I’d been in my room, playing on the floor when the Goddess stormed in.
“Mom!” I scurried back in astonishment; her storming meant I was in trouble.
“It’s Mother you little brat!” She said angrily. Then a smile quickly filled her beautiful face, “But why don’t you get used to calling me Goddess sweetie.”
“Sylvia said you have this coming; why would she say that?”
“Because she hates me mo…Mother.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the Goddess says, sensually walking to her son; the fear in his eyes so evident. It excited her. “She’s your sister, she…loves you.”
The delay was a bit of a push; as her magnificent booty crossed my face, a flapping, squeaking, forceful gust blew back my hair and I immediately choked on the beany gas that assaulted my nose and clung like it clawed it’s way into my skin.
“I’m positive she only wants the best for you,” the Goddess says, grabbing my arm and dragging me, coughing and gagging to the bathroom.
The Goddess’ stomach rumbled so loudly, it was inhuman.
She looked sadistic as she positioned my head in the toilet; she clutched her stomach.
I was spared not even another glance as she rushed to place her big, naked booty on my face, it slipped deep within her profound crack.
Immediately, I was assaulted by a deep, penetrating, flappy, wet fart directly in my face. I trashed and fought as Mother giggled; then pushed.
Suddenly, I stopped, my body froze as a gargantuan, ten foot wide shit came plowing out of my Mother’s backside. Like a spear it force it’s way into my mouth, nearly dislocating my jaw; it filled my stomach and quickly overflowed my face with it’s juicy, drippy solid waste.
The Goddess floated on a pile of dumps as I kicked and trashed, buried deep within a smelly prison of old tacos, cheap burritos and undercooked beaned.
A strong, penetrating fart ripped through the sludge and filled my senses with a fresh, hot hell.
The Goddess, uncharacteristically laughed out loud, as she watched my feet stiffen then kick frantically under a hundred pound pile of shit.
With a very satisfied sigh, the Goddess stands and struts, unseen by her buried son, and switches off the light.
He, unfortunately, clearly hears her say, “Clean up fast shit face because my booty is still backed up. Shouldn’t take more than, three minutes, right? I’ll go make some bean quesadillas.”
I gag, gargle, and swallow shit of every variety; each lap is worse than the last; somehow each log more potent than the last; each spray darker, smellier, and more putrid.
My mouth is tired, exhausted; with a giant log in my mouth, I pass out.