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Strapped down, am I, by the weight of Fuwawa's fleshy rump, which freely engorged itself upon my face. Her soft, rotund cheeks eclipse my peripheral vision and erase all colour from my world. In front of me, a void black nothingness which went on eternally. My vision was stolen by the event horizon of the cavernous maw before me. There is no light here, yet there is a sickening pleasure formulating deep within me. Like that of a virus invading a foreign land and wiping out the native populace, it overwhelmed me. An anxiousness builds the longer she steals my breath with her soft, white backside. For you see, the cartiligineous protrusion from which I breathe is pressed tightly against her sweet anus, entryway to the ancient hallowed halls untouched by scholar and unstudied by men of science. My had been breath stolen by the sweet feminine pheromones which permeated her virginal rectum, a scent enhanced by her many hours of unwashed work. But something wicked stirred deep within and was soon to come this way. Deep, so deep within her inner sanctum, lay a dormant pox. A toxicity that grew frumious at my uninvited intrusion at the gates of these unplumbed, cyclopean depths.
Slowly, the secret creeping horror riled from its antedilivian slumber. A beastial thing formulated by Fuwawa's consistent devouring of a certain fermented bean product. A dish which had long since broken down inside of her to become a gaseous presence. One which had awaited this moment for time immemorial. The invented noxiousness desired escape, and I was to be the battlement for which it invaded. Without warning or preparation, it had happened, the thing which I had both desired and feared. The long-awaited event that had caused my initial anxious arousal.
Fuwawa farted.
It exited quickly from her orifice in a thunderous fury, splattering my clean face with the putrid scent of her explosive natto brap. My ears rang from sound, and my skin stained from the brown. There was no paradise for me to escape to. No, this was the only paradise I'd ever deserve.
I was trapped. Her rancid winds had no valley to blow through. Only my face. My lungs had gasped, hungry for oxygen, yet they would only be silenced by her blasphemous brap. I sucked in the putridity, and my mind grew blank from the incomprehensible smell that came from one so angelic.
They say the human mind is incapable of correlating all of it's content, and today, I found out why. There are things for which we are not meant to experience. You see, I had become something which defied understanding. Under the appreciable duress of the large-breasted goddess' natto brap, I had come to a realization. I am no longer a man. My conscious experience exists now solely with the noxious poison that only Fuwawa could create. I am but a cadaver meant only for the zyklon chambers of her gastrointestinal creations.
May the merciful God, if he indeed exists, guard me in these times, for I fear nothing will save me from her sickening stench. One which will soon suffocate me. One which I hope suffocate me.
Fuwawa's natto braps...
