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The unique welcome that Tsarin and Sal experienced was only going to get better before it was over, but it was difficult for the latter to understand why they were being welcomed in such an unusual way at all.

He simply didn't understand the deeper intricacies of feline culture the way that his larger friend did, but he proved to be just as talented at adapting to the rigors of it: his body was being treated with all the care of a ragdoll, and every surface of his flesh was being made into an erogenous zone for the lions that had welcomed him in.

Tsarin was doing his best to keep an eye on the lapine as the council made their rounds, but he had his own mountains of flesh to contend with, and they weren't showing any signs of slowing, despite the pleasure that was already mounting.

The feral grunts radiating from the edge of the hut in the center of town would have drawn a crowd under normal circumstances, but under these, everyone on the outside knew what was going on. As much as they wanted to open a flap of the hut and steal a gaze at the show, they knew better than to interfere with such delicate policy meetings.

If anything were to go wrong: a mistake by either side of any kind was all it would take for the feline tribes to find themselves in pitched combat once more, and a pair of emissaries returning to the lands of the snow leopards with wounds and bloodshed was the last thing either side wanted.

They were quickly finding a common ground and common interest, as the entire show came to a brief halt. Even Tsarin was privy to a momentary break in the action as all eyes looked back to Sal, wondering how such a small, slender body could handle as much of the elders as he was currently taking...but when they expected him to crack under the pressure, he kept right on going.

All of his previous sessions with Tsarin were paying off _quite_handsomely.

Though they were more wont to use low, heavy grunts and gestures to describe what was going on in front of them, there was no need for words as Sal had his throat utterly swabbed. Against the front of his neck, everyone admired the growing bulge and the way that it shifted his flesh with every pass, leaving all of them to wonder if the rabbit could be broken in the traditional way.

Tsarin knew better than that, but he'd allow their lion welcoming party to discover the truth the old-fashioned way; it was much more pleasurable than being told the truth up front.

"Well-trained," Simba murmured, giving Tsarin a look that explained how well he understood the bond that the snow leopard and the rabbit must have shared. "Good..."

They weren't the kind of skills that could be naturally inclined: they had to be picked up and taught, and in order to teach them, Tsarin had to contain a good deal of that skill, himself.

Simba was looking forward to seeing just how far he could take things with his own mount, as he turned Tsarin's attention back to him and gave him a knowing, encouraging smirk.

As it was, Sal's task was impressive, but Tsarin was still the one dealing with the two largest members of the lion colonies, and taking even one of them at a time would be difficult.

He was giving it his all as he held still for Simba's renewed advance, but it wouldn't be easy to put the leader of the tribe at a permanent state of ease until the trials were complete.

With Ruvus so close by and getting his own slice of the action, Tsarin was going to have his hands full for the rest of the evening, but he was grateful to have Simba be the one pressing into his throat when he felt the narrow, barbed tip of a feline cock finally teasing at his asshole: he'd actually been eager to know how deep that penetration would reach, when it happened.

After being teased with the prospect of it for so long, Tsarin couldn't help clenching up a little bit against the barbs, but the slick tincture that was spread across his bodice and Ruvus' member was plentiful enough to make for a smooth, easy penetration. The moment Tsarin collected himself and relaxed, the tip of the long, pulsing rod speared him from behind and even with just a couple of inches, it provided a fullness that no one else had ever granted the snow leopard.

"Tight...k-kitty..." Ruvus groaned, kneeling between Tsarin's spread legs. He was able to lift the feline toward himself just enough to keep reaching forward, but as he did, he aided Simba's own tool into reaching a little deeper, until the chief of the pack was swabbing Tsarin's throat with the warm, tender barbs on the tip of his cock.

As full as Sal was, Tsarin's larger body was meeting with a demand of the flesh that very few in the realm could hope to keep up with.

" Very ," Simba groaned, resting his paw against the side of Tsarin's cheek. He was trying his best to imitate the bulge that remained pressed against Sal's throat, but it was tougher for the lead lion to do so, given how thick and swollen with muscle Tsarin's entire frame was.

When the snow leopard didn't gag around his mouthful, however, Simba drove his hips forth and went that much deeper into the helpless, offered orifice, determined to keep his place as the head of the tribe well established.

For the easier task of taking the rabbit down a peg and keeping him there, Tielo and Terryn were happy to just enjoy their ride, but they weren't doing so in a passive way whatsoever, as Sal would have been able to attest.

Of course, in his current state, just breathing was a tall order...and even managing words of praise for the welcoming party would have been nigh impossible, as his throat became sore with the effort of keeping Tielo entertained.

"Close...g-getting...close..." the full, muscular fighter groaned down at Sal, his voice laden with a sense of appreciation that he was terribly slow to offer to others. His sense of arrogance as perhaps the strongest warrior in the tribe made him much quicker to criticism than appreciation, but he never saw the rabbit as a threat, or the prospect of resisting him to be a challenge.

As it was, just by keeping his neck flat and his throat open, Sal was proving more than a match for the bulky warrior...and that kind of performance demanded his respect, no matter how Tielo tried to hide his reactions.

Across the body of the lapine, Terryn was grinning at his fellow warrior, having just pushed the last inch of his rod into Sal's waiting tailhole. "Already?" he asked simply enough. The rivalry between them was friendly enough, as tribesmen...but Terryn rarely managed to best Tielo when it came to acts on the battlefield.

If he could outlast the more experienced warrior in the middle of a sexual act, he would still take it as a victory.

Tielo's grunts were growing thicker by the moment, but if he were to slow his pace, it wouldn't matter if he outlasted Terryn or not: as far as he was concerned, it wouldn't count in his favor if he wasn't giving it his best the whole way through, but his forehead was growing warm and his lungs burned as he sucked in deeper, labored breaths.

Resisting the tight, natural clench of Sal's throat proved to be the greatest challenge he'd faced in many years, and with the pride of the tribe on his shoulders, he'd give it everything he had before he gave the bunny a full, distended stomach.

As much as he couldn't express it right then, Sal would have been perfectly fine with Tielo taking as much time as he wanted.

Long before that moment, Sal had learned how to garner pleasure from all manner of sexual acts, thanks to his previous tutelage under Tsarin. Even the act of having his throat pushed to the brink gave him an empowering sense of sensuality and arousal, and being stuffed from both ends was a truly rare treat: like the finest of desserts, it was rare that he had a chance to savor the experience, but savor it, he absolutely did.

Though he wasn't quite as large as Tsarin, Terryn was plenty skilled enough to simulate that experience for the lucky bun, and as his thighs were pushed further and further back, he wondered if his knees would reach the ground before Terryn decided that he was reaching deep enough with his length.

The pliability of the warrior was just as impressive as his tool, and the way that he put both to use to give Sal an angle and depth of penetration that he'd never known before were a treat that was well worth the long, boring walk that he and Tsarin took to get there in the first place.

"Not...yet..."

Most of their words were little more than grunts, due both to their primitive language, and the utter bliss they felt as they carried on with their welcoming party. The atmosphere was much more festive by then, and with everyone seemingly on the same page, the only ones with any concerning intensity were Tielo and Terryn, competing to outlast one another.

Tielo's words were such a bold declaration that they drew the stares of everyone involved; even Tsarin cast his gaze in the direction of his friend, tough as they was to do with his throat still being swabbed.

The lions sharing the tiny, but entirely enduring rabbit were picking up their pace little by little, having offered him a certain mercy by breaking him in slowly. It was unclear if they'd done this at the behest of Tsarin, being the greater warrior of the two, but now that Sal had proven his mettle...they weren't going to keep on coddling him.

The force of two cocks impaling him from both ends was such that his eyes nearly bulged, but just before they could widen, he winced them and stole up his resolve, focusing on the pleasure of being so entirely stuffed with feline flesh, instead of the overwhelming pressure and the lack of easy breaths to be had.

All in all, it created an experience that bordered on alchemic, having a blend of elements that came together so perfectly, Sal didn't even realize that the precum spilling from the tip of his cock was thickening with each pass.

He was being made to cum without a single paw touching or grasping his length, but it was happening in such a fluid way that it would take a discerning eye to see it happening from a distance; as everyone watched the rabbit's fate unfold, only Terryn was truly privy to what was going on, and the sudden, extra resistance left him leaning over the smaller creature, grunting with a resilient effort.

For all of his braggartly nature, Terryn was the one on the verge of his climax now, and Tielo saw a window of opportunity to relax, letting the weight of Terryn's thrusts push the rabbit further onto his shaft, rather than fucking the rabbit's face directly.

Just going through the motions, he was able to close the gap between himself and his fellow warrior rather quickly, even if he was missing out on the wonderful, squeezing ride that Terryn was suddenly being treated to.

"Give in," Tielo urged him, seeing the veins that riddled Terryn's neck rising up to the surface. His grunts were deeper, to the point that Sal could feel their weight and vibration against the back of his neck, but neither lion was willing to give any quarter, as their intense confrontation carried on.

In the middle of it all, Sal was just hoping to retain consciousness so he could enjoy the long, drawn orgasm that left him a limp, hanging mess.

Tsarin would have been more concerned at the sight, if he didn't know the glazed look of joy that Sal wore when he was being given the ride of his life.

"Focus."

The word was simple enough, and it bright Tsarin's eyes back up to Simba as the leader of the tribe took control of the show once more. He wasn't so selfish that he had a problem sharing the spotlight, but until he was done being serviced, he wanted to hog the snow leopard and his focus, feeling a slack in Tsarin's technique the moment he looked away.

With the weight of Ruvus and his impressive member leaning into Tsarin once more, the foreign feline proved that he still had plenty left to give: he wasn't going to stop until the leader of the tribe was satisfied, but if he needed to prove himself to the entire council, he was more than capable of doing such...and all the more ready to back up those words, when push came to shove.

For the kind of volume that Simba was capable of, the pairings that happened naturally were a blessing in disguise. Sal was capable of more than he'd been given credit for, but even Tsarin was struggling to keep his throat from going sore around the impressive flesh of the tribe leader, and his precum carried such volume that the snow leopard could genuinely feel the weight of it on his stomach.

If it was any indication of just how much seed would flow when Tsarin finally broke Simba down and pushed him over that edge, he worried that such a flood might leave Sal distended...if the other lions didn't accomplish that, first.

As it was, Simba was still taking things easy on the pair of emissaries, wanting to prove that the lions were capable of the peace and goodwill that everyone hoped they would show. This mission of peace was so much more important than the act that was unfolding in the hut that evening...but, fittingly enough, an act of mutual bliss was the perfect way for the lions to how that they were sincere about putting the warring past of the felines to bed, permanently.

It would be a covenant signed in the mess that was building up around them, as the twin orgies continued to draw more curious ears up to the dry, hanging hides that offered a false veneer of privacy.

The number of villagers gathered outside of the hut would have been enough to make Sal self-conscious about his efforts, even when he was the quietest one of the bunch; he couldn't manage enough of a breath to do anything more than gasp and struggle against his impressive mouthful.

Those same deep, guttural strains were pushing Tielo back to his peak, no matter how hard he tried to resist the sensations that were coming. His playful rivalry with Terryn was the only reason that he'd lasted that long in the first place, but even that wasn't enough for him to keep up his endurance...much less the appearance that he wasn't about to pop.

Accepting his fate and embracing the pleasure of relaxing his body, Tielo finally caved and allowed the first gush of his seed to escape the tip of his cock. He was grinning wide enough that Sal was already concerned, but the lack of a word to warn him left the rabbit gagging; there was no amount of skill that could prepare him for the wiggling of such a heavy shaft when it began spasming.

"Drink...d-drink it!" Tielo growled allowed, ignoring the judgmental stare from across the rabbit's body.

He hated the idea of Terryn beating him, and worse than that, the lion was getting to enjoy his ride while watching his rival fail, but Tielo wouldn't allow that to ruin his moment.

Just seeing Sal's neck bulge around his length was a reward to be savored, but the way the rabbit was able to take the whole of his load and swallow it right down into his stomach was something Tielo had never experienced before...certainly not with such a small creature.

He tried to keep that grin in place, but it faltered as his hips, quivering with strain, stopped pumping and held still, giving Sal the first grace he'd experienced since he arrived. The weight of Terryn's body crashing into him from behind kept him bouncing delicately around the base of Tielo's shaft, and finally, when his sack relaxed and the last few drops of his cum found a home inside one end of Sal's tummy, a fresh load began emerging from the other end: Terryn didn't see a reason to hold back any longer, either.

Tsarin's ears twitched to the low, soft pap of seed dripping out from Sal's muzzle and landing on the dirt, marking the ground around his face with the mess of his accomplishment. Tielo was expecting the rabbit to break from the very start, but no matter how he pushed into the lapine's throat and hammered his face, Sal kept hanging on, until the lion in front of him was the first one to give in to the pleasures of the flesh.

Granting Sal a brief moment of relaxation, Tielo eased back and looked down, exploring the stretch of Sal's mouth and the tired, tender flesh of his lips. He knew he'd put the rabbit through a proper gauntlet, but he'd performed more than admirably.

His knees were sore, his arms were tired, his face was brutalized, and his tailhole was stretched too wide to be comfortable...but he was enjoying himself more than he could find a way to voice.

Sore as his throat was, he didn't think he'd be voicing anything for a while, but he looked up at Tielo, seeing his look of admiration and gratitude was returned by the impressed warrior.

The difference in their species made the evening a memorable one, and already, Sal was going back over the events that had transpired, but Terryn brought his mind right back to the moment with a fresh, deep gush of his own seed, flooding the rabbit's tiny backside and stretching out his anal passage that much further.

"V...victory..." the lion declared, gritting his teeth for only a moment longer; he wasn't content to stifle the sounds of his delight, as Tielo was. He was boastful enough to let out a thunderous roar, and those ears that were pressed to the side of the tent were left ringing as Terryn picked up his pace for a final time.

Sal's body was thrashed about, akin to a ragdoll in his state of overpowered exhaustion. Against the front of his slender tummy, a bulge was clearly visible, showing just how deep and full he was left by Terryn's advances, but he still wasn't giving in or begging for mercy. He whimpered, but the sound was muffled by the thick, messy load of seed that he was still processing in slow, full gulps.

Feeling the sheer force and warmth of more seed against the deepest reaches of his ass, Sal was right on the verge of giving up and crying out for Tsarin to come and help him, but he could see the snow leopard was in the middle of his own thrilling and enjoyable predicament, being speared on both ends by the leader of the tribe and one of his most trusted advisors.

To say that Sal was in heaven right then wasn't quite_the truth, but finally getting a proper break brought him that much closer to elation. His length was twitching and throbbing with thin, long ropes of his own climax, brought on by having his asshole fucked so perfectly; it was the last thing he could offer to the pair of warriors for giving him such a warm and _enthusiastic welcome.

A messy schlip followed Terryn's length as it began to soften, pulling back out of Sal's well-fucked backside. The messy river of seed that followed it poured over the rabbit's fur and _still_had enough volume left to make a puddle between his knees, and with a sigh of blissful relief, Sal dropped into the growing yield of his own mess, as well.

Terryn and Tielo curled up on either side of him and looked on, wondering what more they could possibly have in store for Tsarin...but Sal knew that his friend would be up to the task, no matter what ritual they required him to perform.

The idea of calling any part of their act a 'ritual' anymore was a genuine stretch of the word: the welcoming party devolved into an orgy right off the bat, but it turned out to be the perfect interpretation of welcoming peace into the heart of the lion tribe.

It was just good fortune that the eldest members of the tribe weren't there to see how easily and readily Simba had taken to his new, honored guests.

"Tough...k-kitty..."

Of course, Tsarin had taken just as much of a liking to the leader of the lion tribes, and in doing so, he proved his oral skills to be every bit on pair with those of Simba's most treasured cohorts. He was able to move his tongue in ways that Simba had never experienced before, and the curl of his long, warm muscle embraced all the way from the tip of the leader's cock to the base, swirling and painting the flesh with saliva all the way along and tickling the base of his sack once he reached it.

Doing that once was enough to push Simba toward his edge, but Tsarin had been bucking his head that way for a full minute, all while throwing his ass back at Ruvus and pushing the pair of lions to their proverbial brink.

His efforts needed to be rewarded, and thankfully, there was still one member of the council that wasn't able to join in on the fun, until Tsarin's hips lifted from the ground enough for him to sneak in.

So busy and enamored with Simba's length was he that Tsarin didn't properly notice the warmth and slick, velveteen texture of an equine tongue moving across his exposed cock.

"An offering," Jace whispered, as he collected the tip of Tsarin's length on his lips and kissed it. "To our guests..."

The potions master was content to sit back and enjoy the show for a time, and he was proud to see that his latest version of the herbal lubricant was working wonders on the bodies of those who tested it for him, but enjoying the show from a distance for that long would have worked up anyone.

Just sitting by and watching simply wasn't enough for him anymore, and servicing the snow leopard orally was the only way he could fit into the puzzle-like orgy that was nearing a head; he made it there just in time, knowing that Simba had already been pushed to the brink and back more than once.

The leader of the tribe had been going at the act longer than anyone else, and yet, he was still doing his best to outlast Ruvus, who was throbbing inside of Tsarin with the weight of his own climax. His hips were driving hard and thrusting deep into his fellow feline, but the snow leopard was trained well enough to take the impressive cock without much of a struggle, enjoying the treatment that he received from both ends more than they would have expected.

Their intentions weren't malicious from the start, but the lions were being humbled in the moment, expecting Tsarin and Sal to need a gentler welcome than the one they received: instead, Ruvus was dripping sweat and groaning with orgasmic delight as he tried to hold out for a moment longer...only to gasp in frustration and slap his sack hard against Tsarin's inner thighs.

Instantly, the snow leopard felt a familiar jet of cum gushing across his insides, and around his mouthful, he managed to grin...locking eyes with Simba and proving himself to be a match for the leader of the lions. He didn't dare to try and surpass the leader of the tribe in his own home, but he wanted to prove that he and Sal were worthy emissaries; describing their efforts as anything less than flying colors would have been an insult.

With Sal watching and smiling from the sidelines, Simba took a new appreciation for Tsarin and the connection that he shared with another species: if the snow leopard could show empathy to a creature that normally would have been his prey, certainly he could learn to empathize with the other felines in the valley and work toward a unified peace.

He didn't offer such in the form of a handshake or a contract being signed, but with the grip of his thick, heavy paws against Tsarin's cheeks: pumping his vicious frustrations into a willing vessel might not have seemed like an offering of peace, but the rumble bubbling up from the bottom of his throat wasn't a growl of dominance or aggression.

It was a satisfied groan, and finally, a roar of approval echoed throughout the hut as seed gushed down into Tsarin's throat, pushing right past the back of his tongue. The mess was so plentiful that even the experienced snow leopard had to widen his eyes in shock, but there was a strange way of determining the pecking order, when it came to the tribes of the lions.

Everyone watching was giggling and snickering, silently taking bets on when Tsarin would finally crack and spill over with the impossible load of the chieftain. To that point, there were very few creatures that had been able to handle the full, orgasmic load of Simba, and the idea that an outsider could keep up with him was easily pushed aside.

Tsarin, however, put up a better fight than most, and continued swallowing around the tip of a cock that was buried halfway down his throat, pumping the mess right into his stomach and leaving a bulge in his throat that even Sal was wincing at the presence of.

"Give...in...k-kitty..." Simba growled lowly at him, keeping a tight grip on Tsarin's face and pumping into it just as hard as he was tugging it into his lap. The entire display was messy enough to start with: saliva was dripping down from Simba's balls and falling across Tsarin's chest as he worked, but that was the only fluid leaking from his mouth as he continued to work, all while keeping a tight seal on the leader of the tribe.

He was being stuffed from both ends, filled with an amount of seed that no one should have been able to handle, and yet...he was performing admirably all the while, letting only a single trickle of Simba's mess escape his lips. The bead rolled down the front of his chin and across his neck, but that was all that Tsarin would allow: he stole away the rest of his resolve and took in a deep breath, until the powerful, rigid pulse of the lion's cock came to settle.

It was impossible to help some of the mess spilling back out as Simba broke that seal and pulled away, but even as he stood in place, trembling and panting, Tsarin was grinning up at him...and a quick flash of his tongue revealed webs of slick, mingled cum and spittle...right before he swallowed that down, too.

The emissaries were indeed worthy, and Simba, looking for purchase on the table behind him, couldn't be happier with the fact that they'd been sent on a mission of establishing peace.

Surely, it would take them more than one night to finish all the negotiations...but their night still wasn't through, as Tsarin continued pumping down into Jace's throat.

The equine had an advantage: his species was graced with a longer neck, making the task of handling the impressive members of the lion tribe an easy one for him. He didn't take that ability for granted, and usually, his throat was reserved for Simba and his unnaturally full loads, but he was more than happy to share his talents with Tsarin for a while, at the behest of Simba's gesture.

After everything that he'd been through, Tsarin felt that he'd earned the treatment from the equine, but he didn't want to appear selfish at any point in the so-called negotiations, knowing that his actions would reflect on the entirety of his own tribe.

They were count on him to appear as gracious as he could, and as Ruvus slipped back from his haunches with a long, spilled trail of seed, he picked up his hips and looked down at Jace with a grateful stare.

"...Your turn?"

It was tough, but Tsarin stood upright once more, his legs tense from kneeling for so long. Jace rose up with him, but as he did, he offered a shake of the head and leaned over the table, lifting the wispy hairs of his tail out of the way.

He'd already tested the herbal lubricant on himself, but he needed someone to push it further in.

"Your reward," Jace murmured, looking back over his shoulder with a friendly, inviting grin. "Please..."

Just when Sal looked ready to pass out for the evening, he was granted a quick view of the equine's member: it was the largest rod he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing, and he couldn't help a little greed as he crawled over, doing all he could to wrap his lips around the flared tip of the impressive length.

In the same moment, Tsarin pressed the tip of his messy cock into Jace's offered backside and penetrated him easily, moving with a slow and comfortable gait that revealed just how tender a lover he could be, when the opportunity was presented to him.

Working in tandem, he and Sal showed the kind of gentler generosity that the snow leopards were famous for in the proverbial bedroom...wanting to share their culture with the lions as much as they had done the same.