>You've been captured by a squad of Elites after the rest of your team has been killed.
>Since you are a massive, submissive coward you surrendered right away. The Elites found this amusing and quickly stripped and bound you, laughing at your embarrassment.
>You are transported to their home base, but instead of being tossed into the holding cells the Elites bring you to what appears to be their squad barracks.
>The room seems quite baron, the only furnishings are strange alien beds and chairs, with the occasional holographic display. The room also reeks of Sangheili, though you can't quite put your finger on what the odor actually is.
>You begin to panic as the various Elites begin to approach you. You've heard of UNSC soldiers being tortured and mutilated for information before being executed and fed the the Brutes.
>As you shiver in fear, you are taken aback when the Elites seem to be disrobing. Each one in a various state of undress.
>They ditch their armor plates and helmets, leaving them in just their skin-suits. Even those are soon discarded, leaving their gray flesh open to the air.
>You're heart almost stops beating as you see their genitals begin to twitch and become erect, almost 15 Sangheili warriors gazing down on you, their 4-mandibled mouth twisting into grins.
 >You suddenly realize exactly what they have planned for you.
>No No No! Please not this!
>Your captors seem to be speaking to each other, planning out their advance with an occasional chuckled here and there.
>After they come to an agreement, they approach you. One of the bigger looking ones grabs you by the back of your neck and lifts you straight off the ground.
>You struggle in his grip, kicking your feet and scratching at his freakish Elite hand. He lets out an amused snort and delivers a swift spank to your right buttcheek. You yelp out in humiliation and pain and resign yourself to your fate.
>Your gaze rests on another Elite as he climbs upon one of the beds, you're slightly confused as he relaxes in a classic doggy-style position, his head turned back with a toothy grin and his fat, jiggly asscheeks glistening with sweat.
>You almost feel as if he wants you to fuck him, but that thought is cut short when the Sangheili carrying you instead forces you to kneel behind him, face to face with his tremendous butt.
>The Elites all look at you in anticipation when you hear a quiet hiss and a sickening odor assaults your nostrils.
>"Did he just?"
>The Elites all begin to cheer and laugh in unison, the one in front of you letting out a sigh of relief.
>The stench is ripe, to say the least. A mix of musk, sweat, methane, and whatever foods this Sangheili has been digesting for the past few hours.
>You wrinkle your nose in disgust as the gassy Elite tenses up again, this time the fart erupts with a tremendous "Pthhhhhbutttt", it's enough to make his cheeks ripple and the hot air that blows past your face leaves nothing to the imagination.
>The laughing and cheering grows louder as the Elite continues to unload his stinky payload straight into your unwilling face. You attempt to hold your breath but the stench lingers far to long.
>Each fart seems louder and longer than the last, you almost become dizzy from the funky odor surrounding you.
>You feel hand on the back of your head begin to push you forward, you struggle to keep it back but it's no use, eventually you find your nose buried deep between his rumpcheeks and pressed right against his purple pucker. Your screams are muffled by his giant derriere and his farts have no where else to go but straight into your lungs.
>Tears fill your eyes as the flatulence continues, caused by both the Sangheili's reeking behind and the complete and utter humiliation you are being forced to endure. Could this get any worse?
>The Elite in front of you continues farting for what seems like ages, but eventually the blasts of wind die down to just small toots and puffs.
>You pray that they'll let you stop now, but instead the Elite in front of you simply hops off the bed, being replaced with an even larger warrior with an even larger rump.
>You know what's coming next, you prepare yourself for the next wave of gas when the Sangheili holding you lets go of your neck and instead grabs you by the hips.
>The circle of Elites begin to encroach upon you, no longer satisfied to simply watch. The one grabbing you by your flank seems to be worming something warm and slimy in between your cheeks, you can already guess what it is.
>The Elite in front of you hasn't let out a single toot yet, you wonder what the hold up is until the hotdogging between your buttocks stops, instead you feel a large pole of flesh begin to spread your virgin asshole apart.
>Though his cock is quite slick with pre, it still hurts like a sonofabitch! You let out a pained cry when the Elites around you take action. They grab you by the back of the head and force your gaping maw right against his alien asshole.
>You try with all your might to push your head back or close your mouth but it's no use, the hands on the back of your head are far to strong.
>The first of many farts release directly into your open mouth, working deep into your lungs before working their way out of your nose. You are drowning in their taste and smell, your eyes watering from the noxious flavor.
>Apparently the Sangheili know more English than they let on, as you hear a couple of soldiers in the crowd shouting out things like "Slut" and "Whore", each followed by more laughing and cheering.
>The Elite fucking you has been taking it slow and easy, allowing your rectum time to accommodate his impressive tool. He thrusts in about an inch at a time, before letting it sit there to be squeezed by your anal muscles. You can only imagine that the fucking will become much less friendly after he bottoms out.
>You are close to breaking, this is the worst possible outcome you could think of happening. Being assfucked while sucking farts out of your captors musky butthole. Your cheeks are in a permanent state of red, you couldn't imagine being more humiliated than you are right now.
>What little of your vision isn't being obscured by Sangheili rump is filled with the grabby hands and laughing faces of the rest of the crew, along with a small machine hovering near the ceiling.
>You think for a second what that machine might be, but your question is quickly answered when you catch a glimpse at one of the screens gracing the walls. That machine is a camera, and this whole event is being recorded, and maybe even broadcasted!
>You can feel your resistance slipping away, every single bit of humiliation hits you in an instant. You see your face on the holoscreen out of the corner of your eye, apple red and buried deep between the cheeks of a plump sangheili rump.
>You've tried ignoring the erection you've been sporting, but the stimulation is just to much. You begin to moan and buck your hips, lapping at the smelly asshole in front of you. You take long licks from the base of his ballsack all the way up to the tip of his asscrack, his gas still hissing out occasionally.
>The cheering around you is growing louder. The Elite behind you let's out a primal roar, hilts his cock deep inside you, and unleashes spurt after spurt of thick, viscous spunk. The stuff heats up your insides, leaving you painfully full with alien goo.
>The Sangheili withdraws his member, a trickle of seamen escapes from your stretched pucker as another soldier takes his place. This one doesn't seem interested in foreplay, instead ramming into you with one forceful thrust.
>You think you've cum about 3 times since the fucking began, but after the Sangheili fucking you flips you over your suspicions are found correct. Your belly is covered with jizz, and you are somehow already erect again.
>The crowd takes the opportunity to rush you, some slapping their cocks across your cheeks, forcing you to give them a quick lick or suck; while others press their meaty behinds against your head or torso, farting and rubbing their stench deep into your pores.
>One of the slightly smaller Elites jumps onto the bed, standing triumphantly by your chest. You question his intentions until he places his hoof-like foot directly onto your panting face.
>He grinds his heel into your cheeks for a bit, sometimes forcing your nose between his toes or into the smooth crevices beneath them. The stench is ungodly, nothing but sweat and funky feet stink, with the same musk you've been forced to endure for some time now.
>The Elite fucking you give a particularly strong slap to your rear, causing you to yelp out in pain. This leaves just enough time for the other one to jam his toe/claw into your open mouth. He wiggles the dirty digit across your tongue, leaving you with the taste of unwashed feet and salty Elite flesh.
>Another orgasm, the Elite pulls out and is replaced. You can't control it anymore. You need this.
>You pop the toe out of your mouth and begin lapping at the foot like a man possessed. The Elites sense your willingness and take advantage, presenting you their cocks and asses for you to finger and stroke in unison.
>This goes on for some time. You are flipped into various positions. Fucked in every orifice and are subjected to every degrading thing the crew can think up.
>You have no idea how long the orgy lasts, but eventually the gangbang becomes to much to endure and you gradually black out.
>With a grunt and a sigh, you awaken from your deep sleep, almost forgetting the events that transpired moments ago.
>It all comes back to you with your first breath of air, the stink of Elite rising off your body and permeating the room. Their gas has seeped deep into your pores, even if you tried bathing you'd probably still reek.
>Your body is still quite sore from the rough fucking you just endured. You notice that your asshole is still stretched wide around something. Confused, you reach around to find some sort of plug is buried deep into your bum. You give it a quick tug, but the base is inflated. It's far to big to try to remove.
>You look around the room, which is much nicer than you would have expected. There's the bed you've been sleeping on, a large display screen, and a couple various storage containers and lockers. Worryingly, there is no bathroom in sight.
>Your door opens with a sudden swoosh. A big, tough looking Elite enters the room. You recognize him quickly as the first Sangheili to unload his smelly flatulence on you, making you shiver out of fear.
>The Elite smirks at you shivering, closing the door behind him and approaching you. He extends a single claw and points towards you.
>"Tark" he grunts, "Name. Tark."
>You seem to understand that he's decided to name you Tark. You're tempted to tell him that's not your actual name, but you simply nod your head and comply.
>The Elite's claw slowly curls back, pointing to himself now.
>"Larg."
>Well, at least you're on a first-name basis with this Elite, Larg seems the most kind out of all the soldiers you've met thus far, and that's saying a lot.
>Larg digs through on of the containers gracing the wall, pulling out what looks like a thin metal collar. He approaches you, without thinking twice he places the collar around your neck. It clicks into place, surprisingly comfy but no less demeaning.
>"Pet" Larg giggles, ruffling your hear and pressing his claw against your collar. With a whir and a buzz, a thick line of blue energy emerges from the front of your collar, connecting with a small panel on Larg's gauntlet. You realize that the blue energy is a glorified alien leash, and as Larg gives it a gentle tug you feel yourself compelled to follow.
>Larg presses his hand against the door again, causing it to slide open. Your knees quiver as you realize he expects you to parade your naked body through the hallways, with a collar around your neck and a buttplug buried in your rear end.
>You really don't have much of a choice in the matter, so you go along, face burning from shame
>A couple Elites pass by you, giving quick chuckles or even making a grab at your bare ass.
>Eventually your journey ends, you and Larg enter another alien looking room. This one seems like a mix between an laboratory and a locker room.
>9ft outfitting stations rise from out of the floor, designed for quickly equipping the Sangheili with their skin-suits and armor. Oddly enough, there seems to be one that stands at just your height.
>Larg motions you to enter the strange device, you hastily comply, not wanting to keep your master waiting.
>The machine whirs to life, small arms and scanners surrounding you.
>After you've been properly sized up, the arms get to work.
>They begin wrapping your body in a similar skin-suit to the one the Elites wear. Much like their suits, it leaves little to the imagination.
>After your suit is fitted, they equip your semi-erect penis with a strange, holographic sleeve. Larg presses a button on his wrist and the sleeve bends your cock back down, preventing it from becoming erect. You can only whimper as you realize that he has complete control over your straining member.
>More arms approach you, attaching a small, triangular tank to your back, much like what the Grunts wear.
>The tank has multiple straps and harnesses that worm their way around your torso, along with to tubes connecting to a mouth-piece which is being attached to your face.
>The machine drops you to the floor, you land on your hands and knees, looking up at Larg's toothy grin and hardening penis.
>Larg presses another button on his wrist, and for a moment your air-supply is halted. You claw at the mask as you dizzy from lack of oxygen.
>Larg presses another button, and suddenly a rush of air bursts through the mask, well, sort of air.
>"Oh God, Please no!"
>The air is tainted with the sickening aroma of Elite flatulence. It's like you're face to face with another stinky Sangheili backside.
>Your eyes tear up and you crawl to Larg's leg, looking up through blurry eyes for a hint of sympathy.
>Larg let's out a long, throaty laugh. He grabs you by the back of your neck and helps you to your feet.
>A small display pops from your mask, with a list of rooms, objects, and areas; along with a detailed map.
>"Clean" Larg growls, giving you a slap on the ass and pushing you through the door.
>You turn around to complain, but the door has already closed. Instead a small hatch opens up and a cart slides through, containing several alien looking brooms and sponges.
>You groan, realizing that he expects you to spend the day as a slutty little fart-breathing slave.
>You compose yourself, groaning at the flavor and smell of each rancid breath as you grab the cart and make your way to the first of many things that need cleaned.
>Cleaning an entire Covenant ship is quite an intensive workout, leaving you sweaty and tired by the end.
>The labor is made even worse by the constant influx of Sangheili wind being forced into your mouth and nose. The mask is air-tight so that every breath is a hearty lung-full of alien flatulence.
>As you busy yourself with scrubbing toilets and wiping floors, you are constantly reminded of the events that transpired last night (at least you think it was last night).
>At first you were disgusted by even the smallest memory of what happened, but the more you work the more you reminisce about the rough fucking you received. You even imagine the taste and smells you were constantly assaulted with. Each fart having it's own unique characteristics, differing in smell, taste, and sound.
>The stirring in your groin becomes apparent as the chastity device strains to keep your erection down. You groan and whimper as you finish cleaning and begin the journey back to your quarters.
>You feel your "air" supply suddenly cut off, knowing quite well what is happening. Apparently your gas mask is designed to stop airflow at random, leaving you gasping for about 30 seconds before giving you a giant burst of gas. You feel your lungs begin to burn with need before the mask is filled with the gloriou... foul stench of Sangheili backside.
>As you finally arrive at the barracks, you prepare to enter the door when a familiar pair of claws snatches you and brings you inside, leaving your cart and supplies out for someone else to gather.
>Larg must have been waiting for you, and judging by his nude body and twitching member you can guess why.
>He wastes no time in removing your skinsuit, tearing at the sides and letting your backpack fall to the ground. He removes the breathing apparatus from your back and face, giving you your first breath of fresh air in almost 4 hours.
>You have been waiting to take that mask off for ever! You take in a big lung-full of oxygen and... gasp...
>Something isn't right. The smell, the flavor, it's just... wrong. It's so sterile and unloving. You feel like it's burning your throat and lungs with every breath you take.
>You fall to your knees and grasp at Larg's feet, hands shaking and tears in your eyes. You beg and plead with Larg, not knowing how to say it but hoping he understands your desire.
>Larg must have been aware that this would happen, as he gives another throaty laugh and grabs you by the back of your head. He turns your head upward, crouching over you and directing your gaze directly into his eyes.
>"Beg..."
>With tears in your eyes, you cry out how much you need his gas. You fall to his feet and begin licking his feet, showing how submissive and desperate you've become.
>Larg laughs again, turning to present you with his fat rump. You can see beads of sweat drip down the cheeks. It looks like he's been busy.
>"I guess you've earned it." He chuckles. You don't waste a second as you dive between his cheeks. Breathing in all the musk and stink you can.
>Larg holds nothing back, giving you blast after blast of spicy, rancid flatulence, the trumpeting sound muffled by your face buried in his rump.
>Tears still stream down your face as you realize how low you've sunken. How could you stoop this low?
>Larg pulls you from his ass, giving you one last squeaky fart before you are forced back onto your back.
>Larg walks out of your sight for a couple seconds, returning with your mask and gas-pack. The mask seems to have an odd nozzle sticking into the mouth piece.
>You open your mouth obediently for Larg to place your mask back on. The nozzle buries itself deep in your mouth and you can feel the rush of flatulence deep in your throat.
>You let out a frightened whimper. You didn't need this much! You can feel the gas being forced into your fleshy body, causing your stomach to bulge.
>The bulge in your tummy grows to the size of a basketball, you're painfully aware of how uncomfortable it is, the cramps almost more noticeable than the horrid wind you're breathing in.
>You feel like you're about to pop! You flail about helplessly on the floor until you hear the hiss of air slowly stop and the flatulence slowly stops flowing into your lungs.
>Larg removes the mask shortly after. You let out a huge belch of methane in a desperate attempt to relive the pressure in your stomach. You can only burp up so much before you feel the gas building up at your back exit.
>Larg can barely hold back his laughter as he flips you onto your stomach, tucking your knees under you so your rump is fully on display.
>You whimper as the first few squeaks of sangheili farts erupt from your anus. You attempt to let it out in short bursts, but due to the amount of gas and the looseness of your butthole due to the fuckings, it slowly starts coming out in long, trumpeting blasts.
>The sound is comical, drowning out the hearty laughter of Larg as he fans the air in front of his nose. You've sustained the same fart for almost 2 minutes now, the bulge slowly shrinking but the air quality in the room slowly dropping.
>With a few final squeaks, you're finally finished. You pant after the amount of pushing you've just endured, trying to avert your gaze from Larg's sly grin. He helps you onto your feet, giving you a pat on the shoulder and a quick pinch to your bottom.
>"You'd make a fine Elite, stinky." He suggests. You ponder what he means by this but simply write it off as an odd compliment.