heffalump

No cigar. Whittier huffed and squeezed, but his rear end was having none of it. Bazi's face fell when she rotated Whit 90 degrees to the left and saw the strained 'lolz how do I sphincter?'  look on his little face. Could she just leave him to strain and hope that it all worked out? No.. at the rate he was going, either his eyes would pop out of his skull, or he would just explode - inwardly. With a resigned sigh, Bazi nudged Whit's wire-like tail out of the way to stimulate the area, face scrunched up in fear and anticipation.

Goddamnit Poopie-face!