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Warning: Contains some plot spoilers for Night in the Woods, as well as post-vore disposal content. Do not read if either of these make you squeamish.

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The fox stumbled through the darkness, the cave better lit than he remembered. He took in every detail he could make out, trying to find just the right spot... he wanted to be sure he didn't meet an untimely end falling into the abyss.

The cave was quiet. The cultists had either gone elsewhere, or perhaps sacrificed themselves to their infernal deity. 'Good riddance,' Gregg thought.

Speaking of riddance, the silence was broken by a deep rumble, the sound echoing off of the cave's walls. Looking down, Gregg could make out the sizable ballgut he still sported. It was smaller than before, not to mention featureless, now that the man he'd devoured had been reduced to nothing but raw materials for the vulpine to use up.

Or not, in this case. His round middle was not sloshy, but hard. His belly had shifted lower, as much of the bulge one could make out (barring the fresh layer of fat) was composed of what his body had rejected... pure, concentrated waste.

He stopped. He had found the large hole in the ground he was looking for... the hole the waste that was swelling his body outward was going to be deposited in. The hole that that... thing lived in, that had caused so many innocent people to lose their lives so it could be satiated.

He casually reached down, grabbing ahold of his belt buckle and undoing it. His pants soon fell down... his boxers soon after. The slightest smirk formed along the fox's muzzle... he had an offering for the creature, but not one it had in mind, surely. His gut had a mind of its own, registering what its owner was up to, demanding to be emptied with an angry gurgle, making the fox wince in pain.

Gregg was careful to balance himself just right as he turned around, squatting slowly as he leaned forward to place his hands on his knees. He made sure his balance was towards the front, to avoid accidentally falling in the hole; that would be quite the damper on his malicious plot.

He hiked his tail upward, breathing softly as he began to gently push. As eager as he was to get that bastard's remains out of his body, he didn't want to overexert himself and let the cultist give him something to remember him by. He was sure Angus would appreciate that too the next time they made love.

A soft groan slipped from his muzzle as he felt his pucker begin to open, stretching far wider than he was used to... Angus was fairly well-endowed, but his bowels were clearly filled to the brim; the sheer mass of meat Gregg's body had to process meant his guts compensated by making the waste matter even larger in diameter, just so it would all fit in the lower parts of the fox man's plumbing.

After what must have been at least a foot of the solid, brown matter, Gregg's tailhole clenched, the beercan-thick log falling into the abyss below. Gregg's ears perked downward, swearing he soon heard some sort of displeased growl far below... but that just encouraged him to keep going.

He shivered as he began pushing out the next one, sniffing the air as an unexpected smell greeted his muzzle. Mixed in with the usual unpleasant odors one would expect from this lewd act, there was something else... arousal. His cock had started to peek forth from its sheathe, making him blush, glad nobody was around to see. This was strange... he had never been aroused taking a dump before.

Then again, most of his bathroom trips didn't involve amounts of waste so copious they would glide along the tender nerves of his prostate on the way out, and with so many pieces needing to be pushed out, there was no shortage of stimulation. As he flexed to pinch off the next "offering," his cock pulsed as a result of all those muscles sharing a connection... he mused in his mind that nature had probably purposely arranged for squeezing out a meal to be so pleasurable to make sure nobody would forget to do it.

Given there was no one to watch him (nor would he probably care, given his criminal activities), he reached a hand down and wrapped it around the base of his dick, his knot fully plumped as his maleness throbbed with every beat of his excited heart. He began to stroke his needy member, knowing he'd be here for a while and it would be a good idea to take care of an excretion-induced erection before heading back home.

Gregg's belly was starting to slowly decrease in size as he pushed out more and more of what had once been a (he hated to admit) cute bunny. He gritted his teeth, shivering at the stimulations he was receiving from back and front, the slightest tears gathering in his eyes from the pained stretches of his rump, though any discomfort was more than compensated for by the bliss of feeling it all grind against his prostate... to say nothing of that satisfied bliss that comes from relieving intestinal pressure after a great feast.

Continuing to yank on his dick, the fox unconsciously bucked his hips into his palm, careful to not upset his balance and send him tumbling into the pit below. As he felt a tingle through his body as he grew close, he gritted his teeth, his bowels now mostly empty but something was now stuck, refusing to join the rest of the rabbit's remains in the abyss. He temporarily ceased his masturbation efforts to give his all to forcing whatever it was out.

With a lewd pop, what had been causing the blockage had left as quickly as it came, a slimy, almost completely intact skull plopping forth from his depths. The rest of the rabbit's bones had liquefied well, giving Gregg plenty of calcium to make his own skeleton nice and strong, but the skull... it had stubbornly refused to do so, its empty eye sockets staring at the inner walls of the man who had destroyed its owner for hours on end. Gregg would only get a fleeting chance to see the skull, however, turning around just as it disappeared into the darkness, his guts finally emptied and communicating their satisfaction to their owner with a lurid, wet gurgle.

The skull's diameter had been enough to stretch Gregg far beyond what even the rest of his session had done to him. It had made a tear slide down the side of his cheek, but at the same time, finally finishing up nature's call had left him with a primal, predatory bliss that pushed him over the edge. His cock flared, firing several thick strands of rich fox seed on the ground in front of him, his balls emptying their contents to finish off Gregg's gross, lewd act. His knees buckled to such an extent the fox quickly fell forward rather than backward, leaning on his knees as his climax continued, finally ebbing a few seconds later as his torrent of cum was soon reduced to a dribble before ceasing completely.

The fox panted loudly, catching his breath after the dual exertions of orgasm and excretion had taken their toll on him. He ran a hand over his middle... while there was a considerably thick layer of fat there, it was otherwise empty, with no solids present. As he zipped his jacket back up after keeping it open to accommodate his giant stomach, he grinned with satisfaction. What had once been a man... no, a murderer, was now nothing more than a steaming pile of fox shit, weighing dozens of pounds and likely having given the demon below a nasty surprise.

Gregg perked up as he realized there was still one more release necessary. He felt it try to leak forth, but he wasn't going to let his bodily functions one up him. He was soon standing once more, turning himself around as he grabbed ahold of his slowly-softening erection, before finally letting loose.

The body being two-thirds water, it wasn't that surprising how much urine had gathered in the fox's poor bladder. The fast absorption of the substance meant he had already had a chance to relieve himself of much of it back home (until the rank, asparagus-esque odor of the lapine-derived urine made Angus force Gregg to go elsewhere to do it), but he was still rather surprised his bladder had not burst from its fullness.

He would urinate for a good three minutes, the golden stream pouring down into the hole at such high pressure it forked more than once (fortunately, none of it got on his nice pants). He inhaled and exhaled as he patiently waited, his tongue lolling out of his mouth from the sweet relief of it all... the river eventually running dry and the vulpine's urine becoming just a dribble. Grabbing ahold of his maleness, he gave it several good shakes, wanting every last trace of the bunny's fluids out of him.

Gregg reached down, pulling up his boxers and pants, before taking a few moments to put his belt back on in the dark.

He sniffed the air, waving a hand in front of his face... even as deep as the hole was, it was impossible to miss what he had just deposited into it. The foul smell making the poorly-ventilated mines even worse, he was more than happy to make an exit, swiftly walking away from the impromptu latrine.

He stopped for a moment to look over his shoulder... his eyes showing contemplation.

He smiled. Giving his rump a pat through his pants as if to congratulate it for doing its work, he spoke, "Too bad I couldn't eat all of you."

The fox gave a satisfied hmph, before resuming his walk, musing on what all the other cultists would have tasted like... and how great it would have been to throw them all down the hole they so worshipped in a way none of them could have imagined.

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Gregg shot up from his sleeping place on the couch, his massive belly restraining how far he could move forward. It had done what one might expect: it had shrunken considerably while remaining bulbous, all while shifting lower and hardening as nutrition became nothing more than waste in need of disposal. It had all been a dream... a very lewd, satisfying dream.

Seeing the chainsaw-snoring Angus still sleeping atop his belly as it emitted loud, needy rumbles demanding that he evacuate all its contents, Gregg sighed.

It really was a shame the mine had collapsed. He would have loved to make his dream a reality, not to mention sampled all the remaining morsels within the mine. The idea of hunting them all in the dark and picking them off like a horror film was strangely satisfying. While Gregg's regular personality remained largely intact, he was coming around to the idea of being a predator, as his species would have demanded... he would not hurt a hair on someone innocent's head, but he had been willing to shoot the cultists dead. It wasn't that surprising he was open to just simply eating them... that way they'd at least be useful to him, not to mention it was far more physically and emotionally satisfying to devour assholes only to eventually push them out of one.

His gut rumbled again, more loudly, sounding like a washing machine with all its wetness. He couldn't think too much on what could have been. His only thought was finding somewhere besides the bathroom to do the deed so Angus didn't kill him for creating the mother of all clogs.