Death by gas chamber
The underside of Priya’s couch had a large gas chamber that seemed to have made its way there from Nazi Germany. The topside of it had two slots, presumably for the two mistresses to sit in complete luxury. The sides had exactly six slots, each barely large enough to fit a grown man’s head. It had vacuum pumps on the sides to ensure that the chamber was air-tight. The rules of the next elimination round became abundantly clear, but Priya explained them anyway. “Some people call this the fartbox, I call it an elimination chamber. We are going to sit on this box and fart on you losers until four of you suffocate and die from the stink. The remaining two boys will work as our shit eaters.”
“Wow! I’ve never killed four boys at a time, at least not with my farts.” Aditi said. “This will be so much fun!”
“We can watch a nice movie and eat these spicy chips and sauce while they suffocate from our farts,” Priya explained, bringing her friend a large bag of chips and turning on her large TV. Soon, the girls were stuffing our heads into the elimination chamber.
Aditi strangled my neck and pulled me up to her crotch. I want your ugly face right below my ass where I can fart on you until you die for me. If you don’t die from the stink of my farts, I will kick your balls until you do.” She spat on my face and shoved my face into the dark wooden chamber. “Nobody eats Aditi’s shit and lives to talk about it.” The chamber was perfectly air tight as well as cramped. I could feel the heads of five other men in it struggling and fighting for breath.
We soon felt the chamber shut down tight and cut off the already short supply of air. The vacuum pump turned on, depleting the air supply further down. All we did feel was the weight of the girls taking their seats on top of the chamber, ready to fart on us with all their might. For a while, the chamber was fully silent but minutes later it was brimming with the Mistresses’ noisy hot farts. As the only air we were allowed to breathe, their farts spread slowly like heavy clouds upon our lucky faces. The six of us gasped, fighting to inhale more of the heavy stench, deliberately seeking more of the poisonous gas that was going to end our pathetic lives.
Aditi let a huge fart into the chamber, with the sputtering noise and heavy gaseous emissions filling up the chamber rapidly. Her fart had some of the characteristic scent of the potato chips she was munching on, and I could almost feel myself drowning in the scent. Not that any of us had a choice in the matter, but this fart was worth living and dying for. Judging by the squirming noises around, I would have reckoned that at least two of the shit-eater candidates died from that single explosion. Soon, Priya chimed in as well, rendering her own deadly renditions of undigested exhaust into the chamber. We were now screaming in the chamber, but it was so sound-proof that we could only hear each other’s screams while the Mistresses watched their movie.
Minutes passed like hours, as we drowning in the farts and struggled to stay alive for the ultimate prize. We soon felt the Mistresses’ hands checking our pulse, probably to see how many candidates they had already killed. The very fact that I was alive to feel it gave me hope that I would eat Aditi’s shit again in my life. Soon enough, they released the chamber open and allowed us to see daylight again. The two men next to me were both dead, as were two on Priya’s side of the fartbox. I rolled over to the wall and leaned against it, while the other slave(who still had legs) crawled over next to me.
“Your old shit-eater is still alive.” Priya observed.
“He’s like a cockroach that will never die,” Aditi said, disgusted at the very sight of me.
“So,” Priya said, “which one of these do you want as your shit-eater?”
“That depends.” Aditi said, somewhat hesitant. “You tell me which one you want.”
“Okay, I want him.” Priya said, pointing to the slave who still had legs.
“Aww, me too.” Aditi said.
“It looks like we have to flip a coin to see who gets the good one.” Priya said. She fetched a coin from her pocket and prepared it for a toss. “Heads, you get your old shit-eater without legs. Tails, you get the good one. Fair enough?”
“Alright,” Aditi said. The coin flew up in the air and landed before us slaves as we watched in anticipation. It landed on the floor and rested with the heads facing up. “Oh no, I have to take my old shit-eater back.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Priya smiled. “I’m going to inaugurate my new shit-eater,” she said, walking to the other slave, strangling his neck and pulling him into her buttocks for a huge fart to his mouth. “Ahhh,” Priya relieved herself. “This one should be good for a couple uses.”
“And I’m stuck with you,” Aditi frowned as she towered over me. “I’ve got to hand it to you, though. You’re the luckiest shit-eater I’ve ever had.” She turned around and farted on my face, the powerful ripples of her gas spreading from my mouth upwards. “Lucky, lucky, lucky. And you know what’s the best news? I effectively killed six people today with my friend. Do you know what that means?”
“That I can eat your shit five more times?” I asked, overjoyed.
“Yes, exactly.” Aditi said. “That means I may keep you alive till Friday.”
“Wow.” I was breathless from the ecstasy of being her shit-eater.
“But it’s going to cost you.” Aditi said, stopping my celebrations as suddenly as she started them. “Each time I shit in your mouth, I’m going to cut off one of your fingers and flush it in my toilet. That’s how I’m going to keep count of how many chances you have left.”
“But Mistress…” I pleaded.
“And then I will chop off your arms.” Aditi said. “After that I’ll cut open your ribs and stomp your open heart with my boots until you die.” She headed for the door. “Time to go home. Follow me, loser!”