Fucking Gross Emblem Exert: Marth's Corruption (Gross)

Perhaps there was hope for them yet. Marth could leave this training section by his lonesome and tell the other heros in the barracks that this group needed to be quarantined. Then, he could consult the mages and clerics on hand and see if there was any such remedy for this strange phenomenon. Things looked dark for the future of these three, but Marth’s escape from this strange curse, disease… whatever it was, stood as a ray of hope.

That was, until Marth realized that Lucina hadn’t moved back towards the other two. Instead, she’d kept her same distance from the swordsman maybe two yards away, only adjusting her position. She bent down into a squat, ass facing towards Marth. A token effort was made to pull her clothing aside.

Marth’s heart sunk. He wasn’t getting away. The hero’s fate was sealed.

The air boomed with the sound of Lucina’s freshest gas blasting, shrouding the air before Marth in that same obscene fog. Alongside the trumpetting blasts, her pants began to sag and her crotch began to dampen. The swordswoman was freely soiling herself for everyone to see, with no comment on her actions other than a loud sigh that soon transitioned to more farts.

Marth had no idea what to do. There he was, inside the center of Lucina’s acrid gas cloud. It was so burningly hot, the smell so raw and unflattering from such a proud warrior. Marth tried to stand still at first. Olivia had exerted herself under the toxic gas and had fallen thanks to it. All he could think to do was stand still and hope the wind would brush the gasses away.

He tried not to breath the horrible gas in. Letting it into his body seemed like the worst possible idea. Unfortunately, a momentary lapse in focus from another screeching ass rip lead to his nose getting a sniffle of the fart fog. Soon after, his natural recoil to the odor lead to a flinch that parted his mouth and let more of the toxin in to him.

Marth suddenly found it hard to speak. It felt as if his body needed something. Something so bad that every other function of the poor boy needed to wait until it was answered. Sweat dewed on his brow, his teeth clenched together. His hips pressed into each other. His gaze tilted upwards as he felt gasped from a crippling force wracking his body.

He… he was going to shit himself!

Marth’s anus flexed wider than the poor thing had ever stretched before. Wrist thick logs of solid scat deluged out of his asshole into his undergarments at a frighteningly fast speed. Marth could only shriek and brace himself as his body produced more and more scat, coiling out of him into his rapidly ruining underwear! The only break, the only free time the hero’s poor asshole had as such an apocalyptic infected shit ravaged him were when ripping booms of methane escaped him in absolutely ridiculous farts. Deafening expulsions of gas ripped out of him that outclassed even Olivia and Inigo’s impressive shows, tainting the air around them green with corrupt gasses in a powerful explosion of ass fumes.

The lucky trio of spectators got a spectacular view of the action unfolding. The seat of his tight black pants hugging his rump suddenly contorted beneath the evaculating waste. A lone lump soon turned into a damp bulging mass. Larger and larger still it grew, descending down the swordsman’s leg holes and stretching his pants to the absolute limit. The spectating trio was of course far less worried about Marth’s health and how on earth he was doing all this and more so adoring the show.

Strangest of all, Marth barely felt any less full. Even as his pants bulged and creaked with immense quantities of hot shit, it felt more like he was still holding back a dump rather than having an obscene one cascade out of him. He hadn’t even really taken to pushing, just letting his scat seep out of him. And worse and worse still the need to go intensified. Marth’s resolve was being cleaved away. Something inside him told him he shouldn’t push, he couldn’t push. That doing so would be giving up a part of him and letting something new take hold. That same something that had taken hold of Olivia and Inigo and turned them into these noxious disgusting gas and waste factories. But it felt so bad to hold on. His body wanted so very badly to let it all happen. Marth struggled. With his final ounce of strength, he gasped and….

“Uuuuagh~!” Marth fully gave in. He squat his legs, gripped his kneecaps with his hands, arched his back, and pushed as hard as he could. The speed of his bowel movement doubled. His pants fully gave up, letting his corrupt scat fall from his ruin loins and drop a massive cowpat of shit between his legs.

Marth was amazed. Holy fuck, it felt so good to let go! All that pent up matter spewing out of his asshole, slapping against the ground, staining the air… oh, what had he been missing out on! The sensation of shit rolling against his poor pummeled prostate had already stirred the swordsman to excitement. A hand reached down to tend to his now exposed cock. Marth’s smile went manic as he clutched his teeth and groaned in delight. His eyes shifted from their natural color to a bright green, joining his comrades in his complete descent to this infection.