Dangers of the trapped trump

#1
With the summer months being upon us I tend to go commando rather a lot, leaving my testes free to swish about in my shorts leaving them fresher reducing the need for knacker laquer and the temptation to whip em out an air them in inappropriate places.

In the driving position, legs semi parted you have to raise either one or both cheeks to aid successful farting. Am currently suffering from tendonstis so with little strength in my left arm and thorough agony if weight placed on it, vehicular buffing is more of a chore than a pleasure and am ashamed to admit I haven't been placing a lot of effort into it.

Yesterday, whilst in the car with my nipper, she recognised the signs of an imminent stench from daddies mud button, the clenched face, the effort of the squeeze and the audible and joyous rapture emitting from my Olympic standard anus saw her reaching for the car window, with the squeal, "no daddy no"

Nothing, no scent, no marsh cloud, no convulsions from my daughter. She even commented that usually such a loud one stinks and the look of relief on her face almost disappointed me.

About four or five minutes later I had to reach over to the glove box to get some change for the toll road. It was then that a new and strange phenomenon occurred. As I moved, my scrotum moved, and along with it a bubble of vapour in trump form flew up the side of my sack and out into free space, encased within the bubble was a smell that would fell the largest of creatures. My nipper, not being a large creature turned a different colour and reached for the window screaming at the stealth and unfairness of the delivery.

I began to explain that I hadnt trumped but the trump had become trapped in the moist but perfectly sealed area under my biffins bridge, allowing me to inadvertently hold and retain a trump outside of the body. I soon realised this was lost on her and perhaps wasn't what she wanted to hear.

This got me thinking last night that I must have created an airtight seal with my ball sack, today am going to write to NASA to suggest that airlocks, space helmets and space shuttles are insulated with scrotums.

Has anyone else found an alternate use for a scrotum or found a new means of trump delivery to an unsuspecting audience?
 
G

goatrutar

Guest
#3
Tea bagging would be the obvious alternative use. Particularly on large bald men.
 
#4
Do you have leather seats?


Because if you've got cloth ones, you could deliberately keep the trump trapped as described allowing the fragrance to diffuse into - and be absorbed by - the seat, thus adding a new anti-theft device to your pride and joy.


Don't forget to tell the insurance company.
 
#5
When I still had my colostomy, I used to gather quite a lot of wind in that bag, depending on who I was working with I'd either go into the bog and open the drainage flap squeezing all the air out and getting out of there before the stench got to me or I'd remain in the office, turn round in my chair and pretend to be inspecting the seal on the bag whilst carefully undoing the velcro on the drainage part and carefully squeezing out the air. It was then just a simple repositioning of the fan to ensure the smell was wafted in the general direction of the victim. The smell it sometimes produced reduced grown men to barfing wrecks. All fun with the bag stopped though the day I was setting up one of the winging knackers I work with. I started my day with an English breakfast bin lid, then had 4 Caramac's and a bag of American Hard gums, plus an apple. I sat back, undid the Velcro and started pushing out the air. What I hadn't accounted for though was the eggs in the bin lid were coming back to haunt me. As I squeezed out the air, there was a sound like rushing water come from my stoma followed by a very warm feeling on my right leg, I looked down to find a Caramac looking goo, which stunk like the very worst off egg smell you could possibly imagine. I gagged, the more I gagged the more shite came out, it was on the chair, floor and cleared the room faster than freaks selling the watchtower. I used to do the same in the car to, but after being threatened with having to walk between Shap and Lancaster I stopped doing it.
 
#6
Actually, quite a few years back I was using the hoover to get rid of a load of shite from drilling a hole upstairs, when I got the urge to drop my guts, the sneaky part of the brain kicked in and I pushed the hoover into my daughters room and farted down the hose. Hey presto all my methane was delivered instantly .... much to her dismay.
 
G

goatrutar

Guest
#8
Do you have leather seats?


Because if you've got cloth ones, you could deliberately keep the trump trapped as described allowing the fragrance to diffuse into - and be absorbed by - the seat, thus adding a new anti-theft device to your pride and joy.


Don't forget to tell the insurance company.
As a bonus you can also "re-live" your greatest farts by simply sniffing the seat.

Actually, quite a few years back I was using the hoover to get rid of a load of shite from drilling a hole upstairs, when I got the urge to drop my guts, the sneaky part of the brain kicked in and I pushed the hoover into my daughters room and farted down the hose. Hey presto all my methane was delivered instantly .... much to her dismay.
I'm trying that next time I use the vacuum. Knowing my luck though, I'd fucking follow through.
 
#10
The worse one I did was when I crouched down in front of the TV to,I let rip the loudest fart I've done in a long time,as I reached the peak of the sonic farty boom,I followed thru with a foul smelling gunky mess that unloaded into my undercrackers...
 
#11
If I tilt my pelvis forward, I can fart up my own fanny! My flaps make a sort of hammock, and the damp cheesiness sticks them together, a bit like crimping the edges of a Cornish pasty. And it tickles when they ripple
 
#13
Actually, quite a few years back I was using the hoover to get rid of a load of shite from drilling a hole upstairs, when I got the urge to drop my guts, the sneaky part of the brain kicked in and I pushed the hoover into my daughters room and farted down the hose. Hey presto all my methane was delivered instantly .... much to her dismay.
Bastard........!



If a spark from the Hoover had ignited the methane, the fruit of your loins would have been fried to a crisp by your improvised flamethower.
 
#14
Adds a whole other facet to the 'during shagging fanny fart', a sort of thrust'n'sniff! (scratch n sniff? Baaaad idea...in fact, sniff, bad idea full stop)
 
#15
Actually, quite a few years back I was using the hoover to get rid of a load of shite from drilling a hole upstairs, when I got the urge to drop my guts, the sneaky part of the brain kicked in and I pushed the hoover into my daughters room and farted down the hose. Hey presto all my methane was delivered instantly .... much to her dismay.
In that case you need new filters for your Hoover you fucking skinflint
 

TheIronDuke

ADC
Book Reviewer
#16
One or two contributors to this thread will receive a pleasant surprise in the New Years Honors List. We'll just put it down to 'Services to the Community' if that's all right?

Other than that I have nothing whatsoever to add. One knows when one is outclassed.
 
#18
Few years ago me and the former Miss Sanchez went to a wedding in Wimborne Minster. Proper good night on the piss but we had an early dart to get back up North in decent time. I mused silently about the forboding rumbling grumble of my lower intestines as we neared the motorway and figured that in a roomy Range Rover Sport, with the AC on full blast and both front windows wide open whilst doing 80 plus in the early morning August sun that my colonic offering would do a veritable 'Diane Fossey' and be swallowed up by the early morning mist, not to be.

Feeling brave i shifted gently and prepared bay doors for opening, the subtle and the familiar squeak of a slowly released grumble on leather seat was masked by the rythmic thumping of the Jams Greatest Hits on the cd player, and I held my breath ready for the inevitable bollocking and girly punch delivered to my left arm, 5 seconds in? Not a hint of ring musk, 10 seconds in and I was high fiving myself, after a quick check over my shoulder and a shifting in my seat before pulling out at a junction it announced its arrival, a pungent whiff of digested finger foods and cold curry mixed with pint after pint of Stella, staring stoically ahead I felt her stiffen up as her head darted towards me, I grinned like Billy Bunter and awarded myself 10 points as she baulked and slapped my shoulder whilst rooting around in her handbag before spraying me with Chanel No 5, the cunt didn't say a word to me until home was in view :)
 
#19
Ah, an arse thread on ARRSE, always worth a read.

If I tilt my pelvis forward, I can fart up my own fanny! My flaps make a sort of hammock, and the damp cheesiness sticks them together, a bit like crimping the edges of a Cornish pasty. And it tickles when they ripple
Sorry, I'm having difficulty picturing that. Can you post a video please?
 
#20
A few years ago I worked with a guy who suffered with chapped lips, a lot. He always kept a BFO jar of 'Vaseline' in his desk. When it became almost empty, one of the lads farted into it and put the lid back. I didn't think it would linger very long. It did and a few days later, the production manager, he with the chapped lips problem. Whist hosting a meeting, went to apply some, the faces in the room were a joy to behold, especially as he had applied some Vaseline to his lips before the full effect hit everyone.
 

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