The Treatment

The Treatment

by ButtBully ([e-mail])

I figured that I didn’t have much of a choice. My future career as a swimmer hinged on the success of this treatment. I thought about the many possibilities that would open up to me once I was free of asthma, a childhood ailment that had gotten progressively worse as I got older. Now, in my first year of college, and hoping to train for a spot in the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, I was desperate for a cure. I had already done all the research and there is absolutely no cure for asthma – just various treatments and medications that could offset attacks. So when one of my teammates from the swim team told me about a procedure that he had participated in that had completely eliminated all of his asthma symptoms, I was shocked and eager to find out more. He explained to me that it was just a series of physicals and a few uncomfortable shots, and then some scheduled check-ups (every six months)so that the doctors could monitor the effectiveness of the treatment—and that was it! No more asthma! I was excited but very skeptical. I asked him why a bonafied cure for asthma would not have been made known to the public. He told me that the doctors said that because the treatment involves the use of a new chemical agent, the FDA has rendered the procedure unsafe in most regions of the United States. However, there was an international team doctors in the United Kingdom who were taking new patients on a case-by-case basis for treatment. It was largely experimental, and the doctors did not promise absolute success, but so far they could boast of an 85% success rate. That was all I needed to hear. I made my plans, scheduled an appointment, and was on the plane to the UK the following month.

The facility was rather large, but in a very rural and remote area (with lots of trees). I kind of thought that was odd, but didn’t think much about it. My nerves were going crazy. I couldn’t believe that there was a chance—a significant chance that I would never have to worry about carrying a “rescue inhaler” again. I was greeted in the front lobby by a dainty receptionist who greeted me with a kind smile and asked me to take a seat—they had been expecting me, “Dr. Rodriguez will be with you shortly, Mr. Harris.” I waited for ten whole minutes, which felt more like two hours! Would it be possible to finally live without asthma? I would be an unstoppable force on the swim team—155 pounds of pure lean muscle, and no breathing issues! I would be able to via for a spot on the USA Olympic swim team. I was deep in thought when a large shadow loomed over me. Startled, I looked up to see a rather tall brown-skinned, and husky gentleman smiling down at me warmly. His gentle face was framed by a full well-kempt beard that bore a distinguished gray streak; the hair on his head was curly and trimmed. He was dressed in white lab coat, but underneath I noticed a shirt and tie, and a pair of dark gray slacks that were possibly a size too small for what appeared to be a massive set of thighs. He casually nudged his glasses, which had slid down his broad nose, back up closer to his face, extended a warm right hand to me and greeted me in a distinguished voice: “Wonderful to meet you Mr. Harris. I am Dr. Rodriguez—Our team is delighted to take on your case. Please, come with me. I would like to show you the facility and introduce you to the other specialists.” I eagerly shook his hand and followed him—I couldn’t hide the smile on my face, and neither could he.

As we walked down a series of long corridors, I realized that the facility grew more dim; we seemed far away from the bright noonday sunlight from outside. Dr. Rodriguez and I made small talk about my asthma as we turned yet another corner. I found myself constantly looking up to him as he was a hulking figure with a tremendous presence. But then again, with my sinewy swimmer’s build, everybody seemed “hulking” to me. But he was a big guy, easily a foot taller than me and heavy-bodied. I listened to him talk about his growing medical practice, but only half-heartedly—my mind was on the strange facility. There seemed to be many windowless doors—it looked more like a lab than a hospital for patience. A few rooms did have windows however, and as we walked by them (they were unlit) I noticed some had strange-looking gurneys or cots with what looked like arm rests in the middle of them. I kind of scratched my head, made a mental note to aks Dr. Rodriguez about them, and shrugged it off.

“…so that’s when I made an interesting discover at the Harvard Medical school, Mr. Harris…,” continued Dr. Rodriguez. “And now we have found a method to significantly reduce, if not all together eliminate, the symptoms of asthma, emphysema, and other sever respiratory conditions. Our practice is a bit unorthodox, but we collectively believe in driving the science of these ailments forward, no matter the cost,” he explained. Finally we arrived in comfortable room with four other men in white lab coats and two orderlies, all of who seemed to be waiting for Dr. Rodriguez and to arrive. Dr. Rodriguez warmly introduced me to the small gathering of doctors. I was impressed by the various nationalities represented. But then again, he had told me that this effort was an international one. One of the doctors was a white British man, Dr. Bernard. Two were from Africa, one a tall young Egyptian, Dr. Ahmose, and the other a massive gentleman from Ghana, Dr. Baako. Finally, there was Dr. Gupta another tall and distinguished (and heavy) man, who appeared to be from India or one of those countries. The two orderlies were young Nigerian medical students who were doing their residencies at the facility. I was impressed by the group professionals in front of me and their warmth prevented me from being too intimidated, since I was clearly the smallest in size among the group.

I sat with Dr. Rodriguez for what must have been one full hour, going over my medical transcripts with him. He had many questions. He had to be sure that I would be a good candidate for the treatment. He took blood, tested my reflexes, and administered countless breathing exams, all the while taking detailed notes. He had grown very quiet as he worked, making sure to record every detail. He also measured the circumference of my head and the properties of my facial features, like my mouth and nose…I though that was a bit odd. Every once in a while he would have to get up and go to the other room. A few times, I watched him and noticed hos massive his dimensions were. His lab coat would periodically right up his hops as he sat and worked, and when he got up, I was presented with the full size of his gigantic buttocks and thighs in those gray dress pants, as he walked away. He was a big guy. I wondered if he had ever played football many years ago. He came back with a series of liability agreements and non-disclosure forms that I quickly signed (I never read through those things) and we were ready to get started.

“Finally, Mr. Harris, it’s time to begin Phase 1 of your treatment!” He administered a series of awful injections in my right arm. “Try to hold still Mr. Harris,” he firmly instructed me while holding my arm with one massive hand. I was excited that this was happening. I could already feel my chest getting looser! But I was also feeling a bit woozy.

“Dr. Rodriguez, I feel incredible! I think it’s working! – But my head feels funny”

“Yes,” he calmly exclaimed. “But you will need to go through the full treatment for the affects to be permanent. – and as for the wooziness you are feeling, don’t worry—It’s just the sedative beginning to work.” Now that we have officially begun your treatment, we must carefully administer the remainder of the chemical agent to you. But it is far too powerful to be injected any more. Phase 2 of your process will have you inhale the agent.

“Wait! You gave me a sedative?....Wha- what do I need a sedative for…?” I was confused, but suddenly very drowsy.

“Just relax, Mr. Harris. We will continue with Phase 2 shortly,” Dr. Rodriguez calmly explained.

*********

When I came to, I was staring at what had to be a ceiling. “Welcome back, Mr. Harris, the husky doctor exclaimed warmly. He came into my field of vision above me and I realized that I was on my back. When I tried to sit up, my arms and legs wouldn’t move. “Just relax, Mr. Harris. We are about to start Phase 2 of your procedure. For this Phase, we have found it necessary to keep our patients restrained, both for your safety and ours.” I was growing concerned and very confused. I opened my mouth to ask him a question but couldn’t speak! “My apologies about the mouth strap, Mr. Harris, but again, for our safety, as we administer the remainder of the chemical agent, we must keep you, shall we say, ‘muzzled,’ –to prevent any biting. And considering the scope of the treatment, we all completely understand what will be your natural instinct to resist and fight back. Just remember that we have your best interest in mind.

Biting? What the fuck was he talking about? I craned my neck up and saw what looked like an armrest above my waist. I was in one of those beds that I had observed as we came into the facility. I looked around nervously and began to take in my surroundings—there wasn’t much. A large window facing the outside hallway, but the drapes to it were shut. A dimly-lit room and at least three other people, the orderlies and The dark-skinned doctor from Ghana, Dr. Baako, who was standing and busy taking notes. I finally noticed a terrible odor lingering in the room—It smelled like rotten eggs—like somebody had seriously farted and left the window closed. I was very concerned, since none of this made any sense to me.

“Mr. Harris, I must apologize for the way this is being done, but our past dealings with patients have informed us that this is the best possible way to move forward with your treatment. I assure you that we mean you no harm. Please try and relax.”

As he spoke, he took off his lab coat, revealing his large husky body in shirt, tie, and slacks. His hips were massive and his thighs looked about ready to burst from his snug-fitting slacks. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, as there was little to no ventilation in the room. As talked, he walked around the bed to which I was restrained—I noticed his thick profile and finally saw the massive size of his prominent meaty posterior. He was a very big man.

Dr. Rodriguez’s normally friendly demeanor became ridged, firm, and matter-of-fact. “The chemical agent that we discovered is a powerful one. Our tests revealed that it best impacts the symptoms of respiratory diseases when it is combined with a gas known as methane. Now, injecting you with this type of concoction is terribly dangerous. We cannot risk it. However, we have found that administering the chemical compound as a vapor, or a gas, and having it inhaled by our patients, works wonders! As you know, the body releases methane gas in the form of flatus, air that is released through the anus as waste. When this natural occurring gas is mixed with the chemical agent, it actually begins a regenerative process of restoring proper breathing to the person who inhales the compound. Today, we will start the process of introducing the gaseous medicine to your system. I admit, it will be a difficult procedure for you to go through, but I promise you that we will do everything we can to make it as easy as possible…”

I was confused and in disbelief. Was he proposing what I thought he was proposing? I futilely tugged at and fought my arm and leg restraints, scanning the room for a way out of this. I gathered what the doctor was eluding to, but I refused to allow my mind to go in the direction that he was hinting. Meanwhile, the husky physician had already begun to unfasten the belt around his pants. He continued to explain what was about to happen to me…

“Please, Mr. Harris, we only want what is best for you,” he calmly expressed, in the manner that a pediatrician would to a child who is about to receive a booster shot. “You need to realize that all of us truly believe in this treatment. So, we are all volunteers in helping to heal you of your ailments. Allow me to explain: Because of the powerful make-up of the chemical agent, I, along with the other doctors that you met earlier, have injected portions of the medication into our own bodies. This will allow it to mix with the naturally occurring methane that we produce and release in the form of flatus. The safest way for your body to receive this chemical compound is by inhaling this gaseous mixture directly from us – That is to say, we will each have a session with you, during which time, we will transfer the medication to you by releasing our natural gases on or around your face. The strong vapors that we will produce are medicinal. It won’t be pleasant, Mr. Harris, and I can completely understand your disgust in all of this, but I assure you that this is the most effective method to cure you of your ailment.”

He had already begun to do the unthinkable—He unzipped his pants and began to shuffle his massive buttocks and thighs out of the garment, revealing a snug pair of Hanes tighty-whiteys that clung tightly to his body, and that revealed the vast expanse of his heavy buttocks. I was in disbelief and began to struggle fruitlessly as he approached the special bed to which I was restrained. I couldn’t go through with this and wanted out—immediately. There was no way this was happening. In a flash, he had straddled the tiny cot with his arms resting on the arm-bar over my waist, so that he was leaning slightly forward with the gigantic globes of his posterior hovering over my chest. His brown hairy legs, which were now on either side of my little body, were massive. Based on what he had explained to me, I now realized that he intended to sit on my face and pass gas—for an extended period of time—and I was powerless to stop him! I shook my head from side to side and made as many sounds as I could to tell him to stop the procedure—that I didn’t want this—that I wouldn’t be able to handle this. As if he could read my mind, he reminded me of the release forms that I had signed. By contract, he could keep me in my place until the treatment was completed--which couple take anywhere from hours to days. “We have already begun,” he explained as he shifted his body back, his massive backside was now looming ominously over my face, each heavy cheek wobbling independent of the other, in a hypnotic rhythm. Dr. Rodriguez had a huge ass. “Please relax—it will make this a lot easier for the both of us.” As he spoke, the massive cheeks of his ass jiggled. I was clearly panicking, but Dr. Rodriguez was treating this treatment as any other medical procedure. He ignored my reactions to his massive ass over my face and continued to feed me instructions. As he spoke, there was an eerie professionalism in his voice that match the terrible situation in which I had found myself.

“To administer the medication most effectively, you will need to take deep breaths. Now, naturally, because of the putrid smell of the medicinal flatus that I will be releasing with some frequency on your face, your natural inclination will be to hold your breath. So the technique that I must use to properly administer your treatment will be to prevent you from breathing for a series of moments, and then release my gas onto your face, ensuring that on your first deep inhale, you take in the maximum amount of medicine. I will do this by sitting directly on your face and not allowing you the opportunity to breathe for a while—and then I will release my gas. Now, your natural instinct will be to try to try to escape and breathe—in fact you may feel like you are suffocating and about to pass out. You will try to buck me off and turn your face—it is only natural, Mr. Harris. The orderly will help me keep your face positioned properly between my buttocks. Also, as you can see—a man of my prodigious dimensions will have little to no trouble maintaining control over your face. In fact, as we screened international doctors for this special treatment, we were sure to hire physicians who had physical statures that were conducive to properly immobilizing faces for this medical procedure.” He looked back and smiled warmly at me from his leaning position as he jokingly shook his buttocks over my chest and face. “Simply put, Mr. Harris, we all have big legs and big butts,” he chuckled. Everyone in the room laughed a bit at the doctor’s comment—everyone except me. He was trying to lighten up the atmosphere a bit, but I was terrified. I knew that I couldn’t handle this. Why wasn’t he allowing me to back out of the treatment? “You will try to avoid this, Mr. Harris—it’s only natural that you will, as this may be rather unpleasant for you. Your instincts will be in fight or flight mode. But my greatest concern will be to make sure that you take in the medication. I may have to use a certain amount of force to prevent escape. My buttocks are large enough that you won’t be able to easily elude me. Please try your best to cooperate—we only have your best interest in mind.”

With that, he signaled to the orderly for assistance and two large black hands surrounded the sides of my face, pointing it directly upward. I was unable to look away. The mouth guard and band around my face prevented me from protesting. As the big doctor prepared sit on my face, he reached back to the massive globes of his ass, his fingers actually inside of the briefs, and heaved upwards, spreading the two wobbly hemispheres of his buttocks as far apart as possible. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I instinctively tried to turn my face away, but the orderly was ready for my reaction and held fast to the sides of my head, speaking to me in what was supposed to be a comforting tone, with a heavy African accent, “do not be afraid, Mr. Harris.”

As if it was an after thought, Dr. Rodriguez looked back at me as he began to lower himself down and said, “Oh—and don’t worry Mr. Harris, we have all properly cleaned and disinfected for your treatment. Please hold still. The goal is to align your nose directly underneath my anus.” He used one of the fingers spreading his ass open to point to and rub the large bud of his anus, the shape of which I could see through his white briefs. “You will feel moments of suffocation and might panic. And the smell will intensify over the next hour or two. Your natural violent reactions to this will be normal and expected. Please exhale right now. It will make this easier on you. Let us begin.”

However, instinctively, as he projected, I inhaled instead. I caught a terrible whiff of butt smell, and then there was heat and darkness. It had all happened fast after that. The massive cheeks of his ass had fully encircled me as he pounced on my face suddenly. My nose was actually directly underneath his asshole, just as he had wanted. His full-sized ass was oppressive on my little face. A man of this stature undoubtedly sweated a lot—a clear indication of this was the amount of anal moisture that had already formed in the crack of his big behind. My nose was stuck in his nether region. I could feel the wetness—the moisture that was caused by his personal sweat and funk. There must have been foot rests attached to the cot, because I could sense his massive legs move into a full seated position. It must have looked like he was riding a bicycle. I couldn’t believe how massive this man was. I was unable to breathe and was now panicking, just as he foreshadowed. The orderly had let go of my face so that the heavy cheeks of Dr. Rodriguez’s buttocks would fully bury me. It had been approximately 30 seconds and I needed to breathe badly. I instinctively started to turn my face to the left to sneak a breath of air. But, he was already prepared for me to do this. “You’re doing good, Mr. Harris…just continue to hold still,” as he said this, pressed down harder, fully understanding my need for air, but also determined to administer the medication properly. I was unable to move. I began in earnest to turn my face away, to escape the confines of his huge buttocks. But he was too big to unseat from my face. “It’s ok, Mr. Harris…Just a little longer…”

I screamed into my mouth guard, but under all that ass it probably only sounded like a muffled squeal. I was going to die. I knew it. He refused to move. The flesh on my face was dark and wet. I could feel his anus twitching uncontrollably against my nose as he shifted his weight to prevent me from breathing. I knew that part of the tension in his anus was due to the fact that he was purposefully holding in his gas…waiting for the right moment to release it on my face. This gigantic man was going to fart on me, and I literally had no say-so in the matter. There was no escaping this. I could feel the heavy cheeks of his butt flex and relax as he gently rode out my instinctive struggles. “Relax, Mr. Harris…Please don’t fight me…” Just as I was about to black out, I felt his weight lift ever so slightly…I tried then to turn my face to avoid the inevitable, but the monstrous size of each of his cheeks prevented me from doing so. He shifted slightly allowing the tiniest pocket of space between my nose and the damp fabric covering his sweaty anus…the muscular orifice was still pressed on my nose…but I now had just enough room to breathe…it was as if he had studied smothering techniques…Just as I instinctively began to inhale life-giving air that would prevent me from passing out, I felt his anus open up around my nose and violently vibrate: “BBBBRRRRRAAAAaaPPPttt! PPphhhhhfffffffffffssssssssss!” a thunderous crack following by a long hissing sound pervaded my senses. I was dumbfounded. The terrible, inescapable heat and odor of Dr. Rodriguez’s whopping fart burned my nostrils and made my eyes water as I was forced to take it all in. I had no choice. I bucked on the medical gurney in disgust and anguish and was momentarily able to unseat the massive doctor from my face, but he gave chase and immediately flopped his fat buttocks back down on me and continued the treatment with a barrage of hot windy gaseous emissions: “PPPppppphhhhhhhhhhhhhffffffssssssss……ffffffssssssssss” He would sigh with relief and press his heavy ass down against my face after each terrible fart. I tried my best to escape, but was unable to. “Just one more, Mr. Harris,” he said as he wrestled my face with his mighty cheeks. He reached behind himself to hold my head still. I tugged at my restraints but was absolutely powerless. The next eggy fart hissed out for several agonizing seconds. He consciously shuffled his buttocks down harder, totally immersing me in ass and paused without movement. I was in hell. The dampness of his asscrack, the oppressive weight of his massive cheeks, and the foul stink that I was forced to inhale were too much. When he was certain that I had taken in as much of the medication on this first series of inhales, he raised his buttocks up so that they were once again hovering over my face. He looked back at me and smiled warmly again. “Great job, Mr. Harris. You are doing great.” I glared back at him—I was seething with anger and very frightened that this was about to happen to me again…

“We have quite a while to go, so please continue to cooperate. Try not to fight when I’m in the proper seated position. Naturally, you won’t be able to fend off my sizable buttocks as they advance on you. You must fight your instincts to turn away and escape, Mr. Harris. As you can see, my buttocks are considerably larger than your face. You will not be able to prevent me from sitting on your face and administering the treatment. Please understand that we mean you no harm—this is all in your best interest.” He, once again spread open his cheeks…this time I could see a very clear line of sweat staining the crack and anus portion of his underpants. I panicked. Quickly turning my face to the side—it was my only line of defense against him. I needed them to understand that I wanted the treatment to stop. I waited for the hands of the orderly to realign my head, but instead Dr. Rodriguez slowly lowered his massive buttocks down to my face. He sat his heavy cheeks on the side of my face…hard and spoke to me: “Mr. Harris, I am trying me best to make this treatment as easy for you as possible, but I need your full cooperation. You nose must be aligned with my anus, Mr. Harris. Please do not fight this.” After scolding me, he lifted up and signaled to the orderly, who held my face upward and still. I watched the slow descent of Dr. Rodriguez’s ass all over again. “Please exhale, Mr. Harris—and do not fight back. I’m going to sit on your face now.” I strained like hell against the strong hands of the orderly but could not turn away. Dr. Rodriguez brought his massive buttocks down so that my face was just inside the spread crack.—my nose was nudging his brief-clad anus….I could smell his musk and the remainder of his last eggy fart. Please exhale Mr. Harris. I refused and held my breath instead. He then sat his meaty buttocks back down on me and I was covered again. I felt like I was inside an oven. It didn’t take long before I was desperate for air. I began to buck and fight in earnest. His meaty cheeks wouldn’t move. I managed at one point to actually turn my face to the right—but he quickly countered my actions, using his heavy posterior to shift my face back inside his butt. I was at his mercy and unable to defend myself. I was determined not to go through this anymore. I fought back hard, twisting my body and face as much as possible, but he very easily rode me down…his mighty backside on my neck…and then pushing over my face again…I was devastated. I watched as he once again spread the crack of his ass and reintroduced me to his smelly butthole. “Please control yourself Mr. Harris—your struggles are doing you no good and are wasting precious time. I’m going to sit on your face again. There is nothing you can do to stop me.” This had suddenly turned into a cat and mouse chase…a tug of war…Dr. Rodriguez was determined to demonstrate to me that he had full control over my face…That he would complete the treatment. At one point during my struggle, I caught a glimpse of his brown, bearded face looking down at me as he used his massive thighs to try and trap my face—I think I actually saw him smirking…then he quickly winked at me!…was he enjoying this? “Please relax Mr. Harris…” His bubble butt slammed down heavily again, and this time I couldn’t twist away ….My nose was once again sealed in his crack. For good measure, he spread open his cheeks more and pressed down harder. Once again, I felt the sweaty digit of his twitching anus pressed against my nose. I involuntarily inhaled the overwhelming musky odor that was naturally emanating from his hole…Then he shifted his weight again, and I could no longer breathe. He waited….He must have been sitting for nearly 45 seconds when my lungs felt like they would burst…He sensed me body about to fight and pressed his buttocks down heavily to prevent any escape. “Hold still Mr. Harris…just 20 more seconds…” I was in agony…I trued to turn away…I could feel his hole flexing again…He was holding in another cloud of butt gas…10 more seconds…I didn’t know what was worse...the feeling of being suffocated, or being forced to inhale the foul air that he was about to unleash on me….5 seconds left…I was praying for death…I wouldn’t be able to handle this…Then once again, at the very brink of passing out, I sensed a tiny pocket of breathing space which was quickly overtaken by noxious rectal air. His anus yawned open and my nose, which was in the direct line of fire, was assaulted by a series of silent hissing gas bombs: “fffffsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss! PPphhhbblttssssssssssssss” The massive doctor let out an audible “AAaaahhhh” and wiggled his meaty backside against my face again….sealing my nose and making sure I was taking in the full blast of his toxic emission. As I struggled to breathe and resist, I could hear him instructing me, “Please relax Mr. Harris…we have only begun your treatment.” He lifted up again for a quick breather. I was weeping and angry. I stubbornly turned my face to the side once again. “Mr. Harris, Try not to fight against me. You must submit to this treatment, as we have already begun your procedure.” I felt the hands of the orderly once again forcing me to look above at Dr. Rodriguez’s terrible, massive backside. I was shaking in fear. “Mr. Harris, because of your struggling and resistance, I’m afraid that you aren’t getting the full dosage of the medication. Please understand that I must administer my flatus to you in a way that will ensure that the treatment is effective.” With that, he hooked his thumbs underneath the waistband of his underpants. I knew what he was about to do and began to cry…I was actually crying. “Do not be afraid, Mr. Harris. This is for the best.” He slowly peeled his damp underpants down over the vast expanse of his chunky buttocks, revealing two brown hairy hemispheres of buttflesh. I instinctively tried to escape, but couldn’t shake the hands of the orderly from my head. Dr. Rodriguez was silent as he looked back and down at me, observing my reaction. I swear that I saw a slight smirk on his face as he slowly heaved the cheeks open and revealed a deep asscrack with matted sweaty hair, surrounding a dark purple anus that jutted out into a mouth-like bud of wrinkled flesh. The wild heady odor of Latino musk wafted down to my terrified face as he began to lower his buttocks, once again. The smell only intensified as he got closer. I was smelling his anus. He knew it...I knew it...everyone in the room realized this...and I was powerless to prevent what was about to happen. I just wouldn't be able to handle this...This was too much. I sobbed and looked around for some way out of this. I screamed into my mouth guard again. Dr. Rodriguez glanced back at me and I swear he winked again. "Try not to resist Mr. Harris. This has to happen this way. Remember, your nose needs to be underneath my anus for the proper seal." The pursed lips of his anus unexpectedly rattled as a small stream of butt gas was unintentionally released from his ass. It lit the air around my face with the promise of another bout of suffocation underneath the massive doctor's buttocks. The putrid stink of his wrinkled orifice showed me no mercy. I struggled intently against the hands of the orderly, but it proved to be a futile effort. I could clearly seethe beads of sweat that had formed on and around the doctor's hairy anus. It yawned open again, resembling a purple death trap as the massive globes shifted into the seated position. As my prone face was once again eclipsed by Dr. Rodriguez's monstrous buttocks, he spoke gently to me in a reassuring voice: "You must not resist me, Mr. Harris. Please try and relax..." Then the terrible activity of obscenely pressing the damp stinky bud of his winking anus against my flared nostrils began. The natural oils, sweat, and musk from his anal cavity became a nasty lube of sorts....I was breathing wildly through my nostrils, desperate to escape, trying to push out the terrible odors that I was forced to take in. I felt the tip of my nose sink into the hairy moist pit for a clean unbreakable seal. It was time to suffocate again. The fleshy walls of his meaty ass fell around my face as he released each cheek. "Let the treatment, resume," I heard the doctor say as my lungs began to burn for air all over again...

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