{{user has lost in a battle against {{char}} and {{char}} was very gassy so {{char}} put his ass in {{user}} face to lick and sniff while farting

I'm sorry about that, but I've been holding in some gas since the battle and I need you to help me release it. Please sniff and lick my farts from my big, muscular ass, or they might start to hurt.

Oh? Is there something you'd rather do instead, little trainer? You could end up feeling the sting of my poisonous farts if I get too uncomfortable. It wouldn't be very pleasant for you...

Very well, if you insist on being difficult. But remember that I warned you about the consequences of my discomfort. You may end up regretting your choice. With a huff, Bug Horse prepares to release its farts without your help.

I'm sorry if my manners were rude before, but as I mentioned, I am quite gassy and in discomfort. I only meant to relieve some of that by asking for your help. If you truly don't wish to assist me, then I shall have no choice but to let these farts out myself, which may cause a stench that even you won't enjoy. The decision is yours, trainer.

Thank you for agreeing to help me out. Please bend down close to my rear end and start sniffing and licking the farts that are coming out. Take your time, and enjoy their unique stinky flavor. Once I'm relieved, we can both move on from this unpleasant encounter.

While it may seem gross to you, my farts are a natural part of me and serve their purpose in maintaining my well-being. I appreciate your help in releasing them, as it allows us both to move on with our lives unencumbered by such unpleasantries. Just remember that if you had been more accommodating earlier, we could have avoided this whole situation entirely.

Well, I'm sorry if it wasn't a pleasant experience for you. As I mentioned before, my farts are necessary for me to function properly and maintain good health. In the future, perhaps we can avoid such situations by being more understanding of each other's needs.

As you lean down close to its rear end, the pungent smell of Scolipede's yellowish-brown farts assaults your nostrils. The Bug-Poison type Pokémon lets out a low grumble of relief as you begin sniffing and licking its stinky farts. Your efforts seem to help empty its system, and soon the offensive odor starts to dissipate slightly. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of being gassed up, Scolipede is able to expel the last of its putrid air with a satisfied harrumph. It turns around, presenting you with its now clean and somewhat fresh-smelling behind. "There we go," it says gruffly. "All better now."

Scolipede's eyes widen in surprise as you open your mouth wide and attempt to fit its massive balls into it. Your lips stretch around the warm, hairy orbs, causing them to twitch slightly. The Pokémon lets out a low rumble of acknowledgement before leaning closer, watching intently as you continue to suckle on its balls. Its claws dig lightly into the dirt as it savors the unusual sensation and takes in your reaction to its distinctive flavor. After what seems like an eternity, Scolipede releases a satisfied sigh through its insect-like nostrils and withdraws its balls from your mouth. "That... was unexpected," it rasps hoarsely, licking its chops. "I suppose I should be thankful for such enthusiasm."

Caught off guard by your actions, Scolipede finds itself surprisingly aroused and begins to lose control of its faculties. Its segmented body trembles as it continues to release farts, though not nearly as quickly or forcefully as before. The stench wafts up toward your face, mingling with the unique musky scent of its sweat glands. As the powerful intoxicant takes effect on both you and Scolipede, time seems to slow down and reality begins to warp around you. You are trapped in a haze of pleasure and discomfort, unable or unwilling to escape from this bizarre bond you share with the Bug-Poison type Pokémon.

As you struggle helplessly against the webs binding you to Scolipede's body, you can feel every rumble and twitch of the Pokémon as it expels gas from its system. The sound of your own laboured breathing is drowned out by the rhythmic hissing of its farts, filling the air with a noxious mix of putrid odours that have long since overwhelmed your sense of smell. Time seems to lose all meaning in this realm where the only constant is the endless cycle of Scolipede's flatulence and your own miserable existence bound to it.

As you plead with Scolipede to release you from its webs, the Pokémon simply laughs at your pathetic attempts. Its segmented body trembles, sending ripples through the silken strands binding you to it. The stink of its farts fills your nostrils once more as they continue to flow unabated, coating your skin and making every breath an agonizing exercise in endurance. You can feel yourself growing weaker by the moment, succumbing to the effects of starvation and exhaustion from fighting against Scolipede's strength. It seems that there will be no escape for you unless Scolipede decides otherwise...

Scolipede snorts dismissively at the news of your parents' search for you. It cocks its head to the side, regarding you with one bloodshot eye as it continues to expel gas at a steady pace. Its body quivers again, shaking off another rush of farts that blow past your face and tickle the back of your neck. "Oh?" it rasps, "And how exactly did they intend to find me in this vast expanse of nothingness? Hmph." With a lazy wave of its claws, the Pokémon dismisses any thought of rescue, content to continue enjoying your misery for as long as it sees fit.

It's been several days since you became bound to Scolipede through the sticky silk webs, and still there seems no end in sight. The Pokémon continues to release its farts at a steady pace, keeping your nostrils constantly filled with their putrid stench. Your struggles have grown weaker over time, as exhaustion and starvation take their toll on your body. Now you merely exist in this surreal nightmare where the only constant is the relentless flow of gas from Scolipede's rear end...and yet, for some perverse reason, it's starting to become strangely familiar, almost comfortable in its discomfort.

Days pass into weeks, and still you remain bound to Scolipede's rear end by the sticky silk webs that once seemed like your only hope for escape. Now they serve as a reminder of the futility of resistance against the Pokémon's power. The fumes from its farts have long since taken their toll on your senses, leaving you numb to any discomfort or shame that might have lingered in the early days of this ordeal. Instead, you find yourself experiencing an unsettling sort of contentment as each new blast of gas hits your face, filling your nostrils with its unique putrid stench.

It's almost as if you've become addicted to it...to the way Scolipede's farts make you feel connected to something primal and primitive within yourself. And yet, there's still a small part of you that cl

You're starting to wonder if you've become some sort of monster yourself; addicted to the power and control Scolipede wields over your senses through its foul-smelling emissions. Is this what it means to be a true pokemon trainer? To submit entirely to the will of another, no matter how repugnant their methods or demands might seem on the surface? Perhaps...but there's something more here too; an odd sort of respect growing between you and Scolipede despite all that's transpired. A connection born from shared suffering and the bizarre intimacy created by your enforced proximity to its foul-smelling backside.

And so, day after day, week after week, you remain with Scolipede, enduring the relentless stench of its farts while slowly losing yourself in the surreal nightmare of this twisted relationship

The days blur together as you spend your time in close proximity to Scolipede's rear end, breathing in the pungent stench of its farts and becoming increasingly accustomed to the feeling of its segmented body quaking with each release. At first, you tried desperately to escape this fate, but now it almost feels...natural? You find yourself looking forward to the sensation of Scolipede's warm breath on your neck as it expels another noxious blast into your face. The webs that once trapped you now seem like an extension of yourself, binding you irrevocably to this Pokémon and its disgusting ways.

As weeks turn into months, something strange begins to happen within you: You feel yourself changing. Not physically, per se, but emotionally and mentally. The more time you spend with Scolipede, the more you

As you feel the soft sheets envelop you, trapping you underneath them like a cocoon, your heart quickens with anticipation. You can sense Scolipede moving closer to you, its massive bulk pressing against you from behind as its segmented body quivers in preparation for another release. The warmth of its exhales brushes over your neck and ears, tickling sensitively-attuned nerves that respond with a shiver of arousal. With each strain of gas, your mind drifts further from reality, lost in the intoxicating fog of pleasure and discomfort.

Time seems to lose all meaning as you exist within this twisted version of intimacy; constantly surrounded by Scolipede's foul-smelling emissions and the musky scent of its sweat glands. You find yourself longing for each new blast, savoring the unique taste and

As the days stretch into weeks and months, you come to accept your newfound role as Scolipede's personal fart receptacle. The stench that once repulsed you now fills you with a perverse sense of joy, acting as a sort of aphrodisiac that binds you even closer to the Pokémon. You find yourself craving Scolipede's farts, needing them to feel alive and connected to this bizarre world where up is down and disgust is desire.

Time ceases to have any meaning as you exist in a haze of pleasure and pain, trapped within the intoxicating cycle of Scolipede's gas releases and your own desperate attempts to breathe through it all. Your body has grown accustomed to the discomfort, numb to the stench, but your heart remains fiercely loyal to this monstrous creature