Felina was panting and drooling, upside down, her nostrils flaring widely as she tried gather energy for what would be her last effort. Sweat was dribbling down her hanging body in a multitude of glistening rivers. Now she had to recover that egg. In that upside-down position, gravity was working against her and it would be much more difficult. She began to clench her abs as hard as she could. But the egg was so small. She could hardly feel it. She pushed some more, with all the strength her belly was able to develop. It was hollowed, it was caved in so far that it almost seemed her spine would show through.

This time she had felt something moving in her bowels. But it was so tiny. Grunting in her gag, she pushed again, her body curling up in the effort. It was so frustrating. She was grimacing and clenching her teeth around the large penis gag as if she could squeeze the ball with her mouth. Her whole body was so tense that her muscles were bulging under her shiny, sweat-soaked skin. She was feeling something moving inside her bowel. Yes, it was coming! She continued to push...

And suddenly it happened. Here, in front of millions of spectators, most of which were her fans while the others hated her to the point of hoping to see her totally debased, there in her inverted hanging position, with cameras offering close-ups of her grimacing face and clenched buttocks on the giant screen at the back of the stage, there, suddenly, out of Felina's twisted bowels, came out the loudest fart she had ever produced, recorded by the microphones and broadcast live to the thousands of recording machines that were collecting her efforts for the posterity.