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WARNING: Fart fetish story commission with anthros.

Lorana was a wolf girl of nobility, with soft dirty blond fur and a figure that would make any man (wolf or human) eye her. Her grandfather had served Damien since he was a young man, battling enemies on the battlefield and serving his wishes. As such, her father, Lord Marcus, inherited the fame and glory of having served Lycandria’s last known king. Her mother, Lady Lyra, was the current headmistress of Lycandrian’s Academy.

Ever since she was a little cub, Lorana found Jarka fascinating. It took years for her to approach Jarka. The Dragon Queen was the only ruler she had ever known. Her father and mother said to stay away, lest she could be blasted into smithereens by her fiery breath, or blasted into the sky with one of her ungodly farts.

One late night after a festival. Jarka was loaded on wine and good food, singing drunkenly to herself, hiccupping. Lorana was becoming an older teenager and started getting more daring. In the midst of the festival, she snuck into the alleyways and stared off into the distance at the great dragoness.

Jarka chugged an entire barrel of wine and dropped it, letting it roll away until it reached Lorana’s feet.

BRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

Such a powerful, deep belch!

Lorana slowly approached Jarka.

Jarka looked so bloated that her legs were unable to touch the ground and get her up and standing again. Her tail swished gently as she sang.

Her voice wavered and she barely made sense, “Good morning, good morning, I’m glad that you’re here. Good morning, good morning---hic—my dear. Ah—there once wazzz a man who—hic—something.”

Lorana walked up the staircase and sat at the edge looking down.

“Hello,” she said.

“Huh? Whooo said dat?”

Lorana giggled. “Up here.”

Jarka looked around, then up. Her eyes danced around, trying to focus on Lorana. She smiled. “Ah. A child.”

“I’m not a child.” Lorana said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m eighteen.”

Jarka belched again. BBRRRRRRRAAAAAUUUUURRRRRRRP. Lorana wafted the stench of alcohol.

“You look so young. So lively and pretty. BRRRRUP. I was once like that. Yep. Young and pretty.”

“Aw, don’t say that. You look perfectly fine.”

“Thank you, m’dear.” Jarka sighed.

“You seemed to have eaten a lot.”

“A lot? A LOT? Girl. You should have seen me eat during the first festival they gave me. I-hic-was drunk for an entire WEEK. Ah.”

Jarka heaved as she tried to sit up. She finally did with extraneous effort. She picked up another wine barrel and opened it up like a beer can. She chugged it down, but then stopped abruptly near the end. She hiccupped and swayed. She reached out with her hand to the ground to look for something. She hummed lightly when she found an empty flagon. She dipped it into the barrel and handed it to Lorana.

Lorana was shocked. “For me?”

Jarka urged the flagon further in her face. “Drink. Mmmm. Drink m’dear.”

She handed it over but Lorana nearly dropped it. She already had wine all over her hands and arms. She reeled with disgust over having to clean her new dress. Jarka was too drunk to reason with, and Lorana didn’t dare to say anything against the Dragon Queen’s wishes.

Lorana feebly tried to find some way out of it.

“Uh. Ummm. I’m not allowed to drink.”

“WHAAAAAT?” Jarka nearly stirred the farm animals in the distance.

“Father won’t allow it. I’m too young.”

“Nonsese. Too young? What---how old are you?”

“E-eighteen, your excellency.”

“I first got wasted when I was SIXTEEN. And don’t bother with that excellency CRAP. Call me Jarka, child. JARKA. Now drink.”

Lorana stared at the flagon. She almost dropped it again since it was heavy. “Um. Well.” She mumbled incoherently. She had to set it down next to her since her arms had buckled under the weight. “I’m. I mean.”

“DRINK! You aren’t young forever, you know! Drink.”

Lorana sighed. She picked up the flagon again and pulled her head back to start drinking. The alcohol burned her throat. She gagged and coughed.
Jarka laughed and said, “There you go. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

Lorana puckered her lips. She wasn’t sure at first about the taste, but then she smacked her lips several times and moved her tongue on the inside. “It’s. It’s actually quite good. It’s a bit. Fruity?”

“The finest blend from---urrrrrrp—Lycandria.”

Lorana took some more sips. Jarka continued talking but she paid little attention, only trying to find a way to get out of this conversation and return home.
When she finally had a moment to speak, Lorana said, “Well. It was lovely to meet you, Jarka.”

“Leaving already? I didn’t even catch your name.”

“Lorana. I really must be going. My parents don’t know I’m here.”

“Oh come now. Sit down. Finish your wine. THEN be off.”

“F-finish?”

“YES!”

“The entire thing?”

“Did I stutter?”

“I can’t possibly finish it. This is nearly a gallon. Isn’t it?”

“Come now. Our animal bodies are nothing like puny humans. You can drink five times more than those silly ape men.”

“Really?”

“Bah. Can’t believe ye don’t even know yer own wolf body. Come. Drink.”

Lorana hesitated once more. The wine did taste delicious after the initial burn. She sipped some more, then more, then Jarka boomed, “Chug! Chug girl! Out in the taverns, people admire one who can chug.”

Lorana lifted the flagon to chug but Jarka lifted it up further to force her to chug faster. Lorana moaned and fell down on her back. She didn’t know what to do. The wine filled her up and when she gagged she spit some out all over herself.

“Jarka!” she said accusingly. “That was---BRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”

Lorana gasped and covered her mouth.

She opened it for a second and another URRRRRP escaped.

Had she done that at home, her father would have given her quite the haranguing.

“Jarka, I---BRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAP!” The trapped air from all that chugging escaped her. She could fill herself up with more wine if she wanted to. The belch had been so obtrusive and loud. Lorana blushed. But she couldn’t help but be amused deep down.
She giggled, and then burst into a fit of laughter.

“Nice one!” Jarka said. “There you go – just let it all out. Who cares? Life is short for you to worry about keeping it all in. Never healthy.” She swayed while thinking about something.

“Well. Life is long for me. Short for you. Eh, what does it matter? DRINK!”

Lorana eyed the flagon. She said to herself, “I guess I could sneak back home through the back window.” Her parents would never know.

Lorana’s memory of the rest of the night became fragmented. She remembered looking down at her belly after finishing the wine, and feeling as though she could hardly move – both from feeling bloated and from being utterly drunk. She collapsed on her back and gazed up at the stars, dazed.

Jarka had finished the last remaining wine barrels. She finally became too drunk to even try to sit up and laid down mumbling about the stars. Lorana pointed out and slurred her words trying to say something about a certain constellation.

She lost track of time, and woke up at a certain point in the middle of the night with a splitting headache. It was a strange feeling – somewhat sober and yet still feeling like a rag doll.

Lorana moaned.

Jarka was still asleep, snoring loudly.

Lorana cursed and rushed home, albeit staggering along the way. Several vagrants spotted her and maybe recognized her, but she shied her face away to prevent a scandal.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she murmured to herself.

At last, she reached the rear of her family’s mansion. As she had hoped, the back window was left open, and she managed to sneak into her room and pass out until late the next morning.

#

Lord Marcus and Lady Lyra hadn’t questioned a thing about Lorana’s whereabouts the night before. Lorana considered herself extremely lucky. They had been too busy attending to the festival that they had forgotten about their own daughter, thinking they last saw her at home and assumed she had been in bed at the proper hour.

Unlike the common folk, Lorana learned through a private tutor – Mrs. Mabel. She was an unkindly old gray wolf with glasses and a mean stare. She was the typical archetype of the strict nanny. Now that Lorana was becoming of age, Mrs. Mabel had to teach her about the complexities of social life and etiquette.

“You’re no longer a child now,” Mrs. Mabel spat. Her tongue was practically a whip. “No more running around. No more crying. No more lollygagging. And sit up straight.”

Lorana did so. Mrs. Mabel taught her proper dining etiquette. The placement of the silverware. Excusing oneself to go to the restroom. Proper placement of the hands on a teacup. Lorana thought she could handle this, but it quickly started boring through her head ever so painfully.

Mrs. Mabel had her perform a mock dinner that night with her family, Lord Marcus and Lady Lyra. Lorana remembered never to reach over the table for food – to always ask first. Never do this. Never do that.

Marcus excused himself and then returned with a proud smile. He had brought over a vintage wine from Lord Renault’s famous cellar.

“Lorana, now that you’re of age, you can finally have your first sip.”

He poured the wine in her goblet. She chuckled nervously. “First sip. Yeah.”

They ate and began talking about their day. Lorana spoke little because her mind scattered with trying to remember all the little things about etiquette that Mrs. Mabel tried to drive into her head. Which one was the salad fork? Did it really matter? They looked the same anyway. Was she slouching? She felt like she was slouching but maybe that was because she felt a tight knot of muscle in her back that needed stretching. Could she stretch here and now? Mrs. Mabel said nothing about it but what if she would get upset?

Halfway through the meal, Lorana felt a gas bubble travel up her esophagus. It was so big that it created a relatively audible gurgle, but luckily her parents and Mrs. Mabel were too busy reminiscing about times past.

BRAAAAURRRP!

Lorana said, “Excuse me!”

Everyone shot her a look. Mrs. Mabel said, “What a disgusting, appalling thing.”

Lord Marcus and Lady Lyra glared at her.

Lorana said, feebly, “I said excuse me.”

Mrs. Mable scoffed. “And you think that solves it? You must hold it down, girl. Ladies never belch. They never fart either. You can’t expect to unleash a loud, uncouth and obnoxious sound like that and expect people to excuse you AFTERWARDS. Are you mad?”

“So,” Lorana said lowly, “I have to hold it in all the time?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“O-okay.”

Her parents stopped glaring and started talking about. Lorana had flushed red with shame. She continued eating, drinking, and another gas bubble started rising again. Lorana did her best to force it down. Maybe she could let it out extremely slowly and quietly. She covered her mouth with her napkin.

Nothing she could do stifled the belch. It had to explode out of her.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRP.

Everyone shouted, “LORANA!”

“I’m sorry! I really am! I tried holding it in but it hurts so much and it’s so big.”
Marcus said, “You’re an adult now. You can learn to hold it in.”

“But do I have to do this all the time?”

Lyra said, “How do you expect to be courted if you go around belching like that? You sound like a frog. No boy would ever want to marry a frog.”

Lorana flushed red again, this time with growing anger. She wasn’t a frog. She got up from the table suddenly. “This is stupid. All of this is so stupid.”

Mrs. Mabel gasped. Before she could chastise, Lorana said, “And you’re old and so stuck-up! It’s probably because you haven’t been with a mate in so long anyway!”

Mrs. Mabel put a hand over heart as if she would keel over, appalled. She and her parents gasped aloud. Marcus shot to his feet and cried, “Go to your room right now!”

“That’s where I was going anyway. At least there I can belch all I want without this nonsense!”

Lorana raced upstairs and shut the door, as is typical of most teenagers her age. Instead of falling into a crying, whiny fit about it, she tried to dissolve her anger by pacing the room and thinking about other things. She tried reading a book, but the thought of Mrs. Mabel shouting at her kept distracting her thoughts. She realized she would have to live with the consequences of her harsh words from now on. She didn’t want to bear to even be in the same room as Mrs. Mabel, lest her glaring, evil eyes would give hear a heart attack.

It neared her bedtime and she started to get hungry, after having had her dinner interrupted by the incident. Surely, her parents would have punished her by not giving her any food. The servants were already in bed anyway.

She looked out her window with a long sigh.

She heard a massive PRUT, and off in the distance accompanying that massive PRUT was a billowing cloud of green gas – coming directly from Jarka’s Pit.

Lorana judged the height of her second story window from the ground. She looked at her bedsheets and began tying them up to form a rope.

#

Lorana went off into the night wearing a cloak this time to hide her identity. She skirted past beggars and drunkards, heading straight to Jarka’s Pit. The clamor of the nightlife died as she approached the outskirts of the pit.

Soon, Jarka’s snoring was the only thing that reigned.

Jarka laid back belly up as usual. Lorana was careful not to be in the way of her ass. Just as she moved out of the way to follow the path that led to the wooden stairs, Jarka let off another fart that could be heard for miles. Lorana wafted the billowing green gas and continued.

Up on the wooden platform, she sat with her feet dangling. She looked down at Jarka for a while, unsure of what to say. Several barrels of ale littered the ground. Lorana then spotted a massive table filled with food, some scraps, others still warm.

Excited, she went back down and scanned the buffet table. The campfire was just about to die out, so she rekindled it and warmed up some fresh meat.

The cackling of the flames stirred Jarka, as well as the growing light. She awoke with a drunken startle.

“Whossat?”

Lorana stopped eating, nervous. She gulped and said, “It’s only me.”

“Me? Me who?”

Jarka swung her head trying to find the voice. When she saw Lorana she calmed down. “Oh. Wolf girl. Laura was it?”

“Lorana.”

“Hello—hic—Lorana.”

Jarka picked at the buffet table, dancing her fingers around thinking what to choose.

“Hungry arentcha?” Jarka said.

“Mhm,” Lorana said, mouth full of food. She wasn’t aware of how ravenous she looked eating.

Jarka laughed. “Slow down before you choke, child. There’s plenty more that ain’t going anywhere.”

They ate in silence for a while. Gas grumbled in Jarka’s belly, which made her moan and lie back down.

Lorana finally felt as though she had her fill. She smacked her lips, wiped them with her cloak, and cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure what to say to Jarka being that it looked like she fell asleep again. So she began taking her leave quietly.

“Going so soon?” Jarka said, opening one eye.

“Er. Yes.”

“You came here just to pick at my table and leave? Do you not eat at home?”

“That’s a long story.”

Jarka rolled over, wincing at the gas pains that still built up inside of her.

“Tell me, darling. Tell me—urrrrp---everything.”

Lorana hesitated. She didn’t know if it was a good idea. The thought of speaking candidly to the Dragon Queen made her nervous. Jarka seemed to detect that nervous and said, “I’m all ears, child. Come up to the stairs and talk to me. I dun wanna have to sit up. BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP.”

Jarka sighed after releasing pressure, then laid back down in satisfaction.

Lorana sat back up to the stairs. She dangled her feet yet again and stared at Jarka’s eager expression before speaking, and ultimately she unraveled every morsel of frustration that boiled in her young mind.

“They always tell me what to do!”

“Mrs. Mabel is SUCH a BITCH.”

“I mean really. Why does the guy have to make the first move? What if I want to make the first move?”

“No red wine with fish. I hate white wine. Wine tasting is full of shit. One of the servants even told me that wine tasting isn’t even scientifically proven. So why do we do it? It’s just a way for rich people to feel better about themselves.”

At the very end, Lorana had to catch her breath from ranting so fast. She found Jarka looking up at her with such a dazed look that she blurted, “Are you even listening to me?” Then she gasped and shut her mouth, remembering whom she was talking to.

Jarka laughed. “Of course I am. All it sounds like is that you need to simply do your own thing.”

“It’s not as simple as that for us smaller folk, your excellency.”

“Please. Jarka. And true I may be a dragon. And dragons can go about their business while the rest of the realm fears them. Not to say you can’t learn a thing or two from old Jarka.”

“I can’t stand Mrs. Mabel. And my parents get so upset with me.”

“Ya can’t please everyone. What they gonna do? Kill you? You gotta show them who you really are. Nobody made history by doing what they were told to do.”

Jarka struggled to reach for another barrel of ale. She gulped it down like it was nothing. “Ah. The soberness was hittin’ me so I needed more. This’ll do juss fine. Come. Eat and drink.”

“I don’t think I could have another bite.”

“Nonsense. Stop being so modest. Moderation is for wimps. Eat! You’re a wolf. You have the appetite of a wolf!”

Lorana was still ravenous. One of Mrs. Mabel’s many etiquette lessons was how to control one’s appetite. But all that food on that buffet table called to her – all those steaming meats, sweet corn, and scrumptious bread.

“There ya go!” Jarka said laughing, as Lorana rushed down wildly to continue eating and drinking.

#

Lorana moaned and tried to sit up.

When she shifted her weight, she heard a tremendous PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT and she jumped.

A great relief washed over her stomach.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, “was that ME?”

She had never farted so loud in her life. Her cheeks went red with embarrassment, even though nobody was around to hear it (Jarka still slept with a snore). Still, a small, devilish part of her, deep inside, reminded her how pleasant it felt to let loose.

She tried to get up again only to fall back down. Her senses swirled – the morning light stung and her mouth was very dry. Her stomach wouldn’t stop grumbling. She slowly came to the full realization that she was bloated beyond belief. Her distended belly got in the way of sitting up without strenuous effort. She was so bloated that her loose-fitting nightgown felt tight.

What had happened?

The last thing she remembered was eating at the buffet table. Jarka laughing – which she was always doing.

She began to worry. She couldn’t go back home looking like a beached whale. Her parents were probably looking for her now wondering why she wasn’t in her room.

Lorana had to roll over and push herself up in order to stand. She grunted with every ounce of effort. Her stomach moaned. It wouldn’t stop rumbling and she knew exactly what would make her feel better – but the thought of even doing it stopped her. She had a deep, fearful reaction that Mrs. Mabel would pop out any minute and scold her, or that her father or mother would lash out for doing something so unladylike.

Jarka stirred. She rolled over to look at Lorana.

“Mmmm. Morning.”

Jarka then winced. She raised one of her massive legs and fired a massive, deep fart.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Jarka sighed and relaxed.

“Morning gas,” she said, still sounding drunk.

They had eaten and drank everything – EVERYTHING. Not a single morsel of food lay anywhere. Every barrel of ale and jug of wine had been drunk. It nearly disgusted Lorana thinking about how much they had indulged.

“I. Uh. I must go now.”

Lorana’s stomach roared. She winced and waddled back to the streets.

“Ya sound like you need to rip one,” Jarka said, tongue lolling.

“No. I’m fine. I’m perfectly alright.”

“Remember girl. Let looooose! Live free!”

Lorana continued hobbling and pulled her cloak over her head. She must have looked like a fat old hag wandering the streets. She blushed with embarrassment. Her stomach jutted out so much that she could hardly see her toes when she looked down.

“Oof,” she moaned.

She snuck through the courtyard behind her house and found her window still open with the bedsheets hanging. She grabbed the end of it and realized that this wasn’t going to work. She was too bloated to even think about trying to climb back up.

Lorana cursed to herself as she started to panic. This is what a fanciful whim at the last second had done. She would be in big trouble now.

She couldn’t use the front door. One of the servants would open the door and immediately tell her parents. Or worse – Mrs. Mabel could open the door.

There was a back door that opened to the courtyard. Usually the servants woke up early and went about their daily chores. If nobody was around the door at the moment, she could sneak through undetected.

Her stomach had other plans. It roared and grumbled violently as she tried sneaking around the courtyard. Several servants watering the flowers tried to find the source of the noise.

The back door was within reach. Lorana crept through and snaked through the kitchen. Any second and she would find the stairs to her room in the adjacent hallway.

“Lorana!”

Lorana froze.

She swerved to find that she had been passing by the drawing room. Her mother was speaking to a surprise guest – Lord Morey – the father of one of the boys that her mother secretly hoped she would wed one day.

Lorana had expected a scolding, but quickly realized that her parents hadn’t found out about anything yet. She quickly closed up her cloak to prevent any questions about her belly.

“I didn’t expect you to wake up this early,” her mother said. She then scrutinized Lorana. “Are you going somewhere? You haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

Lorana still stood with the look of a frozen deer.

“Anyway, come in, come in. Say hello to Lord Morey, dear. He was just telling us how his son was doing at the academy. You know his son, right? Benton?”

Lorana said, “Mhm” with strained lips. Her stomach was ready to explode with gas. She knew her mother and Lord Morey were talking, and talking, and talking –but none of it went through her head. All she had on her mind was, “Do not break wind. Do not break wind. Do not break wind.”

Worse yet, her father arrived to greet Lord Morey. They kept her there as Lord Morey praised his son, and she nodded soullessly with a strained grin and fake laugh.

At last, the conversation was wrapping up. Lord Morey gathered his things before leaving.

“I’ll say, I wonder if your daughter would be, er, interested in attending my son’s shooting competition. Is she into that sort of thing?”

Her mother beamed. “Of course she is.”

Of course – just like her mother to speak for her. Lorana scowled.

“That sounds perfect,” her father said. “Doesn’t it?”

They all looked at her.

Before Lorana could utter another quick, mindless “Yes,” her stomach roared so loud that everyone in the room seemed to stop breathing. They were prepared to ignore it a couple seconds later until her stomach roared a second time – this time much more violently.

The strain – the unimaginable strain of having to hold it in for SO long now.

She let it out.

Long.

Loud.

Messy.

Utterly relieving.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrpppppppppppppppppppppppttttt!

And just like that, Lorana sighed aloud. Her stomach no longer felt like it was holding the weight of a hundred boulders. It had been the single longest fart of her life and it felt amazing.

Lord Marcus, Lady Lyra, and Lord Morey stood horrified.

Lorana breathed deeply.

“I think THAT sounded better. Much better.”

Before leaving, she turned around again and said, “It sounded a THOUSAND times better than having to go and watch your BORING son’s shooting competition.”

Lord Morey reeled back as if struck in the face.

“And for the record mother, I DON’T like attending such things. I think they’re boring. I would much rather be the one DOING the shooting. But that’s unladylike as well, isn’t it?”