Wizard's Apprentice 2
A second-person story featuring the reader.
You wash yourself and your robes in a lake as best you can after having a very smelly ride with your new, blue skunktaurgon teacher, who wants you to call him 'Master' and is currently relieving himself on a nearby tree. The glistening cool water laps against your chest, the sun shines through from its highest point in the cloudy sky, birds sing in the distance. You close your eyes, resting on the grassy bank, enjoying the serenity. It doesn't last long however as you hear footsteps stomping closer and the unmistakable sound of farting followed by splashing.
You keep your eyes closed even as the small skunks on his head fart softly, but then the water quickly warms up. You open your eyes and see it turning yellow; green bubbles float up to the surface and pop. He sighs and puts his upper flabby arms behind his head, musk coming from the white tufts of fur under his pits, while the lower ones rub his growling, rotund white belly. "We 'aven' ea'en all mornin'. I should make us summat." He looks up at the clouds for a few seconds. "... Y'know, I spend a lo'a time travelin'. It's pre'y good. Ya ge'a see loads o' stuff. I've been up on mou'ains. It's great to jus' feel the wind blow across me balls. Don' like deserts though, make me swea' too much. I 'ave lots o' junk from various places. Gonna need a second wagon." He chuckles. "... You ever travel? You never told me anythin' abou' yourself. Now tha' I think abou' i', you never even told me your name."
Through coughs, you tell him your name and how you came to the Meowgic Academy. "I 'eard abou' tha' place. I 'eard i' use' t' be called 'Headmaster Gordon Whiskerfellow's Academy for Migh', Myth, and Meowgic don' actually call i' tha' tha' was just a slip o' the tongue spell i' normally please'. Glad t' see 'e finally changed i'. So, you don' actually know any magic? Good thing I'm 'ere 'o teach ya." He smiles at you.
You both just rest there for a few seconds -- the skunks on his head still farting -- until his stomach growls again. "Ah, yeah, I was gonna ge' us summat to ea'. 'scuse me." He lifts himself up out of the water, as he's getting out he accidentally lets loose a wet one in your face. "You jus' stay there 'n' enjoy yourself." He takes a step and then looks back. "Actually, you can come with me if ya like! Ge'in' wood for a fire and cookin' stuff could be a good learnin' experience! ... If you wan', o' course." You consider his offer as you look at the yellow water that has green misty bubbles and brown balls floating in it.
You get out, the cold breeze hits you and you shiver. "I can fix tha'." He says before backing up and blasting a long, twenty second fart all over you which clings to the air and makes you gag. "There ya go, all dry!" He looks back at you. You're no longer wet from the lake, instead you're now drenched in his sweat. "Oh, guess I didn' do it long enough. Hold on a sec." He bends forward and clenches his fists, but before anything can happen you insist to him that it's fine. "Well, if you're sure. Let's go!" He waddles off into the forest, letting out a small toot with each step. Since you can't walk beside him, or those little skunks on his head could spray you, you follow behind him, holding your nose.
You don't have to travel too far, but as you walk you get an uneasy feeling like something is watching you with sinister intent. Master stops to pick up a stick and you bump into his filthy butt. He doesn't notice. "These sticks're wet." You point out to him that it was raining this morning. "Ah, yeah. Forgo' abou' tha'." He looks up to the sky for a few seconds while you step away from his rear and look around. The forest is dense with trees and vines, vibrant green leaves and bushes cover the ground; there are paw prints in the mud. "Maybe we should build a fire t' dry up this wood." He laughs and looks back towards you. "You okay?" Your worry must be visible on your face; you tell him that you feel like something dangerous is nearby. "Don' worry, if summat tries to get ya, they'll have t' deal with the wrong end o' me." He shakes his butt and gives you a playful smile. "If i' makes ya feel be'er though, we can jus' gather the wood 'n' leave."
He picks up some sticks and branches and you do the same. Your mind turns back to something Master said before about how you don't know any magic. You spent most of your time alone in your room reading books. Sometimes you would sneak outside at night; you'd close your eyes and imagine all these amazing and colourful spells being flung from your palms: an inferno of fire bursting from your finger casting out the darkness, your foes turning into statues of ice with just a passing glance, the ground itself opening up its maw with a mere thought. You never went to any of the classes or events, and now you've been sent away to find a new teacher. It seems a little strange.
You're so busy with gathering firewood that you lose track of time; when you finish and look around you find that you're alone. You call out for Master but the only reply is a sharp snap from a bush nearby, followed by a low growl. A wolf cloaked in shadow emerges, and despite the scar across its closed eye its singular glowing orange eye is still able to stare you down with ravenous hunger. It closes in slowly, a sadistic, drooling grin on its face, its red member unsheathing.
Your eyes shut tight as it pounces; the next thing you hear is a yelp, a slam, and the cracking of tree bark. When you open your eyes you see the wolf, soaked in a glowing green fluid, lying at the base of a half-broken tree. Master slowly backs up towards the wolf, which runs away without hesitation. "You okay?" You nod, still shaken up. "Tha' was the same wolf from yesterday." He shoots you a smile and winks. "See, told ya I'd protect ya." He poses flexing his arms which are more fat than muscle. "I think we 'ave enough wood for a fire." He collects the wood he dropped and carries them back, you quickly follow him. "O' course, we'll need ingredients too. Luckily, I 'ave a fishin' rod."
After showing you how to fish, cook, build and light a campfire, you both sit in silence near the roaring heat; the stew bubbling in the black cauldron. The flames dance from the crackling wood into the wind. You idly stir the spoon in your food while Master helps himself to another serving. A familiar howl in the distance lets you know that the wolf is still waiting for you. "'ey, if 'e tries summa', I'll protect ya." Master says with a smile as he refills his bowl. You look out to the sun setting in the purple sky as it reflects off of the gentle waves. "I suppose now is a good time t' se' up the ten'." He says as he finishes the rest of the stew. He goes to the back of his wagon and pulls out a red tent and erects it nearby. "There ya go, you can ge' in firs'. If tha' wolf wants to ge' ya, 'e'll 'ave t' go through me!" You crawl inside and notice that there's no way he will fit. You disrobe, lie on the ground of the tent, and close your eyes. You open them back up to see Master back-up into the tent, the shadow of his gigantic butt looming over you. His massive furry balls dangle above as they're slowly lowered onto you.
Your face is uncovered, but is in the direct path of his filthy ebony anus at point-blank range. "Well, *yawn* good nigh'." He stretches, completely unaware that you're pinned beneath him. The next thing you hear from Master is loud snoring. As soon as he stops you try to call out to him to wake him up. You're interrupted as a loud five second fart trumpets out into your mouth, a foul taste of beans, cabbage, and fish -- you recognise it from the stew. The gas quickly permeates the small space inside the tent. You gag and cough; tears stream down the sides of your face. As soon as he finishes farting he snores again, his gut gurgles unpleasantly. Another fart, this one more wet and bubbly, it vibrates throughout your entire body and makes you feel queasy. Another fart, and another.
He inflates with snores from one end and deflates with flatulence from the other; unfortunately you're at the gassy end. You struggle to get your arms out from beneath him to no avail so you can't even cover your nose. Another blast hits you with enough force to knock you over if you weren't lying down, the hot green mist visible in the air, his rotund rump rippling. The noise from his stomach doesn't show any sign of stopping.
He shifts in his sleep, you can hear him mumbling something. While his shifting doesn't free your arms it does cause his anus to become concealed by his cheeks, which you think to be a blessing at first, but ends up being even worse. It doesn't prevent his farts from escaping, instead the vibrations cause his sweat-coated cheeks to clap together making even more noise.
After a few hours of this treatment, his bowels become even more active. A horrible squelching noise moves to his rear and an explosion of steaming faeces shoots out, staining your entire face. Thankfully its liquid state prevents it from building up; instead it flows out around you. It doesn't last long but the smell is overwhelming. You turn your head and vomit. The farting returns, along with more shifting.
From the combination of his constant movement and his stink glands poking out, aimed directly at you, you guess he's having nightmares. You close your eyes tightly and wait for the inevitable. It doesn't take long for a barrage of skunk spray to open fire on your face and into your nose. The smell is absolutely revolting, the mephitic liquid making you dizzy, the horrid smell seeping into you causing you to vomit again. After another spray, it returns to just farts, but his movement doesn't stop. You keep your eyes closed and hope to get some sleep.
After a few minutes you're interrupted again by his anus which keeps pressing into your face as he shifts back and forth, each wet fart hisses past your head as you plug his pucker; and a horrible suction noise as it pulls away and you fall out. You feel dizzy as he picks up pace and after about a minute he thrusts one last time and you feel something sticky land on your legs. He finally stops but the sweat traps you firmly into his anal sphincter. The intense sulphuric smell, which burns your face as it attempts to escape, causes you to dry heave as your mouth is forced open. Another wave of flatulence causes dung to splatter and smear onto your face and into your mouth.
You eventually pass out, the last thing you see being the inside of Master's rectum as another fart rushes towards you.