The dragon had finally managed to do it; months upon months of work, all condensed into one tiny glass vial. It didn’t seem all that impressive, but the amber liquid inside was a remarkable feat. Sydney, a tall dragon boasting pure white scales, tipped with a vibrant cyan in several places, carefully removed his handiwork from the centrifuge, bringing the potion up close to stare lustfully into the concoction. The potion meant power, all he could ever want. His heart pounded in his chest at the mere prospect of what he had achieved. All he needed to achieve the strength that the potion could unlock, was an unwilling assistant, and luckily he had just that. 

Sydney moved to the other side of the room, his thick, scaled tail whipping through the air as excitement coursed through his body. In the corner was a metal table, bolted firmly to the floor. Strapped to it was a skunk with three tails - given that they were prehensile, the dragon had ensured that even they were strapped in place. Thick leather was used, with no hopes of being broken or wriggled loose from. That didn’t stop the skunk from trying though, as he frantically wriggled and squirmed upon seeing Sydney approach. Most of it was down to the already intimidating form Sydney possessed, he was a dragon afterall. He was firmly built, the muscle-mass of his body easily visible even through his jeans and long-sleeved shirt, and he towered in height. A wicked grin flicked across his face, and the skunk knew he was in trouble.

“Stripes,” he suddenly spoke, a commanding voice booming towards the skunk, who cowered upon hearing his name. It was more of a nickname, given the pattern of his fur. “Don’t look so worried, you should be feeling happy, happy for me. I’ve finally achieved it!” Sydney stuck to pronouns for now, wanting to tease the skunk and let his mind run mad with thoughts as to what the dragon had planned. He slowly raised the liquid filled vial and tapped the side, watching the amber fluid ripple. The look in the dragon’s cyan eyes was intense, blazing out in his sockets like the eyes of a feral dragon who’d just seen gold. A look like that was enough to make anyone cower, even Stripes. The skunk was used to being on top, so to speak, and so he utterly despised the situation he’d found himself in, stuck on some mad man’s table. His three bound tails twitched, but failed to budge an inch. A muffled grumble escaped Stripes' maw, for a leather gag sat within. Sydney rolled his eyes and promptly removed it. 

“BLAH! Let me go. I want no part in your fiendish schemes!” Stripes exclaimed in uproar. 
“Exactly. That’s why you’re so valuable to me. Such a stubborn attitude, always used to being top dog. The perfect mind-set for what I need.” the dragon hissed, tail snaking up onto the table to idly toy with Stripes' bound legs. He always enjoyed toying with people.
“You don’t make sense. What do you want? To fulfil your sick, sadistic desires?” Stripes asked, baring his teeth. Sydney returned the gesture, only his were much, much sharper.
“Sadism? No..” he muttered, gently uncorking his eldritch elixir. “Megalomania.” He let the word roll off the tongue like it was the most erotic thing he’d ever said. He revelled in the sound of the word, displaying his excitement with a deep breath followed by a slow exhale, almost like he was savouring the ‘taste’ of it. 

Sydney extended his firm, muscled arm forwards, letting a waft of his potion fill the skunk’s nostrils. “Smell that? The smell of power. So utterly, utterly delightful, is it not?” the dragon cooed, quite aroused by the overwhelming joy of success.
“Power?” Stripes asked, quite sure the dragon had lost his mind.
“Yes..~” he hissed out, standing tall at the bottom of the table. “You see, my quadrupedal, feral brethren have always towered above dragons like myself, we who are dubbed ‘false dragons’. But with this potion, I shall hear no more words of the kind. Instead, I will be feared by people like you, and revered by the beastly drakes who have spent too long enjoying a superior status.” Sydney slowly explained, basking in each and every word as he said it aloud. His plan had spent so long locked away in his head, to the point where letting the outside world observe his words was an immense relief.

Stripes, meanwhile, wasn’t convinced: “So all this, because of a size issue?”
“Hush now, we wouldn’t want to waste that breath of yours. After all, you small, insignificant skunks have such small lungs.” Sydney grinned, displaying a full set of sharp, draconic fangs. 
“..What does that have to do with anything? You have well and truly gone mad..” The skunk concluded, gulping as a ball of nervousness swelled in his throat. If Sydney had lost the plot, that surely meant that he was without sensible limits, and Stripes was unlikely to be safe from him. He could only hope that a small amount of humanity still remained inside the dragon’s head. 

“It has everything to do with my plan, skunk. Do pay attention.” he said with an imperative tone. He quickly grabbed various pieces of equipment as he spoke. First to be placed on the table was a strange, balled up piece of cloth. Stripes instantly recognised the material, as it was something he’d helped Sydney with before he went mad. It was a fabric that could stretch to immense sizes with minimal tearing. Of course, they hadn’t managed to perfect it before the skunk ended up strapped to a table. The dragon also got himself a small glass, it being engraved with grandoise designs - the type of glass you’d drink a fine whisky from. “If people aren’t mocking our size, or our inability to breathe fire, it’s always the same thing.” Syd explained, tapping Stripes' thigh with the sharpened spike of his tail. 

“Wait.. Farts?” 

The word ‘farts’ seemed entirely out of place in a diabolical situation like the one Stripes had found himself in, but given the context it made perfect sense. Bipedal, anthropomorphic dragons were a smaller, wingless species of your average dragon - the type that tower above all else and scorch the skies with other-worldy fire. Bipedal dragons shared a few characteristics with their beastly brethren - Fangs, tails, scales, spikes, an immunity to fire, but most curiously, a secondary stomach that mainly existed to produce the volatile gasses that a feral dragon would use to ‘breathe fire’. Only, that secondary stomach was the only biological component of that particular defense mechanism that bipedal dragons possessed. They lacked the glands in their mouths to secrete the substance, so the huge volumes of gas went unused. Not only that, but it also lacked the flammable trait that made it so deadly.

In order to dispose of the copious amounts of the gas they produced, the secondary stomach of a bipedal dragon forced the mostly harmless gas through the rest of their digestive system. Instead of coming out the top end, it came out the bottom - in the form of farts. The gas produced absolutely reeked, but also came out in such high volumes that it was literally impossible for a bipedal dragon to fart quietly. Each one was loud, bombastic, and wretchedly obnoxious.  Their unusual talent had earned them a reputation for it, even more than skunks, and it was hard for a dragon to go a day without hearing some crude fart joke, or suffer a bout of humiliation as a thundering explosion erupted from their backside at the worst possible moment. Sydney was no exception to this, the muscular dragon was known for producing rip-roaring farts that were powerful enough to shake glass. However, he had plans to use his obnoxious flatulence in his schemes for power - the irony of it was mostly what Sydney was most excited about.

“Yes, farts. More specifically, MY farts. You’ve been around me enough to know just how awful they are.” Sydney grinned, on the verge of just breaking down into an evil cackle. Stripes glared at the dragon, confused by what he was planning, but knowing it wouldn’t be nice for his olfactory system. He still remembered the time him and the dragon were in a sealed oxygen-tent, working on a highly sensitive potion. Lost in his concentration, Sydney had farted, letting out a rancid, bubbly ripper that lasted for eight seconds. The dragon’s farts were especially wet that day, so it had sounded like he’d farted in the bathtub, only much bassier. Each popping bubble had his plump, scaled cheeks wobbling together and the force of it reverberated through the air and shook a few test tubes, causing some chemicals to spill. It was bad enough to raise the temperature in the tent several degrees, and the raunchy, humid air that was created as a result had Stripes quickly evacuating. 

That was only one of many incidents involving Sydney and his flatulent ass. It was a shame - Given the dragon’s built, attractive figure naturally a plump, delicious set of asscheeks sat at the top of his thighs, but the near-constant rumbling coming from between them was a deal-breaker for most people. It was why dragons rarely indulged in sexual interactions with other species. Of course, that didn’t account for many who had fart fetishes, and purposely seeked out the infamously gassy butts of dragons to fulfill their perverse desires. Stripes was no such individual, so he wasn’t ‘lucky’ to be at the mercy of Sydney and his tushy at all. 

“I.. I don’t understand..” Stripes said, shaking his head to distract himself from all the memories he was recalling of dragon-farts. “What do your farts have to do with anything? Have to do with ME?!” The skunk was demanding answers at this point, he’d had enough.
“My farts are the key to my power, don’t you get it?!” Sydney cackled, shooting a wicked grin Stripes' way. “Did you not wonder what strange creation we spent all these months making? A strange potion, but a potent one. A liquid that creates power in the presence of mortal suffering.” he finally explained, sniffing the fumes oozing from the vial’s opening.
“S-suffering?” the skunk stuttered, “You’re going to torture me?”
“Yes..~ With my farts. I added a few extra ingredients, a little something to enhance my gaseous capabilities. Ironic, isn’t it? My biggest hinderance shall now make me so wonderfully powerful. My ass is going to make you suffer, skunk. Each and every fart you choke on will make me bigger and stronger. Soon, even the fabled feral dragons shall bow to me.”

Stripes was utterly horrified - he had no doubts that Sydney has lost his mind, clearly stricken with madness caused by years of social torment. But the skunk also had no doubts that the dragon was serious, which was why when Syd began to pour the vial into his luxurious glass, the three-tailed mephite shouted, begging him not to.
“You can’t do this! Please.. Just let me go!” he pleaded, tugging on his restraints more desperately than before. “This isn’t right!”
“Hush now, save all that delicious energy of yours for me, fart-slave.” That final word rung in Stripes' ears like a gunshot, knowing that it meant his fate was truly sealed. He watched, unable to do anything but feebly wiggle and squirm on the table as Sydney slowly began to gulp down the potion. He took a few sips and paused, shooting a smirk towards the skunk. “Delicious. Just think, with every sip my farts are going to get worse and worse. With every sip, you shall become weaker, and I, stronger.” He let that sit for a few moments before continuing, carefully sipping a few more mouthfuls. “Are you excited to be subjected to my gas, Stripes? You should feel honored, these may just be the most powerful farts in the world.”

Sydney was relishing the rush of power he had, wanting to drag each and every moment out as long as possible in order to savour it, just like he was the taste of his crooked-concoction. 
“Sydney, come on! I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you, but you needn’t blame me for it!”
“Blame you for it? I couldn’t care less about you, skunk. Do you not listen? You are merely here to smell my farts, and feed the power of your new master. Just think, you only exist to suffer under the ass of a dragon. What a miserable existence that must be.” Syd hissed, loving the power and newfound superiority he had over the mephit. 

He finished the last of the potion, staring Stripes dead in the eyes as he finished it. He gently placed the glass down and smiled, smacking his lips in satisfaction. The skunk trembled, wanting nothing more than to retreat inside himself and escape the madness of Sydney. But he couldn’t - he was powerless, and Sydney was powerful. 
“It’s time, fartslave. Help me become powerful; will you smell my farts, boy?” 
“...Fuck off!”
“Perfect.” Sydney effortlessly climbed onto the table, now appearing even taller as he looked down at Stripes. He swished his spiked tail with glee, slicing at the skunk’s restraints and tearing through the leather with ease. Before he could sit up though, his chest was immediately pinned by Sydney’s clawed left foot, digging in ever so slightly. 

“No restraints. I don’t need them. I am a superior being to you, fartslave. Stronger, better.. Remember that as you pathetically try and escape.” He left Stripes to dwell with those words as he slowly turned around, revealing his jean-clad ass. His thick, scaled tail slowly lifted, revealing the dragon’s backside in all its bubbly, firm glory. Had the situation not have been the current one, Stripes might have found it in himself to admire the view. But with all the current context, such a view was utterly horrifying. Even more so as it began its descent, edging closer and closer to the skunk’s nose. Sydney took his time, watching the skunk underneath him squirm and whimper. He hadn’t started to grow quite just yet, but he wanted to let Stripes know that even now, Sydney was stronger than him. 

“Take a good look. This ass is all you’re going to see for a long, long time.” With that, Sydney took his place on his throne, or rather, Stripes' face. The dragon shuddered with delight as he felt the mephit’s snout push up into his butt, slipping snugly into the seam of his jeans, the only thing preventing his nose from going all the way between those smooth, scaled cheeks. Sydney’s bum was soft, and nicely cushioned by the perfect combination of fat and muscle - firm enough that it wasn’t saggy, and plump enough that it wasn’t bony. It was like Stripes had gotten two giant water balloons and smushed them against his face, only if they were much warmer and absolutely reeked of ass. Sydney sat there for a moment, gently wiggling his backside and rubbing it all over the skunk’s face. Each little wiggle had a faint wobble travelling through those cheeks, a display to show just how big Sydney’s ass was. It was so wide that Stripes could see nothing beyond the dragon’s buttocks, a true testament to just how much his world was now dominated by Sydney and his flatulent rump.

“You are weak, and because of that you’re going to be sniffing my farts. Every last one of them. I’m going to shake your skull with the power of my ass, I’m going to ruin your face with it!” Sydney jeered, tongue flopping out of his mouth as he slowly grinded his ass downwards, pressing the rough material of his jeans to the skunk’s nose. His butt was rarely ever touched by anyone else, so to have it rubbed all over someone’s face was an incredibly sensual experience to Sydney. He took his time, slowly absorbing everything as he savoured having Stripes whimper and cringe as his snout was nearly crushed between two scaley boulders. 

“Tell me how it feels, bitch.. Tell me how my ass feels as it crushes your little face!” Sydney demanded, tensing his cheeks to show off just how muscular they could be. Their shape turned round and solid, like two soccer balls squeezing the skunk’s snout. His face was wedged inside, to the point where every panicked breath Stripes took was amplified as all his air rushed out the dragon’s asscrack, making a gushing noise. Sydney utterly relished the feeling, the skunk’s hot breath on his tailhole making it twitch and wink in anticipation. The skunk tried to answer, but all he managed was a few muffled moans, mostly inaudible as the huge, fleshy mass that was Syd’s ass practically engulfed his face, separating it from the outside world. Instead, the only world Stripes had to worry about now, was the world of dragon farts. 

“What was that? You’ve got too much ass in your mouth, skunk! You shouldn’t eat with your mouthful. I think you need to be taught some manners.~” Sydney warned, his voice having a slight sing-song tone as the dragon was just bubbling with joy. A low, wet gurgle came from Sydney’s bowels, sounding much like someone blowing water into their drink with a straw. A huge amount of gas quickly started to enter his digestive system, the potion reacting quickly with his stomach. His scaled gut began to bloat slightly, becoming taut as it filled with noxious gas. Sydney grinned wickedly to himself, watching his stomach expand with what he believed to be ‘power’.

In a sense, it was power - powerful farts. Stripes wouldn’t have to wait a moment longer to experience them either. Another gurgle sounded from the dragon’s body up above, but that time it had felt much, much bassier. Sydney began to squirm and fidget atop his skunk-throne, feeling minor cramps as he was experiencing the start of a terrible fit of chronic flatulence. “Mrrrph.. Can you feel that? That power growing inside me, just begging to come out! I think it’s time, boy.” Sydney decided, announcing such seemingly in the most diabolical voice possible. His tail twitched, before slowly going stiff, giving full access to the tailhole that sat between his two blubbery moons. It clenched, being the only thing holding back an avalanche of bombastic farts. Stripes could feel it on his nose, growing warmer and warmer, until..

Brrrrrrfffpppppptttttttt!

The floodgates had been opened, giving way to an explosive gust of fetid bowel-wind that rushed out with enough force to shake Sydney’s entire ass! Both those cheeks flapped together, the fat inside them rippling. If anyone were to have recorded the dragon’s butt with a slow motion camera, they’d see each ripple travel through it with every ‘rrpt’ his fart made. The fart had reverberated through the air, sending powerful tingles down Stripes' nose. He cringed as his nostrils filled with burning hot gas, causing them to flare up in disgust. He had even felt the hot air blow against his face like summer wind that’d been through a sewage-treatment plant, and force his fur to go flat under the power of the breeze. With his face so far between those moons, the pressure of that fart had been painfully high as well, the gas having nowhere to go but either up Stripes' nose, or to ripple out the cleft of Syd’s ass. 

A steamy smog clinged to the skunk’s face, oozing from underneath the dragon’s buttocks. He wanted to gag, cough and throw Sydney off, but he could do neither. His only choice was to twitch and flinch as he suffered the wrath of a dragon with bad gas.
“How did that smell? How did it FEEL? That was the first of thousands, skunk. Just remember that.. This is never going to end for you. I want you to say it with me. Farts.. Farts! FARTS-FARTS-FARTS!” Sydney howled with laughter, swishing his thick, scaled tail through the air to waft some stink his way. He sniffed deep, sucking it up into his nose. He let it sit for a moment, burning away at his nostrils in the same way a food critic would let the taste of fine cuisine dwell on their tongue. Sydney didn’t care much for farts himself, he simply did it to spite Stripes even more. 

“Mm, how divine. You’re smelling the farts of your new GOD now, skunk! Have some enthusiasm!” Sydney grinned, buckling down and squeezing on his bloated stomach. It was hard to be enthusiastic about Sydney’s toxic farts, especially when his next one was so wet and sputtery that it nearly hurt Stripes' ears as the sheer force of it bounced around in his ear drums; ‘Frrrppptptptptptptptptptptpt!’ It finished with several bubbly pops, each one hotter and more humid than the last. Better yet, Syd could feel the skunk wince as his nose was assaulted each time. Any fidgets made by Stripes were easily felt by his draconic torturer, given that he had the skunk’s snout stuck so far up between his squishy asscheeks. If he winced, he’d feel the cool, damp surface of his nose press against his asshole, and if he squirmed he’d get a snout rubbing around back there. No matter what Stripes did, Sydney was going to love it. 

The skunk’s nostrils were numb at that point, but that didn’t make the smell any better, nor the power of the vibrations as they rippled through his bones. It simply meant that he couldn’t narrow his nostrils - they were stuck flared, giving easy access to wave after wave of stale fumes. A sudden ‘glorrrppp’ noise came from Sydney’s stomach and the dragon winced, leaning forward slightly. As he did so, the skunk was pulled with him, his furry face stuck up that ass so much he couldn’t pull it out. “Mmm, here comes the potion, skunk. These farts are going to smell glorious.”
“Mmmrrrrfff!”
He tried to protest, but it was far too late for that. Opening his mouth was the worse possible move. Sydney’s next fart came out so quickly that it took Stripes a moment to process the fact that his tongue was being dried out as hot, miasmic gases flowed into his open maw, forcing his cheeks to bulge out. The rip-roaring fart echoed inside, making his teeth chatter and his jawbone vibrate. ‘Bbrrrraaammppptttt!’. As soon as the eggy, noxious fart hit the skunk’s olfactory senses, Sydney was rewarded with a horrified scream that was muffled by his ass. He could feel the skunk retch and gag, truly suffering underneath him now. 

The potion’s effects had increased the potency and volume of the sadistic dragon’s butt-burps by a tenfold, making them so deadly that even another dragon would try and pinch their nose. Stripes didn’t have that luxury. It was hard to notice at first, given that he was too busy choking and recoiling on the obnoxiously loud farts shaking his skull, but Sydney had started to get a little heavy. It also looked like the dragon was now wearing skinny jeans, as opposed to the loose denim he had but moments ago. His shirt also grew tight, to the point where if he flexed it’d tear apart. Most importantly though, was the growth of Sydney’s ass.

Sure enough, as Stripes regretted ever signing up to do labwork more and more, Sydney gained power from his torment. He was beginning to grow atop the skunk’s face, causing the table to creak softly under the weight of them both. Before, anyone observing would still be able to see Stripes' ears, but Sydney’s bubblebutt had gotten so plump that most of the skunk’s face was lost between them. They completely cut off his perception of the outside world, covering over his ears so that all he could hear, feel and smell was farts. Farts were all he needed now as far as Sydney was concerned. Horrible though they may be, a dragon’s gasses were not harmful in a long lasting way, you could breathe in an atmosphere composed entirely of them - with much olfactory suffering, of course. 

“Mmm, feel me grow, skunk! Feel your new dragon master thrive at your own expense. Feel my ass, bitch,” Sydney snarled, teeth on display, looking more ravenous than before. He placed a hand gently on his two asscheeks, shuddering to himself as his digits sank into the plushy surface of them. Sydney groped and squeezed and played with his butt, in love with how big it had gotten. He gently pulled them apart, peeling the hot, musky surface of his scaled asscrack off of Stripes' face. Doing so had allowed some light to enter the crevice, giving the skunk another glimpse of Sydney’s tailhole. Much to his horror, it had gotten bigger than it was before, and far more plump. He knew having a bigger exit meant bigger farts; That was about to be affirmed as Sydney released his cheeks back against Stripes' snout, letting them slam together forcefully. 

‘Prrrbbbbbbbbtttttttt!’

With complete effortlessness Sydney released another thunderous fart, so much gas now gushing out that Stripes was overwhelmed. He coughed and heaved, body not sure how to cope as his lungs were instantly filled with virulent gasses. The dragon’s farts were now so hot that things became steamy between his two basketball-like asscheeks, causing both of them to sweat due to the heat. Being in high volumes also meant that any clean air in the immediate vicinity was quickly blown away, tainted with the power of the megalomaniac’s butt-rumblers. He was sitting in a festering cloud of his own gas, and he happily sniffed it in. Stripes was disgusted - how any living being could happily take in those smells was baffling. 

“Do you like them, skunky? They must smell so gooood!” he smirked, forcefully grinding his ass, rubbing that fart-fueled stench in the skunk’s fur. “Smelling the farts of a superior being - you don’t realise just how, nnnnrrgg - LUCKY - you are.” Sydney punctuated his point by forcing out a squeaky fart upon saying ‘lucky’, which sputtered on way past the finish of his sentence. For a mammoth, agonizing twelve seconds that fart blared out, cutting out all other noises. All Stripes had to focus on was the high-pitched squeak of gallons of gas exiting Sydney’s rear, blowing against his face and burning away at his eyes. They started to water, so he scrunched up his face in disgust, looking like he’d just taken a bite out of a sour lemon. In truth, that fart had been a little sour, given that it had been left to brew in Sydney’s bowels for quite a while. 

‘Ppppeeeeeeeeeerrppppppp-p-p-p-ptt.‘

Stripes wasn’t lucky, if anything, he was the unluckiest person in the world, stuck being a catalyst for the dragon’s mad desire for power. His body fell limp and he gave up squirming, the constant explosions of Sydney’s flatus smacking him in the face having drained him of energy. His entire body recoiled in disgust, wanting nothing more than to just pass out. Unfortunately, the dragon’s gaseous farts were such a shock to the body each and every time they bubbled against Stripes' face that passing out was impossible. He had no choice but to suffer, but to beg that something would save him from Sydney - All his begging got him was even more farts. 

Sydney never stopped growing, each rancid, soul-destroying fart fueling his growth more and more. His clothes reached their limits, unable to expand any more due to his massive, muscular form. He’d nearly doubled in size already, reaching over three metres in height, with poor Stripes' nose creaking in pain under all the weight that was put on it. Sydney’s ass was now so big that his cheeks devoured the skunk’s head, wrapping around his face and pressing against the table underneath him. His huge tail flicked above overhead, going stiff each time another fart rumbled out. By no means was Sydney just getting fat though - his growth was mostly normal tissue and muscle mass, so his ass retained that perfect, plump shape, looking like two plus-sized basketballs perched tightly on Stripes' face. 

Having such a gargantuan, glorious ass meant that Sydney’s farts had gotten even louder, the two plush moons acting to amplify the bassy, wet notes his asshole created. Without even grunting, pushing or putting much thought into it at all, Sydney let out a cascading miasma of fumes, a torrent of hot, raunchy air that hit Stripes with so much force if it weren’t for the table keeping him wedged between those cheeks, his face would’ve been blown outwards like a cannonball. The sheer lack of effort Sydney had to put in to squeeze farts from his bowels was probably the worst thing for the skunk. His draconic torturer was simply relaxing, enjoying the feel of Stripes' face up his ass. He was being so easily abused and tormented by such a simple act - it was humiliating!

‘BrrrrrrmmmmmmMMMFFFFPPPTTTTTTT!’

Sure enough, Syd’s new and improved giant ass had amplified his latest fart to such a level that the very walls of the room seemed to shake. The glass test-tubes shattered and the windows wobbled in their frames. The table below them threatened to break at any moment due to Sydney’s mass and Stripes' skull began to pulse with pain as the huge dragon now crushing his face was too heavy to bare. His clothes had started to rip, unable to handle the increase in size. The sound of ripping, stretching and tearing filled the skunk’s ears. Each and every thread of fabric seemed to rip individually, going so painstakingly slow that the skunk couldn’t bare it. 

The only thing stopping him from breaking down into tears was the thought of feeding Sydney with even more power. He wasn’t far off though - the hot, swampy nature of Sydney’s farts had his eyes stinging and streaming with tears, and the bassy, reverberating force of them was so abusive to his nose that it was leaking snot. Given the state that the fart-slave of a skunk was in, the dragon’s power was fueled all the more, growing to the point where his jeans began to split open. They ripped around his thick, chunky thighs, the sewing stretching and popping un-done. He now had a waistline of around thirty-six inches, which was impressive given that he still maintained a comparatively slim figure.

‘Rrrripppppp!’ ‘Sccccrrrrccchhh-pop!’

Sydney’s backside had gotten so big and mighty that his jeans could no longer contain it. They suddenly burst open, the denim tearing asunder under the sheer force of the dragon’s expanding cheeks. His buckle sprung out aswell, hitting the wall opposite. The material fell loose beside Stripes' head, followed shortly by Sydney’s shirt ripping in a few places. The sleeves were the first to go, being torn so loudly by his biceps that the skunk could hear it even through the muffling, boulderous size of the dragon’s tushy. Suddenly, Sydney slowly lifted, having to forcefully pluck Stripes' face out of his asscrack. He quickly threw his jeans to the side, smirking from ear to ear. 

“Like what you see, slave?”

With the jeans out the way, Stripes was greeted with the sight of Sydney’s ass in nothing but underwear - underwear currently stretched to their limits and hugging his ass so tightly that the skunk could see each and every little curve. The seam of them had even slipped between his cheeks, mostly due to the skunk’s invasive snout, which meant that Stripes got an idea of just now deep, cavernous and swampy the now towering dragon’s asscrack was. He could probably happily fit most of his arm up there, which was a worrying thought given that his face was about to get wedged back in there. 

Next, Sydney turned his attention attention to the scraps of shirt still clinging to his torso. He brought his arms together and flexed, his body tensing up and his scales turning solid. He howled with laughter at how powerful he felt as his shirt ripped across the back, revealing his broad shoulders. Little frayed bits of fabric fell to the floor as the shirt tore, falling loose around Sydney’s back. He then tensed his arms, now so thick that the sleeves just popped right off, the sewing in the seams ripping loose. He shook the useless shirt off, exposing his body in all its masculine glory. His growth hadn’t given him crazy muscles, it had merely amplified his form and made it look incredibly intimidating. Already, even at that size, Sydney’s presence demanded respect. Only one thing was more imposing than Sydney’s torso, and it was currently hovering above Stripes' face.

“Yes.. Yesss..~” Sydney hissed with delight, gently swaying his ass above the skunk’s already abused face. His fur had been completely flattened out, some of it even steaming with a visible, shimmering stench, now stuck into his skin courtesy of the dragon’s fumigating backside. “Watch me as I grow, bigger and bigger! Bask in my new glory, bitch, take it all in!” Sydney howled, suddenly bringing his ass crashing down. The force was enough to break the table legs, causing them to crack and buckle under the weight of the dragon. His growing mass shattered their support, and as the table fell, so did Stripes and the dragon sitting on his face.

Upon landing, the skunk’s face was immediately smacked back into Sydney’s crack once again, snout slipping inside like it was designed perfectly just to fit in there. Despite the depth Sydney’s ass now had, Stripes' nose could still easily reach the dragon’s pink, wrinkled tailhole, which was now the size of half of the mephit’s face. His nose pressed into the center of it, smushing into the fleshy threshold slightly. Any further and his face would slip inside. Luckily, he was able to stop that from happening by gripping onto Sydney’s cheeks. Upon doing so he realised just how large that ass had gotten - It was over three-quarters of a metre wide! He struggled to get a grip, and his fingers sunk into it like dough.

“Touching my wonderful posterior, are we? You’re not good enough to grope this ass, skunk.”

‘Frrpt’. ‘Brrrllt’ ‘BrrrmmpppfffffFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT!’

Three more farts were summoned by Sydney’s massive rear, the first being three seconds long, the second two, but the last one was easily the worst. It was like a tempest had been summoned between Sydney’s giant asscheeks, his tailhole yawning wide open above the skunk’s face to blast him with a concoction of hot, malignant farts that were so sulphuric it was unnatural. The force of it was God-like, so much gas rapidly billowing out that the walls rumbled and shook loose with dust and plaster, and the nearest window to Sydney immediately shattered. Glass littered the floor as that fart rumbled on, traumatising Stripes' skull with the force of it. 

His head went numb and his mind became dazed, lost in a fart-induced trance. He couldn’t process what had just happened, especially given the fact that by the time the fart ended, he had been blown out of Sydney’s musky, deep asscrack and thrown across the room. He lay in a furry pile of his own sweat and Syd’s ass-juices, gasping for air and looking like a scared dog. Sydney walked over, the tiles of the laboratory they were in cracking underneath him. He loomed over the skunk, now more than twice the height of him. He was around four metres tall, head pressed against the high ceiling of the lab. Scraps of clothing clinged to his body, and his underwear barely stayed in place. Even now, he continued to grow, body pulsing with power as he grew a few centimetres in height - mostly because a more rotten wisp of dragon-fart had emerged from Stripes' nose, and the skunk had landed forwards in a coughing fit. 

Sydney grinned, leaning down to grab the skunk by the scruff. Stripes' three tails fell limp and drooped underneath him, powerless to the dragon’s newfound might. 
“How do my farts smell, skunk? How do they feel as they shake your face and obliterate your nose?” Sydney teased, staring Stripes dead in the eye. The skunk cowered, wanting to just curl up and vanish from existence - but he couldn’t. Nothing he did seemed to ease the glaring pressure those vibrant, cyan eyes put on him. He began to realise just how pathetic he was. Sydney hadn’t really done anything, he simply sat on his face and farted, and farted, and farted.. But that was just it, Sydney’s farts were so foul, so violently powerful that the mephit couldn’t cope.
“P-please.. Just stop this..” Stripes wheezed, gagging as he realised his own breath was tainted with farts.

“I’m not done with you yet, skunk. Not. Even. Close.”