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Lost Picking Flowers
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: December 20th, 2011

Tim found himself in the woods; he had only taken a few steps off the sprawling family estate but now the trees were thick and he couldn't tell how to get back.

He noticed a trail of bright pink flowers; they seemed out of place in such a dark place, they seemed to glow without being touched by the sun which was blocked by the taller and taller trees. Darkness was falling quickly.

Tim kept following the flowers which eventually opened and surrounded a small cottage; smoke bellowed slowly out the chimney, clearly someone was home. Tim approached the house cautiously; he's about to knock when the door swings open.

A beautiful young woman in a long, ratty brown robe is startled by the young boy when she nearly stumbles over him.

"Oh, jeez! You scared me. What's a young boy like you doing way out here?"

"I don't know where I am," answers Tim.

"Poor child, come in you must be exhausted."

Tim wasn't that tired, he wondered how far out he had gone; he swore not that far but the young woman's words confused the untravelled young boy. He entered the young woman's home.

"Can I get you something child; some water?"

"Oh, yes please ma'am."

"Such a polite young man," the woman said, walking towards the kitchen and quickly returning, handing the glass of water to the young boy. Tim takes a sip or two and sets the glass down. "So where did you come from child?"

"My family was at the Townsend Estate; I must have gotten lost."

"Dear boy, that property is over twenty miles away," the woman lied. "How on Earth did you wind up here?"

"Twenty miles?! It can't be that far!" The boy screamed at the top of his lungs but it fell on deaf ears as he noticed the young woman was getting larger. It took him a few extra seconds to realize it was him that was shrinking until he was the size of a toy soldier on the human-sized chair.

The woman laughed; it boomed and shook Tim like an earthquake as the woman's hand swooped up and grabbed the young boy. She brought him close to her face, and burped loudly; the man was engulfed in a sea of garlic and alcohol, Tim frantically tried to fan it away but the fumes were so dense, they weren't going anywhere.

The woman chuckled, "That's good isn't it child?"

"No! No, it's awful!" Tim yells, his eyes watering from the strong belch still floating around his small body.

"Awww, I think you love it child; if not now, you will eventually," the woman said with a smile as she lifted her robe and stuffed the young boy into the crack of her ass, pressing him against her asshole; the smell inside is putrid, reeking of fermented shit and old, unwashed cum.

The woman's anus pulsates aggressively before pushing out against Tim's tiny body and blasting him with a tremendous fart that could have freed him from her ass but there was no such luck. The noxious gas filled his nose and mouth, burning his lungs and making him ill; his head starts to feel a lightheaded.

"Mmmmm, smells good doesn't it child?" The woman asks rhetorically, putting an angry emphasis on her taunt.


The woman rips another fart that streams lazily out of her asshole; the gas bubbles touch and burst evilly against the poor boy's face, baking it in stink. The boy starts to feel dizzy as the farts continue to blow against him; his eyes start to close as deadly fumes dance cruelly up his nostrils. He feels the life fall from his body and the woman laughs.

Slowly, the ghost of the boy drifts from his body upwardly; finally relief from such a hellish prison.

Suddenly, a short glass jar drops over the boy's spirit and holds him as the woman seals the lid.

How could this be? A jar holding a ghost?

The woman outside is laughing at the spirit in the small jar; "You're not going anywhere child. I will keep your soul, forever in this jar, and I will fart on you everyday; whenever I want."

She laughed as she unscrewed the jar again near her ass and shoved it up her crack, sealing it with her asshole.


A fart rang out and blew the young ghost boy around the jar and burned every inch of his spirit body with it's terrible odor; his body tainting to a shade of green as he choked on shit-filled air.

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