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Deeper and deeper into the foxhole he goes. By now Puncher was in past his shoulders, and his air was being replaced by the putrid, yet conveniently breathable farts. "Mmm... There you go. That's right." Muro encourages the boy on his filthy journey while he rubs his big bouncy buns and lets out more and more waves of gas upon him. The hero's frustrated face was growing covered in whatever was coating the inner walls as he progressed. "Ohh! Keep going. Crawl down the hole into Wonderland, kiddo!" The fox makes it past his chest when he takes a small break to catch his breath and massage his meat. When he clenches again, his little hostage smacked headfirst into the vulpine psychic's prostate. "Yyyess! Good boy! I knew you belonged in my behind." Muro clenched his hardest at that point, inspiring more vigorous struggles from his precious toy and more putrid farts from his intestines.
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