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You're Not Packing Much in the Back, Either

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A fortunate soul resides in a fortunate body and a fortunate mind. Ichiko Sakura had everything down except for the mind. Her skin was smooth, her figure well-proportioned, with ample F-cup breasts that bounced underneath her bra in a way that was seductive rather than painful, and she could eat whatever she wanted and remain at a consistent weight. She considered the bathroom to be a place for gossip rather than anything personal. Her fortune had made it that using the toilet was a trivial task.

When Ichiko’s stomach felt full, she would go to the bathroom, sit down upon the pure white throne, and drop her panties to the floor. She didn’t need to strain or grunt or do anything unladylike. One flex of her butt muscles, and her anus opened up wide and did the rest of her work in one shot. Her clean-smelling excreta smoothly slid out of her bowels, landing in the toilet water with barely a sound. The area around her anus was left so clean she didn’t even need to wipe. Though it’s not something she would brag about, Ichiko had also never farted in her life. Everything about her took in energy with a maximum efficiency.

That’s what was written in the report Momiji sent back to the domain of the poverty gods. She had gathered all this data by standing around watching. Doing nothing was the safest thing to do around Ichiko, and Momiji was only half-interested in pursuing her anyway. Monitoring how she used the toilet was not something Momiji had wanted to do, but when she noticed Ichiko spending an unusually short amount of time in the bathroom, she had to investigate it. Everything would fall apart when Ichiko discovered the report strewn around the floor, hidden beneath a pile of old comics and weapons.

Ichiko opened up the folder, and a collection of photos of her on the toilet, from all angles, including one from the seat’s point of view, fell to the floor. Momiji picked up the images and held them between her fingers like a hand of playing cards. Her eyes burned with fury. She stomped around the house in search of Momiji, eager to strip off the poverty goddess’ panties and make her endure the same humiliation. It’s not like Momoji’s misfortune could get worse than it already was.

Momiji was resting on Ichiko’s bed. The fount of fortune stood over her own bed, glowering at the trespasser. “What are you doing with these pictures of my ass?” Ichiko said, “It is a perfectly smooth, plump ass, unlike that flat booty you laze about with, but that’s no reason to peek at it without my permission! You stupid poverty god!”

“I was examining the effects of fortune energy on your body,” said Momiji casually, “Have you ever had to desperately use the bathroom? Hold in a fart and hope that nobody hears it or worse, smells it? Had trouble squeezing out a large load after eating something filling, but loaded with calories? These are all things that normal people experience.”

“I use the toilet and don’t really think about it,” said Ichiko, “What’s wrong with that? All it means is that my body is in perfect health.” She placed her hands under her breasts and squeezed the two round, swelling masses of flesh together, juggling them in her palms, relentlessly teasing Momiji, “All the fat goes to my breasts. I can afford and eat whatever I want, so why shouldn’t I elegantly take a dump?”

Momiji threw off her upper layer of clothing, exposing her tattered, white underpants beneath her dress. “You’ve never known embarrassment, you fortune hog! Maybe it’s time you learned that even a perfect body like yours will let something slip sooner or later. All I need to do is take some of that fortune energy from you...”

“You’re not packing much in the back, either,” said Ichiko. “What a flat, boring ass. I can’t tell your front from your back.” Ichiko turned around and hiked up her skirt, exposing her lace-clad butt to Momiji. She slapped her hand on her butt cheek, which began jiggling before Momiji’s eyes. “You wish you had a rump like mine.”

Momiji removed the bandages from her arm. Her hand, pulsing with a dark aura of misfortune energy, united with her other arm to form a single, spear-like point with her index fingers. “Poverty God Kancho!” Momiji said. She poked her fingers into Ichiko’s panties, pushing the lace up to the edges of Ichiko’s anus.

Ichiko winced from the momentary burst of cold pain. A rush of adrenaline flowed through her body. She turned around, her eyes aflame, and set her sights on Momiji.

“Get out!” Ichiko grabbed Momiji by her shoulders and threw her out the window. Momiji landed in the river below, where she idly drifted down the stream. The cold water seeped into her underwear, exposing her slender body. Thoughts of Ichiko filled her head. She had just the thing for this sort of situation.

Momiji came ashore. Her clothes instantly dried off. She reached into her pocket and produced a new Poverty God Item. It was called the Undoshi, and at first glance appeared to be little more than a strip of cloth. Every fiber was coursing with misfortune energy, concentrating it on the spots where a fundoshi was likely to touch - the waist. Momiji snuck into Ichiko’s house while she was out buying herself dinner, and swapped the underwear Momiji would put on tomorrow with the Undoshi. It was easy to get out, for the hole Ichiko had thrown her thought was still there.

Ichiko wasn’t sure if she had gone out for her meal at the wrong place. The whole night, her stomach kept rumbling and her ass felt itchy. She cursed Momiji in her sleep. The place where her panties had rubbed up against her asshole still bristled with an unpleasant sensation. Ichiko hoped that her fortune energy would heal this irritation by morning.

Nothing had changed when she woke up. Not even the hot water could drown out the itching feeling on her ass. She got dressed for the day, sliding on her bra. Ichiko pushed her huge breasts upward and inward, feeling the weight of her bouncing boobs in her hands. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” she said. “Now, where did I put my panties?” She hadn’t had the house cleaned in a few days, and was running low on fresh underwear to put on. She found a fundoshi lying in her dresser drawer.

“I don’t think anyone will see this under my skirt,” she said. Ichiko wrapped the cloth around her waist, tucking it close to her labia. Much of her buttocks were exposed to the air of her apartment. It was a cold, breezy feeling that she wasn’t used to. The hairs near her anus twitched from the sensation. Ichiko scratched her butt, wondering if she had gotten bit by a mosquito, and continued on her way to school.

Momiji, in her spirit form, hovered overhead, watching Ichiko walk uncomfortably to school. She had a public persona to keep up, and the tension of maintaining it under mounting anal pressure was making her face contort into an expression not dissimilar to the one she held around Momiji herself. “I think my kancho might have worked,” Momiji said, “The Undoshi just makes sure her fortune energy doesn’t cancel it out. Maybe now you can learn what normal people have to go through, Tits-ko.”

Ichiko sat down at her desk, not paying much attention to the lesson. She would do well on the next test anyway, so she could use this class time for other things, like figuring out why her butt wouldn’t stop itching. Ichiko rocked awkwardly back and forth in her seat. Her buttocks were directly against the cold, wooden seat beneath her. The interplay of her warm ass and the chilly seat was making her anxious. Her asshole breathed in and out, gently waiting to release. Ichiko still felt the remnants of last night’s dinner moving around in her stomach. The food had been greasier than usual. Maybe she shouldn’t have splurged.

Ichiko felt a sudden burst of pressure up against her butthole. It didn’t feel like anything solid, but something wanted to push itself out. The teacher was continuing with the lecture, unaware of Ichiko’s predicament. She pushed her butt down into her chair, hoping to drown out what she couldn’t stop.

A wispy burst of foul-smelling gas issued from Ichiko’s anus onto the chair. A loud brrrrpt echoed from her rear, spreading out through the classroom. One of the girls in front of her turned around and gave Ichiko a disapproving look. She sniffed the air around her seat. “I know I put perfume on this morning. What is this smell? What was that sound? Don’t tell me... did I just fart?”

Ichiko wasn’t sure what to think. It smelled like last night’s dinner around her chair, but her belly felt lighter, and some of the itching sensation in her ass had vanished. She barely had time to process it before more pressure clogged up her bowels. Ichiko slid her ass around in her chair. The edge of her skirt caught on the back of her seat, exposing her panties to the back of the room. Everyone was back to focusing on the lesson, maybe they would ignore it. Ichiko hoped she could release another fart towards the back of the classroom, puffing it out the hole in her chair.

Her plush ass, hugged tightly by her white cloth, was scrunched up against the back of the chair. Ichiko’s breasts were resting on the desk, being pressed down onto the wood. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead. She rubbed her stomach, wanting to get this over with quickly. Her face felt hot, her body tensed up. The pressure from her gut was pressing against the opening of her asshole, letting a tiny jet of air leak out into her panties with a hissing sound.

Ichiko’s butt blew open with a trumpeting blast of wind, a braaaaapft sound. She felt her body being pushed slightly forward onto her desk. The ridges of the rings of of her anus turned her fart into a spluttering, somewhat wet noise. The smell was even more potent than before, with all of the scents of Ichiko’s hearty breakfast joined as one, expelling itself out her ass. A shocking silence followed. Only a few in the class turned their attention towards her. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“I really am farting!” Ichiko thought, “This is bad, and it’s probably all that poverty god’s fault. It’s my own smell, so it can’t be that bad, right? Suwano always cooked me the finest meals, so even my waste must smell okay. Come to think of it, my stomach hasn’t been feeling that good since this morning. I can explain this after class, as long as nothing worse hap-”

Ichiko’s gut felt fuller than before. Something solid was pressing up against the edge of her anus, and her waist was trembling with a prickly feeling. She clenched her legs together and pressed her knee up against her bladder and her ass, hoping to dispel the feeling. She couldn’t leave class now. She couldn’t go in the middle of class, that would be even worse. Of all the panties she chose to wear today, she had to go with white.

The head of something thick poked slightly out of the ring of Ichiko’s expanding asshole. She raised her hand and yelled out to the teacher “I have to use the bathroom!” She pushed her chair aside and ran out into the hallway. Normally, her fortune energy would make going to the bathroom not a big deal, but now she was actively fighting against her body’s desire to unleash its waste right here in the hallway.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have had all the strawberries this morning,” Ichiko said.

Her stomach continued rumbling as she ran through the hallway. A tiny spritz of urine leaked out into her panties, creating a small wet spot in front of her pussy. The smell drifted up to her nose. The smell of her farts still lingered on her body, and was growing thicker with the solid matter wanting to push itself out. Ichiko ran towards the bathrooms, only to find the door locked for maintenance. The next bathroom was one floor away, and she didn’t have time to get there now. The only place she could go and not be noticed was outside.

Ichiko pushed open the heavy door, straining under the pressure of her feces. She dashed out into the green yard, and hid herself away in the shadows between the main school building and the gym storage shed. She dropped her skirt and pulled off the fundoshi she had been wearing all day. Ichiko squatted down, the blades of grass tickling the edges of her fragrant buttocks, and struggled to push the contents of her bowels back into the earth.

A thick, clumpy, dark brown turd squeezed itself out of Ichiko’s anus. The brown piece slowly slid onto the grass. It poked at the edges of Ichiko’s butt, crackling as it fragmented into smaller pieces. She could actively feel it spreading her asshole apart, every inch of the brown dump forcing its way through her ass. As she pushed, a series of wet, loud farts reverberated from her cherry pink asshole.

Ichiko panted. “Halfway out,” she said, looking at the feces hanging out of her rump, “Come on, Ichiko. You’re a star athlete. You didn’t train those butt muscles for nothing.” Ichiko squeezed her ass cheeks together, clipping off part of the turd. She opened her butthole wide, letting the rest inch itself out onto the piece that had come before. The extra-large, extra-thick tubes of feces were befitting a girl of Ichiko’s stature, though she wasn’t proud of it.

Her body had loosened up, and her bladder, too, let itself fly onto the grass. A stream of salty, golden-yellow urine arced out of Ichiko. The light caught the parabola of pee, creating a small rainbow where she leaked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Ichiko angrily, “This isn’t time for stupid metaphors!” The urine formed a small puddle beneath her feet, flowing between her legs, and gathering beneath her solid excreta.

Her last sharp turd exited her butt crack, followed by a final, billowing fart that shook the air around her. Ichiko held her nose while groping around for her fundoshi. She jiggled her plump butt cheeks around, wanting to avoid touching her potent-smelling, voluminous fruits of her labor. Her hand ran itself down the fundoshi until she located a tag at the end of the cloth.

“Poverty God Item?” she asked, “Momiji! Show your stupid face!”

Momiji materialized before Ichiko in her spirit form. “Oh, Tits-ko,” she said nonchalantly, “How does it feel to know how a normal person goes to the bathroom? I hope you learned something from this.”

“What in the hell could you possibly be trying to teach me?” Ichiko said. She jumped over her pile of feces, and threw the fundoshi back in Momiji’s directions. “Now I don’t have any panties! What did you do?”

“The Undoshi helps, but most of it was me sticking my fingers in your ass,” said Momiji, taking her solid form. She crossed her arms and smirked in Ichiko’s direction. “Don’t make do that again. You smell really bad down there. Pee, poop, sweat... I can even see sweat coming from your cleavage. You really oughta take a bath before you go back.”

“This is your own damn fault!” said Ichiko, grabbing Momiji by her collar. Momiji poked Ichiko on her squishy breast. Ichiko’s eyes lit up with fire, and she threw Momiji halfway across the schoolyard. Momiji set herself off into a running charge. The two girls screamed at each other as they headed into heated combat once more.

“Wipe your ass with this, Tits-ko!” shouted Momiji.

“You poverty god!” Ichiko roared, “You’ll pay for this!”

Nadeshiko could be spotted only once, in the classroom scene. She may be a high class lady, but even she can’t ignore Ichiko farting in public.