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The Purge Begins
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: October 5th, 2014

Barry's wide eyes reflect the light from his computer screen; sweat forming at his hairline.

He types a few quick sequences on his keyboard without taking his eyes off the screen; windows pop up rapidly, his eyes quickly glancing at each once.

The screens stop and he leans in, staring at a particularly telling entry line; he scrolls down.


Barry jumps, startled; his keyboard hand twitches as if flicking an imaginary pen. He slides back in his chair and turns; it's Natalie, coworker and friend.

"Sorry," she holds back laughter, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Barry's hand on his face, he wipes his eyes; "You didn't scare me...caught me off guard is all."

"Of course, so, I just wondered if you wanted some coffee? I was gonna make a run."

"Ah, no, thank you though."

She shrugs and walks off, down the platform; she was cute, a bit nerdy it seemed but her figure was nice and she seemed pretty smart.

The lights dim in the facility, then steady.

And surge again. Then darkness.

Power out. The computers on battery backups, the monitors now illuminate the room.

Natalie returns to Barry.

"What do you think caused that?"

"Not sure, could be anything," Barry answers.

Natalie looks at the ceiling as if the answer will appear. But nothing does.

"Well, you could probably still get coffee if you wanted; it's probably nothing serious."

"Yeah? I guess so. Alright, yeah, I'll go; I'll be right back."

Barry smiles and nods sincerely.

Natalie looks at Barry from the door; he notices - does a wide mouth smile and single arm wave across his face. Natalie laughs and exits.

Barry sighs to himself; why hadn't he gone for her? Clearly she liked him. Just a struggle of how; she's a coworker, that makes it like "Oh, what, you just came up with this now?"

Ah, what the fuck; when she gets back...


A bright flash overcomes the room, blinding everyone; the facility employees drop to the ground, hands on their heads, as they were trained to do.

Voices and rushing footsteps; heavy boots, running around.

Barry cups a shaking hand over his eyes, looking down; he removes it. Cautiously, he looks up.

A figure, dressed in black camouflage, with a wrap covering the face and dark sunglasses over the eyes.

And the butt of a gun, flying perilously towards his face.


Barry is out.


With a throbbing pain on his forehead, Barry's eyes slowly opened. On the wall opposite him, a worn poster of a woman in black military uniform; her mouth open as if yelling. The fading text reads: "General Oro Stands for Peace!"

Barry's body is sat up in a corner of a stone cell. He stirs slightly, his clothes scratching against his skin. He notices his clothes have been replaced with a crudely made shirt and pant of burlap, with just a rope string to keep the pants up.

Close by in the darkness unseen, a metal door creaked open; footsteps approaching in unison.

Barry tries to look tough as he cowers further into his corner.

Bright lights strike with a metallic CLUNK.

Barry averts his eyes while still trying to see who approaches. As his eyes adjust, he sees the modest sized cell around him; but it appears ancient, slimy stone floors, iron bars. It was nothing short of a medieval dungeon.

Steps get even closer, then appear on just the other side of the bars. Three slim figures, in all black uniforms; each had a different color cloth over their face with only their eyes visible like a bandit.

"Greech, Barry." One of the voices, Blue, says; looking down at a clipboard.

Barry shakes a bit, hearing his name.

The one in front, Red, looks to Blue and nods firmly.

Blue and the other figure, Yellow, side open the door and rush to Barry; they grab him, hold him down while pushing him to lay on the floor.

"What are you doing? What are you doing?!" Barry yells, frantic and fighting.

Red appears above Barry, holding a clear cube with no bottom, a small semi-circular hole near the bottom on one side, and a small oval hole at the top. Red puts the box down over Barry, the semi-circle accommodating his neck so the box sits flat on the hard ground.

Barry's head is now encased in this clear cube, just a few inches of clearance on either side; enough room to turn his head, and even that, just barely.

Red signals Yellow and Blue to leave; they do so but leave the cell door open.

Red reaches up for the cloth covering; pulls it off, revealing a woman underneath. Her face cute.

"Sorry for all the procedures, Mr. Greech; can't be too careful."

"What is this!?" Barry's voice echos in the cube.

"No, you misunderstand; I'll be asking you questions."

"I don't know anything!"

She smirks, "Well then, I guess we can skip right ahead then..."

The woman pulls down her black pants; her black underwear.

Barry's eyes widen as he starts to understand what's happening to him; he yells as the woman's butt comes down over the hole above, sealing Barry's cube.

"So, you're sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

"I'll tell you anything, just please..."

"Oh? But you said you didn't know anything."


Barry's head shakes in disbelief at the gassy emission that wafts down to him and invades his nostrils. His head recoils back in disgust; a sight that makes the woman grin wide - his first fart.

"I don't but you didn't ask, maybe I do!"


PRRRrrrpp! "Is it worth it? I mean, you seemed pretty sure. Maybe you're just saying that you know something, so you can try to avoid my gas."


"Is that possible?" She asks, pointedly; she stares down at him between her legs, her butthole pulses in and out furiously.

"No, no," Barry shouts, pleading.

"So what is this information?"

"I have names, names of workers."

Her bootyhole opens wide, she closes her eyes in concentration and she pushes out a big airy fart that she passes with difficulty as it explodes loudly in the cube.


The gassy emission drives Barry mad as his head rattles against the plexiglass cube; the woman above giggling to herself.

"Names? We have all the names we require. I'll let you in on a secret..." She parts her legs to look down at Barry, sincerly.

"I know you don't have any information I could use."

"So why torture me?"

She grins, "Because torturing is fun."


"Now smell that fart and tell me what other information you think you have;" she laughs, tiny farts escape her uncontrollably.

Barry starts to choke, suffocating in the small cube of noxious farts, his vision getting hazy.

The woman looks down at the suffering Barry and pulls up one of the sides, allowing her gassy emissions to escape the box prison around Barry's head.

Fresh air flooded in and Barry started to feel better; he greedily takes in breaths of oxygen, tilting his head towards the fresh air; the moving air outside the cube.

Then she closed the side again.

Barry looks up right on time.


"Mmmm, back to smelling my farts; I know you love it."

Barry shakes his entire body, hoping to break free from the box but it's useless and his heavy breathing oxygen only allows the fart air deeper in his nostrils as he recovers from the fight. He feels like he's going to puke and choke at the same time.


Barry's dry throat gags, looking for oxygen but only treated to thick, potent gas from this woman's ass.

He tries to say something but it doesn't come out; his head falls back, lifelessly.


Barry wakes with a fright. The box is gone around him, the smell somewhat remains though it could be in his nose rather than the air around the cell. He tries to pick at it to get it out but it's hopeless.

Fuck...this is fucked up.

Footsteps approach, Barry turns his head to the sound in the darkness; he sees nothing yet still shivers, knowing what it must be.

The cell door creaks open but still in darkness; Barry skirts up along the wall, terrified.

A figured lunges from the darkness, hand out to put over Barry's mouth.

"Shhhh!" The figure whispers.

Barry's eyes wide, mouth covered; he stares at the figure, trying to see who it is.

"I thought you might want that coffee now."

"Natalie," Barry says in recognition and relief, his mouth still covered; the words muffled.

"Hey, shut the fuck up!" She whispers, "You know what'll happen if they find me?"

Natalie releases Barry's mouth.

"Sorry." Barry whispers, "But what the fuck is going on?"

"No time, simple answer; the side of feminists that actually hate men, won; now they are rounding them up and killing them."


"What's so hard to understand about that?"

"Does that seem fucking normal to you?!" Barry whispers colorfully.

"It doesn't matter; their cause is getting stronger everyday. The attack on our facility gave them what they needed to isolate the infrastructure. Now they are going after media channels. It's a coup; they're taking over."

Barry looks deeply concerned, barely hiding his helplessness; now not only for himself but all of mankind.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Natalie grabs Barry by the arm and pulls him through the dark prison corridor and into a dimly lit air duct; from there they crawl.

Through the ducts, patches of light and dark. Whispers echo through the ducts, likely from elsewhere; hopefully. Natalie removes the panel of the duct on the other side; they crawl through and emerge in another room, pitch black.

Natalie feels around, finally touching something rubber; "Good! Here," she says, handing off the rubber something to Barry.

It's a mask; Natalie helps Barry put the strap over his head.

"What's this for?" Barry asks, his voice muffled by the mask.

Natalie whispers, "You're gonna be in here a while, you'll need it. Stay quiet."

Barry can't see Natalie as she starts to walk away, "Wait, Natalie...I've always wanted to tell you...I think I love you."

Barry smiles in the darkness, feeling good about getting that off his chest; he waits for a reply.

Nothing comes.

"Natalie?" Barry whispers out in hushed tones.

Quick footsteps approach and harshly grab Barry's arms, forcibly pulling them behind him and handcuffing them.

"Hey, what the...?!"

He shakes and trying to free himself, trying to shake the mask off his face but even as he loosened it; the figures tighten it more painfully against his head.

Blinding white light.

Barry's eyes slowly adjust. He looks up; eyes widening when he sees a glass ceiling several feet above him, with at least fifty women standing there, all naked, looking down at him.

The women stand on this glass ceiling, though, for them, it would be a glass floor to look down upon the inferior; the height of luxury and dominance.

Barry notices that all the women have tubes, coming from their butts. He traces the tubes down to the ceiling above, where the tubes connect to a single tube that he follows to...his own mask.

Barry looks up again and the women smile wide as he comes to the realization, some nod knowingly. The women above reposition themselves, starting to squat; they still look down at Barry, many of them wanting to see his initial reaction.

He screams!



The first farts echo out and rumbles down the tube. As the smell reaches Barry's nose he can almost smell the wetness of them as they splatter their way through. He chokes like a stoner who's taken too much; the stench thick and eggy.




Barry shakes his head as if to make a plea to the collective of women; a plea that falls on deaf ears or is drowned out by gas.


The second roars like a tuba.

Barry's throat dries, his nose burns and began to chap.




Farts ring out continuously, endlessly; pummeling Barry with an inhuman stench from an army of gassy women. Barry moans out like a mummy as the farts no doubt begin to erode and rot his skin.



Barry's eyes dart wildly, dizzy and dry as more flatulence rains down on him.


A large gassy gust in his mask easily knocks Barry's weak body back; his head hits hard on the floor.

His eyes flutter open and close as the fart assault continues to burn his face; the women above him chuckle, looking determined to rip a deadly fart down their tube and into Barry's helpless face. They laugh uproariously as their gas echoes through the tubes and made Barry's head recoil, his face react to such potent farts.

His head spins, darting from side to side on the floor; every inch of his view covered by naked women above, farting down into his breathing tube.

His eyes finally rest on one woman, entering the crowd. It's Natalie. She looks down at Barry, she's naked now; smiles evilly as she jams the tube up her butt. She smirks, closes her eyes in concentration.


Her fart roars through the tube and caresses Barry's face with an eggy, cheesy smell that joins the other shit smelling air.

He chokes up once, his body convulsing then stiffening; his head falls back lifelessly. Eyes close. Involuntarily, he smiles.

Relief at last.

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