#coprophilous

I think this is Pilobolus kleinii, one of the dung cannon fungi AKA hat throwers.

This fungus grows on dung. Its strategy for colonising new piles of dung is to have its spores be eaten by a herbivore, pass through the animal's gut and end up in a freshly deposited stool.

To this end, these sticky black sporangia are propelled clear of the dung pile by the explosive force of the turgid swelling beneath them bursting. Each has a chance of landing on some palatable grass away from the faeces, where they can be ingested.

(sorry that this is so late! hopefully its worth it, ive been very busy but also writing this on and off for a while. Thank you for the request it was a lot of fun :) enjoy!)

BEFORE YOU READ! This story contains lots of scat, stuffing, and m@sturb*tion, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+ i indulged myself a little more than usual lol

Doc rubbed his stomach, or at least tried with that annoying metal band in the way. He'd definitely never really been skinny, and the suit was designed to fit his body, but after the explosion it seemed to have clamped down onto him, and especially now that he was bloated; rolls of his tummy sticking out from the top and bottom of the belt. His poor stomach was pressing so hard on it the metal was bowing ever-so-slightly. The rubbing didn't help the ache, the only response from his gut being a horrible cramp and gurgle, weeks of trapped gas and waste and now what was probably a weeks-worth of cheap snack food swirling around. Being a super-villain you don't really have the best dietary options and can only really eat what you can steal, and primarily from gas stations unless you want to cause a scene over some steak. Another cramp surged through his intestines and he bent over to give room while he flexed his asshole with a grunt, pushing and pushing until his guts felt like they were going to burst. Nothing. Not even a fart. There had to be some way he could get things going, he'd been stuck in his lair barely making any progress on his generator because of this stupid bellyache, and it only seemed to get worse. But it wasn't like he could just stop eating! Then, he got an idea.

One of his four giant metal actuators crept over to the small fridge in the corner of the room; one of the many things he had invented to accomodate his stay in the ruins of his lab. The actuator opened it, and Otto was happy to find a full carton of milk. He'd gotten a little lactose intolerant as the years went by, not bad just enough to give him a solid case of the runs and some gas for a while, which he would gladly take on for relief. Another cramp shot through his gut, sending a gurgle out through his bowels. Excitedly, he bored down with his hands on his knees and pushed. His asshole gaped open, kissing the insides of his underwear, but again nothing. He groaned and opened the carton, ready to just chug it straight out. He didn't have any clean dishes anyway.

With the fullness in his stomach, which seemed already packed to the brim, the milk was not going down easy. Every few gulps he'd have to let off to calm down the nausea starting to build, and let out a few milky burps that only end up making him feel fuller. If before he was bloated, by half the carton was gone he was huge. His stomach gurgled nonstop, and he sat idly on the ground, milk in hand and a pack of crackers to help it wash down as his stomach expanded around the belt, coming over it on the sides with a red, angry hue. The pain was unbearable. Gurgles and groans that sounded sicker and sicker by the minute filled the room, accompanied with his animalistic grunts and curses as he desperately tried to get something out. He could feel the milk begin to seep into everything he had eaten, and then finally! Moving down his intestine. He could feel the burning inside him, and knew that his next load if it ever came was going to be liquid, but he looked forward to it if it meant he could actually poop. He didn't remember the last time he unloaded but it had definitely been over a week, maybe more. And he was usually a pretty consistent guy.

As the hours went by he had finally finished the jug and now sat on the floor, hands desperately kneading into his stomach as he let out dry burps and moaned through cramps. The milk was starting to run through his system, the pressure that once lie under his belt now pressing against some mass behind his asshole. Crawling on the floor, he threw his ass into the air, uncaring that he was still wearing pants and underwear, and pushed with everything he had. The mass moved maybe a centimeter.

"Come on..." he grunted to himself, and pushed again, feeling all of the hot mush in his rectum push against the hard turd. He was sweating now, teeth grit and eyes screwed shut as he lay unabashedly with his legs spread wide. He guessed he couldnt get anymore embarrassed than this, and two of his metal arms flew down to remove his pants. He hooked his naked legs over his arms and scooted down into place, his other arms steadied himself against the wall, holding him up as he shook and strained. Inch by inch, he could feel the hot liquid shit forcing the mass through his bowels, working him so hard he was breaking a bit of a sweat. "Please--" He grunted as hard as he could, flexing his asshole once more and a small pocket of air around the turd squirted out of him, blasting a jet of hot warm stink onto the floor in front of him.

His guts roiled, pushing desperately to get more out. He grunted and groaned, sounding somewhat primal as his eyebrows furrowed and face turned red in concentration. Several short and slightly damp farts shot out, each one carrying the mass a little more until it was finally resting against his asshole. He took a deep breath before giving it one final push, asshole puckering to reveal the large brown lump inside him, which didn't move. His guts groaned and churned around it, pushing the diarrhea that rest snugly behind it forward and compacting it even harder against the clog in his system. Trapped gas squelched and his eyes were starting to grow wet. Along with the strain, the embarrassment of the situation was very very real, even alone having his naked ass exposed like this felt alien.

The pressure in his stomach got worse, and the bottom of his belly and bowels bloated up, the pressure from the belt creating an even worse pain so bad he felt he would pop. He had to do something, and as another unsuccessful push traveled through his guts he grew desperate. His legs hiked up farther, and one arm came down to rest by his ass, hesitating. Was he really about to do this?

Gggrrgllgg... His stomach answered him, twisting in an agonizing affirmation, and his asshole was forced open another time. His fingers ventured inside, the rim wet and soft from forcing out what little gas he could, and lubing itself up to prepare for what was cooking in his guts. His middle finger slipped inside, and the foreign sensation made it feel like he was already messing himself, but he quickly found the log blocking said fate. It was hard and round inside him, stretching past the walls of his colon and stopping him up good. He knew there was no way he would be able to fit his fingers around the turd to pull it out, so instead he resigned to breaking it up. The sensation of having his fingers stuffed in his own ass, literally about to dig the shit out had already given him quite a tall erection, and he used some of the precum beginning to spit out of his cock as lube before venturing back into his hole.

The sensations were incredible; the pressure of his diarrhea crammed up behind the monster of a log he was currently dismantling, the sexuality of his fingers sliding in and out of his own butt, his massive erection steadily pumping thick hot precum out on his thighs... Even the actuators began to purr and click as they held his position on the floor for him. 20-30 minutes passed and the log was finally venturing closer and closer to the exit, now in still very large but easier to push out chunks. Sliding his finger out from his ass one last time, giving his aching belly and encouraging pat, and moaning out an even more encouraging grunt, Otto began pushing again. His asshole bloomed open, sore and irritated, and he could feel several large knobs of solid feces begin sliding out, fast. Wet farts forced themselves out, pushing his turds to go even faster until one exceptionally juicy fart was plugged by a soft, wet 'ppllrrfffbbt' as his asshole stretched around the first turd. His stomach groaned, the belt forcing even more pressure than he was applying as a hard, slippery shit shot from his asshole, letting out a series of wet sharts that stained the dark floor of his lair with a muddy brown. The turd fell on the floor, resting beneath his asscheeks with a soft noise unheard over the crackling of the rest of his load and his grunting. His face was certainly red from the struggle, and sweat rolled down his face as he filled the room with animalistic moans. His hole didn't even have time think about closing to rest before two more turds were forcing their way out, nudging over the first one to make room in their pile on the floor.

The bottom of Otto's asscheeks were smeared a dirty brown, and the whole room smelled of shit, an odd turn-on the physicist found as another hot smelly jet of farts covered the pile. The pressure was slightly better, but his stomach roiled and bowels moaned, and he knew he was nowhere close to finished. The next load that slid out of his hole was significantly softer and more malleable, pockets of chunky brown liquid sliding out the sides of each piece of mushy shit. The release was incredible; more than a weeks worth of waste all forcing its way out of him at once. As his asshole bloomed harder, forcing a small spurt of shit that began a trickling stream of thick diarrhea, he took one hand to his hard cock. Slowly, he began pumping it, and his moans of pain and grunts of relief turned into those of pleasure.

By this time he was having full on diarrhea, the milk having degraded all of the shit in his body to a thick, chunky liquid like a chowder. His legs were raised in the air, asshole on full display as it worked, the lips blooming open to kiss out more disgusting mud. The sounds were much louder and wetter, his farts becoming more frequent and intense, blasting chunk after chunk of poop all over the floor in front of him, going feet past the huge pile he'd created. Each wet noise from his body send a throbbing wave of arousal through his cock and stroked up the base, sending him closer and closer to coming, but he had more to go.