As the sun began its descent below the horizon a fox hopped the fence of a run down farm, an empty burlap sack slung over his shoulder. He pushed through the stalks and entered the cornfield, venturing deep within it to hide his crimes. Despite going out of his way to be sneaky he was spotted by Pumpkin Jack, the owner of the property, as he patrolled his fields. Jack was a humanoid pumpkin-man, a farmer dressed in old patchwork clothes and a straw hat, with a jack o’lantern for a head and an orange body to match it. He was filled with anger at the sight of the intruder, his candle-lit eyes flickering as he watched from afar. Jack pursued the fox, tailing him through the corn to hide his presence.

        Oliver chose a spot and began picking the corn stalks clean. He loaded the ears into his sack, intent on filling it to its capacity. Jack snapped when he saw him carelessly tearing up his crops. He lowered his brow and approached Oliver from behind while he was busy stealing. Before he noticed him Jack grabbed the fox’s shoulder and the vines from his arm extended, coiling around the appendage. Oliver gasped, jumping up while turning his head. His eyes made contact with Jack’s and he was filled with fear, but was too tangled up to run.

        “I don’t enjoy finding thieves on my farm.” Jack said, squinting at Oliver. “However… I will enjoy punishing you.” Oliver’s eyes went wide at the threat and he broke into panicked struggles, trying in vain to pry the vines from his arm. Jack’s jagged mouth curled into a smile as he watched and laughed.

        As Oliver failed to free himself, Jack manipulated the vines to spread until they wrapped themselves around every inch of his body. The fox grunted as he fought for control of his limbs, rapidly losing mobility until he was held up only by the hand gripping his shoulder.

        With enough force to bruise his knees, Jack shoved the thief to the ground, releasing his grip but leaving behind the tangled mess of vines that he was trapped in.

        “L-Let me go! You can’t do this!” Oliver pleaded, gritting his teeth as he struggled against the greenery. Jack grabbed the fox by his snout and clasped it shut, silencing him.

        “I will do as I please.” He said in a low voice, extending a single vine to tie his snout closed. Oliver whimpered, feeling helpless. 

        Without another word, Jack began his revenge. He faced away from the fox and took a wide stance, showing off his ass about a foot away from his face. Even filtered through the patchwork trousers he wore, the sour and musky stench of ass sweat hit Oliver in the face, bringing water to his eyes. Jack took a step back and pressed his clothed ass to the fox’s snout, the fabric damp with sweat and long overdue for a wash. He groaned and let out a whimper as the awful smell flooded his nose and filled him with nausea. The jack o’lantern smiled as he watched from over his shoulder.

        Jack reached back and grabbed a handful of the fox’s hair, using it to crane his head back so he faced the sky. He took a seat upon the newly created chair with glee, while the chair struggled fiercely beneath him. Oliver squirmed and bucked while letting out muffled screams, unable to protect his nose or even to speak. He was helpless while being forced to huff Jack’s ass, a degrading and humiliating act.

	In a reverberating blast Jack unleashed a hellish fart, his ass vibrating as it belched a sickly green fog into the fox's face. His nose was flooded with the rotten-smelling gas and he gagged in visceral disgust. His lungs burned as they filled with the pungent fumes, reeking of rotten vegetables and sulfur. Jack sighed in relief, then let loose a second fart that warmed his captive's face and made him feel ill.

	Oliver retched violently, the awful stench growing worse with each fart. There was no ventilation beneath his ass, which meant all the foul smells accumulated around the fox’s nose. Were his mouth not bound shut and trapped beneath the gassy pumpkin's ass, he would have been begging for mercy. With bloodshot and tear-filled eyes, he looked up at Jack, and the farmer stared back with an amused grin.

	"Sleep tight, fox." He said, maintaining eye contact as a third fart rumbled out of his plump ass. Oliver's head vanished in an opaque plume as a wave of flatulence rushed over him, his eyes going unfocused as he choked and gagged on the tainted air. He flexed his arms and legs and twitched violently, barely clinging to consciousness but desperate to escape the smell nonetheless. His nose burned and numbness overtook it, which then slowly spread across his entire body. His eyes rolled into his head until only the whites of them were visible, and his body went limp.

	Jack smirked to himself as he watched his victim squirm and gag on his farts, then finally fall unconscious. Once he was out cold, he peeled his butt from the fox’s face, his fur now damp with sweat from his worn-out trousers. The vines that held him loosened their grip and retreated into the ground, allowing him to collapse.

	Jack lifted the fox and carried him over his shoulder, pushing through the corn as he hauled him to his barn. The two arrived after a short walk, and Jack took them into the decrepit building. The unlit interior was thick with the smell of mildew, and the floor was nothing more than packed dirt. He took his captive into one of the many stalls and dropped him atop a pile of straw. He then left to fetch some rope, confident he would still be asleep when he returned. When he did, he hogtied him, leaving him laying on his stomach and completely helpless. Satisfied, Jack dusted his hands off and left the barn, returning to the duty of keeping his crops free of pests.


* * *


        Oliver groaned as he woke up, blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His arms and legs ached, and he soon realized that he was tied up with a rope. He instinctively pulled at it, trying to get his arms or legs free, but only succeeded in tiring himself out. He panted and laid his head against the floor, realizing what a mess he’d gotten himself into.
        It was difficult to keep track of the time. It felt like an eternity before Jack showed himself again, but in reality it was only a few hours. Oliver stirred from his rest to the sound of a creaking door and footsteps. He looked up to find the barn flooded with moonlight, the first time he’d been able to see properly since he’d been captured. Jack entered the stall with a grin on his face, and he sauntered over to the fox. Oliver reacted with panic, squirming pitifully while moving nowhere, only to be stopped when Jack’s hand gripped him.

        “Did you miss me?” Jack asked, letting out a cackle. He grabbed Oliver’s leg and dragged him out of the stall flopping around like a fish out of water, desperate to escape the impending torture. He took him to a clearing in the center of the barn where he dropped him face down onto a bale of hay that was about waist-high, his head dangling off the edge with no way for him to protect it.
 
	“P-Please, just let me go. I’ll never steal again! D-Don’t do this to me!” The fox pleaded, his voice trembling.

        “No more begging out of you. You’ll suffer this punishment whether you want to or not.” Jack said, his voice firm. Oliver whimpered.

	Jack positioned his butt in front of his face and untied his pants, allowing them to drop to his ankles. In doing so he revealed his malodorous ass, identical in color to his pumpkin head. It dripped with sweat from a day filled with walking and hard work, and the pungent musky aura that floated around it made Oliver want to puke. Without another word, Jack shoved his hips back and crammed the fox’s snout between his asscheeks, drawing out a tortured and frustrated groan. Being buried beneath the jack o'lantern’s bare ass was even worse than being trapped beneath his unwashed pants; the warm mounds of flesh drenched him in smelly buttsweat, while the fabric only left his face damp.

	Jack’s stomach gave a gurgle and he lifted a leg up, reaching back to hold Oliver’s face deep in his ass as he ripped a bassy fart onto it. The fox’s body tensed and he jerked around in his binds, gagging on the foul stench as his nose was hosed down with pure methane. The trumpet-like sound of the emission reverberated throughout the barn, resulting in a loud and disgusting racket that almost covered up the sounds of torture the fox made. Oliver flattened his ears as he was forced to endure the smell, presented with no other choice than to breathe in the farmer’s farts or suffocate.

	Though Oliver couldn’t see it, Jack’s cock rose to full length and twitched in the stale barn air. He wrapped his free hand around it and worked the length over with a soft moan. Filled with arousal, he pushed the torture further, emptying a high volume blast of methane and filling the entire building with the stench of rotten eggs. His cock twitched in his hand as he heard the fox wheezing behind him, the vulpine struggling to keep up with the constant smelly assault on his nose.

	Jack was inevitably caught in the growing cloud of his own stench, prompting him to sniff the air with curiosity. He enjoyed its foul smell, unbothered by the stench of his own brand. “Phew! That’s rotten. I can’t imagine what it’s like with a sniffer like yours!” He exclaimed, chortling with laughter as Oliver retched. 

	“Nnff… Aaah~” Jack sighed, a silent and burning hot fart hissing from his ass. The extra-humid smog poured over his face, its rank stench seeping into his fur and burning his eyes like he’d gotten hot sauce into them.

	The situation was beyond torturous, and he saw no escape. His body filled with panic at the realization, and he feared he might go insane were he forced to endure any more awful smells. The strength was sapped from his muscles but he squirmed anyway, gritting his teeth as he drew in ragged breaths. The pitiful resistance he put forward only aroused Jack more, pushing him closer to the edge. Finally, the jack o’lantern’s jaw dropped, mouth agape as his cock spasmed and his body was flooded with orgasmic pleasure. He forced out a short series of bubbly farts as he climaxed, the sudden burst of stink sending Oliver into a fit of violent coughing as his captor finished himself off. Jack moaned out and passionately pumped his cock, emptying his balls in half a dozen thick ropes of spunk. His load soaked into the dirt floor, and he wiped his cock clean with the inside of his shirt. 

	Jack panted heavily, and the barn fell silent apart from Oliver’s tortured whimpers and whines. He let go of the fox’s head and stepped away, allowing him to gasp and sputter for air that wasn’t filtered through an unwashed butt. 

	“Not too bad. I could get used to having you around.” Jack said. Oliver swallowed nervously, looking up at his captor with fear. “That’s right, you heard me. You didn’t think you were getting away after just a little hazing like that, did you? Hahahah!”

	The fox’s stomach dropped as any hope for mercy was crushed before his eyes. He went quiet, and Jack laughed again. He picked his prisoner up from the bale and tossed him back into his stall, then took a lantern from the wall and lit it before leaving. Oliver was right where he started, only now the atmosphere of the barn was muggy, hot, and more than a little smelly. He sighed in exhaustion.


* * *


        For the next two weeks, Oliver suffered brutal tortures similar to the ones he’d experienced thus far. Jack forced him to soak up his rancid flatus on a daily basis, taking great pleasure from each night he parked himself atop the fox’s face and ripped ass. Every night the barn grew smellier and smellier, until the interior was identical to a sauna in terms of temperature and humidity. Everything inside was tainted with the awful sulfuric stench of farts; much of the wood of the building marinated in and soaked the stink up, as did all the furniture and hay bales, rendering the smell inescapable. It served as a constant reminder of what awaited his nose every day so long as he remained locked up.

        On one of these nights, Oliver was presented with an opportunity. The sun had just set and he was expecting a nightly visit from Jack soon. Jack hadn’t bothered to replace the ancient rope he used to tie Oliver up, and despite being thick the frequent use it saw wore the fibers down until they were brittle. Oliver noticed the gradual change as it neared its breaking point, his bindings gaining a little more flexibility as their fibers threatened to snap. He realized this and mustered up all his strength, then strained against the rope until it tore at its weakest point and fell loose. With a sigh of relief, he was allowed to sit up and stretch his limbs out once again.

        He took a moment to catch his breath and then stood up. Not wanting to waste any more time, he walked out of the stall and used his hands to navigate his dark surroundings, travelling along the wall in search of an exit. He found several doors, all of which were locked tight with chains and padlocks which were beyond his means to open. He cursed under his breath while looking around for another idea. From across the barn a sliver of moonlight was visible, shining through a gap between two loose wall boards. Oliver hurried to it and peeked outside, seeing only the familiar corn fields that he was captured in. He then grabbed one of the sides and pulled hard, planting his foot against the wall to gain leverage. He grunted and managed to tear the plank free, creating a small opening. Thanks to his lithe vulpine build he squeezed through it with ease.

        Once on the other side, the fox stumbled to his feet and brushed the dust from himself. Only moments after he escaped the barn, he heard a rustling from the fields in front of him. Jack emerged seconds later, lantern held high. He spotted the fox immediately, his carved eyes growing wide with bewilderment.

        “You! Thief! You won’t get away!” He spat. Oliver didn’t wait, darting off and vanishing into the nearest field. Jack followed shortly behind him; while not as quick, he knew his property like the back of his hand, and he navigated in a manner that confused and misled the fox.

        Oliver’s mind raced while he ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest. Despite his best efforts to run in a straight line he lost track of where he was and found himself without a clue. As he entered a small clearing in the field he slowed to a walk, then came to a complete stop, unsure if he’d eluded his pursuer. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily to help recover from his exertion.

        Jack spotted Oliver in the distance and crept closer to him, careful not to alert him by making too much noise. Once he was within a few yards he outstretched an arm toward him and threw a thick vine forth, the length wrapping around the fox’s ankle. With a swift backward jerk of his arm, Jack took Oliver’s foot out from beneath him and sent him face-first into the dirt. The jack o’lantern stomped over to the winded fox, grabbing and lifting him by the back of his shirt.

        “You’re a slippery one, ain't you?” He asked. “No matter. I’ll just dispose of you now and be done with your shenanigans.” Oliver’s face sunk and he scrambled to get away, but was unable to break from his fierce grip.

        Jack threw the fox back into the dirt, eliciting a pained grunt from him. He gave him a shove with his boot to roll him onto his back, then planted his feet on either side of his head. He set his lantern on the ground, then lowered his trousers to his knees.

        “N-No, not again! No!” Oliver cried out, his plea cut short as Jack squatted down and dropped his bare ass on his face. Though the smell of his sweat-soaked butt was torture in its own right, the farmer had an even more nauseating punishment in mind. He reached down and took hold of the fox’s chin, then yanked down to force his maw open. As he did so he pushed down with his ass, removing his ability to close his mouth. Oliver’s eyes went wide and he let out muffled screams of panic, realizing his fate. Jack laughed, allowing him a few seconds to enjoy the taste of his ass.

        The pumpkin’s gut rumbled and Oliver thrashed wildly beneath him. A wet and bubbly fart sputtered out of him, the sound muffled from beneath his heavy butt. The fox let out a disgusted groan and tensed up as his cheeks inflated with toxic gas, having caught the entirety of the fart in his mouth. His tongue burned with the taste of Jack’s gas as it blew across every one of his taste buds and down his throat. Much of the excess gas in his mouth escaped out through his nose in the form of twin green smoke stacks that rose from each of his nostrils. His entire respiratory tract was soaked in the sulfuric smell, not to mention the inside of his mouth, which quickly dried out as it was flooded with fresh fart gas.

        Oliver looked up at Jack with bloodshot eyes, hardly able to see through the tears. He pleaded in vain as the jack o’lantern cut another steamy fart into his mouth, stopping his muffled begging short and drawing out a guttural retch from him. He laughed at the reaction, then provoked several moments of dry heaving by forcing him to swallow it.

        “That’s right. Suck ‘em up and swallow all of them. I’m going to fill your stomach up with every ounce of stink I’ve got.” Jack said, his voice dripping with sadistic arousal. Oliver feared he may puke, his gut bubbling and churning with nausea from the toxic fumes he was forced to taste. He took on a dizzy look, his eyes drifting apart and becoming unfocused as he struggled to handle the torture.

        The overwhelming amount of methane that flooded the air displaced all of the oxygen, leaving none left for him to take in. The effects of this deprivation were slight at first, but caught up with him eventually. After two or three minutes of being forced to gulp down the farmer’s farts, his eyes went unfocused and his cheeks turned a light shade of blue. He grabbed at Jack’s legs, digging his fingers into them as he fought with all his strength for fresh air. Even with a final burst of energy he wasn’t able to dislodge Jack, who relentlessly ripped ass down his gullet the entire struggle.

        The smell, the taste, and the lightheadedness they caused were all too much. Oliver’s arms fell to his sides and his constant squirming was replaced with violent, erratic twitches. He breathed slowly, taking in lungfuls of pure fart fumes without a trace of oxygen in them. Every cell in his body screamed out for air, burning with pain or simply going numb. Despite filtering gallons of “air” through his lungs, he simply didn’t have enough fuel in his tank to keep going, and methane did nothing to help him oxygenate. The blue in his cheeks darkened to purple and he went limp, completely still as Jack let loose one final noisy fart past his lips.

	As the jack o’lantern stood up from his squat a concentrated mouthful of gas was released, floating into the air and polluting it with its stench. The introduction of his flatus to the plants was catastrophic, but only in the immediate area around him. Several corn stalks shriveled and drooped, dried out and thoroughly dead from the smell of Jack’s gas.

	Jack waved a hand behind his ass, then pulled his pants back up and refastened them. “No good thief… I suppose the mortician will see to what’s left of you now.” He muttered to himself. He picked his lantern up from the dirt with one hand, then took up the lifeless fox’s ankle in his other. He began the tedious process of transporting him away to be disposed of, dragging him unceremoniously through the field as he’d done to countless other trespassers in the past.