Another Birthday Wish

It was nearly midnight and for once Brandon was actually looking forward to his birthday, normally it would be a quiet meal with the family but this year it was going to be packed. Not only was he going to be eating and drinking a ton but he was also going to be meeting up with some of his favourite people. First he was having breakfast with Ash, his chilled surfer friend from back home who always wore the cutest undies. Even though Ash was straight Brandon couldn’t help but check out the usually tight, pink underwear that clung to his friends round, toned ass. Next he was meeting up with his best friend Mike for a coffee, the pair hadn’t seen each other in a while so it was bound to be fun. Mike was always the joker, pulling pranks and making everyone laugh, Brandon especially enjoyed it when Mike would rip his massive farts not only was it hilarious it always astounded Brandon how such a foul stink could come from such a skinny guy! After that was a quick PT session with Ryan, Brandon had been going to the gym for a year now and it only felt right training with Ryan. The guy was friendly, encouraging, a good mate and damn was he hot. Brandon would often have to stop himself from staring at his personal trainers rippling muscles as he demonstrated what he needed to do. Brandon was also convinced that Ryan had the plumpest arse he had ever seen, that perfect bubble butt not only motivated Brandon to work out but also to enjoy heading to the gym. Then lastly it was a couple of drinks with his work buddy Craig, usually Brandon would only socialise with him at work but Craig had convinced him to meet at the pub in the evening. While Craig was cool to work with, Brandon was unsure how it would be in a more social environment. After all Craig was renowned for his drinking abilities around town but really that's all he knew about him. Brandon was actually quite looking forward to getting to know Craig better, maybe it could be the beginning of a new life long friendship. Brandon chuckled as he looked at his phone checking the opening times for the cafe he was going to have breakfast at tomorrow. It was certainly going to be a long but exciting birthday… well it would have been.
 

A notification buzzed onto Brandon’s screen as the tracing app on his phone opened up. Brandon’s stomach dropped as he saw the word that instantly spoiled all of the birthday fun he was supposed to have - Quarantine. Brandon was stunned as he read the notification over and over, why did this have to happen to him!? Not selfish enough to ignore the advice, Brandon was heartbroken as he sent the messages to his friends cancelling their plans, no sneaky glances at Ash’s undies, no fun smelly times with Mike, no eye candy at the gym with Ryan and no ‘get to know you’ drinks with Craig. Instead his perfect birthday had been relegated back to its boring bog standard day. Brandon no longer felt excited as a tired wave of depression washed over him and he slumped into his bed. It was going to be such a good day… fading into unconsciousness Brandon made his wish unaware that the clock had finally ticked past midnight making it his birthday. Mumbling under his breath Brandon almost whispered

“I wish I could spend my birthday with the boys.”

As Brandon drifted off to sleep the trickster was all too happy to consume the birthday boy in a plume of green smoke and grant his wish.

Brandon was startled as a violent beeping echoed around him, he was sure he had turned his alarm off since he no longer had anywhere to be today yet, the alarm kept ringing. Brandon’s instant reaction was to reach his hand out and slam it on his phone hoping to shut it off but very quickly Brandon realised he couldn’t move or feel his hand or his arm. Opening his eyes, he assumed he had just slept weird causing his limb to go to sleep but as Brandon tried again to turn off the constant beeping he found that actually it wasn't just his arm he couldn’t move it was his whole body. Now concerned Brandon’s eyes opened wide and immediately he was met with a ceiling that did not look familiar and his peripheral vision was surrounded with pastel pink. Brandon’s instant reaction was a simple ‘What the fuck?’ but just like his motionless body, his vocal chords refused to cooperate meaning not a sound was uttered. In fact as Brandon’s panic began to increase he realised that it wasn't just his voice that was missing it was his mouth as well. It was hard for Brandon not to completely lose his composure as he tried to logically work out why his body refused to move, why his mouth appeared to be missing and why his voice had been silenced. Not to mention he was clearly not in his bedroom any more, this ceiling wasn’t his, there was no such colour as pastel pink anywhere in his bedroom and that alarm that had woken him up was not the one he was used to. Brandon was on the verge of freaking out when suddenly his whole body seemed to move and above him he heard the tired grumblings of a young man.

If Brandon had a choice he would have froze in place, terrified to move at the unreasonably loud grumblings from the foreign man in the foreign bedroom but unfortunately his body was not under his control. The man above him shifted his weight to reach for his alarm but Brandon found his body and his face twisting and moving along with him. Brandon’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend what was happening to him, the sound of the man was loud yet he could not see him but he felt his movements. Brandon whimpered as he felt his entire being turn again as he began to move in the most unnatural way. He felt something soft but firm underneath and between him, the cushioned but scratchy entity seemed to shift and part making him queasy as it somehow managed to stretch his face outwards. Then without warning Brandon’s whole worldview shifted to a blur of pastel pink as the thing that seemed to be inside and all around him moved. Brandon felt sick as his body and face were manipulated into an uncomfortable, scrunched up position that he didn’t think was humanly possible, where he was greeted with a view that wasn’t just the ceiling. However, if Brandon had the choice he would have chosen to revert back to the view of the bland white ceiling because then he could deny what might be happening to him, he could ignore his current view and perhaps pretend that what he was seeing was just his imagination. Yet, sadly Brandon could not go back because simply he didn’t have that control, in fact it became very clear as the sound of the alarm was turned off who was now in control. Brandon’s first instinct was to freeze once again as he looked onwards from his new position, the position where he could now see two giant, tanned, muscular legs below him, the position where his face and body were being stretched painfully, the position where he could now see the full length mirror hanging on the bedroom wall, the position where he saw the reflection of his dear friend Ash laying on his bed with his phone, the position where Ash was texting, smiling and laying in his cute, pink pastel underwear.

Ash rubbed his eyes as he looked at his phone, switching off the alarm and then searching his messages for his friend Brandon. It was such a shame his mate had to cancel, giving his arse a scratch Ash started constructing his birthday message. While he was sad that he wouldn't see his friend he was also kind of glad that now he could have another couple of hours in bed. Under his breath Ash re-read his text message as a sudden pain shot from his gut it seemed that the chinese food he had last night had not sat right with his stomach. Throwing his phone to the side Ash got himself comfortable again ready to enjoy his lie in, however before he went back to sleep he just had one thing to take care of. Raising his right leg and with the slightest of pushes Ash’s arsehole opened and unleashed a rip roaring, droning fart that echoed throughout the tiny bedroom. All Ash could do was chuckle as he grabbed his blanket and covered himself up, shielding him from the vile, greasy, take out food fart that he had unleashed and trapping the stink under the dense fabric. Ash smiled and yawned as he felt himself falling back into a deep slumber while Brandon was very much doing the opposite. As the fabric bodied man trapped around the surfer’s arse screamed for help as he choked on the foul ass blast Ash had gifted him.

For Brandon the last sixty seconds had been a rollercoaster of emotions, it had started off with confusion as he saw his friend lying on his bed which quickly turned to fear as he realised that his friend now looked humongous and oversized. This fear transformed into denial as Brandon matched up the reflection and the pink pastel underwear with his own point of view and the colour invading his vision. Yet, as Ash moved and Brandon found himself matching the movements his denial soon changed to fright and dread as the birthday boy struggled to comprehend that he was now merely a piece of sentient pink fabric wrapped around his friends ass, cock and balls and totally at his mercy. Suddenly there was hope, as Brandon heard his friend whisper as he typed out his text on his phone, it was quiet but it was definitely a ‘happy birthday’. Perhaps he could get his attention? Maybe he knew he was there? Maybe it was some kind of cosmic test of their friendship? Either way Brandon tried his hardest to get Ash’s attention, he shouted, he wriggled and did anything his little underwear body would let him do to try and signal his friend that he was in fact wrapped around his soft, tanned ass cheeks. Yet, it was impossible, underwear can’t move, they can’t speak and they certainly can’t communicate but that didn’t stop Brandon from trying. Trying so much in fact that he did not hear the menacing grumblings coming from just above him. Which is why Brandon found his hope dwindling away as Ash tossed his phone to the side and found it replaced with pure terror as Ash raised his leg. Brandon yelped as he felt his face stretch painfully outwards as the ass cheeks he encompassed parted and within mere moments Brandon was assaulted with a forceful, ear deafening blast of pure arse stench. All Brandon could do was scream as he was drowned in the putrid stench of old chinese food mixed with the depths of his friends' arsehole. Brandon cried as the disgusting stench invaded every fibre of his new body, the pathetic piece of fabric unable to do anything else but capture the escaped fart particles and keep the stench locked in. To add to Brandon’s pain was the addition of betrayal as Ash quite happily sealed away his friend in dutch oven to stew in the remnants of the nasty, greasy, wet fart. Brandon was left defeated as his friend drifted back off to sleep while he was left choking on rotten ass fumes. All Brandon could do was hope that whatever this torture was, hopefully it would be over soon.

Sadly, Brandon’s version of soon would have been a few minutes, not the few hours he spent in the dutch oven constantly smelling his friend's cute, tanned booty. Brandon found himself wailing in despair as the time ticked passed,his time spent as underwear made continuously tortuous by his friend. Ash would innocently unleash another crap scented fart while he slept, constantly inflicting the terrible, nauseating smell on Brandon. What’s more now trapped under the sheets Brandon found the smell lingering for longer and longer as gradually all the air was replaced with fart and his thin fabric body absorbed all of the stink. Not to mention that as Ash shuffled and moved Brandon found his face slowly sinking into his friends' arse crack, the smell intensifying and the ass sweat around him increasing. By the time Ash finally woke up and decided he needed to get up, Brandon was sobbing, his nose permanently scarred from farts and his little body saturated with stink and sweat. Brandon felt a small sense of relief as his friend freed him from the dutch oven fart chamber and walked to his small ensuite bathroom. There both men were seen in all their glory, the tanned, toned surfer Ash and the sodden, shit smelling undies that was Brandon. The trickster smiled at the pair and admired how good they both looked and it appeared that Ash felt a similar way as he took a picture on his phone, probably to send to one of the girls he was talking to.
 

Brandon felt humiliated as his friend posed and felt sexy enough to take pictures while he smelt like a run down toilet at a dodgy pub. At least he would finally be taken off as he watched his friend start to fiddle with the shower next to him and no longer would he be face first in Ash’s sweaty arse. As his friend removed him, Brandon felt himself drift away and as soon as his face was free from the smelly butt cheeks he fell into unconsciousness.

Brandon didn’t know how long he had been asleep however, what he did know was that this time he wasn’t in a quiet bedroom anymore. Brandon was startled by the raucous laughing and chatting that surrounded him, he would have moved but once again Brandon found himself unable to move and staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Although this felt different from last time, while he was still filled with dread from his inability to move or speak he didn't feel like he was surrounding anything and this time he could feel his hands and feet touching the floor. Brandon knew he wasn't human as there was no way he could ever move his body so that his face was directly upwards while all his limbs were crammed behind his head but at least he wasn’t a few inches away from a farting arsehole! Mentally, Brandon took a deep breath in. He needed to work out what was happening to him and why? However, Brandon found it increasingly difficult to think being surrounded by so much noise and so many people, clearly no one saw him as the man he was so how was he ever going to get help? How was he ever going to turn back to normal? How was he ever going to see his family or friends again? It was then as Brandon felt himself spiralling out of control that something came into his point of view and Brandon’s heart leapt with joy. Like an angel surrounded by light Brandon smiled as the face of his friend Mike appeared in front of him, looking down straight at him and smiling.

Brandon could have almost cried with happiness, after the dreadful morning he spent as an arse sweat sponge, seeing his best friend looking and acknowledging him was all Brandon needed to give him hope. It was at that moment as Brandon was smiling at his friend with tears in his eyes that Mike pulled Brandon’s body moving him backwards. Brandon cheered, finally someone was aware of his peril, but quickly Brandon’s smile and happiness started to fade as Mike’s face disappeared from view and was soon replaced with his ass. ‘No please, not you too Mike!’ Brandon cried internally as he watched in horror as his best friend merciless brought down his black jean clad arse directly onto Brandon’s face, putting his entire weight onto it and causing Brandon's entire body to ache painfully.
 

Mike sighed as he slammed his ass down onto the cushioned stool, he had foolishly not checked his phone for most of the morning and it was only a few moments ago that he saw his friend Brandon had cancelled. Thankfully, Mike was a popular guy so with barely any effort he had managed to text another friend and by chance just happened to be in the area. Shuffling in his seat Mike ordered a coffee and a large slice of cake before looking around the cafe, then when it became clear no one was paying attention to him he lent to one side and allowed a quiet but long squeaking fart to echo into the fabric below him. Mike couldn't help but smile as the smell drifted upwards, it was rancid and damn was he proud. It had always been a talent of his to make people laugh with his farts because no one expected it, especially from someone as innocently looking as him. As the barista passed him his coffee Mike’s smile only grew as he noticed the distinct expression of disgust wash over their face before they hurried away. Taking a sip of his coffee Mike was tapped on the shoulder by his friend and for a brief moment Mike was sorry that Brandon was missing out on his birthday. However, as Mike greeted his friend and once again felt the urge to fart again Brandon slipped from his mind as he was happy that the trip out wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time.
 

Even if Brandon could have screamed his cries for help would have been muffled by his best friend's plump, soft arse. All Brandon could see was black and all he could hear was muffled, as all light and sound had been extinguished by Mike and his ass cheeks. Brandon had been confined to the darkness, left with only the knowledge that his best friend had no idea he was now sitting on his face. It was at that moment a beam of light shone in from the right side, illuminating Brandon’s view of his best friend’s ass and once again it appeared that Mike was going to offer him solace. Sadly, Brandon had not learned from his previous experience as once again all of Brandon’s hope was extinguished and replaced with pure dread and terror as a low, long squeaking fart spluttered from Mike’s arse and instantly assaulted poor Brandon’s senses. It was as if Brandon had been hit by a truck filled with septic tanks as the helpless, sentient stool’s mind tried to comprehend the horrendousness of the odour that had been forced upon. The sheer concentrated scent of sulphur and methane would have made a human pass out but unfortunately for Brandon he was no one longer human and wouldn't be granted the safety of unconsciousness. Instead all Brandon could do was smell the foul stench and screech like a banshee as it ravaged his senses. Brandon was in a whole other level of hell as it felt like he was bathing in rotten eggs and allowing the malodorous scent to become a part of him. Brandon’s torture was only made worse as he heard Mike start talking and laughing, somehow knowing his friend was having fun and enjoying himself while unknowingly afflciting such disgusting scents onto him made the situation ten times worse. It was supposed to be his birthday, he was supposed to be enjoying himself with his friend not huffing his farts straight from the source. Confined to a prison enforced by his own best friend ass Brandon’s only thought was ‘Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?’ and while the trickster heard the questions he let them go unanswered… for now. Unlike before it didn't take long for Brandon to start sobbing again as Mike continued to enjoy his time with friends, happily unleashing his putrid gas onto the sentient stool Brandon had become. Normally when Brandon was around his friend he would be in hysterics which was still true but for a very different reason. By the time Mike had finished his catch up Brandon was on the verge of a breakdown, the darkness, the pressure, the pain and the smell of his best friend’s ass had nearly broken the birthday boy but thankfully after two hours of nothing but arse cheeks Brandon saw the light of day again and was given the gift of fresh air.

As Brandon tried his hardest to rid himself of sulphuric fart riddled air, he watched forlornly as his best friend disappeared from view. How would he ever look at him the same way again? How would he react to his funny farts now after he had dealt with them intimately? How could Mike have done this to him? If it wasn’t for the wave of tiredness pulling him to sleep Brandon would have likely gone into a frenzy of worry about his friendship with Mike. Yet, as he drifted into unconsciousness he realised he had bigger things to worry about.

When Brandon awoke this time he had no time to figure out what was going on as he quickly found out he was moving and already he was filled with dread. Brandon instantly recognised the feeling of being worn from his time as Ash’s underwear, but somehow this felt worse. Unlike before where he felt slightly loose and malleable, this time Brandon already felt stretched to his limit like he was being filled by something that was far too big for him. Brandon moaned as he felt his face being pushed outwards until it started to twist and sink inwards as the person he was now on began to walk. Sadly, Brandon instantly recognised the movement of two meaty arse cheeks behind him and he felt himself starting to get upset as his face was slowly being eaten by them, pulling him closer to the vile puckered hole they surrounded. However, unlike before Brandon did not feel the scratches of arse hairs and the warmth of skin instead he felt fabric which meant by some small blessing he was not underwear this time. This however, still left a multitude of questions unanswered, who was wearing him? Where was he now? And most importantly why was this all happening to him?! Luckily for Brandon most of those questions were about to be answered because as the giant wearing him walked, Brandon started to hear music. Listening carefully Brandon heard the sound of a thumping bassline, he heard the clinking and grunting of weights and equipment being used and now just before walking through a set of double doors Brandon smelt the tell tale scent of sweat and now he knew where he was and exactly who was wearing him.

Ryan inhaled deeply as he entered the gym floor, with his client, Brandon cancelling it meant he now had two hours of free time and Ryan planned to make the most of it by getting his pump on. Walking through the gym Ryan could already see he had attracted the attention of several women and a couple of guys and he loved it. People would always compliment his massive arms, strong chest and giant bubble butt, which not only boosted his ego but motivated him to work out even more. Ryan was incredibly proud of his physique so showing it off was always a priority and that's why he wore the loosest tank top and the tightest shorts, that way his pecs, abs, and arms were constantly displayed and his ass was hard to ignore. Smiling and reaching the machine he wanted, Ryan paused to allow others to admire the view. Ryan’s smile then grew further as he grunted and allowed a booming protein fart to erupt from his huge muscle arse, people sure did love the way his arse looked but they sure wouldn't like how it smelt! Chuckling to himself Ryan started his workout, he was thinking he would focus on his glutes today.

Brandon whimpered as he walked into the gym wrapped around the giant booty of his personal trainer. Brandon didn’t even try to call out for help, he knew that just like before he was just an object now, a plain pair of workout shorts slowly being wedged in between a pair of juicy, jiggling ass cheeks. By now Brandon had noticed the pattern, he had spent the morning with Ash like he was supposed to, he had been to lunch with Mike and now he was at his PT session with Ryan but things had been all fucked up! Why was he living out his birthday like this?! Was this some kind of punishment?! Was the universe torturing him?! It was at that moment that Brandon realised Ryan had stopped and he heard a small grunt escape from his personal trainers lips. As if to illustrate a point the universe gifted Brandon another burst of sickening shit filled gas as Ryan unleashed a meaty, dense protein fart into the face of the pathetic piece of cloth that was Brandon. After his experience with Mike, Brandon did not have the capacity to handle such an intense, vile, rotten aroma and so as the muscle bros fart invaded his mind, Brandon broke down. Wailing and crying Brandon could no longer cope with the concentrated scent of his personal trainers arsehole leading the birthday boy into a crazed frenzy of panic and despair and this was before Ryan had even started his workout.

As the large, muscular gym rat started training and working out, his poor workout shorts were stretched and crushed, twisted and wedgied and left to endure the continuous flow of protein gas that was squeezed out of Ryan’s stanky booty as well as the sweat that was excluded from the strenuous workout. By the time Ryan was finished Brandon was completely drenched, he was sodden with the putrid ass sweat and he felt heavy and exhausted. Brandon was tired, not just from being stretched and pulled by the ginormous ass he surrounded, not just from the many point blank, dirty face farts he had received, not just from the amount of salty, grimy ass sweat that had been absorbed into his body but from his constant cries for help and mercy. 

For two straight hours Brandon pleaded for someone to end his rotten existence but who would come to help a pair of stinky, damp workout shorts. Instead Brandon had been forced to live through every second of the intense workout and sniff every single protein fart the bro jad let loose. The gym and the workout partner Brandon had come to love had now been tainted forever. How could he possibly set foot in this gym and train with Ryan ever again, when he would know the pain and torture the poor pair of gym shorts his personal trainer was going through? How would Brandon ever look at Ryan again with lust knowing that his arse had tortured him and scarred him forever? As Ryan walked to the changing room Brandon was almost relieved when he felt himself start to drift away again, anything had to be better than what he had just gone through with Ryan. Little did he know that as he fell into unconsciousness the trickster saw this as a challenge.

As soon as Brandon woke up he was instantly greeted with a view he was shocked to see, in front of him if not obscured slightly was a mirror and reflected in that mirror was Craig, the last person he was supposed to meet with today. The problem with the reflection and with Craig was that he was standing there completely and entirely nude.
 

It was clear to Brandon that his work friend had just gotten out of the shower and was slowly getting dry. Brandon was pleasantly surprised at his work colleagues body, it seemed he had more muscle on him and his arse was actually pretty peachy. Brandon was also optimistic that anything he experienced now had to be better than his time as Ryan’s personal protein fart sniffer. However, the more Brandon stared at Craig the more concerned he became, concerned that he could feel his mouth again, concerned that he was once again matching the movements of his owner and even more concerned at the fact that if Craig was naked what did that make him?

Craig huffed as pulled up his towel, he was actually looking forward to his drinks with Brandon. He'd had a crush on him for a few months now and tonight was his chance to make a move but now it was all spoilt. Grabbing his beer from the sink Craig almost glugged the whole thing, instead it seemed it would be another night out on the town, drinking away his troubles. Turning around Craig caught his reflection in the mirror, his new workouts had really been paying off and the squats were definitely working. 

Smiling Craig gave his peachy arse a spank and felt his dick get a little hard at the sight of it wobbling. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be a bust, with an arse like his he was bound to attract some guys. Getting dressed and downing a couple more beers, Craig was ready for his night out on the town but just before he left his stomach bubbled. Beer and its bubbles always went straight through him, so with a short, spicy fart Craig headed out of the door for another long night of heavy drinking and partying.

Brandon was in a daze until Craig landed that hard slap across his face and his new body jiggled as a result. Brandon kept on trying to deny it, telling himself that it couldn’t be possible, that the universe truly didn't want to punish him this much but as he felt the sting of the spank still settling on his face he could no longer avoid the truth. After the awful day he had had as underwear, a seat and gym shorts he was now his work colleagues arse and arsehole. Comprehending that you were now nothing but an inanimate object had been difficult but after three experiences Brandon had slightly understood it but now as he watched his ass cheek face sway and jiggle as Craig sipped his beer and collected his clothes, Brandon truly could not fathom what he had done to be turned in a sentient body part of his workmate. As Craig slipped on his underwear and jeans, each layer trapping Brandon in darkness the birthday boy just wanted to cry. He wasn’t a bad person, was he? He surely did not deserve this fate? Was this what the universe had planned for him, the life of chavy, chubby bear’s arse? Yet, while Brandon was busy asking his existential questions and delving deeper into the morality of his own life choices, he didn’t realise what was truly coming his way. As Craig’s guts bubbled, Brandon could do nothing to stop the inevitable, he could do nothing but do what a butt and an arsehole do. So when Brandon suddenly felt an immense pressure building inside him, he did his job, he opened his new arsehole mouth and let loose a torrent of rancid, bubbly methane that vibrated his new disgusting mouth and face to let loose the spicy, hot fart Craig had pushed out of him. Now Brandon wouldn’t have time to worry about what he had done to deserve this fate, he would never have a moment to ponder how he had ended up in the most disgusting of positions and he would never ask questions about the state of his being again. Simply because he would be far too busy screaming in distress at the sheer putrid, revolting stench that had escaped from his new puckered mouth as well as taste that now coated his tongue. Being an arse and arsehole now Brandon had no escape from the terrible smell of his workmate’s farts and was now getting to know them in a much more intimate way.

For Brandon time didn’t appear linear anymore, his whole existence revolved around Craig and his bubbling guts. The more Craig drank the more he needed to fart and the more hell Brandon experienced, each fart seemingly added to the foul stench and taste he was forced to endure. The more Craig moved and danced, the more Brandon sweated as he became uncomfortably hot and wet which added another disgusting flavour and miasma to Brandon torture as his chavy work colleagues arse. The more the night went on the more drunk Craig became, losing his inhibitions meant he let more farts rip, danced harder and the more often he shoved his peachy arse in the direction of guys at the bar so the more hard slaps Brandon would receive. The violent rancid smells and tastes were sensory overload for Brandon, he had been pulled into disgusting stupor of pure revulsion meaning he was not aware of how long he had been tortured for or that Craig had now made his way home with a kebab and was ready for bed.

It was only when Craig started to undress that Brandon was now aware that his prolonged tortured at the hands or rather the farts of his work friend was nearly over. He was supposed to spend the night out with Craig and that's just what he had done and so Brandon prayed that he would soon drift away, far away from the life of an arse and an anus. However, the trickster wasn’t finished just yet and after all it was still Brandon’s birthday.

Now Brandon should have drifted away and would have been able to spend the last hour of his birthday as human, probably struggling to deal with the permanent stench of his friend’s farts that now would forever linger around him. But as Craig stripped naked and stumbled to the bathroom the trickster decided he would gift Brandon a little bit more time with his best work buddy Craig.

After the meaty kebab and at least nine or ten beers Craig was nearly ready to go to sleep, that was until his gut rumbled and it seemed Craig had one last thing to do before he could go to bed. Slamming his peachy arse down on the toilet, he scrunched up his face and let out the loudest fart of the evening which was soon followed by something even more foul smelling and disgusting. 

Now watching from the corridor the trickster cackled as the hysteric screaming and crying from Brandon echoed into the toilet bowl, the final gift he was given was just too much for him to handle and so was the giant turd that Craig was now pushing out. The trickster took great pleasure in watching the drunk man slowly drift off to sleep sitting on the toilet, leaving his sentient arse and anus to bathe in the disgusting act they had just committed. For Brandon to stare at what had just snaked out from his mouth and now coated his taste buds. For forty minutes Brandon was frantic, his mind on the verge of breaking in two when finally after what seemed like an eternity he drifted away and the smell and taste of Craig finally disappeared.

When Brandon woke up this time, he found his body sitting upright and his hands clenching at his body and face, he was finally human again, but he would never be the same. Breaking down into tears the birthday boy could remember in great detail every single part and every single fart from his special day and just at the back of his nose was the stench of his friends. Grabbing his phone he looked at the four text messages from his friends all sad they couldn’t spend the day with him but wishing him the best birthday ever. Little did they know what had happened and they never would. Curling up into a ball Brandon tried to forget the harrowing disgusting fart filled day but sadly he never would. At one minute to midnight Brandon’s birthday was just about over and with a wisp of green smoke the words ‘Happy birthday’ tickled the birthday boy's ear causing him to start crying all over again.

The trickster sighed, he didn’t understand why the boy was crying after all he had wished for it and since he had wished to spend his birthday with the boys he would soon find out that this would not be the only birthday he spent with them, in fact for the rest of his life he would spend every single birthday with them.