James Duke
patreon
Centorea The Smelly Horse
🕑 Added 2023-05-09 14:39:28 +0000 UTCTags: Heavy slob, gas, Centaur girl, XWG, personality change, teasing.
PudgyNote: Working on prompts and bigger stories, but wanted to share this with you all as a way to keep things rolling.
"Ma-manure? Animal smell? Horse butt?" Centorea Shianus went deathly pale as she heard the other women discussing her. The frank and honest discussion about such an intimate subject bore its way into her mind. The impudent, churlish cackling of the other women rattled its way through the deep reaches of her mind. She had never once considered that a strong, proud woman like herself could smell like anything other than a field of lilacs and sunlight. Her tail twitched, swishing over her large rump. The instinctive motion only made her feel worse. What smells were lurking on her body that she did not know about.
"Well, you do get used to it." Miia said, her mouth turning into a predators smile. "I will admit, it took a while for me to get used to slithering downwind of you." The room of monster girls laughed, each cackling in their own way.
"I do not smell!" Centorea tried to mount a defense. She wracked her brain, trying to remember any piece of ammunition to hurl at the other women. Yet, nothing came to her. Despite the various species represented, the centaur could not remember anything. Even Miia and Mero, lizards and fish having their own distinctive odors, seemed exempt. "I am very well groomed." Centorea huffed, her back leg stamping out of frustration. She hefted her arms under her gigantic breasts, unconsciously moving to her most appreciated asset. Had she kept her eyes open, she might have noticed Miia's tail flicking something off her side.
"Well groomed?" Centorea opened her eyes at the question. Her soul nearly left her body as she saw the lamia holding a muddy piece of straw. It had been days since she had last gone riding. Her hooves scratched at the flooring of the room as she tried to fight against her horsey instincts. "I dunno, seems like you might need a couple more rub downs." Miia shrugged, pretending as if her words didn't matter.
"No! It's not true!" The room shook as the centaurs naturally heavy body backed up. Centorea panicked, afraid of what further discoveries would come to her. To learn this whole time she stank, that she was just a common barnyard, breeder animal was too much. She galloped out of the room, laughter echoing behind her. As she ran, tears filled her eyes. She barreled out of the house, trying to free herself from the judgment of the other women. She galloped away from the house and out into the country. It wasn't until the sounds of the neighborhood were far behind her that she finally began to think again.
"Do. . .do I smell?" She voiced the question, perhaps asking the gods themselves. She lifted an armpit. Her delicate, dainty nose moved as she sniffed the sweaty pit. "No!" She jerked her head away as a faint smell of onions came to her. "It must smell so much worse to everyone." She sobbed. Too consumed with embarrassment to stop, she clopped in a circle, trying to catch a whiff of her horse half, especially her large rear. Ghost-smells haunted her nasal passages. Centorea was quickly convinced of her own fumes. "This is so embarrassing." She dropped her heavy butt onto the dusty ground, not bothering to make sure her dress was covering her tawny cheeks. "I'm a stupid, smelly horse-creature." She moaned, mind reeling.
The centaur slowly began to rewrite every interaction she had in her mind. Social situations were now colored with the supposed knowledge of her smell. Her other traits now fell short before the looming threat of improper hygiene. The blonde woman rocked back and forth, swaying as she considered being bound to a barn smell that might never leave. "Am I stuck as a smelly beast?" She asked, too afraid of what the answer might be. Defeated, she began to wonder how best to accept this knowledge.
Had she not been in such a state of concern, she might have realized that her headlong gallop away from the house might have caused the perspiration and odor to build up.
---
"Centorea! This isn't funny!" Miia pounded on the door many months later. "You've ruined all my good clothes!" She whined. Her anger flashed hotter and hotter. One hand clutched a cute shirt, now irrevocably tarnished. It looked aged and a little withered, as if it had been placed in a barn to rot away. "You owe meeee!" The lamia cried, tossing the shirt at the door. It hit with a wet splat, having absorbed the constant clouds of noxious vapors now floating around the house.
BRRRRMMMMPPPPPTTT! FFFLLLMMMRRRTTT!
Miia received her response in the form of two farts so deep, thick, and pungent that they could have only come from a horse's ass. The door Miia stood in front of rattled on its hinges and visibly green and brown clouds poured from the sides. Miia's eyes watered and burned, her body sent into shock as she took the animal-stink into her own body. She was so unnerved that she did not hear the heavy tread of hooves approach the door. DRRRMMMMFFFFRRRTTT! The door bent outwards for a moment as more gaseous pressure built up behind it. The wood seeped with absorbed moisture, taken in from the wayward inhabitant. The weeping door slowly unbent as the gasses dissipated, only for it to be rebent as something heavy made contact. There was a thump and wet slapping before it finally opened fully. Centorea filled the door frame.
"What. . .MMMRRRUUUUUUP. . .can I. . .BBLLLRRRUUUAAAPP. . .do?" She asked, not caring to cover her belches. The wind from her mouth helped to clear out a bit of the gas that lingered from her titanic toots. However, nothing could fix the horrendous smell. Centorea stank. Her various rolls and folds were factories for sweat and body odor. Her white top was stained by the constant flood of perspiration pouring between her massive tits as well as from deep within her armpit-wellspring. "I'm. . .uuuhhf. . .just a. . .smelly horse." Centorea had to wheeze the words out from fattened lips and cheeks that constantly fought each other for space. To make her point, a gigantic leg stamped twice; signaling another release of ass gasses. The nearly immobile horse was a tanker of awful smells and putrid liquids that never emptied.
"Yes you can!" Miia slapped her tail on the ground in frustration. "Just stop farting!" She pleaded, pinching her nose in a vain attempt to block the nasal assault. It did no good.
"No. . .uuuurrrggh. . ." BBBBRRRRMPPPRT-FFRRT-FFFRRT! Centorea grunted, pushing the gas out by choice. "I cant. My tummy hurts." She grasped her human stomach, which was wide and fat enough to fill the trunk of a sedan. Though, Miia was unsure if the unruly housemember meant her human or horse stomach. For its part, Centorea's horse stomach filled all of the space between her pillar like legs. It drug along the ground, covered with mud and straw from her most recent roll in the barn. Cursed to be part animal, Centorea had made herself look and smell like she had just crawled out from the deepest depths of an industrial swine farm. As heavy as a military tank, the centaur lumbered about the house, dousing everything in her pungent fumes and sweat. "Too. . .uuurrggh. . .mush. . .cake." her horsey asscheeks clapped and slapped together as she renewed the sweltering stink in the domicile.
"Cake? Please no, that always. . ." She was cut off by the biggest explosion yet. FFFRRRRMMMMMMMPPPLLLLTTTT-BBB4RRMMPPTTT. The thin lamia could hear Centorea's fart change pitch and depth as it was unleashed. How something as innocuous as cake could lead to such an olfactory disaster was beyond Miia. Judging only by the smell and power of the horse's farts, it would seem like she had only eaten raw garbage.
"Gotta. . .feed. . .myself. . .something." Centorea huffed, indignant at Miia's complaints. She might have said more, but a gurgle of hunger sounded. The obese half-human was adept enough in her slobby gluttony to understand what different gurgle meant. While still sick from the pounds of cake she had eaten, she was still more than hungry for other things. The whole world was open to her now for eating. Veggies had been fine when Centorea had been thin and full of self-confidence. Now, with her spirit broken and body turned to mush, she ate anything. "Cake. . .fffuuh. . .for thuh. . .stinky horse." Centorea groaned as she started to push her station wagon sized mass through the door. Over and over again the government had widened and mutilated the house to try and accommodate her, but they could not keep up.
Miia slithered backwards, ruined shirt clutched to her chest in worry. It was unbelievable to see the blobby centaur move. She rolled back and forth, rolls on both her human and horse halves squelching and leaking grease and grime. Centorea's once proud and noble face looked tired and despondent. She wanted to eat, fart, and get fucked on occasion with nothing else appealing to her. Her breasts flowed out from her ruined top, the formerly pristine fabric turned a murky yellowish-gray. Her arms, as big around as many bodybuilders thighs, pressed against the walls to help force her mass into the hall. She huffed and puffed, gasping and choking on her own ass-fumes. Her muscles having long since atrophied, there was little besides her own willpower to keep her going. "Uuuugggh. . .ggrrrraaah!" FRRRRUUUMMPPTTTTH! Farts and clouds of gas exploded out of the back of her as she strained her morbidly obese form.
A trail of sweat was left by her passing. Her dragging horse-gut left grease and grime. Slowly she passed through the door, almost pushed along by her rear end expulsions. In the hall, Centorea smelled all the worse. It was a barnyard come to life. When smelling her now, Miia realized how wrong she had been to tease her roommate. She hadn't realized how much worse it could possibly get. Centorea slowly lumbered out of her room, filling the hallway. She lurched towards the kitchen. Hips and asscheeks that could be used as triple-person-beanbags sloshed and bumped against the walls. The lamia gaped at the behemoth of filth for a moment. Yet, she was unwilling to give up the battle. "You still have to pay me for the shirts! I can't wear things that smell like horse butt!"
Miia crossed her arms and pouted, waiting for a response. All together too late she realized the danger she was in. Centorea lifted up her tail and. . .BBBBRRRRRMMMMPPPTTTTFFFRRRTTT!
