Monica looked around the room and sighed. Even now, two years since first organizing them, she couldn't stand these administrative meetings. Instead of enjoying her last summer of college at a beach like most of her peers, she was stuck sweating her ass off in some stuffy conference room where the AC didn't work, the windows were locked, and every minute felt like ten.

Unfortunately, all the other conference rooms were locked and the start of the school year was imminent, so Monica made the decision to power through the heat rather than reschedule. Of all her responsibilities since being elected sorority president, these meetings were her least favorite by far.

But as much as Monica wanted to sleep through them (or, better yet, skip them altogether) there was still important ground to cover and she’d put too much work into the sorority to take her hands off the wheel now.

— — — — —

When she'd first joined Alpha Sigma Sigma, the sorority was a joke. And not just because of the name either (though it certainly didn't help). Firstly, the house was a shithole, plain and simple. Rotten leftovers that were more mold than food, a colorful variety of stains on the floor, perpetually clogged toilets - you name it. Any competent sorority would’ve hired professional cleaners years ago, but the administrators simply didn't give a shit, writing it off as a lost cause.

Not that the funds to actually hire these theoretical cleaners actually existed in the first place, since the treasurer didn't even bother to collect dues from the handful of members they actually did have. At first Monica thought the treasurer was simply embezzling the cash, but nope. It turned out she was just as lazy as the rest of the admins.

A bona-fide shit-show if ever there was one. Yet it was these very failings which enticed Monica to the sorority in the first place.

Besides being obsessively organized, Monica was… opinionated, to put it politely. More specifically, opinionated in her superiority over her peers. Being both a business major and a bit of a control freak, she saw in the sorority a potential magnum opus. If she somehow managed to turn this trainwreck of an organization around, single-handedly no less, it’d prove to everyone she wasn't just some business bimbo with big ideas and a bigger ego - she really was just better at management and more driven than everyone.

And so, Monica decided to make the sorority her pet project - her goal being to single-handedly make the sorority the most popular on campus by the time she graduated. Not the biggest, mind you, but rather the most elite and exclusive. Something the pledges would do just about anything to get into.

Her freshman year was spent joining the sorority, networking, and getting elected president. Easy enough admittedly, considering nobody really wanted the job anyways. The real work began her sophomore year, which was focused on getting everything organized at an administrative level, appointing people she could trust to the executive positions, and cleaning their biohazard of a sorority house. Not glamorous, certainly, but it needed to be done.

With a strong foundation now in place, junior year was all about outreach and rebranding. Progress was slow at first, but positive word of mouth and a deluge of marketing eventually got people talking. Thanks to her leadership, AΣΣ was officially in.

Now, with her senior year on the horizon, the only thing left to do was keep up the momentum going into Rush Week, where an incoming deluge of fresh blood awaited them.

Which meant, unfortunately, a lot of meetings such as these.

For better or worse, she wasn't suffering alone. To her left, covered in sweat, wearing gym shorts with a sports bra, and with her bare feet kicked up on the table, was Rosa - the sorority VP and her best friend since middle school. Monica’s need to be in control and Rosa’s freespiritedness often led to them butting heads, but despite their differences they respected the other's talents. They rounded each other off nicely, with Monica’s strengths lying on the administrative side, while Rosa’s was on the physical.

Though Rosa was technically working towards a Bachelor's in Nutrition, she really didn't pay much mind to her classes. She was in college solely to push her body to the limit by competing in as many sports as she could - whether it be swimming, volleyball, wrestling, or (her personal favorite and the reason she came to the meeting drenched in sweat) running.

As for why Monica had made her VP given her complete disinterest in anything even remotely bureaucratic, the answer was simple. As it turned out, having a 6 foot tall Latina who was enrolled in more sports than classes often came in handy when it came to “encouraging” the other sorority members to pay their dues or clean up after themselves.

Likewise, Rosa had agreed to join solely because her job was pretty easy, all things considered, and it looked good on her resume. The only reason she bothered to show up to these meetings was because her girlfriend Ami, the social chair, was also there.

Ami and Rosa had met as roommates in freshman year, and the two had been head over heels for each other ever since. It was hard to come up with a more definitive example of opposites attracting, as while Rosa was tanned, athletic, and outgoing, Ami… wasn't.

She had a ghostly pale complexion, unkempt short black hair, bags under her eyes staying up late on her computer, a husky monotone voice, and, while not overweight, certainly qualified as skinny-fat from sitting on her ass ordering DoorDash all day. She also smelled pretty rank too, though people knew better than to say so in front of Rosa lest they want a black eye.

Personality wise, there wasn't much to write home about either. Her most defining trait would probably be her apathy, which extended not just to her own hygiene but to the opinions of others as well. Rather than feeling embarrassed, depressed, or reflective about how others saw her, however, she instead treated their disdain as a mark of pride. If she did care deep down, it was buried beneath too many layers of sarcasm to notice.

Most people (Ami included) had no clue what Rosa saw in her. If Ami showered regularly, wore clean clothes, and remembered to put on deodorant everyday, then sure, she'd probably be pretty cute. But Ami didn't bother with any of that, yet Rosa was absolutely smitten with her.

Monica knew Rosa better than just about anyone, and even she didn't understand how Ami had bagged someone so far out of her league. Everyone she’d asked about it had their own working theory, but they were always just that - theories.

“She’s kinda small, so maybe Rosa likes to, I dunno, bench press her for fun or something?”

“They both sweat a lot, right? Maybe they're not bothered by each other's BO, or even like it! Pretty sure I read about certain people having compatible pheromones.”

“Simple - I bet Ami gives amazing head. Most people would keel over the moment they get a whiff of Rosa’s biohazard of an ass, so she probably can't be too picky.”

Whatever the explanation, the two could barely keep their hands off each other. Eventually Rosa ended up asking Monica to give Ami a role in the sorority, to get her out of their dorm more. While Monica initially only agreed as a favor to Rosa, Ami ended up being surprisingly good at her job. Good enough for Monica to look past her slobbishness, at least. As it turned out, a terminally online NEET girl wasn't the worst choice when it came to running the sorority’s socials.

The last woman on the summer skeleton crew was Layla, the sorority treasurer. Not much to say about her, really. She was a junior with warm olive skin, a slender frame, and long brunette hair she fidgeted with when anxious - which for her was pretty much all the time.

Her constant stuttering and rapid foot tapping made it seem like she was constantly on trial facing life in prison, but Monica was willing to look past these eccentricities so long as she kept the budget balanced. Whatever her faults, Monica slept well knowing Layla didn't have to be asked to triple-check her work.

That, and it was nice knowing so much as thinking about embezzling would probably be enough to give Layla a panic attack.

— — — — —

Monica was snapped out of her daydreaming by some movement in her peripheral vision. Rosa had raised her hips slightly, and her face had contorted into a strained expression. The changes were subtle, but Monica knew all too well the danger they portended. Rosa had always been rather “free-spirited” when it came to her bodily functions, but these past few weeks had seen her grow distressingly brazen.

“Rosa.” Monica warned as Rosa’s hand moved to spread her ass cheeks. “Don't you fucking-”

On queue, a lengthy, wet blast erupted from Rosa’s ass. Running sent her bowels into overdrive which, combined with the protein shake and eggs she had for breakfast that morning, made for a potent combination. Monica could only hope the wetness she heard was from Rosa’s swamp ass, rather than something more foul.

Once her release finally sputtered out, Rosa lowered her hips and sighed contently. “Ah… Excuse me.” She smirked mischievously. “You, uh, might want to crack open a window.”

“...Seriously Rosa?! You know we can't-“ Monica stopped mid-sentence the moment the warm, rotten stench hit her. “Eugh, Jesus Christ! Did you shit yourself?!” She wrinkled her nose and gagged. “It smells like… rotten eggs and boiling tar! You’re fucking nasty, you know that?”

Rosa chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”

“Is… Is it bad?” Though the smell hadn't hit her yet, Monica’s reaction was enough to make Layla panic.

“The fuck do you think?” Monica snapped as she fanned her face (to little effect).

“On a scale from one to ten, just how bad are we-” Her query was answered mid-sentence as the stench hit her like a truck. “Urk…!” She lurched forward and retched, narrowly avoiding losing her lunch.

“Don't you fucking throw up!” Monica warned. “I’ve dealt with enough vomit stains at the sorority house already!”

“I’ll… I’ll be fine…” Layla hacked. “Just give me a sec to… grk… catch my breath…” Only after about a minute of gagging was she able to regain a modicum of composure and give a shaky thumbs up.

The only one among them seemingly unbothered by the stench, besides Rosa herself, was Ami, who continued scrolling through her phone as if the room didn't now smell like a Porta-Potty.

“And you?” Monica looked at Ami and scoffed. “This is just a walk in the park for you, is it?” Not that your lazy ass would even know what that is…

“Huh?” Ami looked up from her phone, sniffed the air, and shrugged. “I dunno. You get used to it, I guess.”

“Well lucky you… Layla and I, unfortunately, still possess a functioning sense of smell.” She glared at Rosa. “Was that really necessary? You couldn't have at least left the room first?”

“I could've.” Rosa shrugged. “Didn't feel like it. It’s only natural, right? No need to make a big deal out of it.”

“I don't give a fuck if it's natural - it smells like shit!”

“Hey, don't get pissy with me since you're too much of a prude to rip one yourself.” Rosa smirked. “You really should try it sometime, considering you’ve been squirming in your seat for the past hour.”

“...I don't know what you're talking about.” Monica lied. While Rosa was, regrettably, correct in her deduction, she refused to give her flatulent friend the satisfaction of admitting it. Unlike Rosa, she had a reputation to uphold. One that didn't involve wantonly breaking wind in front of others like some disgusting barn animal.

…No matter how good it might feel.

“Mm-hm.” Rosa winked unsubtly. “Sure.”

“Moving on…” Monica pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled deeply. “Before we were… “interrupted”... Where were we?”

“We were screening the potential pledges for the start of the semester.” Ami brought up the list of candidates on her phone. “Got quite a few this year, so we gotta weed a lot of ‘em out.”

“Right, right…” With the stench slowly dissipating, Monica was able to refocus. “So who else is there? Anyone interesting?”

“Oh, I got Lily to sign up!” Layla perked up, quickly forgetting about the horrid odor burning her nostrils at the opportunity to gush about her roommate.

“Nice.” Ami gave a small smile. “She seemed pretty chill the few times I met her. Very… naturalistic.” She paused and winked at Layla. “How are things between the two of you, by the way~?”

“W-What do you mean?” Layla’s eyes widened. “I thought things were okay! Did she say she didn't like me or something?!”

“She means…” Rosa interjected, electing to take a more direct approach. “Did the two of you fuck each other’s brain’s out yet?” It was obvious to just about anyone who’d met them that they were into each other, but Layla was, shockingly, way too anxious to make the first move.

“What?!” Layla blushed and began to stutter (more than usual). “O-Of course not! I mean, I don't even know if she likes me!”

“Wait, you two aren't even an item?” Monica tilted her head slightly. “...Didn't you say she's always giving you massages or something?”

“Well, y-yeah… but she's studying to be a massage therapist! It’s her job to study the human body! I just happen to be a good practice dummy for her, that's all!” Layla smiled. “She's actually really good at it, too! I never knew my glutes had so many knots in them, but she says I’ve got a ton! The candles she uses also smell really-”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Rosa shook her head, flabbergasted. “You're saying this chick takes every opportunity to grope your ass by way of candlelit massages… And you seriously can't tell she's into you?”

“I-It’s more complicated than that, I assure you! If you heard her explain it, then you'd-”

“You know what - forget it.” Rosa rolled her eyes. “You're hopeless.” She turned towards Ami and smiled. “Who else we got, babe?”

“Let's see… We got…” As Ami scrolled through the list of candidates, she suddenly swallowed hard. “Oh no.”

“Hm?” Rosa tilted her head. “Who is it?”

“It’s… Patricia.” She winced in anticipation.

“Uh…” Monica was usually pretty good with names, but this one wasn't ringing a bell. “Should I know who that is, or…?”

“THAT CUNT!” Rosa snarled.

“Here we go…” Ami muttered under her breath, evidently not her first time dealing with this sort of outburst.

“Whoa.” Monica’s eyes widened. Despite being a fierce competitor, it was still pretty rare to see Rosa get this intense. “The fuck she do to you? She beat you in a race or something?”

“What? No!” Rosa shook her head. “Well… not exactly. It wasn't a race, it was MMA. And I’ve got no problem losing, so long as it's a good, clean fight! Not much point competing if you know you're gonna win. But this bitch…” She grumbled. “Every dirty trick in the book… Hair pulling, eye gouging, you name it… Real good at it too, made sure the ref never saw…”

Rosa’s jaw clenched. “But the worst was when she had me in a headscissor - my face pretty much up her ass. And sure, when grappling sometimes you end up with a face-full of crack. And yeah, it's normally pretty sweaty too. Comes with territory. But I could tell this bitch hadn't showered in days, just to distract her opponents more. And I’m not talking about a bit of BO either - there were fucking skidmarks back there!”

“Ew…” Layla wrinkled her nose empathetically.

“Oh, it gets worse.” Rosa chuckled bitterly. “At that point I knew it was over. Despite her thickness, the girl’s thighs were like vices. I had no desire to get choked out, so I tapped. Only this bitch… she ignored my tap.” Her nose flared with rage. “Instead she tightened her hold, forcing me ears deep up her fat fucking ass. I could feel her asshole through her shorts, right against my nose. I was confused at first… until I felt her body shake with silent laughter and her shithole pucker.”

“That’s when she ripped one on me.” Rosa dug her nails into her palms. “Didn't even let me go afterwards too. Not until she made sure I inhaled it. After that she… twerked… in my face to rub it in, and was already off celebrating by the time I was done retching on the floor.” She wrinkled her nose as she recalled the foul odor which clung to her face long after the match had ended. A literal stench of defeat. “Think she even had someone recording the match too…”

“Wait…” Monica raised her brow. “Is that why you’ve been farting all the time lately? You’re pissed that this girl made you smell her fart, so now you're making it everyone else’s problem?”

“Hey, it’s not like I enjoy farting around you guys. I just enjoy not feeling bloated even more.”

“Oh really? You don't enjoy it?” Monica scoffed. “I literally just watched you spread your ass as you ripped one! Hell, you even had a shit-eating grin on as you did it!”

“Okay, so maybe I do enjoy it a tiny bit.” Rosa conceded. “But there is a good reason as to why I’ve been so gassy lately. I’ve actually been experimenting with my diet to try and make my gas as frequent and nasty as possible.”

“Of course you have…” Monica pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Dare I ask why?”

“I want to be ready.” Rosa’s expression darkened. “Next time that bitch and I fight, it’s gonna be her face up my ass. And I’m not getting up until my gas burns her fucking lungs, and she can’t even close her eyes without having flashbacks to my shithole blasting her. “ She paused. “That, or I shit myself. I’d say it’s a coin-flip either way.”

“Great, so we’re just innocents caught in the crossfire then. ” Monica took a couple whiffs of the lingering stench and winced. “Eugh… Deliberate or not, fact of the matter is this room still smells like shit thanks to you… You're just as bad as her.”

“We’re not even remotely the same.” Rosa furrowed her brow. “I farted near you guys. She farted on my face. Point. Blank.” She began to sit up. “And unless you want me to personally demonstrate the difference…”

“Alright, alright…” Monica put her hands out like she was fending off a wild animal. “Point taken.”

“...Sorry.” Rosa sighed frustratedly and sat back down. “It’s just… Whole thing gets my blood boiling, y’know? Wouldn't piss on her if she were on fire; no way in hell I’m letting her call me ‘sister’.”

“Alright, consider her vetoed.” Monica shrugged. “Last thing we need is another gassy athlete joining us anyways.” She turned back towards Ami. “So, who else we got?”

“Let’s see, there's also…” Ami’s face sank. “Oh…”

“What, does Rosa have another arch-enemy I don't know about?”

“No, nothing like that…” Ami shifted around, uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “Just some girl I went to high school with. Ophelia. Pretty, popular, bitchy - you know the type. We… didn't really get along.”

“What do you mean?” Rosa sat up, suddenly very interested in what Ami had to say. “Did she bully you or something?”

“Well… a little. Said I smelled like shit, and that maybe I’d get laid if I took a bath sometime. Mostly verbal stuff like that.”

“Oh. That’s…” Monica fought the urge to say ‘True’. “...awful. Just awful.”

“Hold on.” Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean mostly verbal?”

“I’m… not sure I want to talk about it.” Ami looked to the floor, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “It's kinda embarrassing…” She forced herself to smile, though couldn't help but look uncanny. “I’m not sure why I even brought it up, it's really no big deal! How about we just, uh, move on?”

“Fine, consider her vetoed then.” Even when she wasn't being baked alive in this dutch oven of a meeting room, Monica wasn't one for small talk or heartfelt conversations. “Now who else-”

“Bullshit.” Rosa snarled. “What’d she do to you? I want to know how badly I should kick this bitch’s teeth in.”

“Well…” Ami hesitated then sighed. “I guess I could talk about it…”

Here we fucking go… Monica sighed disappointedly and leaned back, making herself comfortable. “Alright, let’s hear it. She beat the shit out of you, give you wedgies, or what?”

“What? No!” Ami shook her head, genuinely shocked. “Nothing like that. Remember how I mentioned her making fun of the way I smell? Well a bit before graduation, she decided to take it up a notch. She started… farting… around me.” Ami winced as the words left her lips.

“Wait…” Monica scrunched her brow. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Ami frowned. “At first she’d just cropdust me, or fart nearby and blame it on me. But eventually she got more… direct… with her methods. It became a sorta game with her friends to sneak up on me and fart on my leg, or something. They'd always joke about how I should thank them for giving me some of their ‘perfume’, or that I had no right to complain since I smelled like shit anyways.”

“...Huh.” Monica blinked in surprise. “That… wasn't what I expected.”

“Those cunts…” Rosa growled.

“L-Look on the bright side!” Layla smiled and spoke up, hoping a joke might dissolve some of the tension in the room and make Ami feel better. “At least she didn't fart on your face like Patricia, right?” Unfortunately, her well-meaning but awkward joke didn't land - least of all with Ami herself, who blushed and looked towards the floor. “Uh… Right?”

Ami’s silence spoke volumes.

“O-Oh.” Layla’s face sank upon realizing her faux pas. “I’m sorry, I didn't…” She sunk back into her seat, cheeks flushed, knowing she'd be cringing at this moment for the rest of her life. “I’ll, um, shut up now…”

“No shit…” Monica’s brow rose. “You too?”

“See why I didn't want to talk about it? Though no point in discretion now, I guess…” Ami sighed deeply. “Not much to it, really. I’d stayed up pretty late the night before playing League, and ended up falling asleep at my desk. The teacher had to leave for a bit, so Ophelia took the opportunity to get up, drape her skirt over my head, pull her panties to the side, and… yeah.”

Ami grimaced, recalling waking up to Ophelia’s post-gym asshole being smeared against her face, the snickering of her peers, then the acrid stench of the fart which lingered with her for the rest of the day.

Stench… and taste, as she had the misfortune of napping with her mouth open. Though she decided to omit that particular tidbit and spare herself that small indignity, at least.

“Huh…” After hearing both Rosa’s and Ami’s experiences, Monica couldn't help but wonder what’d it be like on the other end - to stick her ass in someone’s face and fart. It had to feel pretty dominant, right? Feeling someone's warm breath against your intimates, before blowing back their hair with a thunderous gale… Then watching them twitch like an insect as the acrid air burned their lungs and-

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?! Upon catching herself licking her lips, Monica shook her head and snapped herself out of her foul fantasy. To her own surprise and shame, she realized there were another pair of lips on her body that had gotten wet as well. She'd had a myriad of intrusive thoughts throughout her life which ranged from erotic to disgusting, but this was her first time having one that was both.

Jesus, I need to get laid if I’m fantasizing about that. Farts are gross. End of story.

Thankfully, the others had been too focused on Ami to notice Monica’s momentary distraction. “Honestly, the smell didn't really bother me.” She continued. “I have a pretty high stench tolerance for some reason…”

Monica could think of several reasons why Ami wouldn't be bothered by foul odors, but forced herself to hold her tongue.

“It was more the humiliation of it being done in front of everyone. Those assholes…” Ami grumbled. “The annoying part is she farts way more than me, but nobody cares when she does it because she's tall, tan, and spends hours doing her hair!”

Monica nodded concedingly. For all of Ami’s numerous unpleasant qualities, being flatulent was, shockingly, not among them. Thank God.

“When I get my hands on that bitch…” Rosa growled, barely able to sit still with rage.

“Just let it go, babe.” Ami sighed. “I’d really prefer to just move on and forget about it.”

“...Fine.” Rosa grunted reluctantly, then turned towards Layla. “What about you?” She nodded. “Any fart related trauma you want to get off your chest while we're at it?”

Goddamnit… Monica’s face soured. I’m gonna be here all day…

“M-Me?” Layla’s eyes widened, not expecting to have been called upon. “Oh, uh… Not really. Well… nothing like what happened to you guys, at least.”

“Go on…” Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

Layla shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, and looked towards Monica for backup. “...Do I really have to? It's embarrassing…”

On one hand, Monica wanted nothing more than to drop the fart talk and get back to the business at hand. On the other, she knew Rosa wouldn't just drop the subject either, so appeasing her was the more practical option.

“I mean…” Monica shrugged. “You did get Ami to admit that someone farted in her face with that ‘joke’ of yours. Seems only fair that you embarrass yourself a bit in turn. I’ll leave it up to Ami though.”

“Let’s hear it.” Ami smirked mischievously. Though she liked Layla well enough and didn't really begrudge her poor attempt at humor, watching the nervous girl squirm and stutter was pretty entertaining.

“Well… okay.” Layla cringed. “One time some gas slipped out while Lily was massaging my back. That’s it.” She looked back towards Monica for approval. “Am I good now?”

“Like hell you are!” Rosa narrowed her eyes. “Either you give us details, or I’m going to give you a brand new first-hand experience. Maybe use you to demonstrate exactly what Patricia did to me.”

“Okay, okay, geez!” Layla panicked as Rosa rose from her seat. While Rosa had never laid hands on her before, Layla didn't want to give her an excuse to either. Especially considering how flatulence-obsessed she’d become following the incident with Patricia. “We’d just gotten dinner and taken our shower-”

“Wait, ‘our’ shower?” Rosa interrupted, her intimidating posture being replaced by one of confusion. “As in, together?”

“Well… yeah.” Layla blushed. “But n-not the way you think! Lily says showering together helps save water, that's all! She's really considerate about the environment like that!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Sofia smirked and gave the others a ‘You believing this shit?’ look. “How noble of you two. Go on.”

“Well, not much else to it, really. I was pretty bloated from dinner and relaxed from the shower, so it didn't really take much for her to push some gas out of me.” Her face reddened. “God, that was mortifying…”

“Did she say anything?” Ami chimed in. “Maybe she didn't notice?”

“...No.” Layla hung her head in shame and sighed. “She was nice enough not to react, but… she definitely noticed… I get indigestion when I’m nervous, which is common enough as is but especially so when I’m near her. I’m usually pretty good at holding them in, but that just means when they do slip out they're rather, um… hard to miss.”

“As in they smell bad, or they're just loud?” Rosa interjected. “Just curious.”

“...Both, unfortunately.” Layla sighed again. “She was also sitting on my butt at the time, so there were definitely… vibrations… as well…”

“Wait, she's straddling you too?!” Rosa’s jaw dropped at this detail. “You ripped ass on this chick’s crotch, and she just kept going like it was nothing?!” She looked around the room, looking for validation she wasn't imagining things. “Layla, c’mon. If that isn't love, then I don't know what is.”

“I’m… sure she was just being polite!”

“Fuck you!” Rosa rolled her eyes then grumbled under her breath. “Stupid fuckin’ oblivious ass…”

“Well now…” Monica cleared her throat and spoke up. “As… illuminating as this has been, we still have a lot of ground to cover, so if you don't mind-”

“Hold up.” Ami interrupted. “Since we're all sharing… What about you, Monica?”

“What about me?”

“You ever have someone fart on you? Or vice-versa?”

“Ew.” Monica wrinkled her nose. “No.”

“Really? Not once?”

“Is that really so hard to believe?” She scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I happen to be a normal, well-adjusted woman. If anything, you’re all the outliers.”

“Oh, so you think that makes you better than us?” Though she feigned offense, Ami’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Of course not.” Monica lied.

“I, for one, believe her.” Monica was about to thank Rosa, until she noticed her mischievous smirk. “I’ve known her for years, and don't think I’ve heard her rip ass once. Between her tight ass and that stick she has up it, all that hot air is probably trapped inside, fighting to escape.”

“Thank you for your input, Rosa.” Monica rolled her eyes. “Now if you don't mind-”

“I do mind, actually.” Rose interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“I meant what I said about you being a tight ass. You’ve been way too stuck up lately. I mean, you were always kinda a workaholic, but these past few years with the sorority have been bad. It's, like, the only thing you talk about. No way that's healthy.”

“Is this some sort of intervention or something? What, so you half-assedly attend a few health lectures and now suddenly you're the expert on stress?” Monica scoffed. “Please. I know this might come as a surprise to you, but I happen to find my work here fulfilling.”

“You’re right - finding fulfillment by being a bureaucrat for shitfaced college girls does surprise me. But you know what else is fulfilling? Getting laid. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh yeah?” Monica crossed her arms indignantly. Though she was typically cool and composed, Rosa had always been one of the few people capable of getting under her skin. “Who says I’m not?”

“Your face. Either you’ve got a terminal case of resting bitch face or you’re, like, the most repressed woman I’ve ever seen. Not just sexually either - it’s obvious you’ve been holding in a fart for hours.”

Monica wanted to offer a rebuttal, but unfortunately Rosa’s assessment was dead on. So she elected to clench her jaw and deflect instead. “Is there a point you're getting at, or are you just wasting everyone's time?”

“My point is that you need to cut loose before your hair turns grey from the stress. And speaking from experience, one of the best ways to do that is by ripping ass.”

“...What the fuck?” Monica had been prepared to roll her eyes and laugh insincerely at Rosa’s crass comment, until she noticed there wasn't a hint of humor in her friend’s face. “You’re serious?”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Rosa nodded. “Sure, when I started giving myself gas, it was just to prepare for getting back at Patricia. But then I realized… farting feels fucking amazing. And no matter how much people complain when you do it, there's nothing they can do to stop you.”

“Jesus, Patricia really did fuck with your head, didn't she?” Monica sighed. “Okay, fine. Yes, I do have to fart. But unlike you, I don't want the room to smell like shit, and have the self control necessary to wait until I’m alone to relieve myself.”

“Alright then…” Rosa smirked. “If you don't want the room to stink, make Layla smell it.”

“Wait, what?!” Layla’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. She'd been trying her best to avoid getting involved in the bizarre argument occurring before her. “Why me?!”

“What, you think I’m gonna let me or Ami take one?” Rosa's grin widened. “Nope. Sorry - gotta be you. Ami and I already did our time, so only fair you're next in line. I’m sure you don't mind taking one for the team, right!”

“That isn't funny, Rosa… You know I have a sensitive nose…” Layla folded her arms and sulked. “Please tell her to knock it off, Monica.”

Layla glanced towards Monica for reassurance, but was instead greeted by the sight of the sorority head staring right at her, deep in thought.

Monica had always had a controlling side to her, which expressed itself both in business and in the bedroom (though the latter had been repressed for quite some time). While the thought of silencing annoyances by sitting on their faces had crossed her mind on occasion (a fantasy she kept close to her chest), she'd never considered adding flatulence to the mix as well.

That was, until she heard Rosa and Ami share their experiences.

The idea was crude, unbecoming, and a thousand other negative descriptors as well… but ‘unpleasant’ was not among them. At least not entirely.

Monica imagined Layla’s doe-eyes looking up at her, before promptly disappearing beneath her voluptuous backside. Then her muffled, stuttering pleas turning to violent retching as a paint-peeling fart blasted down her throat with a sickening echo. Her limbs flailing as she tried to desperately unseat her tormentress, all the while Monica carried on like it was business as usual, reducing Layla to nothing more than a mere object to be used however-

“M-Monica!” Layla interrupted after several seconds of awkward silence. “W-Why does it look like you're considering it?!”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Monica cleared her throat, doing her best to seem uninterested. “Of course I don't plan to make you eat my farts.”

“Farts plural?! And who said anything about me eating them?!” Layla covered her mouth, horrified. “Oh God, you were thinking about it, weren't you?!”

“Does that mean you plan to fart on her nose instead?” Rosa perked up. She hadn't expected Monica to actually fart on Layla, but she was very much down with the idea. “Because if you want, I’d be more than happy to hold her down so you can-”

“For fucks… I’m not farting on Layla’s face!” Monica raised her voice. “No way I’m having our treasurer quit right before the school year. It’d be a pain in the ass to find another one.”

“That’s the reason why?!” Layla’ eyes darted frantically around the room like a cornered animal looking for an escape route. “Seriously?!”

Monica glared towards Layla, warning her to shut up unless she wanted Monica to change her mind. Layla obliged.

“Now then…” Monica exhaled deeply. “We’ve been in this room - WHICH STILL SMELLS LIKE SHIT BY THE WAY - for over an hour past schedule.” She glared at Rosa, who chuckled to herself. “Even worse, we haven't even begun picking out what game we're gonna use to weed out the pledges”

“Ooh, maybe we could-”

“Shut the fuck up, Layla.” Monica interrupted. “After that dogshit talent show idea we did last year, you're vetoed from making suggestions. We're running a sorority - not a fucking summer camp.”

“Okay, geez…” Layla sulked, though regrettably had to agree with Monica’s assessment. Besides being pretty childish as far as pledge ceremonies go, it turned out a surprising number of pledges considered shotgunning a can of beer to be their defining talent. “What’re we gonna do then?”

“Give me a sec…” Monica pursed her lips for a moment, before her eyes lit up with inspiration. An idea that would deal with Rosa’s issues, while simultaneously giving herself an opportunity to… experiment.

“Think I’ve got it.” Monica smirked. “Since Rosa clearly isn't going to stop obsessing over farting in people’s faces until she’s dealt with Patricia…” Rosa shrugged nonchalantly. “...and I’ve no desire to spend another meeting being hotboxed by her nasty ass… why don't we give her the chance for revenge? An opportunity to get all her frustrations out of her system?”

“I’m listening.” Rosa raised her brow, intrigued.

“For the ceremony, we have the pledges prove their devotion to their future sisters kneeling down and by kissing our asses. Have them start blindfolded too, so they can't back out until it's too late. Once they're all lined up, Rosa will be free to unload in Patricia’s face to her heart’s content.” She nodded towards Ami. “Could even invite Ophelia too, if you wanted. Thoughts?”

“You know I’m down.” Rosa chuckled, imagining Patricia kneeling cluelessly before her. “Heh… Bitch won't even know what hit her…”

“Well… That’s certainly one way to weed out a ton of people. Can't imagine most pledges will wanna stick around for that - especially once Rosa starts blasting one of their faces.” Ami was interested as well, albeit warily. “It’s a bit edgy, but that also means it’ll get a lot of people talking about us too…” The corners of her lips began to rise. “Plus it could be kinda fun to get some, ahem, closure with Ophelia.”

“Edgy?!” Layla interjected, horrified. “Are you guys crazy?! It’s hazing, plain and simple!”

“Relax, it's not like we’ll actually be hurting them. Don't be such a bleeding heart.” Monica rolled her eyes. “Just embarrassing them a bit is all. Well, can't promise Rosa won't rough up Patricia at all, but the point still stands. This is actually pretty tame compared to what some of the other sororities are doing.”

“But… What about Lily?! I told her the pledge game was gonna be fun and breezy, but now you're gonna change it so she has to kiss someone's butt?! What if they follow Rosa’s lead and fart in her face?!”

“Ah, so that’s what this is really about!” Rosa smirked. “Relax, we’ll rig it so she gets partnered with you. Nobody’s gonna fart on her face.” She paused. “...Well, unless you do, of course. So, uh… try not to.”

“Her… partnered with… me?” Layla’s throat went dry. “But… then she’ll think I’m some sort of pervert who invited her to make her kiss my butt! And I can't just tell her not to come either! Even if I told her the truth, she’d probably just think I’m making it up because I secretly hate her and don't want her to join” Her eyes widened like saucers. “Oh God, what if she does come anyways I get too nervous and fart in her face?!”

“Chill the fuck out.” Rosa let out an exasperated sigh. “You are overthinking this way too much, as usual. Lily’s clearly into you. A bit of forced intimacy might be the exact sort of thing you need to finally make your move.”

“And as for you accidentally farting in her face, well…” Rosa continued. “Don't, obviously. But if you do it probably isn't the end of the world. If she didn't give a shit when you farted on her crotch, I doubt taking one to the face is gonna be a deal breaker either. So whaddaya say?”

“Ugh…” Layla whined. “I don't know, you guys… This feels… wrong…”

“Your objections are duly noted…” Monica rolled her eyes. “But it's 3-to-1 anyways, so it doesn't really matter what you think.” Layla’s foot-tapping reached new blazing speeds as she debated how to let Lily know about this change. “Now if there's no other business to take care of…” She looked expectantly around the room. “No? Good. Then let's get the fuck out of here.”