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About Literature / Professional Member Closet FetishistMale/United States Groups :iconfemalefartstories: FemaleFartStories
 
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ClosetFetishist
Closet Fetishist
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
I've been writing fart fiction since 2006; I usually write in the theme of fart domination and torture and I have over 100 short stories.

After working feverishly for many years, I've slowed significantly with story writing and began to take an interest in doing fart domination captions for photos.


STORIES: www.asstr.org/~Closet_Fetishis…
PHOTO CAPTIONS: www.imagefap.com/profile/Close…
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/ClosetFetishi…
TWITTER: www.twitter.com/closetfetishis…

Shop 'Leo Pekon' on Amazon Books. Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.

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Mature Content Filter is On. The Artist has chosen to restrict viewing to deviants 18 and older.
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes, violence/gore and strong language)
I swear she just hired me to make fun of me. I mean, yeah I help with computers around the office but she just seems to delight in making me squirm.

"Hey Martin, could you come in here?" Her voice comes in on the intercom.

Ugh...what could this be?

I walk over to her office and open the door.

"Martin, come in. I got a new computer for my office and I'd like you to hook it up for me."

Why can't she do anything herself?

"Sure, where's the old CPU?"

"The what?"

"The CPU...the tower?"

"Like where I turn it on?"

"Yeah, that."

"Under the desk."

Great, crawling around on my knees under her desk; another fucking great day!

"Okay, and this is the new one?" I say, pointing to the obviously new CPU.

"Yup, that's it, I can see you've done this before," she smiles at her own joke.

I half-smile, I'm so sick of her. Maybe I'm just being an asshole.

She rolls her seat back as I bring the new CPU to her desk; her old unit is set far back in her desk, so I crawl down and start to unhook the old unit's wires.

She sighs, and scoots down in her chair, extending her feet back under her desk; close to me but not invasive. But she didn't wear shoes at her desk, her pantyhose didn't smell fresh as a sour odor started to waft around. I can't get out of here soon enough.

PRRRRRrrrrrruuuufffffffff!

A soft, rippling sound, I thought it was the leather of her chair at first until the smell hit me; a deep, cabbagy smell.

She farted! And while I'm stuck under her desk!

"Uhh.." I start to say...

"Are you almost finished?" She asks, a bit roughly.

"Yeah, I just need to get the new one..."

I start to come out towards her but she instead pushes the new CPU towards me, "Here," she says, roughly.

I take the CPU unit and start plugging in the wires.

"Oug, my stomach..."

"Um..." I start to stutter, fearfully.

BRRRRRRRrrrrrrrppppppppp!

Loudly now, almost like she didn't care, she farted; sliding closer to me. I was starting to question whether or not she was doing this on purpose or not.

Oh, god...the smell. I choke, gagging silently to avoid angering my boss...but this wasn't fair!

"Okay, I got it hooked up..."

I start to come out but she puts a foot on my face, holding me back, "Hold on, let me make sure everything works."

The smell of her foot was awful, like unwashed for god knows how long but thankfully she took it off my face and I was left with only the toxic gas that floated around under her desk.

PRRRRrrrrrrrppppp!

Oh, fuck...like fucking rotting eggs it smells like; "Uh...can I come out."

"No, something's wrong, the mouse doesn't seem to be working."

I turn, check the connection quickly while desperately breathing into my shirt as if that would do something to filter the air.

"Connection is fine, maybe the drivers; I can come out and..."

"I think I can figure it out, just tell me where to go."

Oh god..."Uh...well, okay, Control Panel."

"Oh, wait, where's that?"

"Uh...under Start, like on the bottom."

"Oh, okay, got it."

FFFFFFFFFrrrrrrpppppp!

No, god...the smell; please...

"Okay, then...um...Drivers and Hardware."

"Uh....I don't....oh, there..."

"Please, just let me..."

"No, no I got it. So what am I looking for..."

"Uh...the mouse, like, should be listed under..."

BRRRRRrrrrrrppppppp!

"Oh god, please just let me out!"

"What was that?" She sounds shocked, she rolls her chair out; a waft of cool air floods in from what feels like a desert storm of rancid gas under the desk.

I start to get back up to my feet.

"I'm sorry, I just...needed out of there."

Her expression is clearly angered, "Excuse me?!"

I don't know quite what to say...how can I say anything but the truth? "It...it just stinks so bad...I couldn't..."

She stands, towering just a bit taller than me; I shrink back a bit. She grabs me by the throat and forces my head down to her chair. And she holds me there, struggling and kicking, choking, before she sits on my face.

Under her, the smell is like hell; a smell of pure sulfur and rotting vegetables, the seat of her pants wet with sweat that feels soaked in the rancid smell of her gas.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrruuuuuuuupppp!

A burning hot fart bursts across my face with force as my eyelids flutter like in a windstorm; my face paralyzed before forced to take in the horrid smell of her farts.

"Please, no..." I beg under her, muffled and smashed under her ass.

She sits harder, all her weight on my face. PRRRRRRRrrrrrpppp!

I scream and cry, trying to throw her off but it's no use as she assaults my senses with the poison of her gas.

Then, she quickly stands, looking down at me; satisfied but not smiling, "Your job is to obey me, understand?! If you don't like how I'm treating you, or the work that you're doing here, you can give me your resignation right now. Got it?!"

I shudder in place, "Yuh..yes...ma'a.."

"Uh-uh, call me...Goddess from now on," she smiles.

I scramble to my feet, "Uh...what about the mouse...uh, Goddess?"

She smiles, "Oh, there was never anything wrong with the mouse."

She pats my shoulder as she walks back to her chair, staring at me and smiling; once again, her punching bag...now in the worst way.

I open the door to her office to leave.

"See you tomorrow, Martin," she says, tauntingly.

I nod, softly, obediently. I close her door behind me.
Mature Content Filter is On. The Artist has chosen to restrict viewing to deviants 18 and older.
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes, violence/gore and strong language)
The boss shifts, awkwardly on her chair. BRRRRrrrrruuuuuppp!

She sighs in relief.

Below her, under her ass, Martin softly shook and cawed, trying desperately to survive breathing in the boss' putrid gas.

PRRRrrrrpppp!

"MMm, it's good today, isn't it, Martin"

"Mrrumm," I mumbled, in the affirmative.

"That's a good boy; you've learned well."

She lifts up off my face, clutching her stomach; FRRRRRrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuupp!

The putrid stench paints my face with an almost visible cloud of gas; and she sits back down, proudly, sealing me in with her stink.

After what felt like forever, she finally lifted up and pushed me back; a sign we were done. I coughed as silently as I could as I desperately heaved to get oxygen back in my lungs.

"That's enough, Martin; you're done, I need to speak with you about something rather important."

She looks down at me from her standing position as I breathe heavily, trying to recover from her gas attack.

"Martin, I'm a bit sorry to say this but, I can't justify you as an expense anymore. Your position just isn't necessary; and, as much as I don't want to lose you, I no longer have the money to pay you."

I just look at her blankly, I can't believe this is happening. After all I did for that bitch; literally sniffing her ass!

"There's really only one way you could stay."

"What's that?" I ask, hopeless at this point.

"You'd have to convince the other employees to lose their bonuses this year."

I think hard for a moment; how difficult would that be? Probably impossible. Or maybe not, maybe it's worth it...no, fuck, what am I saying; I could just be free and get away from all this. Finding a new job might be hard though...is this really so bad. No of course it fucking is, you're sniffing gas for a job; that's no life. But it is...sorta easy...I guess. The money's not bad now. Temporary pain, life time leisure; maybe I should give this a shot.

"Well?" The boss asks.

"I'll do it, I'll try to convince them."

"What a determined little sniffer you are, I knew I picked the right nose for this job; hahaha!"

Oh, god...I'm her fucking pet; her slave

"Well, get going; you've got a lot of work to do, Martin."

I exit her office and head to the first desk; it's Janet, she's the only one her kinda nice to me. She says Hi at least.

She sits, working dutifully at her desk; the computer monitor reflecting off her glasses. She sees me approach.

"Hey Martin, how's it going?"

"Not bad, not bad...um...I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, shoot."

"Uh, well, they say I'm going to get fired."

"Oh no, that's terrible"

"I know, it really would suck; but there is hope. Um...which is why I'm here. I have to convince everyone to not take a bonus this year to keep my job."

"Oh..."

"Is that, a problem?"

"I mean...no, I guess it's not; I was kind of counting on that money this year but, no I mean...if you're willing to do something a bit different for me, maybe I could work it out."

"Sure, whatever it is; I'll do it."

"Okay, okay, great! This is exciting! Do you mind if we do it now?"

"Uh...what is it?"

"Well, I want you to kneel next to my desk here, okay?"

"Okay..." I say, a bit perplexed as I kneel near her.

"Now, open your mouth."

I do as she asks...but this can't be good...

I hear her scrape her throat with her tongue, grumbling softly before hocking back and spitting right in my mouth; almost choking me on the massive loogie.

She giggled in delight as she watched my eyes wince to her spit.

"Oh, god, that felt amazing. Here, here, here; get on the floor!"

She pushes me down to the floor, kicks off her shoes quickly and plans her panty hosed feet in my face; they smell wretched, unwashed, sweaty.

I moan softly under her and watch, between toes, her start to touch herself.

She takes a moment to lift up to put all her weight on her foot in my face, like trying to crush me.

She sits back down forcefully and grabs me by the hair; tugging me near her already wet pussy.

"Eat me," she whispers down to me like a command.

I'm assaulted by putrid smells of her less than groomed vagina; I force my tongue in and feel like puking almost instantly.

She wraps her legs around my head and holds me there, making me taste her and nothing else.

FFrrrrpp!

She let out a little fart, then squeezed harder; "You smell that, bitch!"

I had no choice as I was forced to eat out her pussy, the smell wafted to me; mixing with the sour smell I was already enduring.

She shakes my head violently, gritting her teeth as she spurts out a bit on my face and finally settles down, sitting normally finally. After a minute of holding me there, gently stroking my hair, she released me to fall on my back.

"God, yeah, you can keep your job; just so long as you keep doing that."

"I..."

"Yes, you will be serving me; you understand? If it's not here, I'll find you and make you my slave, permanently; got it?!"

"Yuh...yes..."

"Good. Now run along; you've got more employees to convince," she chuckles to herself, no longer even looking at me.

Next was Angela. She hates me. I asked her out once, it was awkward; she never let me forget it. But not even as a joke; just a cruel attempt to make me relieve the humiliation. Maybe I should wait on her until last...

"Martin!" She calls out.

Fuck. I'm fucked.

"Martin, come here;" she roughly grabs my arm, dragging me to the center of the room.

"Ladies! I'd like to make an announcement. Martin here is in danger of being fired; so he's going around begging us to drop our bonuses this year."

I shook with fear under her grip.

"Now, I know we all love having Martin here and he's willing to show us how much he loves working with us. So let's give Martin the chance to serve us all, right now!"

"Oh, god, no," I whisper.

Angela pulls me down to the ground and sits on my face like a stool.

BRRRRRRrrrpppp!

Her fart is hot and eggy; it smells putrid underneath her ass, but quickly she rises up and another, fatter butt, comes into view before the light is sealed out.

FFFFFFfffrrrrruuuuuuummmmppppp!

A long bassy fart practically blows my face away; as she stands, I fall to the ground where another ass is waiting, squatting inches above; no panties in sight.

PRRRRrrrrrrrrpppppppp!

A slightly wet fart splatters my face as I continue to inhale the putrid gas around me; dizzy now and losing consciousness.

A hand lifts me by the hair into another ass; jeans pulled down.

PRRRrrrrrrpppppppp!

As soon as released, I drop my head back and watch a small line of three women spit right in my face.

"Please, no..." I beg but it goes unheard or unacknowledged.

Finally, I hear the women start to depart; one or two remain to rip a few, airy farts in my abused and broken face but the worst of it seems over.

The boss comes out from her office, briefcase in hand; leaving for the night.

She walks over with a big smile, "Well, you did it; you're staying on Martin, congratulations."

I was no longer sure that was a good thing; but now what choice did I have?"

"Well, I'm glad you're staying Martin; and I got you a gift to celebrate."

My eyes light up just a little; maybe this was all some test...maybe now I'd be respected.

"I need you to stay overnight tonight; but you won't be lonely."

From the front doors, walks in a woman of at least 400 pounds; she's gigantic, and tall!

Oh, my god...she's going to be...

"Martin, this is Lynn; she's a new overnight intern. She'll be...urm...keeping you company tonight."

My eyes widen.

"Specifically, your face," the boss added with a slight chuckle as she exited the office.

Lynn stands right in front of me now, I look up at her.

She smiles, cruelly, "Ready to get started?"
Chopping Block
Martin's job is in danger of being eliminated, but he may be able to save it if he can convince the other employees to take a financial hit for him.
Loading...
Mature Content Filter is On. The Artist has chosen to restrict viewing to deviants 18 and older.
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes, violence/gore and strong language)
It's 12:14 am. I'm only just driving home from work now; I can't believe they expected me to finish two manuals before morning. What bullshit!

It's a foggy night, I can't see too far ahead on the road; just a sea of green lights. The roads are quiet.

A soft tone rings in the car. Ah, fuck; gas light. Another fucking delay. What a shit day.

I pull into the gas station; I step out. I rub my eyes; I'm barely awake as I stand there, staring blankly at the road.

A white SUV comes, parks at the pump on the opposite side of mine. No one comes out right away.

My pump clicks finished; I turn to reach for the handle.

Shuffling feet. Then a sharp pain on the back of my head; I hit the side of my car on the way down; then I was out.


I wake in darkness. As I come to, moving slightly, I hear rustling all around me. Every move I make seems to rustle like paper.

I try to take a breath, but something covers my mouth; I deeply inhale from my nostrils, breathing through my uncovered nostrils.

What the fuck is this?!

I hear voices. Soft voices; they sound like they are approaching. Should I call out, try to make a sound? Am I hidden?

I softly moan out. The voices just continue, louder now, as if nearby, but in hushed tones; I can't hear make out a thing.

I moan out, louder this time; more deliberate.

Then I hear soft giggles.

I hear more deliberate footfalls approach; coming quick.

"Happy Birthday mom!" I hear two young women yell out in unison.

"Oh my! What a surprise; and what on Earth?"

"We wanted to get you something special," one of the girls says.

"Something you couldn't get anywhere else," says the other.

Rustling again, and I feel paper pushed against me. Am I wrapped?!

Loud ripping around my head and a bright light comes in, blinding my eyes.

As they adjust, I see two young women at my sides; they beam down at me.

And in the center of them; a middle-aged woman. Beautiful, hair mussed; wearing a bathrobe wrapped tightly around her waist. She smiled too; her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh my god! Sweeties. This is so nice...," the mother says, looking down straight at me.

I look over to one of the girls, "I knew you'd love it mom!"

My eyes go wide; I look to the other girl.

"It's just for you, try it out!"

The mother disrobes, her body as beautiful as her face; wearing only a bra and panties; the robe drops to the floor.

She steps towards me, "I guess it's a good thing I didn't fart yet this morning."

The girls laugh out loud. What did she say?!

I moan, trying to yell; trying to protest.

They all just smile down at me, grinning evilly; they didn't care about my protest. They were going to do whatever they wanted with me; and what they want to do is...

The mother's tight butt, panties pulled down around her thighs, crashes roughly against my face; the girls giggling.

"Ouufff, I can tell this is going to be a big one...," the mother strains.

The girls laugh.

The mother groans just a little.

PPPFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrpppppppppp!

She sighs euphorically; looking back at me.

I scream in pure terror as the hot gas rushes up my nostrils with such force; I feel the wind blowing roughly around my brain.

And then the smell; oh, god, the smell! Like eggs and garlic; oh god please...I gasp and gag, dry heave as the putrid crack of the mother's ass is pressed against my face; holding the smell there.

I beg, I plea under the retched torture but it just comes out as muffled cries that just incite laugher from the women.

The mother chuckles as she lifts up, my head goes back by the force of her ass pushing until she sits down; putting most her weight on my face. God it hurts so much; my neck is going to break off! Please.....don't do this!

"This feels so good girls; I feel his breath as he's sucking up my gas. I can't believe I've waited so long to do this. Thank you, girls," the mother says.

Oh god....I feel her butthole opening against my nose...no, please!!!

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRrrrrrpppppppp!

She sighs in relief. The putrid veggie smell pours up my nostril like an ocean wave; and I choke in the same way but unable to cough.

I puke but have to swallow it; taking in deep, desperate sniffs of gassy tainted air. I wheeze heavily, my throat dry; my nostrils burn. I sob openly, crying between screams.

The mother slides forward, finally dropping from my face; my neck cracks as she moves down but still maintains her butt pressed directly in my face.

She looks down, right at me, my eyes which are pleading with her to stop; to remove her toxic ass from being pressed against my nose. Tears roll down my face, down my cheeks to hers.

The mother smirks, "Are you enjoying this?"

She digs her bare heel into my crotch; I moan out in pain. Fucking sadistic bitch!

One of the girls pipes in, "I think he is! Gross!"

"Ah, this is great; thank you so much. I am really going to enjoy this; were you planning on staying in with me and using him?"

"Uh...," one of the girls answers, hesitant.

The other pipes in, "We figured you'd want to use him yourself today...right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Nice girls...real nice; make plans on your mother's birthday."

"Well...we could be back for dinner, I guess."

A long silence. "Urm...yeah...I guess."

"Well, I'd hate to burden you girls."

"Great! So we'll see you when we see you!"

"Happy birthday mom!"

Footsteps rush out and the door slams.

The mother finally moves her butt off my face and I get my first nostril full of fresh oxygen in a long while. I try to shuffle forward but tip and fall on my face. I wiggle around until I'm finally on my back; the mother standing tall over me.

"Now then," she starts, authoritatively, "how to proceed with you," she asks herself; looking at me. "I figure you probably haven't learned your place yet."

I look at her, still recovering on the floor, my nostrils flaring wildly to the clean air; perplexed.

"That's what I thought."

She rushes over, squatting her panty-covered butt just inches from my face; I scream...

BRRRRrrrrrrpppppppp!

She stays there, "Smell that!"

Is this bitch insane?!

"You're my property now; you exist to sniff my farts and whatever else I may think up for you. Do you understand?!" She demands.

I scream louder, like bloody murder; somehow her atrocious gas is worse this time. Or the break to sweet and too short to end to this horror.

She sits down, FFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrpppppppppppp!

And endless fart ripples against my face with a hot spread that overpowers me; I feel my eyes roll back in my head as my nostrils take a big, unwilling inhale of the monster blast she ripped through my face.

And she gets up; my nostrils gaping and sucking in as much oxygen as it can, as if this was the last time.

"You'll do what I say, do you understand that?" She asks, calmly again.

I look at her, tears running from my eyes; maybe agreeing will end this torture, god I'll do anything at this point. Anything just to end it.

I nod.

"That's a good boy," she says, walking away, to another part of the kitchen.

I smile behind my bind, my eyes squinted. Is it over?

She walks back casually, "Of course, I can't release you until I'm sure I can trust you."

She leans down near my face; shadowing mine with hers, "You understand, don't you?"

She wrinkles her nose, "Phew, you really stink." She grins.

Oh god, I think she's going to keep me here forever.
I get the feeling sometimes like the fantasy is not enough. I'm not sure I'd like to turn fart fetish into a reality either but, every so often, the boredom kicks in; the emptiness from lack of connection. And ails in a way that reading stories and looking at pictures can't fix. Fetish or not, I'm not a real social guy. I have friends, I do work I'm passionate about, I struggle like most of us; but I feel alone. I know I'm not alone in that feeling, but it doesn't alleviate the feelings to know others suffer with you. 

I'm not a young man, I'm not an old man either but society seems programmed in a way I am not. Articles about the importance of daily sex when the last time I had sex or was around someone who wanted to have sex was over a year ago. And fuck sex, that's not the biggest of deals for me; it's the closeness, the intimacy, confiding in someone, laying next to someone when you fall asleep, the warmth of their body next to yours. And it's fine, I'll focus on me and my work; but it's a lonely place to be.

There's no time for a woman right now, even one as easy going as myself; but even if there was, it wouldn't change the way I operate. It won't make me comfortable or fluid enough to take talking to flirting. I'm just not that guy. I wish someone could see through me; I've come so far as person, made so many improvements physically, socially, mentally (I guess), and yet it's not as far as I'd like. I have a feeling we never get as far as we'd like, for if we did, we'd stop trying, right?

And then I think it's okay. I got this fucking weird ass fetish anyways so why subject myself to that; a possible humiliation of telling someone or them finding out? It's moments like these when I question the fetish, I fall out of the fantasy of dreaming about abusive, mean women in a heart aching desire to be close to someone, instead of tortured by a fantasy.
I often wonder who I am. In years of life, you start to get a feel for it; things you like, things you don't like, the building blocks of you as a person. I'm sure I'm not done finding myself but I feel like, outside the fetish, for the most part, I know who I am. It's within the fetish that I don't know.

I know I'm a writer. I don't love writing, it isn't something I think of with great pleasure; it's work. Yes, it's pornographic or erotic but it's also work. I guess I'm lucky in that, once I start writing, it's difficult to stop until I'm finished. I too enjoy the sense of completion; the crossing off of something from the to-do list, to get it off the plate.

But who else am I? I'm often at such a struggle; to anyone else, I'm completely normal and that's a valid, true side of me. But then there's this other side of me, the side most people don't know or can't attribute to my name because it's hidden. Where as men talk about normal vanilla sex, I find myself quiet; I'm not aroused by normal vanilla sex. In fact, I get off by thinking myself the submissive; but to admit a submissive inclination to a group of male friends? That seems foolish and to call upon ridicule.

In society, we don't speak about sex unless it's generally the "normal" type; heterosexual or homosexual, people are generally talking about penis in the vagina or ass sex. Only in the present day, the modern day am I hearing more mainstream references made to the concept of facesitting (I believe American Dad and Cleveland Show each had at least one); it's good, but it's still going to be a long time before any of us feel conformable talking about this. If ever.

Which I also find confusing. It's sex. It's something you don't generally talk about in everyday conversation; so, it almost becomes the question of, does this need to be mainstream knowledge? To know about us and accept us? It actually almost seems foolish to think otherwise actually; why don't our feelings, our thoughts on eroticism deserve to be respected? Is it because we question our own sanity in liking this that we start to question whether the mainstream ever has to know about it?

I feel that way, I question my sanity every day and wonder why the fuck I can't just get off to watching regular porn like a normal person. Why, on top of what already makes life hard in general, I had to be burdened with these feelings that put me so outside the spectrum of normalcy, that I'm scared to talk about it.

I know I don't want to be afraid. I don't know how I'm not going to be, but I know I don't want to be.

I question even whether I like this at times. I think my stories would argue strongly that I do. But I don't know, would I ever really want it to happen to me? Be farted on, in the face. I don't know. I don't even know if I want to know. Maybe that's residual character fear from the stories. Maybe I never wanted it in the first place but it's hard then, to live in a world that's strictly fantasy. Or I think it is. I mean; this "fantasy" has gone on for 8 years professionally, let's guess 20 years in my head; eventually, it has to go somewhere because there's not going to be an amazing, affordable technology that's going to blow my mind in the fetish realm.

I've definitely seen a lot of content, it's kinda all the same after all those years; just the models change, the farts sound differ, but overall, it's the same. My stories, they're the same; that's why I didn't want to write for a while. My stories are still the same; they are written better, yes, but mostly, everything is the same.

I guess I know that about me; I feel I've hit a wall.
I get the feeling sometimes like the fantasy is not enough. I'm not sure I'd like to turn fart fetish into a reality either but, every so often, the boredom kicks in; the emptiness from lack of connection. And ails in a way that reading stories and looking at pictures can't fix. Fetish or not, I'm not a real social guy. I have friends, I do work I'm passionate about, I struggle like most of us; but I feel alone. I know I'm not alone in that feeling, but it doesn't alleviate the feelings to know others suffer with you. 

I'm not a young man, I'm not an old man either but society seems programmed in a way I am not. Articles about the importance of daily sex when the last time I had sex or was around someone who wanted to have sex was over a year ago. And fuck sex, that's not the biggest of deals for me; it's the closeness, the intimacy, confiding in someone, laying next to someone when you fall asleep, the warmth of their body next to yours. And it's fine, I'll focus on me and my work; but it's a lonely place to be.

There's no time for a woman right now, even one as easy going as myself; but even if there was, it wouldn't change the way I operate. It won't make me comfortable or fluid enough to take talking to flirting. I'm just not that guy. I wish someone could see through me; I've come so far as person, made so many improvements physically, socially, mentally (I guess), and yet it's not as far as I'd like. I have a feeling we never get as far as we'd like, for if we did, we'd stop trying, right?

And then I think it's okay. I got this fucking weird ass fetish anyways so why subject myself to that; a possible humiliation of telling someone or them finding out? It's moments like these when I question the fetish, I fall out of the fantasy of dreaming about abusive, mean women in a heart aching desire to be close to someone, instead of tortured by a fantasy.

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:iconfartstink:
Fartstink Featured By Owner May 6, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the Favorites Icon 3D , sir!
Reply
:iconclosetfetishist:
ClosetFetishist Featured By Owner May 6, 2015  Professional Writer
No problem; thank you for the great story, looking forward to reading more stories from you.
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:iconnomarcy:
NoMarcy Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2015
LOL still at your peak, I see.
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:iconclosetfetishist:
ClosetFetishist Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2015  Professional Writer
I appreciate that; or if sarcastic...still, I appreciate that; thanks. :)
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:iconnomarcy:
NoMarcy Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2015
LOL it's not sarcastic. Putting out as many stories as you've been doing is fun to see because I'm used to most longtime artists being finished before I start contributing and stuff :rose:
You're welcooooooome~
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