Outhouse Oversight
Story by CraZygAEmeR on SoFurry
Blake just wants somewhere to sleep for the night but is interrupted by one of his companions looking for the toilet.
The full moon looks down on a clearing. In this clearing stands Blake Goldleaf shivering from the cold after losing his sleeping bag running away from that wild bear. The only other tent is already occupied by his two travelling companions and now he has to find somewhere else to sleep since the fire has gone out. Pacing around he gets an idea! He saw an outhouse earlier not too far away, certainly that could keep him warm for the night!
Within a few minutes he reaches the small wooden building with the door wide open; it's currently empty. He takes a step towards it but is stopped when the smell hits him, judging by the flies it seems it's not as empty as he first thought. He considers his options: deal with the smell or freeze to death. While thinking carefully he notices something else next to the outhouse.
Walking closer his suspicions are confirmed that it's a coffin. Curiosity getting the better of him he cautiously looks inside to see that it's empty. It's padded on the inside and even has a pillow, he could sleep in here! Although, what if the owner returns? He doesn't want to deal with a walking corpse. Then again, if he doesn't he might turn into a walking corpse.
Lying down in the coffin he lifts up the lid to see a large circular hole where the head is. He's not sure if this is some new design or if this is why the coffin was abandoned here, but it's better than nothing. He places the lid on top and closes his eyes.
It doesn't take long for him to realise that he can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep and just keeps shifting around until he's struck by another one of his brilliant ideas. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small vial with the word 'paralysis' on it. "Paralysis is basically sleep." He thinks to himself out loud before drinking the entire thing. In a few seconds the potion takes effect and he's lying there completely still, unable to move. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep.
Back at the tent, Leopold, an albino Liontaur, wakes up to a rumbling in his rotund stomach. He can tell it isn't hunger because he ate plenty before going to sleep, instead that food is trying to get out. He gets up and heads out the tent, waking up Mayor Baker's daughter, Bessie, who was sleeping next to him, she follows him outside. "What's wrong?" She asks, that annoyed expression of hers still plastered on her face as she brushes her brunette hair aside.
"I need to go." He replies while holding his stomach. She sighs and shakes her head.
"There's an outhouse over there." She points in the direction they came from. He looks at her confused. "... What?"
"What's an 'outhouse'?" He replies while scratching his mane.
She stares at him for a moment. "It's a small building with a wooden box with a hole on top. You sit on it like a chair and 'go' inside the hole. As for me, the only place I'm 'going' is back to bed." She turns towards the tent and climbs back inside. Leopold sets off in the direction she pointed to.
Blake, still unable to sleep or move, decides to just stare up at the starry night sky. He's alerted to footsteps in the grass which sounds like someone walking towards him; being unable to fight, he hopes the owner of the coffin is friendly. He listens intently and can hear a voice which he quickly recognises as Leopold.
Leopold reaches the small wooden building that Bessie mentioned and sure enough he sees a wooden box with a hole on top. "Ah, so this is the 'outhouse' Bee mentioned!" He exclaims. His excitement drops when he sees that the size of the building. It doesn't look like it was meant to handle Taurs, and Leopold is a particularly fat one so his butt would likely just get stuck in the door frame.
He decides to just go behind the trees when he notices another box next to the building. This one also has a hole on top which is bigger than the other one and the box is also longer. "Was this made because someone felt bad for Taurs?" His stomach grumbles again. "Well... whoever made this, I'll thank 'em later!" He says as he turns around and backs up till he's positioned over the hole.
Blake stares up as his view went from the stars to a pair of large, dangling balls behind an uncut sheath covered unmistakably in Leopold's white fur. He watches as they're slowly lowered into the hole. Blake opens his mouth to shout but no noise escapes him, he tries again but still nothing. Could this be an effect of that paralysis potion? He never did understand how this magic stuff works. The ballsack rests on his chest and he looks up to see two massive cheeks surrounding a pink anus, which confirms one thing: not every part of Leopold's body is white.
The wooden box groans as the albino Liontaur rests his full weight on top of it. Putting his hands on his upper stomach, he can feel the bubbling inside push itself downwards. "Come on, just relax." He says to himself, whatever it is feels big. As the contents move into his second stomach he can feel the gas in there getting pushed out towards his backside.
All Blake can do is stare, nothing's happened yet but the smell emanating from Leopold's crack is foul. Unfortunately the potion hasn't gotten rid of his sense of smell. He hopes that it'll be over quickly but judging by the sounds he doesn't feel lucky. He can still hear his companion mumbling to himself, unable to decide if he should relax or push. After a few long moments the pink ring winks at him several times as a warning of what's to come.
Leopold smiles as a roar explodes out of his rear for several seconds, glad to get some much needed relief. When it ends he pats his stomach again, it's still bloated and ready for more. "Okay, this time I'll try push..." He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists.
The intestinal wind washing over Blake makes him want to retch, the smell of digested meat forcing its way into his mouth and blowing back his blonde hair. The good news is he doesn't have to worry about being cold anymore, but he's not sure if this alternative is better. He makes up his mind when the next fart comes out in multiple short bursts like someone pounding on a drum, each one hitting him in the face. Even while the next one is coming out like a trumpet, he's unable to ignore the warm liquid splashing onto his body.
Leopold lets out a sigh as he empties his bladder, trying to get his mind off the pressure in his belly; it doesn't work however, he can still feel the gurgling force itself out. This time the gas, which is strong enough to reach his nose from all the way back there, just serves as a prelude of what's trying to escape.
The crackling noise confirms that there's still more to come as he sees a brown log make its way out of the pink hole above his head and slowly move towards him only to suddenly stop. He can hear Leopold breathing heavily above him, likely putting in a lot of effort to force this out. After a deep breath and more grunting the faeces continues its journey towards his face.
Taking another deep breath and clenching his fists again, he can feel part of the dung break off as more pushes out to replace it. The smell has gotten so bad that Leopold has to waft it away. "Why do Humans make these things?" he asks no one in particular. He pushes out another only to find that his poop is feeling softer than it was earlier.
The next log that lands on his face is more like mush. He never thought he'd miss solid poop until a soft one splatters onto his face, some of it sticking while the rest rolls off to the side where it joins the solid ones. Unable to wipe it off he attempts blowing to no avail.
A fart hisses its way out past the wall of scat, almost hot enough to singe Leopold's anus that it causes him to wince. The difference in temperature is noticeable with the cold wind blowing over his top half and the hot wind blowing out of his bottom half. He's thankful for the fur to keep him warm, but it's problematic in situations where it's too warm, which seems to be happening right now.
With another blast of flatulence, he can feel some wet drops land on his face. It's sweat dripping from Leopold's fudge factory, some of the salty liquid getting into his mouth which causes him to reflexively attempt to retch which proves to be a mistake when some of the faeces drops into his mouth, firm enough to prop it open, which is immediately followed by something much worse.
The next mud ball pops out of his system and, to his surprise, the only thing left is chunky diarrhoea which easily flows out, letting him relax after what he considers a hard-fought battle against his own intestines. It only lasts for about a minute, but no doubt is staining his beautiful fur.
Unable to spit it out he has no choice but to swallow it before it drowns him. After almost a minute it finally ends, but with the blockage gone there's nothing to stop the flatulence which blasts into his open mouth freely. All sorts of farts escape from his companion's sphincter siren, from loud to quiet, drawn out to rapid punches of wind. In the end he loses count of how many minutes he spends in the coffin; the gas just doesn't seem to end.
With the last of his meal finally out of his bowels, he looks up and sees dawn breaking over the horizon -- he must've been sat on this box for hours. "Guess I lost track of time." With one last toot he struggles to his feet and stretches before setting off towards camp.
With the effect of the potion wearing off Blake musters all his strength to spit the crap out of his mouth and shout, which stops Leopold in his tracks. Turning around and looking into the box he sees his friend covered in what was once the Liontaur's dinner. "What're you doing in there?"
"I was trying to sleep until you came along. Get me out of here!"
"I... I don't want to get that on my fur."
"... Well, could you take me back to camp at least?"
Leopold agrees, dragging the box back to camp while apologising along the way. What will Bee say about this? Perhaps neither of them will tell her... or speak of this ever again.
Alternate Scenes:
With the last of his meal finally out of his bowels, he looks up and sees dawn breaking over the horizon -- he must've been sat on this box for hours. "Guess I lost track of time." With one last toot he struggles to his feet and sets off towards camp.
Blake lies there still under the effects of the potion as he sees Leopold walk away.
"What were you doing on that box?" Says a voice unfamiliar to him.
"Oh that thing is for Taurs like us." Leopold replies. "You sit on it and go inside the hole."
"That's a weird thing to make, but I guess Humans want it to be used."
"I'll leave you to it then."
Looking up, he sees a pair of balls dangling above him. Slowly, the back legs bend and the balls lower themselves into the hole and rest on his chest, a giant butthole staring at him. The coffin groans from the weight and a bubbling noise makes its way towards the Taur's backdoor.
The Hippotaur gently pushes his stomach to help push the fart out. He was told not to eat too much, but a feast is a feast, and now he's feeling the consequences of his gluttony. As the waste moves downwards and his dick turns into a hose, he looks back and sees a few other Taurs that he's been travelling with waiting their turn to try out this box.