Judge and Suffer (Farts vs Scat)

Chrysalis strains her body, trying to hold back her horrible vapors, while shoving your weak body into the small chamber beneath her throne. Both to spare herself from the potent stench, but also to not waste her fumes before getting you restrained in the stinky torture room.

Once you're down there, body restrained, and completely at your captor's mercy, you're reunited with the familiar foul smell of your previous five-hour stink session, caused by the sheer amount of farts she's unleashed into this chamber, making you gag at the damp cloud of queenly flatulence.

As soon as you've had your first smell, the looming queen slams her fat ass down, just in time to let her thick, steamy blast of putrid ass gas shoot straight into your nostrils, increasing the already potent stench with the addition of more overpowering farts.

You gag and wrench as your queen deluges the tiny gas chamber with a barrage of stinky, rancid emissions of intestinal gas.

As you open your mouth to gag, she lets a forceful fart erupt straight into your open mouth, making you taste the foulness to an even greater extent.

In your suffering, you hear her laugh as she continues to push out her stinkers in your face.

"Ahhh, inhale my fart stench, Pet. Inhale it all an endure this stinky torment. Suffer for your queen!!"

Completely at her mercy, you sniff up fart after fart, as she releases them at a still surprisingly rapid rate.

After half an hour of nonstop ass steam, she finally starts slowing down her rump a bit, but she's still feeding you fresh farts more than nine times per minute.

The air inside the Queen's fart-hole is now so foul smelling, that every breath you take makes your body shake involuntarily. Your primal reflexes are constantly kicking in, trying to move your body out of the contaminated area to no avail.

Time goes slowly, but she keeps sitting on you. A gag has been teleported into your mouth.

Another ten stinky hours pass by, with your Queen sitting atop her throne occasionally increasing the potency of your stinky air with another torturous release. By now your reflexes have given up completely, and so has your gagging and coughing. You lie limb, and meek, suffering her putrid stench in silence, as it continues to get worse by the minute.

You've surrendered yourself to your owner's ass gas, and accepted your stinky fate. Even as a series of particularly nasty, spluttering, moist, stink bombs, splashes your face with fart-juice, gradually making it leak into your exposed nostrils, you just take your fartboarding without protesting in the slightest, despite you suffering immensely both due to the stench increasing even further, and due to the feeling of drowning in moist farts. Your body has simply given up responding.

"HNNGG! Ahhh. How do you like sniffing up my ass juice, Bitch? I often use pissboarding as a way to punish prisoners, but with farts this wet, who needs it."

As she says this, yet another even sloppier poot escapes her rectum, bathing your face in anal leakage. The smell is getting more fecal.

"Ohh, it feels... Like you're about to get something else into those lungs of yours..."

Suddenly... Light. The Queen rises her rump from its seat and you feel a piece of cloth being placed on top of your face, before she plops back down again.

"If we're gonna do this type of torture, we're gonna do it right... Get ready for a shitty drowning, pet."

You're given no time to prepare before she unleashes yet another moist stinker that quickly turns from just a wet fart to a shower of watery scat, filling your nostrils with her nasty chocolate milk.

The intensified feeling of drowning awakens your limb body from its concession, and you splutter and wiggle as you feel like you're drowning in her poop soup.

She holds her shit shower, just for long enough for you to get a breath of fart air, while still feeling like drowning due to the soaking piece of cloth, before she lets her sewage run again.

"Ahh, yes! Fill your lungs with my feces!! Drown for your Queen!!"

You struggle for all your worth as she goes back and forth between drowning you in feces, and letting you struggle to inhale her farts through the diarrhea soaked cloth.

"Hnnng, I feel something solid coming... It's dinnertime, toilet!!"