Originally a custom video commission, but the name has been edited out. Want a personal creation of your own? Get in touch! I love to make customs.  In the shadowy embrace of Camp Sylvan, where whispers of the wild mingle with the scent of pine, a blonde BBW camp counselor stands as a queen among men. Her long, wavy golden tresses cascade down her back, a stark contrast to her navy cotton fullback panties that cling to her like a second skin, highlighting her luscious, bountiful behind. This is no ordinary summer fling; this is an education in the art of perverse pleasure, and she's about to school a very lucky—or perhaps unfortunate—camper. The scene is set when the counselor finds the boy hiding in her cabin, a deer caught in the headlights of her overpowering sexuality. She approaches with a predatory grace, her laughter a harbinger of the debauchery to come. His fears are trivial to her—she has a much more salacious curriculum in mind. With a devilish glint in her eye, she mounts his face, her colossal ass swallowing his features in a sea of soft, supple flesh. The boy is about to learn a lesson he'll never forget, as she begins to release a barrage of farts. These are not mere whispers of wind; they are loud, plentiful, and so incredibly stinky that the air around them seems to curdle. Each fart is a declaration of her dominance, a potent reminder that she is in control of both their pleasures and his humiliation. She revels in the power she wields, her farts echoing through the cabin like a series of filthy exclamation points. The boy's senses are overwhelmed—the sound, the smell, the sheer presence of her body pressing down on him. She grinds against his face with a cruel rhythm, ensuring that he breathes in every foul exhalation, that he understands his place beneath her majestic rear. As she leans in close, her whispers are laced with wicked intent, detailing the taboo acts that will unfold under the cover of darkness. She promises to corrupt him, to make him yearn for the stench of her farts and the weight of her body on his. With each loud blast, she cements her control, her laughter a twisted lullaby that serenades their descent into depravity. But the lesson doesn't end there. Oh no, the counselor has a few more tricks up her sleeve. She laughs, asking what he thinks of her handiwork, and if it's perfect. The boy's response is priceless—she smells like waste, and she can't help but laugh at his naivety. She jokes about the itchiness, apologizing for not wiping properly, and teases him about needing a full lesson. And then, she starts farting again, the boy begging for mercy after just a couple of blasts. But the counselor is far from done. She points to a small stain on her butt, and the boy's curiosity gets the better of him. She smiles, saying it's the perfect time for the next lesson, and the camera cuts to a bench, where she's waiting for him. She points to some ants on the bench, asking if they scare him. The boy's response is a mixture of fear and fascination, and the counselor can barely contain her amusement. She teases him about being scared of bugs, and then, with a wicked grin, she crushes the ants (not shown, just pretend) beneath her massive rear, the sound of their tiny bodies crunching beneath her weight a testament to her power and control. This clip is a testament to the counselor's reign over Camp Sylvan, where the stink of her farts is the most potent aphrodisiac, and the feeling of her full weight on a boy's face is the ultimate lesson in submission. Join her in this filthy foray into the world of stinky domination, where innocence is lost, and the scent of power is as mesmerizing as the acts she commands.