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This is a story that is very much filthy. There is a hell of a lot of scat, a fair bit of watersports, and all done to degrade two cubs. This was written as a...request...and does not reflect my tastes personally. All warnings, content and age, apply.

Also, sorry for lack of posting lately, been working on snapshot stories (1-3 page stories to go with a bit of art, $3.00 a piece) for a bit, and posting them on FA.

Anyway, to the story.

In the weeks after their incidents with Mufasa, Nala and Simba finally learned to leave the King alone in the morning. As bored as they were when the rest of the pride was asleep, there was nothing that they could do with the King that was worth what he put them through before getting up. Yes, playing around with Mufasa was something they enjoyed, but not at the cost of drinking down his pee.

Still, eventually they returned to doing what the King wanted. The two of them were the only ones up before the sun, and it didn't take them long to run out of things they could do together. Being quiet made it even harder to keep from being bored, and eventually, they were driven back to Mufasa and doing whatever he wanted to get him out of bed.

In the two weeks they had managed to go without bothering the King, they had slowly lost the little acclimation they had to the older lion's pee, and it was just as acrid, salty, and disgusting as it was the first time. Worse still for them, their tailholes had tightened up again, and when Mufasa started to pee in them again, they learned once more just how much it hurt to have something back there.

~~~

"That's it...just a little more." Simba panted softly as his dad stroked licked the back of his neck in an attempt to calm him. It didn't work; with his daddy's pee-pee in his butt, he doubted anything would. It hurt, hurt bad, and the hot flow of pee into his butt didn't help. It felt like everything was swishing around inside of him, the warm waves of pee sloshing back and forth in his butt.

And Mufasa hadn't even been peeing for very long yet.

In fact, Simba and Nala had barely woken the King up two minutes ago. As the loser of the wrestling game they'd played yesterday, Simba had obediently turned around and exposed himself to his father. Just like she had a few weeks ago, Nala had lathered his rear with lick after lick of her tongue. The strange, puckering feeling from before had returned with a vengeance, and he'd started moaning loud enough to force his dad to cover his mouth with a forepaw. He didn't know why, but he liked it when she licked him back there.

But then came his dad's pee-pee, and the good feelings fled. Mufasa's bigger pee-pee had pressed against his hole hard. The tip had forced his pucker in, further and further in, until it finally popped in. He would have screamed, except for the forepaw around his face, keeping him quiet, and he still got a bit of a yelp out before his dad had silenced him. He knew that his daddy was looking down at him with disapproval, but he couldn't help it. Something that big inside him - something bigger than the largest dumps that he had ever taken - just wasn't something he could get used to.

At least it was only in him a little ways. That much was something Simba could be grateful for, as an inch of pee-pee felt a lot better than more.

Still, that only meant that there was more room in him for his daddy's pee, which the King was taking full advantage of. His face pressed against the rocky floor of the den, he barely stifled his groans of discomfort as his insides started filling up. The gold water in him felt like it was swishing back and forth in his stomach, like it was pressing against the inside of his belly and pushing it down towards the ground.

Worse, it made it feel like he had to pee, too. With every squirt of pee that slipped up his butt, he felt like he needed to relieve himself more and more urgently. His pee-pee was slipping out of its hiding place, and a few drops slipped free before he could stop himself. "Dad..." he muttered, slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder. "Dad...I really gotta go..."

He was hoping that his dad would let him up, adjust himself; anything that would let him relieve himself without peeing all over himself like the last time. It had taken so long to get the smell out, and he couldn't take the humiliation of having that happen again. Already, the thought of it had his face glowing with a blush. "Please, dad..."

It took him a moment to realize that the flow of pee into his butt had stopped. The pressure was still there, of course, but he couldn't feel the swishing, rushing pressure inside of him that meant that more was coming in. Was-

"Nala."

Simba turned his head to look at his friend. She had been squatting beside him the whole time, but now she was on all fours, looking up at his dad. "Yes?" she said, somewhat hesitantly.

"Simba needs to pee. You're going to help him out." The King nodded his head at his son. "I want you to go underneath him, and put your mouth around his...pee-pee. When he needs to pee, you will swallow it. Do you understand?" he asked.

Despite his discomfort and his complaining belly, Simba looked up at his dad, and then at Nala, in surprise. Would she really do that?

He watched her look down between his hind legs, and despite the situation, he felt himself...twitch. That was the only word he could think of to describe it, as his sheath sort of pulled back, and his pee-pee slid out a little bit further. A short spray slipped from the tip before he got control of himself again, but he still felt it splash against his belly. Hot and pungent, it matted his fur down and coated him with his scent. Blushing worse than ever, he looked Nala right in the eyes. "Please..." was all he could say.

Nala held back for a second, then leaned forward. Her movements reluctant, she gradually eased under him. The twitch of her ears would have tickled his belly if it wasn't so full, and even as it was, he still felt a smile slip across his face at the sensation.

But it was when her lips parted and his pee-pee slipped into her mouth that he gasped at a feeling that was actually good.

He lost control of himself with that gasp, and abruptly started peeing. The spluttering sounds of Nala trying to choke down his pee, as faint as they were, were easily ignored in favor of the feelings he felt. Even as his father started peeing in his rump again, he relished the feeling of his friend's warm mouth around his pee-pee. Her tongue swished back and forth under it, pulling his pee back to her throat: when she swallowed, it felt like she was trying to suck his thingie too. In spite of himself, he pushed forward - not much, just a little bit. Just enough to push his thingie further into her mouth.

The further in it went, the better it felt. Nala's tongue licked over more and more of his pee-pee, and the only thing that stopped him from pushing forward further was the sound of her discomfort under him.

His memory flashed back to how bad his daddy's pee tasted, and he doubted that his own tasted any better. But he couldn't pull out. It would be much worse if he peed on himself now, as it was coming out of him faster and stronger.

More importantly, the good feelings he got from having his pee-pee in her mouth were the only things that let him stand the feeling of his daddy's thingie in his butt. Even with the pain going down as he got used to the thing in him, it still spread him wide open: the hot pee didn't help, either, as it sloshed around and burned his insides with its salty heat.

Slowly, he got control of himself, and waited for Nala to swallow each mouthful of his pee before letting out a little bit more. He would fill her mouth until he felt his pee surrounding his thingie in her mouth, and then hold it. When she swallowed, it would suck it all away. The rush of his pee going down her throat, and running against his pee-pee, almost made him moan. Perhaps the only reason it didn't was because of the way he pushed his head against the floor, muffling any sounds that he made.

Simba ran out of pee long before his dad did, and when Nala pulled back when he stopped going in her mouth, he didn't have anything else to focus on. His butt felt like it was full to bursting, and he could feel his stomach wobbling under him from all the pee inside. Even a slight change of position was enough to set it to shaking side to side, and with his butt in the air and his chest against the ground, he had little choice but to watch it if he looked back.

Finally, Mufasa seemed done. At the least, Simba couldn't feel anything else pushing into him. Good thing, he thought to himself. He would have burst if he'd taken much more. They were finally done.

Yet, why hadn't his dad pulled out yet?

The future king looked over his shoulder again, and noticed his dad was smiling at him. It was the same gentle smile that he loved, but in this situation, he felt a little worried. "Don't worry, son," he said, leaning down and nuzzling his mane against his bare neck. "Don't worry. We're almost done."

Before either cub could say anything to that, Mufasa turned to Nala and said, "Lay down on your back, Nala. Simba is going to need to get rid of all the stuff in his butt, and it's better that someone else swallow it than have it go all over the ground."

Simba didn't even have to look at Nala to know that she was disgusted by the thought of that. But what could they do? It was the King telling them to do this, after all.

"Think of it like a game, Nala," Mufasa added. Simba barely heard him, focusing on holding all of the stuff in him in until he was allowed to release it. The only thing keeping it in was his daddy's thingie, and that wasn't going to be there for very long. "If you can swallow everything that comes out of Simba's butt, then you don't have to do this again tomorrow. If you can't do it, you'll have to do it all over again tomorrow. Well, if you're the one that doesn't get my pee in your butt, anyway."

Simba heard Nala squirming around behind him, adjusting herself on the ground. He wished that he could turn to watch, but all of his attention had to be kept at his hole. Without his daddy's thingie in him, it was much harder to hold things in than he would have thought. Every little movement caused his daddy's pee to swish and swirl around, the still-hot stuff impossible to ignore.

What was worse was the feeling of something more solid moving around in the soupy pee in his butt. He blushed as he realized that his poop was floating free inside of him, and knew that Nala was going to be sprayed with that too when he let himself release. Or when it came out on its own, as it was still threatening to do.

He whimpered under his breath as his hole twitched, and blushed as some of the pee leaked down his leg. The strong smell of his daddy's pee soaked into his fur as the little stream leaked from his rump, down one hind leg, and over his hindpaw to the floor. It darkened his fur, too, which made it stand out all the more.

"Back up, Simba," his dad said. After nodding slowly, Simba slowly stepped back. Each little step opened his hole just enough for a little more pee to slip free, making more dark stripes down his legs and rump and covering his hind legs with more of his daddy's smell. Each fresh stream made him blush worse than the one before. Each time he stepped back, one or the other of his forepaws stepped into a puddle of pee. He winced at each wet splash, hearing it before he felt it soak into is paw.

He'd only taken about four steps before his dad told him to stop again. As he looked down between his front legs, he saw Nala's lower body. Her belly was almost pressed against his, and her hindpaws pressed into the air at either side of his face. From this angle, he could also see her pee-pee place. It was glistened, just a little bit, but enough for him to notice the difference from how it normally looked. Had she wet herself too, he wondered? It didn't seem likely, but it was possible, he supposed.

"Sit down, son," Mufasa muttered, and Simba obeyed. Swiftly. His rump slapped down hard on Nala's face, covering her muzzle and her face with his butt. Her squirming under him felt weirdly good, almost as good as when she was licking his tailhole to get him ready for his dad's pee-pee. He almost didn't want to pull back, but he did, slowly lifting his rear up again.

Nala gasped as he pulled back, and he turned his body around a little bit, forelegs at one side of her body so that he was able to look back at her without cracking something. "Are you okay, Nala?" he whispered.

"I'm...I'm okay," she whispered back, taking a few deep breaths to get her breath back. "Just...don't push your butt in my face like that. Not all the way down, just partway down, okay?"

Nodding slowly, Simba started lowering his rear again. He couldn't help but stop himself every little bit, however, just because he didn't want to make Nala get squished under him again. But every time that he stopped, a little bit of the stuff in his butt slipped out: it wasn't intentional - with his rear opened as wide as it was from his daddy's pee-pee, it was a wonder that he could hold anything inside - but he didn't want to make Nala all dirty, either.

Her quiet grunts of disgust filled his ears as he paused yet again. "Is right here alright, Nala?" he asked, wanting to look back but knowing that any movement would cause him to lose all control over his butt, and everything inside would come flooding out. "Do you want me to come down a little further?"

"Just...ugh...just a little bit," she said. He complied, lowering himself just a little further. His hind legs were starting to ache, the muscles burning from the way he was slowly lowering himself over her face. It would have been so much easier to just plop down like he'd done at first, but then he would need to pull his rump up again to make sure that Nala could still breath.

As he reached the spot where she could most easily reach his tailhole, Simba felt one of her forepaws bat against him. Pausing and holding the position, he waited until he felt her cold nose press against his butt before completely relaxing. The moment he stopped clenching, everything rushed out in a flood.

~~~

Nala's blush covered her face, easily seen through her fur. Her whiskers bristled as she forced her muzzle up against her friend's butt, her nose wrinkling at the messy smell that emanated from the hole in front of her. It wasn't just the King's smell of pee, either: there was just as much the smell of Simba's poop, and it was almost as strong, too. Combined, the smells would have been enough to make her gag. At least, it would have a couple of weeks ago. Even though it had been a couple of weeks since they had done this with the King, she still had a little bit of resistance to the complete filth of what they were doing.

Still, it wasn't enough to let her just shrug it off. Heck, it was barely enough to keep her from puking, and that was just the smell of what was waiting. She didn't want to think about how bad the taste was going to be.

But there was no way to get out of this, by this point. Maybe if they'd just let the King sleep, they could have avoided all of this. Even with how bored they had been, she didn't think that this was worth the fun that they would have later. She would just have to try a little harder to convince Simba that they should let his dad sleep.

Until then, she would do her best not to spill a drop of the pee that was about to fall on her face.

Closing her eyes after seeing Simba's hole start to relax, Nala opened her mouth. She was pretty sure that it was in the right place - she'd moved around enough to keep the little pieces of poop and rain of pee from falling all over her face, after all. In any case, the only way she'd find out was if all the stinky stuff fell out of Simba's butt and fell on her face instead of in her mouth.

Thankfully, she had picked the right spot. Everything that Simba had in his butt landed right in her mouth, and thanks to the way that he was laying over her, most of the pee just went right down her throat without letting her taste it. A small blessing.

Not nearly enough of one, though. Some of the pee still landed on her tongue. It filled her mouth so fast, despite her swallowing as fast as she could. Every time that she swallowed, her mouth was stuffed to capacity again with the acrid pee, barely giving her a chance to catch the slightest breath before she was forced to swallow and drink again from her friend's butt.

What was worst, however, wasn't the sheer volume of pee but the little chunks of poop that was washed out of Simba's rear and into her mouth by the pee. Half solid and half mush, they never slipped straight to her throat. They stuck to her tongue and to the roof of her mouth, forcing her to chew on them and break them apart to split them into manageable and swallow-able pieces that could fit into her throat. Whenever she was forced to pause and work on a piece of poop, it covered her tongue with its bitter, rancid flavor, and she almost looked forward to the next burst of pee that would wash away the taste, even for a little while. Even the taste of pee wasn't quite as bad as that of poop.

Because she had to pause to chew through the clumps of poop, though, she started to fall behind the flow of pee. At first, it was just a few drops that slipped out of her mouth and onto her muzzle, but as she started falling further and further behind, it turned from a few drops to a few streams, and then from a few streams into a whole mouthful splattered over her muzzle and head. Despite coming out of Simba's butt, it was barely warm now, and almost chilled her in the morning air.

And it just didn't stop. No matter how many mouthfuls she took, no matter how much of the putrid waste she swallowed, there always seemed to be yet another bit to take into her jaws. Nala almost cried as she swallowed pee and poop for the tenth time, feeling the pee around her muzzle starting to dry and harden in her fur. It was going to be so hard to wash out, but she had to keep going. If she could just do this...if she could just keep from letting any more hit the ground, she could swallow what she'd missed. Then she wouldn't have to do this tomorrow, if she couldn't convince Simba to leave the King alone.

Opening her mouth again, she waited for the next delivery of the hateful tasting stuff.

Except that it didn't come. Frozen in horrified anticipation, Nala slowly opened her eyes, half expecting to see a log of poop dangling from her friend's butt, just waiting to fall into her mouth, swaying from side to side as it hung by a thread.

Instead, she saw nothing. Simba's butt hole was just a little ways from her mouth, so the angle was a little weird, but there was nothing left pushing out of his hole. She could tell from the way that it stayed open that there wasn't anything left inside, either. No pee, no poop; nothing at all was left. And for that, she heaved a sigh of relief.

"You can get up now, Nala," she heard the king say. Wiggling back as fast as she could, the young lioness pulled herself back up to all fours, and wiped at her face with a forepaw. Every bit of her fur felt like it was soaked in the King's pee and the muddy poop from her friend's butt, and she wanted it off. Despite how hard she scrubbed herself, though, nothing wanted to come off.

Turning to Simba, she pleaded wordlessly for him to help, and he moved a little closer. Despite her stink, he leaned his head in towards her face, stretching out his neck to be able to reach her without stepping any closer. He licked across her cheek, once, twice, before gagging and shaking his head.

"That tastes terrible," Simba gagged.

Nala blushed. "I know, I had to eat most of it, remember?" Shaking her head, she went back to grooming herself. She knew that Simba had been trying to help, really, and if it had only been pee covering her face, it probably wouldn't have been that hard for him to help. Not appetizing, or good, but it wouldn't have been that hard. But she had her muzzle and part of her neck matted with poop, too, and that was a lot harder to lick up. She knew; after all, she was the one that had eaten a lot of his.

"You two can go to the watering hole now," the King muttered to her. "Clean up, and I'll be there in a little bit to play with you."

Simba's face shone with excitement at the thought of that, and Nala's wasn't much different, though she had a different reason for wanting to get the heck out of the cave and down to the water. She wanted this smell, this bitter, pungent, terrible smell gone from her fur before the rest of the lions woke up. As much as she hated it, she knew that her mother and the rest of the Pride would hate it more, and she didn't want to see their reactions.

Just as they were about to leave and head down to the watering hole, however, the King caught their attention by speaking up again. They both stopped and turned to face him again. "Tomorrow, if you decide to wake me up again for your playtime, one of you is going to have to eat my poop. I know that you probably don't like the thought of that, but I don't really like waking up early. If you want me to get up, you're going to have to do that." The adult watched them for their reactions for a little longer, then nodded. "Right. Now, to the watering hole. Like I said, I'll be there in a little bit."

Eat his poop? Neither cub liked the thought of that. Both of them trembled at the thought before turning to the den exit.

"Simba, I really hope that you learned your lesson," she muttered under her breath. She really didn't want to do this again...but somehow, she doubted that she would be able to get out of it.

~~~

Well, not only hadn't she gotten out of it, she was the one that lost the game again. Nala whimpered softly in the morning stillness, reliving the competition last night.

She hadn't bothered begging her friend to leave his dad alone in the morning. By this point, when he'd taken his daddy's pee pee into his butt like that, and filled himself up with me, it was pretty obvious that he would keep this up in order to get his play time. The best that she could hope for was winning their daily wager as to who would do the more disgusting thing with the King.

With that in mind, Nala had challenged Simba with a race. She'd lost to him in wrestling before, something that had never happened before, but she'd doubted that he could beat her in a run. After all, he was the King's son, and she was one of the lionesses. She'd learned how to run and hunt, even though she wasn't strong enough to do it yet. She'd been so confident that she would win.

Yet, somehow, everything had gone wrong. From the point at the start where she'd slipped on some mud, to a part in the middle where her paws had been injured on sharp twigs, and even at the end when she'd landed wrong after a jump, it was like something had been working to make sure that she couldn't win. Even so, Simba had only won by less than a second, pulling ahead of her at the last minute. It was scant comfort for her, knowing that she was going to have to eat the King's poop while Simba just had to deal with the pee.

They padded softly through the den, avoiding the other lions, keeping their steps as quiet as possible to keep from waking them up. Despite the need to be silent, however, Nala turned to Simba. "Please, don't make me do this," she begged in a hissing whisper. "Don't make me eat his poop. I don't think I can take it."

"But you lost the race yesterday!" Simba hissed back at her, his head bent low so that he whispered almost right in her twitching ear. "We agreed-"

"I know! But I thought that I would win!" They were almost to the King's resting place, and she didn't have much time left for talking. "Please, I'll do anything for you later. Any game, anything at all, just don't make me do this now. Please!"

"No!" He shook his head as they stepped around the last corner, and sat down on his haunches. His dad was just a little bit away from them now, but he still spoke in a whisper, since his mom was nearby. "You picked the game, and I was the one that won. You think that I want to eat his poop? I don't! Now, let's just get it over with." He turned away from her, and she followed him towards the king, her head hanging, her forepaws dragging with each step.

For a change, the King was awake and waiting for them. Nala looked up to see that one eye was watching them as they approached, and when they stopped next to him, he slowly stood up. Leaning first forward, then back in a morning stretch, the King nodded his head for them to follow him.

To Nala's surprise, he didn't lead them out of the den. Instead, the King walked them along a path that Nala didn't remember taking before. It wound further and further down into Pride Rock, instead of taking them up and out of it. It was starting to get colder as they went down, too, and she soon noticed the white puffs of her breath fogging up the air in front of her. She heard chattering, and she turned to see that Simba was shaking and shivering as they walked along, his teeth clenched. Despite the differences they had, and the argument they'd gone through on the way to the King, she felt sorry for him, and moved closer, pressing her side to his.

He smiled at her, pressing his flank against hers as they walked further down.

After a while, just how long she couldn't tell, the King stopped. He stretched again, yawning wide enough to show his teeth, before slowly laying down on his side. As he lifted one of his hind legs, exposing both his sheath and his butt, the King looked at them. "Which one of you is going to be eating my poop this morning?"

Nala hesitated for a moment. She still held out some hope that Simba would change his mind and let her get out of that, even with what he had said before they'd come to the king. She looked at her friend, her eyes begging him to not do this.

But Simba refused to meet her eyes, and nodded his head at her. "Nala is. She lost the race yesterday."

Eyes watering, Nala nodded in response to the King's look. Squeezing her eyes shut tight and blinking a few times to get rid of the tears, she opened her eyes in time to see Simba moving to his spot in front of his dad's sheath.

"Move to your spot, Nala." The King's hind leg twitched a bit, and her eyes were drawn to the little hole that lay back there. Despite herself, she couldn't help staring at it with some disgusted form of fascination. It...puckered at her, for lack of a better way to explain it. Little spots of brown and green covered the King's hole, drier spots flecking off of it and falling to the ground as it puckered. A little less to eat, she supposed, as she moved to her spot.

The King looked between them for a moment before speaking again. "I led the two of you down here because this is the deepest part of Pride Rock. This is usually the place where secret things happen, and this seems to count as a secret, considering how quickly you run off after we do this in the morning," he said, looking right at Nala as she blushed and nodded. "I thought so."

"Anyway, down here, there's no way for anything or anyone further up in the den to hear you. You can moan, or whimper, or do anything down here that you want. You don't have to hold it in. Just let it out. Now, are you ready?"

Nala slowly nodded a few times, seeing that Simba was doing the same thing. The King nodded back at them, and lowered his head to the ground. "Then put your mouths in place, and I'll start pushing my poop and pee out."

Her lips were pressed against the King's brown hole before he was done speaking. Some of the wetter, fresher pieces of poop on the little opening smooshed against her lips almost like mud, a very smelly mud. The pressure released the smell, made it stronger, and it wafted up the short distance to her nose. This close, it felt like the odor was scalding her nose, burning away the fur around it, but she kept herself glued to the spot. Pulling away would only make things worse, not to mention more difficult.

From where she was, she couldn't see Simba, but she could hear the soft gags and gulps that meant he was swallowing the King's pee. Half wondering how he was going to stomach the whole thing without emptying himself, Nala was forced to put that thought out of her head for the moment. She needed to deal with her half of the task.

She felt the King's hole opening under her tongue, and whimpered in anticipation of the taste. As she whimpered, though, the King spoke. "Nala." She flicked her eyes up at him. "Stick your tongue in my butt. Get used to the taste before I push the poop out."

Well, it couldn't hurt to try, could it? Even though she gagged at the thought of it, Nala slowly started pushing her tongue past her lips. The familiar rough feeling of her tongue brushed against her lips before it touched the slimy, filthy butt hole of the King. Even the first short lick was enough to tug some of the brown mess along his butt free, and it stuck tight to her tongue. She had to swallow three times before it came off, and the bitter tang of it remained behind.

And she still had to put her tongue into his hole. She could only imagine how bad that was going to be.

After taking a deep breath, she leaned forward again, her forelegs pinned between the ground and her belly as she locked her lips around the King's butt hole. Doing her best to ignore the harsh flavor of the adult lion's hole and the muddy, gooey feeling of his poop as her tongue touched it, she pushed against his hole. Her tongue strained, harder and harder, trying to force its way in. But the King's hole just wouldn't give.

It was only when he pushed back against her tongue that it managed to slip inside, and then she almost wished it hadn't. If Nala had thought the outside was bad, the inside was many times worse: while the outside had dried poop that slowly started turning wet from her spit, the inside was all wet without any effort on her part, and her tongue had slipped right into the middle of a piece of poop. She could feel it sticking to the top of her tongue, and the taste was inescapable. Had they been in the same spot as before, her whines and whimpers would have woken all the lionesses at once. If that had happened, she was sure that she would have died of embarrassment.

But down here, she could be as loud as she wanted. She could voice her discomfort as much as she needed.

Not that it helped her in the least. Her tongue was still in the King's butt, and it was still coated with that nasty poop. Even as she pulled her tongue out to try and wipe it off, the flavor was burned into her mind. She licked at her forepaw, at her fur, anywhere that she could reach to try and get the poop off of her tongue. Eventually, she had it off, but she still felt like throwing up.

Nala looked up to see Mufasa looking down at her, and she looked away as fast as she had looked up. "Nala."

"Yes, your Majesty?" she whispered. He didn't answer, and after a few minutes, she slowly pulled herself together and lifted her gaze back to his face. "Yes?"

"I know that you don't like doing this, but this is what you have to do if you want to play with me in the morning," the King said. He pushed Simba away from his pee-pee with a forepaw, and rolled himself to his feet. "Now, if you pull back again, you're going to have to do more than just eat my poop. Do you understand?"

She did, and she nodded to show that she did. "Good." The King nodded, and laid down again, this time on his back. "Simba, I want you to sit on my belly while you drink my pee. That way, you and Nala can look at each other while you do your tasks."

Simba crawled on top of the King, his hind legs kicking a few times before they managed to get purchase on the ground and propel him upwards. He squirmed back and forth to get comfortable before settling in one spot, his forepaws out on either side of the King's sheath, and looked down at her. Nala knew that he was waiting for her to get back to the King's butt hole, just like she knew that he wanted to get this over with as quickly as she did. Even with the need to get this over with quickly, Nala still had to force herself back to that stinky, rancid place.

Getting down until her belly rubbed against the rocky floor, she wiggled forward until she was lying right on top of the King's tail. It twitched under her belly, the little tuft of fur at the end making her giggle softly for a little bit. Just for a little bit, though; the task in front of her sobered her up almost immediately, and drove the laughter away.

As it was, her nose was almost pressed right against the King's poop hole, but she leaned forward just enough to put the end of her muzzle against it. Her mouth opened a little bit, and she stuck her tongue out again. Once more, it was covered in little dried flecks of poop, and she gagged as she forced herself to swallow the mess around his hole. If she was going to have to do this again later, she figured that she might as well make the place it all came out cleaner so that it wouldn't be as bad next time.

With how much was left covering the King's butt, it took Nala several licks to get it all off. Each time, it was a little bit easier than the lick before, but it never stopped being disgusting. The terrible taste stuck to her tongue, no matter how many times she swallowed, or how many times she wiped her tongue against her fur. "I'm going to need so much water to get this out of my mouth," she muttered softly to herself.

"It's time, you two," the King said. "Are you ready? Simba already did part of his job, but you still need to do a lot, Nala."

She nodded. "I'm ready," she said before leaning down and gluing her lips to the King's butt hole. With her mouth over it, the smell was reduced. Not gone, by any means, but reduced to something she could tolerate.

The only warning Nala received about the incoming flood of waste was a nod from the King, which she could barely see past Simba's body. The first log of poop slipped out of the King's rear, but slowly enough for her to get used to it. She could tell right away that it wasn't going to be small enough to swallow right away like the flecks that had been over his hole. The only way that she was going to be able to swallow it was...was to chew it.

Waiting until the grown-up finished pushing, Nala pulled back so that only a bit of it was in her mouth. Maybe about a third of the whole length, about an inch, just enough to be a mouthful. With a soft moan of fearful anticipation, she bit into it, breaking off a piece of it, and started chewing.

As soon as she took her first bite, the horrid, pungent flavor intensified. Just bad, at first, it was terrible now, and it was all she could do to keep from throwing up and spitting it out of her mouth. Only the thought of having to do something worse than this, more than this, helped her keep the piece of poop inside of her mouth.

Whining and whimpering, she slowly chomped the soft brown bite into smaller and smaller pieces. Each chew refreshed the taste, like it made it stronger again or something, and her eyes just wouldn't stop watering from it. It burned, and she could smell it every time that she breathed out, the poop smell carried along on her breath. It was sticking to her teeth, the almost muddy slop sticking between her teeth, where it was almost impossible to dislodge.

Each time her jaws closed down on the piece of poop, her throat clenched tight and what little was in her stomach struggled to surge up. When she tried to swallow some of it, it stuck to the back of her throat. It clung to her tongue and mouth like burrs clung to her fur after a run in the savannah, fighting with all of its might to stay in her mouth and poison her tongue with its foul flavor.

Nala struggled to force it down, but every time it seemed to go back a little bit, her body rebelled, and pushed it back. It wasn't just her stomach, but her throat, too, answering every gulp with a gag. It felt like the piece of poop was sliding in and out of her mouth, coming back up the back of her mouth and over her tongue before she forced it down again. Sickening as that feeling was, it was better than the feeling of choking when she couldn't get it to go down further.

Finally, she managed to get herself to swallow that piece, and bent down to bite off another part of the log. She chewed faster, hoping to get it to go down easier, faster, but that only made it more difficult. Eating it fast broke it down quickly, but it started oozing out past her lips, between her teeth, and she had to stick out her tongue to lick it up again, pull it back into her mouth before it could fall to the ground.

Almost crying from the terrible taste, Nala only hoped that Simba was having an easier time with his part.

~~~

Simba would have been whimpering if he had been given the time to do it. The hot salty taste of his dad's pee was almost worse than the feeling of it being inside his butt. It splashed around all over his tongue, and under it, too, almost like his dad was marking his mouth the way that he might mark a piece of ground when he walked around.

When he'd crawled onto the King's belly, his stomach had sloshed and rolled around. He'd already had some of his dad's pee, after all, before Mufasa had moved because of Nala's groaning.

Thinking about her, he looked down over his dad's pee-pee thing. She was gagging around some of the poop that his dad had pushed out, and he didn't really blame her. Even from up here, he could smell it. The bitter tang of it easily overwhelmed the scent of the pee that he was swallowing - and drooling, for that matter, when he couldn't quite keep up with the speed of the flow.

His chin dribbled with pee when he'd gagged on a particular strong splash of it, dripping off of his muzzle onto his dad's belly. He knew that Mufasa noticed, but he was glad the King didn't say anything. It was embarrassing.

As he tried to focus on the pee he was drinking, trying to make sure it didn't dribble anymore than he could help. It might be easier to clean off than the poop that was getting smeared over Nala's lips, but not by much, and the smell sunk down to the skin under his fur a lot easier, too.

But it was getting harder and harder to swallow more. He remained as still as possible, his daddy's pee-pee pushed as far back into his mouth as he get it. The tip of it pressed against the back of his throat, and the almost continuous flow of the pee down his throat continued unabated. He still had to swallow, but not as much as when just the tip had been in his muzzle. That had been a mistake, he realized, but he had hoped he could keep up with the stream without having to pull the musky, stinky pee-pee into his throat. Having it so far back made his jaws sting a little bit since they were held open so wide, and his throat kept trying to gag, to throw up, so that the big pink thing would get out.

Well, he was gagging from all the pee in his tummy, too, but it was mostly from having the pee-pee thing in his throat.

As the pee splashed against the back of his throat, it rolled back down. He could feel it flowing down his throat towards his stomach, the heat burning against the inside of his throat. It just felt so wrong, drinking some thing so warm, so salty. It almost...itched...as it went down, making it feel like he needed to drink more, even though his stomach felt completely swollen already. But if he didn't keep drinking the pee, it just felt worse with every dry swallow. So he kept his lips glued to the source.

How much more does dad have, he wondered to himself as he swallowed, the flow of the pee getting too strong to just let it flow down. Despite his gulp, it slipped back into his mouth and washed over his tongue. Again, he tasted the salty, acrid flavor, and it was all he could do to keep from shaking his head to get rid of the taste. It was difficult enough to stay still already, and if he pulled back or moved away, it was going to be impossible to get back to drinking.

Still, his tummy was rumbling badly, and he just wanted to stop. All the pee he was drinking felt like it was just building up and up, starting to go up into his throat. Simba knew that sooner or later, he was going to run out of room in his belly, and judging by the way things were going, that was going to be soon. He was surprised that he hadn't needed to pee again yet, but he guessed that his tummy just wasn't getting it to his pee-pee yet.

Thankfully, just as he felt like he was reaching his limits, the King stopped his peeing. He swallowed a few times before he realized that his dad was done, and slowly pulled back from his dad's pee-pee. It made his stomach rumble, knowing that he was finally done, but every little movement drove home just how full of that stuff he was. It was going to take a while for him to get his belly back to normal size, that was for sure. And he was definitely going to need to pee soon, too. His stomach was pushing down on his bladder almost painfully.

Taking tentative steps, he padded over to Nala, and looked down, wondering how much she had left.

She had been busy, he noticed immediately. Of the bit that he had seen his dad push out for her to eat, there was only about a bite or two of poop left. He wasn't sure there had been to start with, but Nala had definitely taken it down quite a bit. She'd be done in a jiffy.

Still...

He looked up from the bite or two of poop on the ground, and really looked at Nala's face. It was covered in brown from the poop she'd eaten, and her eyes were watering. She wasn't crying, because that would have cleaned her face off a little bit, but her eyes were watering, clenched tightly shut. This was really torture to her, he realized, and he felt bad for not helping her earlier.

"Well, better late than never," Simba muttered as he leaned down. He wanted to lay down, but his belly prevented it, keeping him from putting any pressure on it, giving him discomfort if it even touched the ground when he slouched down. It was mild enough that he could ignore it for long enough to grab the remaining poop between his teeth, but it was bad enough that he was thankful to be standing on all fours again afterwards.

Without even thinking about it - because he knew that he would back down if he thought about it for longer than a second - Simba bit down into the log of poop.

Everything that rumbled and bubbled in his stomach threatened to come up and out at that bite, but he held it back with a supreme effort of will. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks bulged before he swallowed down what little bit had managed to come back up his throat. How the heck did Nala take more than a single bite of this? And how the heck could he have let her do this on her own?

Nala looked at him in surprise, and he looked back at her as he slowly chewed his way through the piece of poop. All his concentration went into holding his stomach down and chewing. Chewing. Bite one, bite two, bite three, keep on biting, he thought to himself as he chewed. As focused as he was on keeping his stomach from erupting at the taste, he was able to forget some of it, not experience the dreadful flavor that burst along every one of his taste buds.

But he couldn't ignore all of it. The putrid taste of poop covered his tongue, every bite driving it in more and more. The softening mass started to get stuck between his teeth, and he had to stick his tongue between them and pull it back out, which only got him to focus on the taste again. It was so bitter that it was almost sweet, and he seriously wondered what the heck he might get out of playtime with his dad that was worth this.

But the thought was momentary and fleeting, squashed as he forced himself to swallow the poop he'd chewed. It stuck to his tongue, moving slowly towards the back of his throat, and he had to swallow again, and again, and again, to get it go move at all.

Even when it slipped into his throat, it didn't want to go down. It was like it was fighting to stay out of his body, to make him puke it out, and more than once, he almost did. The piece of gooey, slimy, chewed up poop just didn't feel right inside of him, and if there was any way, he would have just spat it out already. But he wouldn't give up playtime with his dad, not when they'd gotten this far.

Without something to help him, though, he wasn't going to swallow this. Try as he might, it had gotten stuck in his throat, and he needed something to drink to get it to go down.

He realized with a blush of embarrassment that he would have gone back to his daddy's pee-pee if he had thought there was anything left he could drink, but he had emptied that. There wasn't any water down here, either, and he wouldn't be able to leave and go to the watering hole until he finished eating this. That only left one option.

Barely believing he was considering this, he said, "Nala?" His voice was muffled by the stuff in his throat, sounding like he had his mouth full, but it was understandable, as she looked up at him. "Nala, can you...can you give me some...some pee to drink? I can't swallow."

She looked about as disgusted as he felt by asking that, but thankfully she also seemed to realize how he felt. She nodded, and he laid down on the floor, his paws pointed up at the ceiling. Nala moved to lay over him, press her pee-pee place to his face, but he stopped her before she could do it. "Don't lay on me," he said. "Hurt my stomach..."

Nala looked at his stomach, bulging and sloshing, and nodded. She padded around him until her rump was over his face, and she slowly sat down. Her little pee-pee place was wet - she'd probably wet herself earlier, considering all that she was taking in. It was all he could do to keep himself from peeing now - and it was partway open. Without the slightest hesitation, he darted his head forward and pressed his lips around her pee hole. He sucked at it, begging for the pee to come out. The poop in his throat had to go down.

At first, it was completely dry, and he wondered if there was anything there to come out. If there wasn't-

But thankfully, there was, and he gulped down the pee that spurted from her like it was the best water he had ever tasted. Salty, hot and pungent as it was, he felt like he couldn't get enough. Already the glob of poop in his throat was softening up, and soon it was washed away in the rush of pee down his throat. Gasping softly in thankfulness, he nipped at her lightly.

She didn't immediately get up, and Simba realized that she was making a few funny sounds. Little grunts and moans, almost like she liked this. But she couldn't. She was peeing in his mouth after all, and there just wasn't-

That thought stopped as though it had landed in quicksand. He had enjoyed her drinking his pee just yesterday, when she had been drinking right from his pee-pee. Was this something like that? Something where other lions licked, and it made the lion being licked feel good? He didn't know, but it was interesting.

Swallowing one more time, he rolled around and pulled himself back to all fours, though not without a groan as his belly continued swaying under him for a few seconds after he was up. "Is that...is that all?" he asked, looking up at his dad.

"Yeah, that's it," the King said with a small nod. "I'll meet you at the watering hole like usual. See you soon," he said. He loped out of the room, leaving the two cubs alone with each other.

Nala looked at him, and he blushed. "Um, sorry about that," he managed to whisper.

"Don't worry...Just..." She looked away. He noticed that her face was browned badly, particularly right around the lips. Probably the smell was strong enough to make her want to vomit; that, or she was just so burned out on the smell that she couldn't smell it anymore. Considering how it made his stomach roll from here, he guessed that it was probably the latter.

"Hey, Nala." She paused in her turn towards the exit. "Why don't...why don't you let me clean your face off a little bit, just so you don't have to smell dad's poop until you can get it washed off, huh?"

Her enthusiasm for the idea brought a smile to her face, and Simba couldn't help smiling back at her, despite how bad her teeth looked. The brown goo between them from her chewing up pieces of poop earlier hadn't done her mouth any favors.

Her muzzle was his concern, though, not her teeth. Stretching forward and keeping a grimace off of his face, he dragged his tongue along the side of her muzzle. At once, he tasted the greasy, putrid flavor of lion poop covering his tongue. It stuck to it, and he wondered if he was going to be able to get it off of her without throwing up. It seemed impossible, as he was already fighting his gag reflex.

On the other hand, that lick had already cleared away a lot of the brown in one spot. It wouldn't take too long to clean her off completely, and besides, he was doing it for a friend.

So he stuck to it. Eventually, his grimace showed, despite his efforts to the contrary, but he was close enough to his friend's muzzle that she wouldn't be able to see that anyway.

It was so vile that he felt the temptation to quit every time that he took another lick. Poop piled up on his tongue, sticking to it and growing into a larger and larger pile with every subsequent lick. Every time that it got too big, Simba swallowed, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, swishing it around in his mouth, everything that he could think of that might dislodge it and send it back towards his throat.

Nothing worked very well. The further back the lumps of poop got, the worst they tasted, and the more all-pervasive the tang of it became. Constantly fighting his gag reflex to keep control of his stomach and his throat, Simba struggled to swallow even a little bit, even the smallest bit to get the waste out of his mouth.

Eventually, he managed it, though it stuck to his throat all the way down. He licked a little harder at Nala's fur to cover it, but he gulped hard at the lump of brown, stinky waste. It clung to every part of his throat, trying to wrestle its way back up. His stomach felt like it had every intention of helping the poop out, too, surging upwards every time he gagged. And that happened more and more often as he got close to finishing cleaning Nala's face.

However, he never stopped licking, and he forced his eyes to stay open so he could look at her muzzle as it got cleaner and cleaner. He could just barely see that her tail was swishing from side to side in relief, comfort, and he heaved a sigh of relief. At least he was doing something that made her feel better.

Finally, he took the last lick, and pulled back, groaning and shaking his head back and forth from the ache in his belly and the awful aftertaste left on his tongue. "There...I think that's everything," he said with a shake of his head. After getting control of himself, he looked up at his friend's face to make sure that he'd gotten everything.

It looked like he had. The formerly brown fur was a tawny gold again, and the only brown that he could see was the bit that was still stuck between her teeth.

Nala grinned, and nodded towards the exit. "Let's catch up with your dad and get to the watering hole," she said.

"Yeah, let's," Simba said. He couldn't wait to get this taste out of his mouth, and maybe the water would help him get the poop down his throat the rest of the way.

She started running back up through Pride Rock immediately, but Simba needed to stop for a moment. After how much pee he had swallowed, he just couldn't hold it anymore, and he had to release, now. He was just glad that Nala wasn't around as he peed in a corner of the room, his little pee-pee throbbing as he finally let himself go.

The future king had to walk around the room, his pee stream making puddles in several corners before he was finally emptied out all of the way. Every bit that came out made his belly go down a little bit more, and gradually the pressure eased off, giving him a little bit more comfort.

When he was finally empty, he turned back to the way out and started hurrying. It wasn't long until dawn, after all, and he needed to get clean before Mom woke up.

~~~

Neither of the cubs walked very fast the next morning. Their pace was slow, measured, and reluctant as they followed the tunnels of the den down towards the deep room from yesterday. Even Simba didn't seem as eager as he had been, and Nala couldn't say that she blamed him. After being forced - well, perhaps not forced, but definitely more than encouraged - to eat his father's poop, he probably was as scared about what might happen today as she was.

After yesterday's work in getting the King out of bed and moving, neither of them had been up to a competition with the other. When Simba had told her that he didn't want to do anything like a race or a fight, Nala had hoped that maybe her friend had learned his lesson, and that they would leave the King alone from now on in the morning.

Instead, Simba had woken her up gently, and told her that the King was already waiting for them down in the bottom room. Knowing that her friend wouldn't let up until she came along, and that the King wouldn't just do this with Simba now, she had come along.

Now the two of them were padding along hesitantly through the lower halls of Pride Rock, out of earshot of every other member of the pride. Whatever the King had in mind for them today would probably be worse than any of the mornings leading up to this one, she was sure of it. After all, he had said that he just wanted to sleep, and he was making things more and more difficult for them so that eventually they wouldn't do it, and just leave him alone to sleep.

Were it up to her, she'd do just that.

But it wasn't, and now they were repeating their mistakes all over again. Nala swore that if Simba wasn't such a good friend, she would have wrestled him to the ground and kept him pinned until he realized how stupid he was being, future king or not.

"Are you sure that you want to do this today, Simba?" she asked in a whisper, barely louder than the soft padding of their paws with each step they took. "I mean, I still feel pretty sick from yesterday, and I don't think your stomach feels very good either."

"I don't know, Nala," Simba mumbled. He didn't look at her, either. Talking quietly and being this down was not like him at all. "I just know that dad said for us to meet him in the room again, and that we shouldn't be late. I was just glad enough that he was getting up that I didn't really say anything."

That was a surprise. Usually the two of them had to sneak up to the King and wake him up before starting their little 'games' to get him to stay up. The fact that he'd gotten up on his own and then woken Simba up was a major departure from what they had been doing, and Nala wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, the King was getting up early without their prodding, and that might mean that they didn't have to do as much.

On the other hand, he was probably getting really annoyed at her and Simba, enough to get up on his own and tell them to meet him down in the one part of Pride Rock that none of the other lions would ever come near, where they wouldn't be heard or noticed for a while. With the rancid taste of poop still fresh on her mind, Nala started feeling very, very afraid.

Their slow pace kept them from reaching the deep room for quite a while. By the time that they peeked their muzzles around the corner to look inside, the King stared back with an annoyed look in his eyes. "You took your time," the adult male said with a shake of his head.

Both cubs walked over to him with their heads hung low. Nala was the one that broke the ice, saying, "Sorry, your Majesty. I was slow to wake up and Simba had to take more time to get me awake. Otherwise, we'd have been down here a lot faster."

"I see." Nala forced herself to look up at the King. His smile assuaged her worry a little bit, and she smiled back, albeit a little shakily. The King looked from her to Simba, and back. "Well, you're here now, and no harm done. You'll just have to be faster at this, or you won't have a chance to use the watering hole before the rest of the pride wakes up."

That instantly grabbed their attention and held it tight. Being able to wash off at the watering hole was all that kept this bearable, since it kept them from feeling so ashamed in front of the rest of the pride. Cubs that they were, they were still expected to be past the point of getting themselves all messy with poop and pee. There would be so many lectures, so many talking tos, and that would take away from the fun that they would otherwise have with each other.

"What do we have to do?" Simba said before Nala could think to say anything else. "Come on, come on, tell us. We need to hurry."

His tone of voice made Nala turn and stare at him in surprise. The way that Simba was talking almost sounded worried, scared; something that she had never really heard out of his mouth. It was as strange as the bouncy young cub being all depressed while they had been walking to the room. Was he really as worried about this as she was?

The tone of desperation didn't slip past the King either, as he chuckled and started to circle the two of them. His paws and claws tapping against the stone floor were much louder than theirs, and it was almost intimidating to their ears. "Well, I am going to tell you something first. There are some new rules to our little games now, and you're going to have to obey them or we're not going to be able to play at all for a very long time," the King said.

Seeing that he had their attention, he continued. "There's not going to be any more pee drinking in the morning," he said, and continued right on before they could have a chance to heave a sigh of relief. "That's getting too easy for you. Even putting it into your tailholes doesn't even seem to bother you anymore. If I'm going to have a chance to sleep in during the morning, I'm going to have to do something that's hard for you. You're going to have to earn the chance to play with me, and I'm going to make sure that it's going to be as hard as possible for you to do that. Do you understand?"

Harder? Everything that they'd done so far had been pushing their limits as it was, Nala thought to herself. If this got any more difficult, they weren't going to be capable of playing with the King anymore. Was there really any point to doing this anymore? By the time that they were done, she felt too sick to do anything more than the bare minimum that she had to do, let alone play with anyone.

Yet, she found herself nodding her head in agreement anyway, just as Simba was doing. They had gone this far already, so what was another couple of steps?

"Good. I'm glad you understand that," the King said, sitting down on his haunches in front of them. For some reason, Nala felt her eyes drawn to the King's sheath, and she was a little surprised to see his thingie sticking out from it today. It seemed to twitch a little bit in the cool morning air, and it shimmered just a little bit too, like it was wet or something. Did he already go to the bathroom or something?

"Look at my face, Nala, not my penis," he said. Nala looked up with a blush. "That's better. Now, I saw yesterday how hard it was for you to eat my poop. Would you agree that it was more difficult for you than drinking my pee?" They nodded. "Then that is what you'll do every morning from now on, if you want me to get up. Any poop that I push out, you have to eat, or there won't be any playtime. Those are the rules."

"But dad, that's not fair!"

"You don't think it's fair that you have to eat my poop, Simba?" The King cocked his head to the side, looking at her friend. "Well, I don't really think its fair that you want me to get up and play with you every day before the sun comes up. If you want to do that, then you have to do this."

The two cubs fell silent. Nala wasn't sure what Simba was thinking, but she knew what was going through her mind.

How were the two of them going to handle doing this every day?

Well, there was only one way to do it. Taking a deep breath and gulping from some fear, Nala stepped forward. "How....how are we going to eat your poop? Are you just going to poop and let us eat it off of the ground, or some other way?" she asked.

"I'm glad you asked, Nala. You and Simba are going to lay down on your backs and keep your mouths wide open. The only time you shut them is when you swallow, and you need to swallow fast, because I don't think there's going to be time for you to use the watering hole to clean up. If you fall behind, you're going to get dirty. Really dirty." The King nodded at the ground beside him. "Go on. Lay down."

Because she hesitated for a second, she was a little slower getting into place than Simba was. He'd almost jumped in place, probably because he was so eager to get this over and done with so that they still had a chance to get to the watering hole. She didn't see the point now: if the King said that they wouldn't have time, then they wouldn't have time. It was as simple as that.

The rock was uncomfortable on her back, more jagged and pebbly than it was up in the main part of the Rock, but that couldn't be helped. She didn't even have time to adjust herself before the King stood and just as swiftly sat down over her face. His butt hole was right over her face. Despite the cleaning the day before, it was still filthy, fresh brown flecks dotting the pink skin. The hole flexed, moving in and out, almost like it was puckering at her.

As disgusting as it looked, its appearance was vastly better than the smell. Even though it wasn't quite touching the end of her muzzle, the potent musk of butt and overpowering odor of poop assaulted her nostrils. It burned, and she half wondered if her fur was disappearing from the scent. In spite of the situation, she couldn't help but think: I just cleaned this yesterday! How did it get this dirty again so fast?

But those thoughts had to wait. Already she could see the hole opening up, a solid piece of dark brown showing in the center of the pink. The first bit of poop of the day. With a final gulp, she opened her mouth as wide as it could go, and waited.

Time slowed for her as the brown spot slowly grew larger. The pink disappeared, overwhelmed by the end of the piece of poop sliding out. Nala found herself staring at it, her eyes crossing as it slipped further and further out. It was already the size of the piece she had chewed up first yesterday, and still slipping out. Was it going to be bigger? How much bigger, she wondered?

Slowly, it seemed to stop, just a little over half an inch bigger than the piece she had taken first yesterday. Even that little bit extra was going to make it almost impossible, she knew, and she almost closed her mouth in refusal.

But it was too late. The poop was already falling, and it landed in her maw before the thought to close it could even form completely, and the taste drove that thought out of her mind, replaced by the fight to keep her stomach under control and her throat from closing up in defense against the flavor.

It had landed halfway back in her mouth, lying across her tongue like a big fat brown bug. It was hard, much harder than the wetter pieces she had eaten the day before, and suddenly, the comparison to a bug felt much more accurate. The outside of the bite of poop resisted her teeth, and she really had to chomp down to break them down at all.

The taste of the waste was like the odor times twenty, she realized as she chewed it. Just biting into it seemed to increase the potency of the flavor, breaking it open so that the insides could spill out into her mouth and cover her tongue. More than that, breaking it apart made it sticky, covering her teeth and sliding between them.

Exponentially growing worse with every nibble, Nala was soon gagging, struggling to keep her stomach from erupting up her throat and making the poop slip out. Chewing on it was bad enough; eating it while it was covered in her puke was something else, and something that she didn't want to have to try if she didn't have to.

The young lioness panted as she chewed as fast as she could, working to clear her mouth so that there was more room for the poop that the King still had left. Even as she chewed, he was still letting more and more poop out into her mouth, splatting down over her lips if they were closed, landing on top of the mud-like mess sticking to her tongue if her mouth was open. Already her mouth was filled almost to capacity; if the King had more than a tiny log left for her, she would have no choice but to let it land on her face.

She stared at the next log as it emerged, the smell of it and the fumes slipping out of her mouth making her nose run, snot slipping down as the brown, slime slicked blob of poop fell down from the hole. She watched it fall in slow motion before it landed between her lips. She waited for it to fall further, to slip all the way into her mouth...but it didn't.

Going cross-eyed again, Nala looked down at the tip of her muzzle. Just barely poking into her field of vision was the tip of the King's log of putrid poop. Over half of it was still sticking out past her jaws, with no room to get into her mouth as it was. For a couple of seconds, she tried in vain to suck it into her mouth, but it just wouldn't slide in.

With her throat gagging and her stomach heaving, she realized she'd need to swallow some of what was already in her mouth to fit anything else in.

Trembling at the thought, she worked at it. Chewing a few times more, severing the bit of poop outside of her mouth in the process and making it fall down the side of her muzzle, she gradually ground the mess into something vaguely more palatable. Appetizing, no; swallowable, yes.

But with so much waiting to go down...could she even manage to swallow?

~~~

Simba watched Nala from where he lay beside her. Even though he was a couple of feet to the side, he could see how much poop was slipping from his dad's pooper to her mouth, and though he couldn't taste it, the odor was something that he couldn't help but smell. Despite yesterday's events, he wasn't used to the smell at all, and it wrenched his stomach around to have the source of something so vile smelling so close.

However, even with his stomach doing flip flops and his throat clenching around nothing, he felt sympathy for his friend as she chewed through the waste. Each little chomp was loud enough and nasty enough to make him wince in sympathetic discomfort. Every time that he heard another part of the hard poop in her mouth crack under her bites, he wanted to throw up: each time she winced and gagged, he wanted to help her somehow.

But there was nothing he could do, and besides, he was going to be getting his mouthful before long. He could tell that his daddy was almost done letting stuff out into Nala's mouth, though whether it was because she didn't have any room left or because he wanted to move over to him was something he didn't know.

The last log slipped free, and he stared as it stuck out of Nala's muzzle. It looked like she was sticking her tongue out, if her tongue was hard, brown and stinky. For a moment, he felt like he should laugh or something. Something like that should have been funny, or at least, it would have been before this morning. Now, it was just...wrong.

Simba couldn't look away as his dad slowly pulled out of his hunched over stance and stepped away from Nala, his eyes fixed on his friend's mouth as she took gradual bites out of the huge mouthful she had. Her face twisted up in disgust at what she was eating, and he couldn't blame her a bit for that. He would have been doing the exact same thing, and come to think of it, would probably be doing the same thing in a few seconds. The young lion just hoped that he had the bravery to keep from sniffling and crying through it.

The single bit of poop that was sticking out of her mouth slipped down her muzzle as she continued to chew, leaving a trail of brown before it landed on the rocky floor. Anticipating a command from his dad, Simba immediately leaped on the piece, closing his teeth around it and pulling it into his mouth, hoping that if he were fast enough he'd be able to avoid the worst of the taste.

It was a mistake.

As soon as his mouth closed around it, he had to struggle to keep from spitting it out again. The log of waste both stuck to and slid around his mouth, both slimy and sticky at the same time. Try as he might, it was too big to swallow as it was, and he was forced to start chewing it.

His teeth didn't have the power to break through the outer part of it at first, so he bit down harder, and harder, until they did. The urge to retch came back, three times as strong, and Simba was forced to stop chewing to make his stomach stay down. It rolled and surged up his throat, and despite all of his efforts, he dry heaved a few times and coughed the piece of poop back out of his mouth.

Rolling across the floor until it came to a halt at Nala's flank, Simba looked at it with both shame and anger. Nala was able to take a whole mouthful of this stuff and not puke it out: why couldn't he do the same thing?

"Simba." He turned to see his dad looming over him from behind. "If you're going to eat that for Nala, do it. Don't just spit it out."

The lion cub hunched down, his belly almost touching the floor as he slowly turned to face the slimy, spit covered bite of poop. Innocuous of a thing as it was, it still made him more afraid than anything he had seen in his life before. His dad's temper, his mother's hunting, the charge of the wildebeest across the savannah; none of it scared him as much as putting that thing in his mouth again.

"Do it, or lay back down, Simba," his daddy said, his tone telling Simba that he had to decide right now.

He didn't hesitate. Stretching his neck out, he gingerly picked the tiny chunk of waste up between his teeth, taking it away from Nala. As he laid down on his back again, he held it carefully, making sure that it didn't touch his tongue yet. Only when he was lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling again did he let it drop.

The taste came back with a vengeance, but since he was lying on his back, it was harder for his stomach to vomit it back up. He didn't know why, but that was the way it was. Chewing it rapidly to a consistency that matched mud, Simba shoved the mass back towards the rear of his throat. It fought him every step of the way, but whenever he thought that he wouldn't be able to do it, he just had to remind himself of one thing.

This was one piece that Nala wouldn't have to eat.

That's all. The fact that Nala would be spared from eating this bit, that he could help her out, even just a little bit, gave him enough strength to pull the portion of waste into his throat, and from there, it was only a matter of time before he could swallow it.

Yes, it was difficult, and it was a struggle to get it down. Every gulp pushed it down only the least little bit, at best, and sometimes it didn't go down at all. The slickness of when it had been in a full log was gone, and only the stickiness remained. Despite lying on his back, and being able to control whether or not he vomited it up, he still had to push to get it to go down. If there had been any sort of liquid around, even some of his dad's pee, he would have started drinking that, just to give himself something to wash it away with.

But there wasn't, so he had to swallow it dry. Trembling, he gulped repeatedly, as fast as he could. If he kept up that speed of swallowing, he was able to fight the gag reflex a little more, keep it from overwhelming his progress. It was almost...almost...down...

"Open your mouth, son."

Simba's eyes flickered open, looking up to see his daddy's butt in front of his face. While he had been working so hard to get the poo down his throat, his daddy had gotten ready to feed him more. He tried to protest, to say that he wasn't ready yet.

However, it was a wasted effort. As he shook his head from side to side, the hole was already opening, and the tip of another length of poop was starting to slide free. It was a lighter color of brown than the stuff that had fallen into Nala's mouth, and from this close, he could tell this was much softer, not having had the time to get all tough and rough and crunchy. Maybe he was going to have this a little easier?

It slid out and over his face before he could open his mouth. Flowing down the sides and top of his muzzle like mud, slow moving mud, it stained his fur before his eyes. He watched, cross-eyed, as the bit on top of his muzzle slid further and further down, pleading that it wouldn't land near his eyes, or slip into them. It would hurt so bad, and stink so much, and he was sure that it would never ever come out. Please, please, don't go into my eyes, he begged in his head.

Thankfully, it didn't. It slipped between his eyes, moving over the top of his head, over the spot where Rafiki had marked him so very long ago. Though grateful that it hadn't landed in his eyes, Simba was annoyed at the way it stuck to his fur and matted it down. It felt almost like he had gotten a bath in mud, or slipped and fallen in it anyway.

He forced himself to forget about that for the moment, and opened his mouth. The next semi-solid segment of poop landed right on his tongue and sloshed around, splatting under it a little bit. There were solid chunks in it, but it was all surrounded by a slick slime and poop mix, just solid enough to hold together as it fell, but breaking apart as soon as it hit something. This time, it was his tongue.

Hacking in protest at the taste, Simba tried to force the poop mess towards the back of his throat, knowing that he didn't have long before the King started pushing more and more of it out. It was harder, much harder, doing it with his mouth open, but he couldn't afford to let anything else fall on his muzzle. Dirty as it was, he still had a chance of getting it cleaned off before they got to the water hole, if he could convince Nala to help him. If it got dirtier, he doubted he would be that lucky.

So he chewed and he pushed it back with his tongue. Some of it was left behind under his tongue, but he would get back to that later. Right now, he was racing to get it down, as well as the bit already in his throat. More poop was already starting to show as his daddy's tailhole started opening again, and he didn't have a lot of time left.

Whimpering under his breath, Simba gulped as hard as he could. Despite being liquid, the new poop barely moved in response, slipping down and getting stuck, slipping a little more, then getting stuck again. It repeated the process every time that he swallowed, and soon was pressed against the more solid piece that he had tried to swallow earlier.

Feeling like he was choking, Simba finally came up with an idea. It was gross, gag-worthy, and something that he never would have thought to try without being in this situation. If only the darn stuff would go down, then he wouldn't have to do this.

Trying and failing one last time to swallow the poop in his throat unassisted, Simba gave into the other option.

His pee-pee twitched, once, twice, before spurting golden pee right at his face. Turning his head just a little bit, he let some of it land in his mouth, just enough to swish around. The taste was salty, and distasteful, but it was far preferable to the waste already in his throat and about to fall in his mouth. Tilting his head back again, he swallowed hard

The pee worked perfectly, flushing over the blockage in his throat and washing it away towards his stomach, which grumbled at what he was putting into it. But it would have to deal with it. It wasn't going to stop soon.

Slowly, he opened his mouth again, just in time to receive another, larger chunk of the King's poop. Just like before, it splattered all over his mouth, covering his teeth, the insides of his cheeks, his tongue, everywhere. The taste pervaded his mind, shutting out the sensation of anything else, and he just wanted to whimper and cry from the way it made him feel.

Simba forced those thoughts down. He couldn't cry. He might whimper, but he couldn't cry: he was the future king, and if Nala wasn't going to cry, he wasn't going to either.

That didn't mean it was going to be easy. The small lion sniffled a bit, the smell of the poop thankfully overwhelmed by the taste of it, for the most part - enough of it was there for him to get a brief whiff of the bitter tang of it before he caught control of himself - and slowly blinked away the water in his eyes. He could get through this. He could.

Again, there was a small pause in the flow of poop after Simba's mouth reached the point of being full. His daddy wasn't empty yet, since he was still making the sounds of trying to push more out, but he didn't have more to put out just yet. Simba took the chance to bite down into the mass of waste, gradually breaking it down. His tongue burned from the flavor, and he wanted nothing more than to spit it all out and get out of here, but he just couldn't. Not if it meant leaving Nala down here, and not if it meant disappointing his dad.

Disappointing his dad...he wasn't sure why spitting this all out would disappoint him, but he was sure that it would. So he wouldn't.

With most of it liquid, the pile of poop was easier to push back towards his throat. He was inured to the taste enough by now that his gag reflex was starting to die down, so the only difficulty was the actual swallowing, keeping the poop from sticking to his throat long enough to get it down to his stomach.

That was easier, too. As he swallowed each segment of the pile in his mouth, he squirted a little more pee into his mouth to wash it down. It made him feel utterly disgusting, totally horrible, particularly since he was sure that Nala was watching him, but it was the only way to make sure that everything went down fast enough. He was half sure that some of the mess on his muzzle was starting to fall off, too, when he didn't aim quite right.

When it did land in his muzzle, it helped wash down the poop much easier. It only took a little bit, just enough to be able to swallow, and it slicked up his throat and the poop inside enough to get it to slide down. Yes, the King gradually started adding more to his mouth, and he had to start over, but now that he had this figured out, it was much easier. He didn't even taste the pee, too, since his tongue was so covered in poo.

With a loud fart, powerful enough to blow his whiskers back a little bit and leave them browned with the tiny flecks that accompanied it, his daddy slowly stood up again. For a second, Simba thought that they were actually done.

Instead, it seemed that it was just Nala's turn again, and Simba watched as the King walked the few short paces to where his friend was laying down with sympathy for her.

~~~

Nala had moaned and whimpered almost the whole time she'd worked on her mouthful, both out of personal misery and because of how she felt about what Simba was enduring. Since he swallowed faster, opened his mouth quicker, he was getting more of the King's poop than she had. From what she could see, it was coming out faster, and wetter, and she could smell that dump over everything that was already in her mouth. All the wet poop must have been worse than the dry, hard stuff in her mouth.

And that was bad, there was no getting around it. Even though she watched Simba with sympathetic eyes, she couldn't stop chewing on the stuff that the King had left in her muzzle. It was crunchy as a beetle with a sun hardened carapace, and was nearly as difficult to bite through at times. Her teeth were completely coated with the rancid substance now, and it would take so much water to wash it all away, because her tongue just wasn't doing the job anymore. Every time that she pressed it against her teeth, trying in desperation to feel for the sharp points, all she could find was the thick, grainy poop that stuck into every crevice that her mouth had to offer. She wasn't even certain where the poop ended and her teeth began any more.

Whimpering softly, she threw her head back a little further, stretching it out and swallowing. Most everything was in her throat by now, and it was slowly starting to go down. She could get it down before the King was done with his son, or so she hoped. Otherwise, she'd have little choice but to take the next load on her muzzle.

Closing her eyes from the strain, Nala tried to push her throat to swallow harder. Her stomach was quiet enough for what was in her throat, but the struggle refused to abate, no matter how much she prayed or begged. Every swallow budged the massive chunk of half chewed poop barely enough for her to notice, and she was running out of time.

It was getting hard to breath, too, with that much in her throat. Half convinced that someone could see the bulge in her throat by now, Nala reached her forepaws up to her neck, pressing at it.

Almost instantly, some of the pressure abated. Gasping in fresh air that was instantly polluted by the piece still in her throat, Nala pushed down again. The pressure hurt, but it was working: the pressure of her forepaws was getting the poop to get down. There must have been much more in her throat than she had thought for it to have actually worked.

She swallowed in time with the pressure she applied, and gradually opened up her throat again. Air flowed easier down her throat, and she opened her eyes in relief, glad that was over.

As soon as her eyes were opened, however, they caught sight of a wet length of poop falling at her. It landed right between her eyes, lying between them almost like a snake. It even slipped down like a snake might, slithering, slow, and cool against her fur. And it stunk. Oh, how it stunk.

Another piece fell down before she could open her mouth, and the two chunks seemed to flatten one another out as they hit. While the logs earlier would have either stayed where they were or fallen off of her face entirely, these two pushed against her fur, matting it down almost like a mud mask. Sticking to her muzzle and forming to its shape, it felt...oh, she couldn't describe it.

Farts followed, wet and loud, but with her nose half plugged with poop as it was, she couldn't smell the doubtlessly foul gasses that were slipping from the King's gaping hole. Drawn to it despite her disgust for it, Nala looked into the pink depths of the King's butt hole, unable to understand how so much poop could come out of something that small. Well, not small anymore; now it was almost as wide as two of her paw toes put together, and she could see the poop slowly sliding towards the edge.

She opened her mouth instinctively to catch it, hoping that she was able to keep anything else from being added to the poop mask that was covering her face. Thankfully, she was able to catch it on her tongue as it fell, and thankfully, it was just a small piece compared to the two that had landed on her face, not even worth mentioning in comparison to the ones that had come down the first time either.

But the taste...

Without the covering that had sealed it off before with the hard pieces, the putrid flavor of the poop was free to flood her mouth before she could prepare herself for it. She gagged, almost bending forward to throw up-

Only to be forced back down as the King's next piece slipped out and slipped past her lips, the extra weight from that one forcing her head down and keeping the previous piece in her mouth. Her muzzle was filling up fast, but she still had to fight to remind herself that she had to swallow this, that she couldn't throw it up. That would be losing, and they would have done this all for nothing.

So, she held herself down against the rocky floor, swallowing and gagging as the slick poop slid down, then got pushed back up by her gag reflex. Several times, she started drooling the slimy, muddy poop, and had to suck it back into her mouth the way a cub had to slurp up loose meat. It was disgusting, degrading, and it made her feel humiliated.

But she did it anyway. For Simba, for his need to be with his father, and for the King, who was telling her to do this; that was why she did this.

Didn't mean that she liked it, though, and Nala felt more than a little jealous of her friend as she watched him pee into his mouth, washing down some of the poop that was still in his throat. She wished that she could do that, even if only for a little bit. Watery as the poop in her mouth was, it still had enough stick to make it difficult to swallow, even disregarding the nasty taste and texture.

And the King never stopped pooping. Yes, there were times when he was stopped, almost seeming to run out, when he blasted her nose with farts that she could just barely smell, but they were always a temporary break. The poop always returned, and the only time she was able to get a break to swallow, and when needed, press her forepaws to her throat, was when the King stood up and shook his rump. He would always pause, hold still, and then squat down again. Probably checking to see if he had anything left in his rump, Nala realized after he did it a second time.

At least when he did that, it meant that there wouldn't be that much left. He had done it a third time, and squatted down again. Holding her mouth open took all of her will, and Nala prayed that the King had finally run out.

It seemed that something had heard her prayers, because the King stood up after flexing his hole a couple of times. Shaking his rump and forcing some dried pieces of poop off of it in the process, he walked over to the exit of the small room. "Well, I'm done now. I'll be waiting at the waterhole for you, after you've finished cleaning each other. Or you can try to race all the way to the water hole and hope that the rest of the pride doesn't see you. It's your choice."

He started to walk away, and then stopped himself again. Turning to face them, he said, "Oh, and I would suggest that you hold back your poop today. I know you'll probably really need to go after eating all of that, but you need to hold it. It's going to help you tomorrow, I think."

As the King walked away, leaving the two of them, Nala slowly pulled herself to all fours, and looked at her friend. His face wasn't quite so covered as hers were, but it looked like he had cheetah tears under his eyes and the side of his muzzle. It would have been comical, if she hadn't known what had made him look like that.

"Nala?" he asked as he stood as well. "Um...do you want me...to lick some of that stuff off? It really doesn't look good..."

She had no doubts about that. She probably looked really ugly, with all the poop that had fallen on her face when the King had come back to her. With everything that had happened, she had expected for Simba to just leave her face alone and run to the water hole. After all, he wasn't as dirty as she was, and could probably make it without as much embarrassment. Yet, he stayed back and offered to help her, no matter how disgusting he must find it. "Thank you, Simba...I'd like that," she said quietly.

Closing her eyes as he leaned in, she felt his tongue slip over the poop mask that covered her muzzle and head. Every lick of his tongue was followed by a grunt or a gag, but he didn't stop. At one point, she heard him gag, and then heard a splash of something. The smell somehow overwhelmed the smell of poop, and she gagged as she realized that it was puke. After that, she was surprised that Simba would come anywhere near her again, but just a second after he had vomited, he was right back to licking the poop off of her face.

It continued for nearly ten minutes before she was completely clean, or at least clean enough for her to risk going past other members of the pride to the watering hole. Nala opened her eyes and turned to Simba, planning to thank him for doing that.

She stopped before she could get even one word out. The few lines on his face were joined by a set of pure brown over his lips, completely covering his mouth. Had he licked that much off of her? She hadn't thought there was enough room on her muzzle for that much to stick.

Nala hesitated for a moment. He had a lot of poop on his face, and she had been the one that had to eat more of it when the King was here. Simba licking her face clean had just evened the score between them, and there wouldn't be any real need to clean off his face now, was there? Looking at her friend's face, she knew that it would take her just as long to clean him as it had taken him to clean her.

Sighing, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Simba's, gently biting off some of the gathered poop and pulling it down her throat. She barely gagged this time. Hardly surprising, really, considering how much she forced down earlier. It slid down to her tummy...well, not slid, but it went down.

Cleaning it off except for a few chunks here and there, Nala looked towards the exit. "Um...I know this is going to sound disgusting...but...what would you think-"

"We should go get some pee to drink from my dad?"

Nala looked at her friend in shock: not that he suggested that, but because he had said what she was about to say. He shrugged, and said, "I was thinking the same thing. The watering hole is a little too far, and, as bad as his pee is, it's not going to be as bad as carrying the poop around all day. Let's hurry."

She nodded, and they took off down the tunnels again. Or up them. It was a little hard to remember that, sometimes. Shaking her head, Nala led the way back to the King, glad that this morning was over, but worried about what tomorrow would bring. What would holding back their poop do to help them tomorrow?

She really didn't want to know.

They managed to get past the lionesses without any problems, thankfully. They were still waking up, and they weren't paying as much attention to the cubs as they would be later in the day. The most they got from the hunters was a muttered grunt, or a 'watch where you're going' when they bumped into someone.

After that, it wasn't hard to get down to the water hole. They plopped down at the edge of it, panting from the run before leaning down to the water.

And froze. They realized that if they drank from the watering hole, they would leave a lot of poop behind, and the pride would wonder where it all came from. They might even drink it, before they realized what it was that they had in their mouths. They couldn't do that, or let that happen.

"Well, you took your time, didn't you?" Nala turned to see the King waiting for them, and blushed a little bit. "Ah, I see you cleaned your faces off. Didn't taste very good, did it?"

That was a stupid question, but it was the truth, she supposed. Looking down in between the King's legs, she opened her mouth to ask the question.

Simba beat her to it. "Dad?" he asked. When the King looked at him, he continued. "Do you think we could have a little bit of your pee? We..we can't really drink from the watering hole with all the poop in our mouths, and I'm out of pee to wash stuff out of my mouth...Do you mind?"

It seemed to surprise the King that they were asking him this, but he nodded, stepping forward and spreading his hind legs enough for his sheath to dangle down towards them. Nala looked at Simba, asking for permission to go first, and he nodded. More eagerly than she would have liked, Nala stepped forward and pressed her lips to the edge of the sheath, pulling the King's thingie out into the open with her lips.

Almost as soon as it was in her mouth and out of the sheath, Nala felt the King's thingie spitting pee into her mouth. It was salty, hot, and thin, but it was better than the poop taste, and it helped what was left on and between her teeth get washed down her throat. She sucked at it thirstily, swallowing it with a vengeance.

She blushed as Simba was forced to move her out of the way so that he could ge this turn at the spout. It had been very difficult to pull away there, and she almost wished she hadn't. There was still some poop in her throat, and that had been making it go down a lot smoother than anything else had.

Watching as Simba worked on clearing his mouth and teeth out, Nala shook her head. They were starting to get used to this kind of filth, she could tell. Just a few weeks ago, there would have been no way that she wouldn't have been repulsed at what she was seeing: now, she just took it as a matter of course and pragmatism. How else were they going to get all this poop out of their mouths without polluting the watering hole?

They were changing with this, and she didn't think it was for the better. And why was the King smiling like that as Simba sucked down his pee from his thingie? She really wanted to know the answer to that.

~~~

The next day dawned to find Simba and Nala wandering down to the lower room again. Neither of them could bear to lift their heads from the ground. With the many different thoughts clashing in their heads about what might wait for them, it was understandable that they didn't want to look ahead, couldn't lift their heads with pride. Who could be proud after what they had gone through for the last few days?

And there was still the mystery of what awaited them in the bottom room today. Yesterday had left the two of them with stomachs aching with fullness and rancid contents. If today would be worse, Simba wasn't sure he would be able to do anything.

His stomach rumbled, and his tailhole puckered before he focused on clamping down. He had followed his dad's order yesterday, and had kept from pooping. So had Nala. The result was that the two of them needed to go really badly, and neither was sure how long they would be able to hold it back. Even now it pushed to be let out of his rear, and it made his tummy hurt to keep holding it in.

Today, he hadn't even gone near his dad. Mufasa had woken him up, and reminded him that they were supposed to meet in that room down at the bottom of Pride Rock. So, he'd gotten Nala up, and now they were on their way. He didn't even want to play with his dad that much today, and he was still doing this.

That thought almost made him pause, but something kept him walking. Why was he doing this, if he didn't want to play with his dad? Just because the King said so? Was that the reason? It might be, he supposed, but part of him wondered why she blindly followed the King's orders. After all, just because he was the King...well yes, it meant that he could order whatever he wanted, but where was the line? Where did the commands stop being reasonable and start being things he could ignore, or even deny?

He supposed that he would have to find out when the order came, because he couldn't find the will in his heart to resist this one.

~~~

Mufasa waited for them in the large room. He paced back and forth in the center, arguing with himself in his head. Part of him was disgusted with what he was putting the cubs through, utterly horrified at his actions. The other part, the voice of which was growing louder and more insistent by the day, was taking a lot of pleasure out of the disgusting things he was forcing the cubs into. Yesterday, seeing his son and Nala come to him and ask - ask! - to drink the piss from his cock was enough to make it want to slip free without the slightest extra help.

He'd managed to hold back, of course. Barely, but he'd managed it. It wouldn't have done to show the cubs how much he liked this, on the off chance that they understood what his member sliding out meant. They might have gone telling to one of the lionesses, despite their embarrassment, or worse still, gone to his brother. If Scar found out about this...well, that would mean difficulties.

Belly growling at the load that it needed to release, he looked up the tunnel Nala and Simba would come out of. They were coming down here on orders now, rather than on their own volition, but that didn't matter to him anymore. So long as they came, it was fine.

The King wasn't sure where he had crossed the line from having the cubs come to him with their games to wake him up to making them come to him for his pleasure. Oh, he had been rationalizing it for a while, even yesterday, but this morning, he realized what he was doing.

He was calling the cubs to him to satisfy the urges that none of the other lions would do. Oh, he could stuff their pussies or tailholes if he wanted, and he did, but none of them would lie down and let him take a dump on their face, or willingly open their mouths to allow him to pee in their mouths. It was beneath their dignity, and they were quite right to say so.

The cubs, on the other hand, would do whatever he told them, and willingly, just because he was the King. If he said that they were supposed to eat up all of his waste, then they would do it. If he said that they were supposed to lick each other clean, they would do it. For that matter, they'd started doing that without him having to instruct them at all. When he'd seen that the first time, he had been most surprised, almost as surprised as when Simba had leaned down and swallowed some of his poop that Nala had dropped. Yes, the two of them were coming along nicely...

Sometimes, he contemplated putting his cock into their tailholes again, like he had done a while ago to ensure there was less spillage with cubs. They were tight, hot, and better than anything he could get from the lionesses. They were too grown, too open for him now: the taste of a cub hole was something that had whetted his appetite for something more.

But that would have to wait. Right now, he could still get regular sex from his lionesses. He didn't want to waste his time with the cubs doing something he could always do later.

His head jerked up as he heard the sound of paw-steps down the tunnel. Too light to be the rest of the pride, so it would have to be the cubs. Excellent. He hoped that they had followed his instructions, or today's task for them would have to wait.

Taking a deep breath to make himself calm down, and thinking about several unsavory species out on the savannah - hyenas, yes, think of the hyenas - to calm down his member and make it go back into his sheath, Mufasa sat down in the center of the little room. He had to present a good image.

He was the King, after all.

~~~

Simba was the first to step into the room, and he had to literally force his head up from looking at the ground to be able to look his father in the face. His daddy was sitting in that same proud manner of his in the center of the room, like he had been ever since they'd started coming down here, and had that same smile that he had been wearing for a while. It was starting to make him a little worried to see it, even later in the day when his dad was just playing around with them.

He did seem to be giving the two of them a lot of looks to the rear, though, which was weird. Simba didn't know why the King would be interested in his butt, or in Nala's. They weren't big enough to wrestle with him like he did with the lionesses sometimes. It was just another mystery to him.

Walking forward after nudging Nala to get her to look up, Simba made his way into the room. He stopped right in front of the King, sitting down and groaning once as his stomach protested again. Boy, he really needed to go. "What...what did you want us to hold back our poop for today, daddy?" he asked. His stomach rumbled loudly, enough to be heard by both Nala and the King.

"Well, Simba, there's something that I want you and Nala to try today," he said. The King stood to all fours, his tail swishing behind him as he padded forward. He circled them again, his heavy footfalls the only sound as he fell silent. Simba followed his dad's pacing, watching him as he walked around the two cubs.

The silence stretched on and on, and the longer that it lasted, the more that his belly hurt, and the harder it was to hold in his poop. It was already pressing against his hole, and he wouldn't be surprised to see a brown mark against the stone when he stood up again from how much it wanted to come out. Please, he begged, let his daddy say what he needed them to do soon.

Nala didn't sound like she was much better. Her whimpers and groans were almost as frequent as his. Almost. And he could hear her belly grumbling just like his, too.

"Little ones." The two of them looked up as the King spoke, Simba's eyes locking with his daddy's. "Move to the middle of the room. Stand looking away from each other, and then wait for me to tell you what to do."

Simba hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, Nala following a little bit behind him. They were still worried about what their King wanted them to do, but it was starting to look like maybe it wouldn't be quite as bad as before. Well, so they hoped.

Looking back at where they were sitting, Simba blushed as he realized that he had left a brown mark on the rock. He needed to poop worse than he thought, if there was already some sticking out of his hole. "Nala?" he whispered. "Do I have some poop sticking out of my butt?"

She blinked at his odd question, but stepped back a few paces. She leaned down, and made a gagging sound. "Yeah, you do...your butt's all covered with it, you know." That explained why it felt wet and sticky back there, he supposed.

"What are you looking at, Nala?" the King asked, causing both of the cubs to jump and move fast. They ran straight to the middle of the room and stood looking away from each other, their butts about a foot or two away from each other. "Well, aren't you in a hurry. No matter. You're where you're supposed to be, so let's get started."

The King padded past them, stopping and squatting when his rump was midway between Simba's and Nala's. They sort of formed a triangle. "Now, I want the two of you to poop as much as you can. Every little bit that you have in your butts needs to come out. I'll tell you what I want you to do with it when you're done."

If he hadn't been so full, Simba would have been worried about what he would have to do with all of the poop. But with the need for relief foremost in his mind, he wasn't about to question the command to let loose.

His puckered hole opened up almost before his daddy was done telling them to go. Wet farts slipped out around his poop, the thick semi-solid turds sliding out of his hole fast and slick. He felt slime ooze out from his hole, sliding through his fur down his hind legs and pooling around his hindpaws. It didn't bother him at all, and neither did the splatting of the poop as it hit the ground. He could hear more wet slaps to the rock as his daddy and Nala did the same things as him, and though he blushed to be part of a group pooping, the feeling of relief, of emptiness in place of fullness, distracted him enough to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Log after log passed through his hole, some of the poop pushed down onto his rump and matting some of the fur there. Already held down by the bit that came out while he was sitting, the fur around his butt hole was soon dark brown, smelled to heaven, and felt warm, wet, and gross.

It took him almost half a minute of pooping before he actually had to work to get stuff out. Up until that point, all he had to do was let go and stop holding it in. Now, he needed effort. But that didn't mean that the flow of poop lightened up at all. In fact, once he started really trying, it sped out faster than ever.

Simba whimpered a little bit as the thickness of the poop sliding out started pushing his butt hole wider and wider. It almost hurt, particularly as the older poop started sliding out, hard and covered in a thick sort of outer shell. Stretching his hole out enough so that it gaped between logs, the poop flowed out into a growing pile between the three lions.

Curious, the young lion couldn't help but look back over his shoulder. The sight of the growing poop pile almost made him jump, but he was still pooping hard enough that pulling up out of his squat would have been impossible. Growing larger with every bit of poop that came out of the three lions, the brown pile had some small green streaks in it, and it almost reached up to Simba's butt already.

By the time that they were done, it did reach up to his rump, and it was getting it very dirty. Not that it wasn't dirty already. Even his tail, swishing as it was, started getting coated in the thick, sludgy waste. The tuft of fur on the end was soon weighted down by poop, flicking little pieces of it this way and that. Some landed on his daddy's side, some of it landed on Nala's back, and the rest just landed either back in the pile or on the stony ground.

Stepping away from the large pile, Simba slowly padded his way to Nala's side. The two of them stared at the mound of waste that had been made by the two of them and the King, and both cubs suddenly felt very nervous about what the King had planned.

Mufasa walked around the pile, sitting down behind them. "Okay, are the two of you ready to hear what you're going to be doing?" They nodded. "Good." The King lifted a forepaw, pointing a clawed toe towards the massive pile looming over the cubs. "You're going to take that poop and rub it into each other's fur. Every little bit of fur you have, every bit of your bodies needs to be covered in it by the time that you're done."

The future king couldn't help but stare at the pile after the King told him what they were expected to do. The whole thing was just plain huge, reaching almost as high as the two cubs stood when they were on all fours. If Simba walked by it and tripped, he could slide into the whole thing, be completely covered, and the pile still wouldn't be completely occupied. Probably not even if Nala took the same little trip and stumble and joined him.

The two cubs looked back at the King after a second, looking him right in the eye to see if he was serious.

He was.

Simba looked at Nala to see her reaction. From what he could tell, she looked like she was getting ready to argue with the King, something that he could tell her would be a bad idea. Down here, he really doubted that his dad would do anything to respond, and if she pushed him too hard, Mufasa might just take a hand in getting them started. That was something he wanted to avoid if at all possible.

Just as Nala started to open her mouth, Simba reached down and batted a forepaw against the top of the poop pile. Brown and green streaks flew through the air, fairly small but still large enough to get Nala's attention as they landed on the side of her muzzle. She brought a forepaw up against her face, trying to rub it off, but Simba was relentless for another few seconds. He kept shoving poop across the room at her, watching as it smeared across her fur, sinking into it and sticking. Some little bits fell to the ground, but the majority of it stuck to her.

"Simba, that's enough!" He stopped at the King's words, looking at his father as he stepped between the two of them. The King looked back and forth between them before shaking his head. "I guess I didn't get a chance to say all of the rules. But I'm glad you're enthusiastic about doing your part, son." Simba blushed and looked down at that, Nala doing the same.

After giving them the appropriate few moments of shame, the King cleared his throat to get their attention. "Now that you're both calmed down, here's the rules. You're going to start by using your forepaws to shove poop all over each other. I want you to pack it down as much as you can, so that it sticks, and so there's as much on your fur as there can be. And I don't just want it in your fur. Simba, you're going to push what you can into Nala's pu-...I mean, pee-pee spot and up her butt. Nala, you're going to put as much poop as you can into Simba's sheath. I want to see it bulging with all the brown stuff in it, and I want you to get some into his butt, too. Do you understand me?" he asked, looking down at them.

Simba nodded, and Nala did as well a few seconds later. They slowly walked around the King until they were squatting beside the pile of waste. Simba thought he could tell the difference between his poop and the King's, and between the King's and Nala's, but he couldn't quite tell the difference between his and hers. The smells might have been different, but he wasn't going to be sticking his nose close enough to sniff it to find out something as disgusting and gross as that.

"So...who goes first?" he asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the pile to look Nala in the eyes. "Do you want to...or maybe...should we do it to each other at the same time?"

"I think...yeah, let's just do it at the same time," she muttered. He looked at her reluctantly. The brown in her fur was starting to droop off of the side of her muzzle, and some of it threatened to fall to the floor. Though the King hadn't said anything about the stuff that fell off, Simba didn't want to take the chance that they would be forced to eat it. There was already enough gross stuff to do.

Without thinking, Simba reached into the pile with a forepaw. He yanked out some poop and pushed it against Nala's muzzle, rubbing it in and patting it into the fur. She gasped at his actions, but stood still for it.

Simba didn't know how she did that. Just the weird feeling of the slick poop sliding between his paw toes made him want to throw up. It was weird, because he didn't mind the feel of mud against them, or sliding between them, and this wasn't all that different. But then again, mud didn't smell this bad, and it wasn't something that he was going to have splattered all over himself later.

After making sure that the poop on Nala's face wasn't going to just fall off after he pulled his paw back, he took a short step back. Nala almost looked like she was wearing a muddy mask again, half her face clean, the other half...not so much. It was completely brown, without the slightest bit of gold or tan from her fur showing through. The only point where that side of her face and muzzle wasn't covered was along her nose and over her eye.

He gulped. That, and worse, was going to happen to him before long.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth to avoid some of the smell, Simba watched as Nala scooped up a bit of the poop in her forepaw. He watched it come up to the side of his face, and barely repressed a gag as it pressed against the length of his muzzle. It was still very warm, and it slipped down the side of his face, squelching and bubbling as the pressure from Nala's paw flattened it out and packed it down. She paused partway, and picked up another scoop, starting the whole thing over again.

It was worst when it started slipping around the end of his muzzle, pressed to his lips and onto his nose. The slightest movement would have made his lips open enough to let the poop in, and despite how much he'd already eaten, he didn't want to have more in his belly. It had taken long enough yesterday to get rid of that.

Even though he was able to get away from the taste, though, his nose was still flooded with the smell. And he doubted he would ever smell anything as foul as this again. What few hairs were left around his nose after yesterday felt like they were being burned away by the odor. Grunting, he forced himself to remain still, even as his stomach heaved.

The smooth poop eventually covered his muzzle, and when he felt Nala's forepaw stop patting it into place, he fumbled around for the pile himself. He couldn't move his head much to look down without causing some of the poop to slip from over his eyes, and while he knew they'd eventually be cleaning each other, he didn't want to have to have Nala lick stuff away from his eyes.

Eventually, he was able to cover her face as well, and they slowly worked their way down their bodies. They took turns, first Nala, then Simba picking up some of the waste in the pile and smooshing it down into the fur of the other cub. Despite how far each paw-full of poop spread along the fur, they needed to use a lot of it. After all, they also had to pack it into the fur, and that took more than just wiping it in.

As Simba worked on Nala's side, he realized this was going to take longer than he thought.

~~~

Mufasa watched the cubs with a wide smile on his face. He didn't feel like he needed to hide it at this point, really, considering that Nala and Simba were so focused on covering themselves with the stinky paste of poop. They were almost cute, the way that they were so focused, putting everything else out of their attention while they worked.

It was a good thing that they were, though, considering that his member was already sticking out of his sheath. Fully hard, it was dripping little bits of pre cum down to the ground, the warm liquid slipping over his balls before dripping away. Normally, the smell of his musk would have been enough to catch the attention of the two cubs, or any other lion for that matter, but it was masked by the smell of all the poop in the room. Even though the smell was terrible, even to him, he still felt himself getting harder and hornier than he had been for a long time.

It wasn't just the power trip that he was getting in controlling the cubs like this, though that was a good bit of it. No, it was more the fact that the cubs were playing with the poop that they had put together in that pile. No lioness would have done this for him, not without being ordered. Seeing them do it without threat or harsh demand was great. It meant that he had an outlet for this admittedly disgusting fascination of his.

All the way back before he was King, Mufasa had known that he had an attraction for the things that came out of tailhole and urethra. Poop, pee; anything like that had gotten him harder than anything else. Oh, he was able to settle for the other kinds of sex he could get from the lionesses in the pride, but even anal had begun to lose its attraction. He had started to think that he would never be able to get this kind of play again, and had almost resigned himself to that fate.

But then the cubs had started this, and he had the chance again. Of course, he'd fought against it for a while. After all, the cubs needed to have their own time to discover this sort of thing. But the more they'd come to him, the more he'd wanted to do. By this point, he doubted that he would be able to stop himself from leaping onto them and raping the hell out of them if he got so much as a glance of tailhole or vagina.

And he didn't care anymore.

He watched the cubs get more and more brown, the sound of poop squelching under the pressure of their packing pats making him shiver and tremble. The King thought for a moment of laying on his back and applying his forepaws to his throbbing shaft, but he eventually rejected that idea, keeping himself in a squatted position and just watching them. This was better, and if he climaxed, he would lose interest too quickly.

By now, the two cubs were covered from nose to haunches, each of them starting to work down the hind legs. After that, they would have to go for the belly, and that would mean getting Simba's sheath and Nala's vagina, coating them with poop, and stuffing it into the little crevices.

Mufasa grinned, already looking forward to what he was going to have them do to clean things up afterwards.

~~~

Nala cringed as she took another breath through her nose. Despite how long they had been at this - at least fifteen minutes from what she could guess - she still wasn't used to the smell. At least she'd stopped gagging after the first ten or so minutes. Now she just wished she could throw up, instead of fighting her body the whole time to keep from doing it.

She looked down Simba's body, double checking to see what she had already gotten. His forelegs were covered in poop, as was his back and his sides. She couldn't see much of his face besides the end of his muzzle and his eyes that weren't covered, and the only parts of her friend's hide that weren't covered was his tail, belly...and sheath.

For some reason, she was not looking forward to that particular spot. Maybe it was because she knew that she'd be feeling the warm waste slipping up inside of her body before much longer, and maybe it was because she didn't want to make her friend feel as disgusted and grossed out as he was. Whatever the reason, she hesitated as Simba rolled onto his back, his sheath hanging soft against his belly, his thingie not even showing. She was glad for that, at least.

After looking at his sheath for a few seconds, Nala slowly turned back to the poop pile. Wanting to get this over with quicker, she leaned down and opened her mouth wide. Gathering her courage, she bit down, filling her mouth to capacity with brown and green waste.

Fighting a sudden gag that threatened to expel not just her mouthful of poop but every bit of her stomach - and perhaps other parts of her insides, from how violently it tugged - Nala leaned over Simba and let everything slide out. The slick, smooth poop slid out fast, very little sticking to her tongue for a change. It splatted heavily on the future king's belly, covering him from just above his sheath to just beneath his neck. She repeated the little maneuver a few times, until she was sure that she had enough to pat into him, and enough to stick into his sheath as well. The last mouthful was slimier than the rest, since a little bit of vomit had come up and had mixed with it, but it still worked.

Her paws pressed against the messy goo of poop that covered Simba's belly, rubbing it one way, then the other. It was thick enough in places that it actually needed a lot of pressure, and sometimes she was forced to stand on top of his chest and stomach. When she did, it reminded her of the times they had wrestled before all of the things they had done down here, and it gave her a small smile.

Of course, as she smiled, a little bit of the poop on her face slipped down and fell in. Gagging and sputtering, she spat it out onto Simba's stomach, letting it mix with the rest of the waste. Back to work, and no more opening her mouth, she reminded herself.

It didn't take long for her to pack the poop down on a great deal of Simba's stomach and chest. The brown of his back and sides was now matched on his belly, except for his sheath.

Nala took a deep breath before looking up at Simba's face. She blushed underneath the poop mask she wore, and bent down. Before she could get into position to start shoving it into where the King wanted it to go, Simba opened his mouth to talk again. "Hey, Nala...how about I start...I start rubbing the poop onto your belly while you push it into my sheath."

She nodded over her shoulder. No matter the fact that they needed to do this, she was too embarrassed to actually agree out loud. Feeling his paws pressing poop against her belly and immature nipples, she leaned down. Her chest pressed against his poop covered tummy, and she stared right into the opening of his sheath.

Pressing a paw toe against part of the remaining poop that wasn't patted into Simba's fur, she started pushing it into the sheath. Since it was small and gooey, she was able to just push it past the opening without a lot of difficulty. It slipped in and thinned out, the pressure inside of the younger male's sheath pressing it around his pee-pee and coating the pink thing. For a brief second, Nala wondered what Simba would look like if that came out of his sheath now, but then she pushed the thought aside and got back to work.

Even as she pushed more and more of the waste into Simba's sheath and around his pee-pee, she felt the warm goo being pressed against her tummy. It was really gross, and made her tremble in disgust, but she kept working. Simba's forepaws pressed against her upper tummy first, and slowly started working back, gradually coating more and more of her underside. Little bits of her nipples stuck out through the poop layer until Simba came back to them, rubbing more poop over them. That made her tremble too, but in a different way that she didn't understand.

Nala shook her head, and focused on putting the poop into Simba's sheath. It was already getting quite full, but she kept going, going so far as to stick a paw toe into the opening, shoving it in and compacting it around Simba's thingie. The sheath already looked wider than it had from all the stuff in it, and she finished with a little cap of poop on the top, just to keep it blocked.

And that was when Simba pushed a paw toe into her pee-pee place, and she felt poop starting to fill her.

Grunting and clenching her eyes shut in disgust, she finally was aware of Simba's little grunts and moans of discomfort. He squirmed around under her, and as she watched, she almost thought she could see his sheath pulsing lightly. He wiggled his hips a bit, adjusting himself, but never stopped, and she guessed that he couldn't get comfortable at all.

She understood why, too, as some of the poop on Simba's paw toe stuck inside of her. It felt utterly reprehensible, but it was deep enough inside of her that there was no way that it was going to come out without someone else's help. It was still warmer than her insides, too, and no matter how she moved, it squelched around unpleasantly inside of her.

Simba's paw toe wiggled around inside of her as he started packing as much into her as he could, and she groaned softly in disgust as it packed more and more inside of her. She was sure that the next time she peed, it was going to come out brown with all this inside of her. Grunting softly, Nala tried to pull back a bit, but she was hooked on Simba's paw toe, and was stuck there until he was done packing her up.

Shaking her head, she settled down, and waited.

~~~

Simba shook his head in dismay, and would have stuck out his tongue at what he was doing if there wasn't the chance of getting it coated in poop. He didn't like what he was doing to Nala, partly because it was gross, and partly because he knew how she felt.

The poop inside of his sheath rubbed against his thingie a lot, and not in a good way. It was hard in some places, and that hurt his pee-pee a bit, and even where it was soft and mushy, it still squirted and squirmed around inside. With Nala's place squeezing around his finger, almost pulling the poop off of it before it got inside, he would bet that it was even worse for her.

What he hated most was that he couldn't even reach down and try to get more comfortable. Simba was sure that if he could reach down to his sheath and do something, he could make it so the stuff pressing against his thingie didn't feel so icky, or painful. But the way things were, he couldn't reach down to it, and with how much poop was in it, he doubted he could even pee to get some of it out of the way. He was tempted to try, but that would mean that Nala would have to pack it up again, and he wasn't going to put either of them through that.

The layer of poop was thickest on his forepaws, with a little extra on his belly and face. Every move that he made caused the layers to shift and slide against his fur, and he cringed every time at the sensation. Not bothering to move his hips to try and make his sheath feel better, he focused all of his efforts at Nala's holes.

Yes, holes, because the King said for him to stuff them both quite full. One of his forepaws pressed the waste into Nala's pee-pee place, while the other pressed and shoved stuff into her tailhole. Both holes tried to keep his paw toes out, but with enough force, he was able to get them in. It made Nala uncomfortable, but it was what the King told him to do.

Still, he whimpered with her in discomfort, especially when she returned the favor and started pushing her paw toes into his tailhole. The gooey mess of the poop followed, making him feel full very quickly. Despite emptying himself to donate to the pile, he didn't have that much of a capacity for poop to start with, and Nala was really shoving it in.

Grunting, he tried to concentrate on what he was doing, hoping that his daddy didn't have anything too gross for them to do after this.

~~~

Mufasa watched the whole show with his teeth clenched so hard that he couldn't help wondering why he wasn't bleeding. The moans and grunts of the cubs as they worked the waste into their holes were just so sexy to him, and his member just wouldn't stop leaking from the stimulation.

The two of them were almost completely covered in poop, with only the lengths of their tails not covered in the gooey, slick mess. They looked utterly horrified at what they were doing, yet they continued it anyway, without protest and without complaint. The way that his son's paw toes stretched out little Nala's pussy and tailhole stretched his control to the max, but he wasn't ready to leap on them and take his pleasure, not yet. He wanted them to do one more thing first, a very special thing that quite possibly might make him climax without the slightest touch.

After they stood up and dipped their tails into the little bit of the pile of poop remaining, Mufasa cleared his throat to get their attention. "Little ones, you did a good job in getting one another coated. I'm glad that you listened to my instructions so well. Now, we need to get you cleaned up, and then you can go back up and enjoy your day." He looked at their faces, and smiled inside at the hope that shined in them, hope that they were going to get out of this without much more embarrassment and shame. He almost looked forward to squashing that hope.

"You two need to lick each other clean, completely and totally clean," he said. They stared at him, and he smiled. "When you're done, I'll probably have one last thing to do, but then you can go." They continued to stare at him, and he nodded for them to start.

He slowly reached a forepaw down to his sheath, slowly dragging it up his length as the cubs turned to one another, lying down on their sides so that they were looking at the belly of the other. This was the part he'd been looking forward to since they'd started. He wanted to watch them clean out their most intimate holes. He wanted to watch them squirm as they started to feel clean again, and felt the pleasure of another's touch in those spots.

As he squeezed his shaft between his paw toes, Mufasa grinned. This was going to be fun.

~~~

Simba groaned as he pressed his muzzle against Nala's poop covered belly, the tip of his muzzle pressing almost at her pee-pee place between her hind legs. It wasn't through special attention that he was aimed there; it was just the spot he went to most naturally in the position they were in.

And it was putrid looking. Every bit of her belly, and her pee-pee place in particular, was covered in the brown and green streaks of poop. He couldn't see any color other than those two, and with his nose almost pressed into the mess, there was no escape from the smell. He groaned softly, almost curling up to try and comfort his heaving stomach before he stopped himself. His tail twitched behind him agitatedly, and he had to force himself forward again.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Nala leaning in as well, as hesitant as he was. Just like earlier, he could understand her frustration with this, but they couldn't put this off. They had to do this, just had to. So he stuck out his tongue and started licking Nala's belly just as she started to do the same to him.

The poop was so thick in her fur that it didn't come off on his tongue easily. Instead, it peeled, every lick pushing it into a pile on top of the poop nearby. Just a few licks got a small spot clean, but it spread the poop around to make the layers around it that much thicker. Simba stopped for a moment, and measured one of the piles in trepidation. It was just about the right size for a mouthful, and that would clean off that pile and leave some clean fur underneath. The only problem with that was how nasty it was going to taste, and just how much poop he was going to have to eat before Nala was completely clean.

"Oh well," Simba said under his breath, a little bit of poop slipping from his face to the rocky floor as his face fell. Closing his eyes, he slowly leaned in and closed his jaws around one of the larger piles, hoping to get it out of the way quickly.

As soon as he shut his mouth, however, he wanted to throw everything inside up, and despite the success he'd had in holding back his stomach thus far, he lost that particular battle. Lurching, he puked the mouthful of poop back onto Nala's stomach, a small trail of slime from his stomach following in a second heave. The almost shiny slime washed a little bit of the poop on her tummy away as it rolled down her belly, leaving a small pool of brown goo on the rock.

Gasping for breath, Simba looked to Nala's face, apologizing with a glance before turning back to the bite. He needed to do this. He had to do this. He just had to keep telling himself that, and maybe it would make it easier to do.

Simba took a couple of deep breaths through his mouth, trying to calm his stomach down again. Even with his mouth empty it was still trying to empty itself, but he was able to shrug off that urge. At least by breathing through his mouth, he didn't smell the poop waiting for him. That helped a little bit right there.

When he felt that he was calm enough again, he leaned in and pressed his lips around that bite again. His teeth sunk through the poop as though it wasn't even there, sinking through the waste and barely giving him enough of a grip to pull it free. Still, he managed it, and he desperately started pushing it back towards the rear of his mouth, hoping he could swallow it down before it made his stomach erupt again.

However, the poop wasn't going to go down without a fight. Even though it moved back in his mouth as he tried to swallow it, it sloshed forward again as soon as it reached the back of his mouth, escaping to press against his teeth before he could swallow. It was like drinking mud water; every time he thought he was going to get it down, it slid back to the front of his mouth.

As he whimpered in disgust, he found himself slightly soothed by the feeling of Nala's tongue pressing against his lower belly, slowly working lower and lower. Each little lick of hers peeled off a little more of the noxious, odorous substance off of his stomach, and let a little more of the cleaner, though chilled, air down to brush against his belly. It felt heavenly after his stomach had been cut off from it by the layer of waste.

But he couldn't concentrate on the nice feeling for long. He needed to get this bite down his throat and move on. As stubborn as the poop was, eventually he was able to get it to go down his throat. It stuck and annoyed the inside of his throat, but he kept swallowing, forcing the poop down with a determined strength.

When it finally was going down his throat without him having to keep forcing it, he went back to his licking. His tongue flicked out over every bit of her belly, slowly gathering the poop into ever growing piles around her lower belly, almost at her pee-pee place. He was, however, capable to keep the piles in bite-size mounds. He wanted to know just how much he was going to have to eat by counting the piles, so he'd always know how close he was to being done.

Just as he was about to start munching into one of the piles, he felt Nala's tongue prod at the opening of his sheath, and he paused in mid reach.

Her tongue felt really weird down there. Even though she was just touching the tip of his sheath and not his pee-pee, like she had another time, he still felt the strange, almost good sensations that he'd felt before. The poop around his thingie still didn't feel good, but he was able to ignore that when Nala's tongue kept touching him down there.

Simba shook his head, and went back to the task at hand. Leaning forward, he got a good grip on one of the eight piles that waited for him, and pulled back. His mouth completely filled with the waste, he immediately got to work forcing it back to his throat. It was harder now; not so much from the taste of the poop, though that was rancid enough, but because he kept gasping softly as Nala's tongue wiggled deeper and deeper into his sheath.

Every gasp he made coincided with a lick over his pee-pee, and each gasp pulled a little more of the poop in his mouth out of the mass and into his throat. Though it made him gag, it also made the mouthful a little smaller and a little more manageable, since it was getting smaller. Eventually, he was able to push the large piece into his throat, and started swallowing even as he leaned forward to get another mouthful.

Each mouthful was harder than the last. Nala's tongue flicking over his pee-pee and sheath soon made him start poking out, his little pink shaft poking Nala on the lips when it came out. As dirty as it was, Simba wasn't surprised that she started licking at it to clean it off, but he was surprised at how good it felt. Even through the disgust at the task they were doing, he still felt that, and he whimpered softly. His daddy and Nala would probably think that he was just making that sound because of how much he hated this. That was part of it: the other part was because of how good Nala's tongue felt.

By the time that he was clean down there, he'd gotten most of the poop off of her tummy. There was only one more pile of poop, and then her pee-pee place to clean out. Then there was...Simba sighed as he realized that there was still Nala's back and face and sides to clean. This was going to take a lot longer than he thought. He shook his head slightly as his jaws engulfed the last mouthful of poop.

He shoved it back to the rear of his throat, adding it to the collecting mass that was blocking up most of his throat. Swallowing frantically barely got it to move at all, and his stomach was starting to get very round, very round indeed from all the poop it was forced to hold onto. At least it was so full now that he wasn't gagging anymore. It just didn't have the strength to get rid of that much.

Aside from the trouble of swallowing it all, there was still the problem of Nala working to get the last bit of poop off of his thingie and off of his testi...tetsi...his balls. She switched between licking over the small little orbs between his legs and pulling every bit of his pink pee-pee into her mouth, licking off every bit of brown and making him squirm with every touch of her tongue. He groaned, not sure what to think about this anymore.

Sighing, he took his final swallow. The last pile of poop was on its way to his stomach now, and that meant that he could just focus on her pee-pee place. Steeling himself, Simba leaned down and started licking around it, thinking maybe he could repeat the process he'd started on her belly.

That quickly proved impossible. No matter how much he licked over the little opening, he couldn't get more than a little bit of the poop out. It was sunk too deeply inside of her, too far in for him to just lick it out. He would have to stick his tongue in really deep.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself for the task, Simba plunged ahead.

His tongue encountered more poop almost as soon as it slipped in, and he curled his tongue around the edge of the mess. Lapping it back, he barely tasted it as the flavor of poop had become a constant for him. Even when it left his mouth now, he still tasted it, so there was no new burst of flavor from that. It even coated his tongue, so he couldn't get a taste of how Nala was like down here.

As he stuck his tongue in to get a little more out, Nala jerked, her hips twitching as she brought her pee-pee place closer to his face. It surprised him, and he was glad that his poop covered face only touched her hind legs. They hadn't been cleaned yet, and a little more poop there wouldn't be so bad. Better than staining her belly again and getting that all messy again.

His tongue working frantically, Simba gradually dug deeper and deeper, pulling out everything that he encountered that felt like poop.

~~~

Nala grunted as she felt Simba's tongue wiggling around over her pee-pee hole. She'd been about to move to Simba's tailhole, or maybe his sides, when he'd gone there, but as soon as he'd started licking, she'd been frozen in place. The feel of his tongue there...it was like a lightning strike hitting her, but in a good way. A groan slipped from her lips at the unfamiliar feeling, and she was forced to take a moment to collect herself before going back to cleaning duty.

Her stomach grumbled as she pressed her tongue against Simba's hind legs, scraping the poop off of his fur and into her mouth. Unlike him, she was able to get it to come off and onto her tongue. It meant that it took a little longer than the pile making and eating that Simba had done on her belly, but it meant that she didn't have to take such big bites. With the poop being so hard to swallow as it was, she considered that a fair trade.

The small mouthfuls still gave her trouble, though. Just getting them to the back of her throat was a challenge, and it stuck against her cheeks enough when she chewed it that she was forced to lick it off of the insides of her cheeks before getting it to go down. Thankfully, she soaked it with enough spit before swallowing that it went down with just a couple of swallows. However, that still was a trade-off: she got the poop to go down easier, but the taste stayed in her mouth a lot more, and it was that much stronger.

Nevertheless, she stuck to her task, licking the poop off of Simba's hind legs, moving from the hind paws up to his sheath and then repeating, making sure to get every bit that she could reach.

Simba's licking made that difficult. Every time that he stuck his tongue inside of her, she jerked, shoving that part of her against his face for a second before getting herself under control again. It was weird, almost like she couldn't help but try and force his tongue further into her, push it into her so that he would keep licking her inside. But that couldn't be: that's where she peed out of, after all, and you weren't supposed to lick there...were you?

Shaking her head and trying to put that thought out of her head, Nala continued licking up poop. Her tongue was completely coated with it now, and she couldn't taste anything but the filthy flavors and textures of the combined mess of adult and cub poop. It was never ending, all consuming, and she whimpered at the need she felt to just get away from it.

But she couldn't. She had to finish the job, had to. Grunting and gagging with every bite, she continued her licking, her only silver lining to the situation the strange but good feelings from her pee-pee place whenever Simba pulled a little more poop out of her with his tongue.

As she worked, Nala slowly became aware of a strange sound. It sounded wet, and heavy, like something that was completely soaked kept getting hit. She looked around as best she could, but as her line of sight was limited to Simba's sheath and belly and legs, she couldn't really figure out what it was. It couldn't be harmful, she decided, since it wasn't bothering either of them, so she dismissed her thoughts of it and went back to cleaning Simba up. Oh, how she wanted it to be over.

~~~

Mufasa's member continued to spit pre as he humped between two paw toes, little droplets falling to the ground. He could barely hold back the moans and groans that filled him with the sight of the cubs in front of him. Simba with his little stiffy, and Nala with her little humps against his son's face...it was just so arousing for the older male. He wanted to jump on them, to stuff their filthy holes with his cock and mark them with his seed.

And when they stood up to start cleaning one another's sides more easily, he realized that he couldn't - or really, realized he didn't have to - wait any longer.

With a low growl, the King of the Pridelands got to all fours, and pounced. His powerful muscles carried him from the side of the room to the cubs, landing with one forepaw on the back of Simba's poop covered neck. It forced his son's front half down and bumped his butt up in the air. The twitching, poop covered tip didn't bother the king in the least, even when it trailed waste across his belly. All that mattered was that he was about to sheath his cock in a poop covered tailhole that was tighter than anything else in the Pride.

With a grunt, he lunged forward, shoving his cock against the tiny pink anus of his son. The hole resisted for all of a second before the resistance broke, and his cock slid inside. Simba shrieked in pain and Nala yelped in surprise, but all that was heard in response were a few fast fading echoes. That was one reason Mufasa had chosen this room. No matter what was said, at whatever volume, nobody else would hear it unless they were very close.

Not that he cared about that at this point. The heated walls of the insides of his son's tailhole was all that mattered to him, and he instantly started thrusting back and forth, his hips moving in a blur as he rammed into the boy's hole. What waste was inside only served as a minor bit of lube and little else, as his thrusts compacted it further and further into the future king's hole.

Both cubs squirmed, Nala backstepping rapidly before slowly inching forward to see what was happening, Simba just trying to get away. The latter just wasn't going to happen: Mufasa's greater strength didn't give the cub any leverage to get away, and besides, he was pounding at that little hole too fast for Simba to concentrate on anything else.

The sound of his balls bouncing off his son's rear, his growls, Simba's yelps; every sound combined to form a cacophony of sounds, a symphony of sex as he took his pleasure. He smelled the poop that covered his son and Nala, and the bitter rancidness of it only heightened his need. He grunted, leaning down and licking at the back of his son's neck, tasting the feces that covered it as he humped away.

Every hump spat a little more pre into the cub's hole, turning the poop inside into a muddy goo. Each time he pulled out, some of that goo slipped back with his cock, oozing out of the boy's little hole and down his leg. The fresh waste only added to the foul smell that permeated the entire room, causing the cubs to groan and the king to moan. Despite his son's begging pleas for him to stop, to pull back, Mufasa ignored him and continued to take his pleasure. In fact, he not only ignored the begging, but actually shoved Simba's face into what was left of the poop pile in the middle of the room. The words stopped, and only a few gargled syllables slipped out before Simba got the message.

With how much he had been teasing himself, the King could not hold back for long. The sexy sight of his son buried in poop, the tightness of the hole around his member, and the pure filth of smell and sound of the poop that was the center of everything; it all combined to pull him into an utterly explosive climax. He roared hard and loud, his teeth bared as he shot a massive load of cum into the little cub.

His cum kept squirting even as he pulled back, his hard shaft jerking lightly as several streams slipped out and plastered themselves on Simba's rump. The little bit of white amidst the brown that was left there made Mufasa moan, and his prick remained completely hard.

He slowly turned, looking down at Nala. She looked back at him, quiet, but confused and definitely a little bit scared about what had just happened to her friend. He took a step forward, then another, getting behind her before she could turn and run. "Don't worry, Nala, it's nothing bad...and now it's your turn," he said in such a deep, satisfied voice that it almost sounded like a purr.

Nala was already in the perfect position, her chest against the ground and her butt up in the air. Most of her tailhole had been cleaned off, and so had her vagina, sadly, but that was still good. After all, he'd always emptied his pee into Simba's hole, for the most part, and Nala's would no doubt prove to be tighter.

The King didn't waste any time. Getting a good grip on her hips with his forepaws, he pulled her right back onto his member. It hadn't had the slightest chance to soften, and the rapid re-introduction to stimulation was almost painful to him. He moaned softly, his loud grunt of satisfaction almost enough to completely drown out Nala's whimpering whine of pain.

Great Kings that came before, but she was tight! He almost couldn't believe the sensation around his dick by this point, but the pure pleasure that threatened to yank his cum right out of his balls told him that it was real enough. Grunting, he set to pounding her as hard as he had his son.

Speaking of Simba, Mufasa looked over at him as he pumped in and out of Nala's tight little hole. His son was laying down in the same position as when he'd been taken, his face still mostly in the pile of poop and his rump up and at the ready. Oh, that was going to be fun later, he was sure, if the cubs wanted to continue this.

But that was later. Now was for Nala.

He turned his attention to the female cub under him, leaning in and biting down on her neck as he took her, hard and fast. The pressure on his member never let up, and her tightness never ceased. It took all of his strength to power himself in and out of her, his thrusts brutal and strong to get in and out this fast. Some little bit of poop clung to his member, but not enough to really make it easier to slide in and out. Just enough for him to feel it and make it more pleasurable for him, really.

His balls screamed for release, and before long, he was forced to give into them. While he had the stamina to take the lionesses for hours, the tightness of the cub's hole was enough to bring him to climax swiftly. As his balls slapped against her pussy one last time, he hilted himself in her tailhole and deposited just as large a load of cum in her as he hard in Simba. He felt her tremble and heard her whimpering at the feeling, and he grinned to himself. That, he felt, was how it should go.

Slowly, when he was sure that he had deposited all the cum he had into Nala's taihole, the King pulled back. He felt her hole clamping down on him, even though that must have hurt her, and he chuckled a little. It was tempting to continue, but he needed to get up top and clean off before the rest of the pride woke up. After all, he was the King.

However, there was one more thing he could do.

After he nudged Simba and Nala into positions right next to one another, he squatted down in front of their faces. His member pointed right at the end of their muzzles, and he grinned as he slowly relieved himself on them. His pee splashed out over their muzzles, and over their backs, washing away poop wherever it landed. It sluiced the waste right off of them, slicing down to the fur below to reveal the gold and tan color that had been concealed.

The flow of pee lasted for a rather long time. He wiggled back and forth to make sure to get as much of their fur as he could, but even with as much pee as he had, he couldn't get rid of everything. Some little bits still clung to their sides, and a little under their chins remained no matter how much it was splashed. But at least he had managed to mark them again.

Standing up when his bladder was empty, the King walked over to the little tunnel that led out of the room. He turned to look over his shoulders at the cubs, and chuckled once. They'd clean themselves off, and then they would go about their day.

And tomorrow, they'd just start the game over again.