Closet Fetishist's Stories

Home
About
Stories
Store
Search
Contact

Check Out the
Fart Fetish Podcast




Join Our Community


Click Here for

Click Here for



 

Personal Trainer
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: January 21st, 2007


“Who does that bastard think he is?”

“He is quite a douche isn’t he?”

“Yeah he is, I mean look at this place! It’s a fucking ghost town and I could be home right now doing whatever but this guy decides that 11 at fucking night is the best time for his appointment with me.”

“Well, you did sign up to be a personal trainer.”

“But who the hell comes in at 11 p.m. for training?”

“No one I can think of.”

“Exactly my point, the guy is a major retard.”

“Well, you work him out hard and maybe he’ll stop asking for you. I’m gonna head home alright? See ya, Kira.”

“I’ll do him one better,” she said, ignoring Cassidy’s good bye as she schemed to herself.

Kira was gorgeous and very young; probably around 24. She had the perfect body, which was to be expected with a personal trainer but she also was a voluptuous beauty with the perfect tight ass which she loved to show off in tight athletic shorts. She was the most popular trainer at that particular gym but she was also extremely nice and would see every client that wished to see her unlike most trainers who tended to stick with 4 or 5 of their favorites. Peter was new to the gym but he got assigned to Kira once and he quickly fell in love with her style of training and, of course, her perfect body. He really didn’t lust Kira as many guys did but he did think she was quite sexy and who wouldn’t? It was about 10:45 p.m. when Peter entered the practically abandoned gym. He walked toward the elliptical machine to warm up and 15 minutes later he walked over to the trainers’ desk where Kira was waiting.

“Hi,” he said, out of breath.

“Hey Peter. You ready to get going?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well then let’s go.”

Kira worked Peter out hard; harder then any trainer in the gym had before. After about 10 minutes every machine he sat at he needed to rest for 30 seconds or so. 20 minutes into the session, Peter was completely and utterly exhausted and breathing heavily constantly.

“You feelin’ the burn?” She said, half smiling, half not.

“Oh yeah,” He said, in between breaths.

“Good! Alright last thing and then we can go home,” She said as she patted the “leg-up” machine.

“Cool.” Peter boarded the leg machine, his back on the mat, his legs under the moveable bar. Peter began doing the exercise and looked at Kira who was just smiling, a little evilly now, and not counting as she usually would. “Uh…how many so far?”

“Oh…uh…about 10, 2 more then rest.”

Peter did as he was told and then laid there still recovering from the entire training session of this evening.

“You’re in a pretty good position there, you know?”

“Wha…what do you mean?” Peter asked, confused.

“Nothing really, you are just in the perfect position for me to do this.” Before Peter could react, Kira had both legs around the machine where Peter’s head was and sat down on his face. Peter was already out of breath so this only added to that. Meanwhile, Kira was moving around; adjusting herself for comfort.

“What are you doing!?” He yelled from under her. The voice was quite muffled but loud enough to hear.

“Just trying to help you out, you keep lifting your head up but you need to keep it against the mat.”

“Don’t you think there is a better way?” Peter asked, quickly running out of breath. He began to try to worm his way out from under her but he was too weak in this state.

Kira lifted her ass a bit on one side and farted. PRRRRRPPPPPPPPP! “Ahhhh. No, I really can’t think of a better way. Now continue your leg ups.”

Peter, now hit with an awful stench and very low oxygen, did one leg up just fine and struggled to do the next but he eventually raised the bar before it hit back down hard with a loud clang.

“Well…come on! Keep going!”

“But I can’t breathe,” he said from under her.

“Oh, you need some air huh? Here, I’ve got plenty.” Kira struggled just a bit and looked up, her eyes closed in concentration. PRRRRRBBBBBBBBB!

This one was worse than the last but Peter was trapped, forced to take in the awful intensity of it.

“Now, 13 more! Go.”

Peter decided the quicker he went the sooner it would be over but he had difficulty without oxygen and being forced to breathe in fart gas. At about a count of 7, Kira farted again. BBBBBRRRRRRRTTT! “Ahhhhh! Hey down there, are you feeling the burn, because I sure am,” she said, laughing.

Meanwhile Peter was caught in a hellish, gassy prison of no escape. He struggled greatly to do the final 6 leg ups but he had to get them done as quickly as possible because he was running out of air fast. Halfway through the 6 he was met with an SBD but he continued the exercise. When he finally finished, Kira got up off his face and rolled onto the floor; exhausted and out of breath. He coughed repeatedly as Kira just stood over him laughing hysterically. A few seconds later, Peter finally regained enough strength to stand.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your work out; I know I did.”

Peter said nothing. There was nothing to say. He could ask why Kira did this to him but he really didn’t care at the moment. He was never going to ask for her again any ways.

“Ok, just one more thing I need you to do.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Peter asked, angrily.

“This!” Kira grabbed his head and quickly pulled down her shorts and underwear with her other hand. She then grabbed Peter’s struggling head with both hands and pressed it hard and deep in her ass and held it there. PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBB! She gave him a nice long, rude fart which he struggled to escape from but it was no use, Kira was strong and in shape and he was not. She held him there for a full minute, ensuring the entire fart had entered his nose and then let go. Peter fell backwards back onto the hard carpet and lay there, choking, trying to recover from the gas attack. Kira laughed as she pulled her pants back up and walked to the back to get her stuff.

© The Fart Closet, All Rights Reserved.