you had no choice but to give up, and smell like farts.
As you walk out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, the two evil mares are waiting for your judgment.
Nightmare Moon doesn't look at you as you begrudgingly approach them, opting instead to sit with her side turned against you, stirring a cup of tea with a teaspoon using magic. Chrysalis on the other hoof, seems eager to hear what you have to say, and she's licking her plump lips, face painted red with sadistic glee.
You sigh. Knowing there is no way to escape your predicament, you're about to choose your permanent torturer, and daring not to lie to their faces, you're about to choose the torturer you find to have caused you the most suffering.
"Queen Chrysalis wins." - You finally force yourself to say, well aware of the consequences of uttering those words. They were like a curse. An old powerful chant. And you'd just cursed yourself to a life of stinky torment.
Slowly, the bug queen's cruel smile turns to a grin and her green, glowing eyes light up with victorious delight.
Besides her, Nightmare Moon has stopped stirring her tea, and even though her expression hasn't changed in the slightest, you can feel her malicious anger rising. Anger towards you. If Chrysalis hadn't been here, you were sure Nightmare would have killed you on the spot, or at the very least fed you some extra nasty turds.
"Sorry, Moonie, my farts are just too disgusting for you to compete with." - Chrysalis giggles.
Nightmare Moon, ignoring the taunting changeling completely, instead turns her attention to you, making you shake with fear as you meet her cold, yet furious gaze.
"And what is your reasoning for choosing scented air over solid logs of pure, overpowering putridness?" - She asks you.
"I-It wasn't easy to decide." - You mutter, taking a step backwards.
"My time with both of you have been dreadful, but I had to choose one."
"SO WHY DID YOU CHOOSE HER!" - Nightmare Moon finally shouted, her cold expression overtaken and broken in a fit of rage.
You take a deep breath
"We can all three agree that poop is nastier than farts. That's why Chrysalis got five hours rather than just one, correct?"
"Pfft. Five measly hours of fart huffing does not compare to one hour with MY shit."
"Your poop was horrible, your highness, but so were the Queen's emissions. In the end, I chose the winner in the shower. You see, after washing my face seven times, I had mostly the scat taste and smell removed completely, but the farts stench, it was still present. And after seventeen times, I could still smell them... And I still can."
The angry look on Nightmare's muzzle turned to an insulted one, but rather than complaining further, she sat back, crossed her front hooves, and said no more.
You now belonged to Queen Chrysalis. You were her trophy for winning this bet, and looking into her sadistic eyes, you found yourself wishing you had chosen to be Nightmare Moon's plaything instead of her's.
"Come along now, Pet. You have a long, stinky night ahead of you."
Back at Chrysalis' dark, rocky castle, you almost immediately find yourself pinned between a wall and your new owner's curvy queen-rear. Your face is squished hard between her powerful, clinging asscheeks. Her rump has you placed in a headlock with your nose naturally placed right against her tight, stinky musk-hole.
"Sniff, Pet."
With thoughts of pure regret, you obey your queen and inhale the stinky air her unwashed plot has to offer. The cloyent stench oozing off of her rectum, is as sickeningly overpowering as you remember, and the queen giggles at the occasional sounds of your reflexive gagging, caused by the musky smell.
"Keep sniffing, like a good pet, and I'll feed your lungs with my gas." - The queen announces, voice rich with both dominance and sadistic excitement.
She tenses and strains her body, before bathing your unprepared face with a long quiet discharge of queenly ass gas. Upon her first foul eruption, before you've even got time to inhale her death-cloud, she sighs audibly, as she forces out a second, and then a third smelly hisssss, feeding your lungs with far, far stinkier air than what you were breathing a moment ago when her ass sweat and dirty anus were all you had to endure.
Just calling these foul emissions far, far stinkier than her natural plot-scent would be an understatement. They smell absolutely terrible. They are far more potent than anything she unleashed upon you during your previous torture session with her.
You find yourself, coughing and gagging at the horrible, putrid stench of the foulest farts she has made you smell.
The queen is amused by your obvious suffering, and she wiggles her ass in your face, as she laughs at your displeasure.
"You better get used to huff up my farts like this, because this is your purpose now. To serve your queen as her own, personal fart sniffer." - She licks her lips, as she has gotten a habit of doing while torturing you.
"Amongst other degrading things."
She gasses you again, but rather than the foul farts leaking out like from a cracked air-pipe, she blasts your face, with a raunchy, forceful eruption, showering you with her damp, nasty flatulence, and as her long deadly fart turns moist for a moment, her anus becomes like a spray can, as anal fluid rains like tiny droplets on your face, being pushed out by her vigorous gassing. to top it off, as if her rump polluting the air to a greater extent than the exhaust pipe of an eighteen wheeler wasn't awful enough, these vapors are even more potent in smell than her previous hissing farts, making you puke in your mouth as you inhale the ungodly concoction.
The overwhelming force of her ass-blast, fills the air with her brand to such an extent that she herself catches a whiff of it, and she lets out a cough as she realizes just how stinky her farts have become.
"Cough* Argh - Urghhhh, Fuck, what a stinker!"
She flaps her insect-like wings, in an effort to keep the sickening, eggy, putrid stench away from her own sense of smell while she continues to torture you with her bug fumes.
"WHAT the fuck are you doing back there, Pet? Cough*. Urrrrrrgh, it REEKS. Sniff harder!!" - She demands loudly as she continues to have to deal with trace amounts of her own nasty fart-stench.
You barely hear what she's saying as your ears are ringing due to your immense nausea. You feel like you're drowning in a tarn of boiling sulfur, located at the top of a mountain made of decaying broccoli, whilst having your head shoved up a dead dragons asshole.
"EEEEW! These are AWFUL!" - Your queen shouts, buzzing her wings as fast as possible in an effort to keep her stench away from her own sense of smell.
"Gag*. You awful, awful pet. You're supposed to sniff all my farts up, leaving no trace for me. I promise you, I will punish you severely for making me smell this!!" - She shouts angrily, distressed by her own odor.
She steps forward, letting your limb body fall to the ground.
"These are far too stinky to release into the open air." - She says as she picks you up with her tail and gallops away from the contaminated area as fast as she can.
"I'll give you the rest of these in the fart chamber. Down there you will have to huff it all up!"
Chrysalis strains her body, trying to hold back her horrible vapors, while shoving your weak body into the small chamber beneath her throne. Both to spare herself from the potent stench, but also to not waste her fumes before getting you restrained in the stinky torture room.
Once you're down there, body restrained, and completely at your captor's mercy, you're reunited with the familiar foul smell of your previous five-hour stink session, caused by the sheer amount of farts she's unleashed into this chamber, making you gag at the damp cloud of queenly flatulence.
As soon as you've had your first smell, the looming queen slams her fat ass down, just in time to let her thick, steamy blast of putrid ass gas shoot straight into your nostrils, increasing the already potent stench with the addition of more overpowering farts.
You gag and wrench as your queen deluges the tiny gas chamber with a barrage of stinky, rancid emissions of intestinal gas.
As you open your mouth to gag, she lets a forceful fart erupt straight into your open mouth, making you taste the foulness to an even greater extent.
In your suffering, you hear her laugh as she continues to push out her stinkers in your face.
"Ahhh, inhale my fart stench, Pet. Inhale it all an endure this stinky torment. Suffer for your queen!!"
Completely at her mercy, you sniff up fart after fart, as she releases them at a still surprisingly rapid rate.
After half an hour of nonstop ass steam, she finally starts slowing down her rump a bit, but she's still feeding you fresh farts more than nine times per minute.
The air inside the Queen's fart-hole is now so foul smelling, that every breath you take makes your body shake involuntarily. Your primal reflexes are constantly kicking in, trying to move your body out of the contaminated area to no avail.
Time goes slowly, but she keeps sitting on you. A gag has been teleported into your mouth.
Another ten stinky hours pass by, with your Queen sitting atop her throne occasionally increasing the potency of your stinky air with another torturous release. By now your reflexes have given up completely, and so has your gagging and coughing. You lie limb, and meek, suffering her putrid stench in silence, as it continues to get worse by the minute.
You've surrendered yourself to your owner's ass gas, and accepted your stinky fate. Even as a series of particularly nasty, spluttering, moist, stink bombs, splashes your face with fart-juice, gradually making it leak into your exposed nostrils, you just take your fartboarding without protesting in the slightest, despite you suffering immensely both due to the stench increasing even further, and due to the feeling of drowning in moist farts. Your body has simply given up responding.
"HNNGG! Ahhh. How do you like sniffing up my ass juice, Bitch? I often use pissboarding as a way to punish prisoners, but with farts this wet, who needs it."
As she says this, yet another even sloppier poot escapes her rectum, bathing your face in anal leakage. The smell is getting more fecal.
"Ohh, it feels... Like you're about to get something else into those lungs of yours..."
Suddenly... Light. The Queen rises her rump from its seat and you feel a piece of cloth being placed on top of your face, before she plops back down again.
"If we're gonna do this type of torture, we're gonna do it right... Get ready for a shitty drowning, pet."
You're given no time to prepare before she unleashes yet another moist stinker that quickly turns from just a wet fart to a shower of watery scat, filling your nostrils with her nasty chocolate milk.
The intensified feeling of drowning awakens your limb body from its concession, and you splutter and wiggle as you feel like you're drowning in her poop soup.
She holds her shit shower, just for long enough for you to get a breath of fart air, while still feeling like drowning due to the soaking piece of cloth, before she lets her sewage run again.
"Ahh, yes! Fill your lungs with my feces!! Drown for your Queen!!"
You struggle for all your worth as she goes back and forth between drowning you in feces, and letting you struggle to inhale her farts through the diarrhea soaked cloth.
"Hnnng, I feel something solid coming... It's dinnertime, toilet!!"
You cry and cough, as she rises and removes the soaked cloth, the green membrane instantly appearing above you, to keep any farts from leaking out.
You look into each other's eyes, you, with a look tainted by disgust and fear, and her with an evil smile painted on her lush, black-green lips.
She removes your current gag.
"Open your mouth, fart slave. I'm going to feed you with shit now."
Reluctantly, you do as you're told, and another gag, a ring-gag this time, appears in your mouth, to keep it that way.
Your curvy owner turns around once more and slowly sits down, once again trapping you in complete darkness beneath her massive, smelly, royal ass.
She makes sure her queen anus is aligned with your pried open mouth so that she can take her dump without missing its target.
She shits.
What she calls solid, turns out to be a thick, nasty paste of creamy crap that sloppily expels out of her torturous anus, filling your open mouth with the bitter taste of her sickening muck.
She sighs in relief as well as sadistic glee as she feeds you her mushy waste.
Between lumps of semi-solid ass-filth, thick, ever stinky farts escape as well, adding to the scent in your stink chamber.
The magic that keeps you from passing out must be strong at this point, because there is no way anypony could stay awake under these conditions.
You close your eyes, wishing for the sweet relief of unconsciousness... or death.
You're granted the opposite of relief as she, under heavy panting and cruel chuckling, delivers the motherload.
A thick, girthy, actually-solid, log of foul scat, equal in size to the combined amount of every sloppy portion of butt-fudge she had given you so far pokes out of her rump and pushes into your mouth.
The scat that already fills your maw, gives way for the new and superior, queenly log. Some of it is pushed to the side and starts to spill over your lips, nasti-fying your face further. Some of it sadly gets pushed onto your nose where its filthy, sickening scent can be experienced to an even greater extent. Some of it, unfortunately, gets pushed down your throat, causing your already nauseated body to finally give in and puke.
Your acid, however, doesn't get too far, as Queen Chrysalis' bowel movements are way stronger than anything your weak body can muster. And so, her shit pushes down your vomit before it can even come up.
Her pasty filth slights further and further into your tortured body as her giant log grows longer into your mouth.
You can hear her giggle and moan as she tortures you, loving every second of it.
"How do you like my filth, fart slave, is it comparable to her's?" she asks rhetorically, while you struggle to deal with the situation.
It's hard to say whether or not it's as bad as Nightmare Moon's. It probably isn't, but the addition of her stinky farts made it worse regardless.
She puts more pressure on her log, and a moment later, you're deepthroating it.
She continues to work it out, and it goes in further and further. You gag and whimper as she stuffs you with poop.
She pinches and rises to see you.
She laughs at you and takes a picture to send to Nightmare Moon. Just to spite her. She's gonna be so jealous.
You're lying with pitiful teary eyes, green cheeks due to nausea, brown lips as well as nose, scatty residue dripping down around your face, and a big, girthy log protruding from your maw. Not to mention that the air around you is so thick with farts, that it's almost visible in the picture.
She turns around once more and sticks a hind hoof through the membrane atop her seat. She plants it on her turd and pushes it further down your throat. Then, using magic, she places a cork into the ring-gag to keep her turd sealed inside.
She looms in over you, ready to sit back down, looking down at you before letting her fat ass drop.
"You know, fart slave, one of the perks with being a changeling queen is that I don't need to digest my food that much. I get most of my sustenance from love, so food is just a dietary supplement, really. That means I don't take all the nutrients from it, there is still some left for you. And my farts should have enough oxygen in them to keep you breathing."
She smiles.
"I don't ever need to take you out of that fart chamber again, and I never will. You have found your final resting place. You will never move your body even an inch out of the position you're currently lying in. You will breathe nothing but farts and eat nothing but shit for the rest of your life, and I will never ever air it out. So it will only get stinkier and stinkier for you over the years. I will make every second for the rest of your life torture. Now... I feel some stinkers coming, get ready for your next stink-increase, fart slave."
