The sweltering heat of the desert in the far reaches of the Pride Lands could be felt by any animal that wandered too far through the dry, cracked ground, devoid of any and all moisture. Any animal that ventured this far would surely meet their end in the hot sun. But if any were lucky enough to make it this far, they would discover a tropical paradise, a massive oasis in the form of a lush, thriving jungle. Unfortunately for one Lion Cub he had almost made it to this place, only to collapse but mere yards away from his thirst’s salvation, having collapsed and laying on the dust filled ground, Buzzards circling high above and coming in to partake in their midday feast.
There meal being broken before it could even begin as a loud galloping of hooves and screaming of voices thunder toward them, the assembled flock dispersed by flurry of kicks, punches and hits from two, unlikely, saviours, “woo hoo! Bowling for buzzards.” Announces one of the pair, a large warthog, plump with impressive, sharp tusks, though, due to his docile nature, he rarely uses them unless only as protection, “Get’s em every time, Ah hah, hah.” The other chuckles at the result of the pair’s entertainment, this one being a small Meerkat, traditional fur markings with tuft of red hair fur atop his head. He is called over by his ‘friend’ after the warthog makes an ‘unexpected’ discovery, “Uh Timon, you better come and see this, I think it’s still alive.” The warthog says in a worrying tone. Looking over to where his friend had called from, he grimaces at the visual image of what he may find there, scurrying over to where his friend was, climbing atop the large, by comparison, creature and sniffing at it curiously, “Alrighty, what have we got here?” Timon says, sniffing more at the creature. The Meerkat taking a moment while his warthog friend watches, Timon is surprised by the, strangely appetising smell given off by this creature’s fur and lifts its paw to see what kind of animal could smell so strangely appeasing. Gazing down at the animal, Timon recoils and scurries away when met with the face of a Lion Cub, “Geez it’s a LION!” he exclaims, hurrying back atop his friend, “Run Pumba, Move it!” he says in haste. The Warthog having a concerned look upon his face when Timon runs back atop him but thinks his friend a little silly for being scarred so easily, “Hey Timon, it’s only a little lion, look at him. He’s so cute and all alone... Can we Keep em?” he asks happily. Timon still cowers atop his friend’s head, hearing what Pumba says makes him even more panicked grasping at the warthog’s ears, “Pumba, are you nuts? He’s a Lion, Lions eat guys like us.” Timon says, definite fear in his voice, “But he’s so little.” Pumba retorts to his friend’s fear filled comment. “He’s gonna get bigger.” Timon says in argument immediately followed by Pumba saying, “Then, maybe, he’ll be on OUR side.” He says to which Timon laughs, “Ah hah, hah, that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard, Maybe he’ll be-.” He begins before a thought strikes him.
The Meerkat wasn’t known for his fast mind, Pumba clearly possessing a slightly more advanced understanding of the world around him than his small pal but still allowed Timon to assume the leader role out of kindness and the Meerkat’s ability to think on his feet, and Timon was having one such a brain wave, realising that having a lion Bodyguard wasn’t such a bad idea after all, “So then we’re keeping him?” Pumba asks, lifting the cub’s body with, and then resting the cub’s body on, his large Tusks. Timon scoffing at Pumba’s question with a smile, “*Pfft* Of course, who’s the brains of this outfit?” he asks rhetorically, but before Pumba can answer with a drawn out ‘Uhh’, Timon cut’s him off, “My point exactly.” He says, this comment making the warthog feel a bit hurt, even though Timon may not have realised the insult he just let slip, “Geez, I’m fried, let’s get outta here and find some shade.” He adds, the two friends, trotting off back into the dense jungle with their new, adopted, lion cub.
Once the two friends arrive at their home, Pumba rests the Lion cub the shaded area of a tree trunk where Timon and Pumba usually slept, “He should be ok here for a while, let’s get em some water. The desert sun REALLY takes it outta ya.” Says Timon, he knowing this well as he used to live in a similar setting with his Meerkat family before being made an outcast, Pumba nods in agreement and heads off to the nearby water hole. Timon is about to follow and climb up onto his friend’s back before being overcome by an odd feeling which stops him in his tracks. Looking back, Pumba notices Timon looking at the cub, “Hey Timon, ya comin?” he asks, Timon couldn’t put his finger on it but something about the strangely appetising scent of this cub’s fur piqued his curiosity, looking back at Pumba when he called out, “Uh, yeah, you go on ahead, I’ll stay here and, watch over the little guy.” He says, a little hesitantly to Pumba’s ears but he shrugs it off as Timon simply being overly concerned and trots off.
After he was sure, Pumba had gone; Timon scurries over to the Cub once more, looking over his tired, heat stricken body and can’t help but lean in for a deep sniff, the scent that hit his snout made him almost loose his balance out of pure longing, this cub smelled delicious! Better than anything he’d scented before, better than the crunchiest, tastiest bugs he’d ever eaten, this only motivating his curiosity even further, if he smelled this good, then how would he taste? He asked himself this, his curiosity getting the better of him as he leans in, lifts a paw up and gives one of the cub’s fingers a testing lick. An explosion of tangy, delicious flavour bursts on his tongue, moving his tongue around the finger wantonly, licking to his heart’s content and groaning loudly at the incredible taste of this cub’s fur. At one point, Timon sticks the whole finger tip into his mouth, licking and sucking happily upon the finger. Then, as if instinctively, he moves the finger’s tip to the back of his mouth and softly gulps around it, his eyes popping open, expecting to gag at any moment with the lion cub’s finger tip in his throat, but, is more surprised when he, not only does he NOT gag, but actually feels his throat widen to accept the furred digit. Eventually getting over the initial shock of this after a few moments, Timon decides to go a step further and swallows a second time with a little more heft to the gulp. Immediately finding that his throat stretches once more, moulding to the finger as it slides further down his throat with neck muscles actually massaging and tugging it deeper, this, unexpected development, urges Timon on, his actions fuelling his curiosity and, therefore, his curiosity, in turn, fuelling his actions, giving swallow after swallow around the cub, gulping in more and more of his, comparatively, large form, eyes closed in delicious bliss. He didn’t know how long he’d been going for, all that he knew was when he hit a road block he opened his eyes once more. What he saw shocked him, in the space of, what seemed, like 5 minutes, he had swallowed this cub’s limb, from the tip of the finger he’d started with, all the way to his shoulder!
Timon’s eyes went wide with surprise, not quite believing the feat he had accomplished. The cub’s whole front leg down his throat and inside his stomach, he could actually feel the cub’s paw inside his belly. What amazed the Meerkat more was the fact that he was still able to breathe, somehow, and that only a feint strain of his, now, massively wide throat could be felt. Thoughts of what he was doing were starting to enter his mind, apparently he is capable of stretching his throat and swallowing large food items, like a snake would, with ease. His thoughts broken by him moving his tongue over the cub’s fur once more which sends another jolt to his taste buds, he just HAD to have MORE of this delicious taste, currently in his mouth. At which point, Timon looks over to the Cub’s massive head and his curiosity began turning once more, ‘I wonder if I can fit his head in too?’ So, using his free arms, he reaches over to the Cub’s head, managing to grasp his chin and endeavours to tug it over to his face. This proved immensely difficult to Timon, due to the cub’s paw already stretching out his stomach to its perceived limit, but eventually, he manages to get the head to his face.
Now came the tricky, and likely impossible, part of stretching his jaws EVEN wider than they were currently and to fit his chin into his mouth, let alone his head, at which point he closed his eyes once more and left it up to blind faith that he could do this, and amazingly, he finds his mouth able to widen even more, stretching around the cub’s chin, and able to move up slowly over the cub’s face as well. If Timon’s mouth weren’t, overwhelmingly, full right now, he’d have the biggest smile of his life on his face, eventually letting out a heavy gulp as the chin, and muzzle, enters Timon’s throat. Timon couldn’t believe he had succeeded in this newest feat, filled with renewed vigour, he presses on and continues to gulp and swallow his way up the cub’s head.
Had the cub not still been unconscious, then he would watch helplessly as his vision becomes encased in darkness, feeling the tight, massaging tugs upon his muzzle as his head and front leg are pulled deeper and deeper into the dark, fleshy abyss of his unknown predator. Timon is starting to get the hang of this and loving every moment of it, he, literally, climbing and crawling his jaws up and over the Cub’s head, amazed that he’s still able to breathe, somehow, with a Lion Cub’s head sliding down his throat. Gulping twice more around his neck, Timon hits his second road block, the other shoulders of his meal, but he looked at this with determination in his eyes, giving the progress he’d made thus far, he was certain that this too would be no problem for him and so he continues to press on.
Sliding his jaws further and further along the Cub’s body, his theory had been correct, as he swallowed further, his jaws widening once more to encompass the cub’s other shoulder, to say that Timon’s body was starting to rise off the ground around this massive meal would be a gross understatement, the bulge of the cub he was devouring, steadily raises his whole body from the ground laying atop it’s mass as the Cub began to curl up inside Timon’s mammoth belly. Swallowing around the cub’s chest, and continuing on past it, devouring the cub effortlessly now, he only considered the cub as food now as he slowly slides his jaws over the cub’s middle.
Gulping and swallowing continuously, Timon has finally worked his jaws around the cub’s rear haunches and had only the home stretch of the back legs of his meal to devour. He honestly couldn’t believe that he’d be capable of something like this, or the fact that Lions tasted SO good, ‘I may just have to put lions on my diet’, he thinks to himself as he gulps and swallows, gently and slowly along the furry legs of the knocked out lion cub. To Timon, it felt like he had been enjoying the pleasure of swallowing this delicious meal for hours while, in reality, it had barely been 20 minutes, the Meerkat’s appetite being surprisingly great for a creature of his size. Timon took his time as he came to the final bit of his meal, the cub’s hind paws, slurping and licking over every inch of them tenderly and intently while drawing them in slowly to get every last bit of that incredible taste. The cub’s toes finally enter into Timon’s mouth, closing his puffed out jaws around them and giving a final swallow, he reaching up to stroke at the neck bulge they made going down his throat and empty into the truly massive stomach bulge beneath him.
The stomach groaned loudly at the mass of ‘food’ encased within it, the Cub’s features being clearly visible to any and all who cared to look, Timon groaning loudly, “Uhh... man that was one heck of a meal...” he groans, letting out an in voluntary belch, followed by burp as he lets out most of the gases in his stomach, making the cub’s features even more visible, “Ugh, man, It’s gonna take days to work the little guy down.” He says exhausted but with a little smile afterward, “But It’ll be well worth it.” He says a loud, yawning widely as he curls up to sleep above the mattress of his huge belly.
Ten minutes later, Pumba returns from the watering hole with a big banana leaf containing water for the heat stricken cub, only to find the snoring Timon, resting above a massive stomach bulge, what was once a big mass of visible Lion Cub features was now a big round ball of a stomach. Pumba couldn’t help but stare at the sight of his friend with such a huge belly, he knew his friend occasionally binged on a rich source of bugs, but nothing to this extent, ‘He must’ve found a WHOPPER of a bug banquet this time.’ He thinks to himself, thinking nothing more of it but he was concerned to where the cub had got to? Never knowing, that the cub was closer than he thought, currently starting to be worked over by Timon’s stomach acids.
The day goes by and Pumba continued his normal routine of hunting for delicious bugs which seemed to still be plentiful, in spite of the ‘obviously’ massive binge Timon had, had. His stomach bulge having diminished by at least half from the morning, sleeping soundly a top the squishier, smaller stomach bulge he donned, looking so cute in his current, snoozing pose with loud gurgles, churning and groaning noises emanating from his busy stomach.
The next day, and Timon is finally awake, though be it a little groggy. He still not getting over the meat drunken stupor of his ‘large meal’ from a day before, “Oooh, my head... maybe eating him wasn’t the best idea.” He groans out, making sure Pumba was nowhere in ear shot to hear this. The only other sounds, beside Timon’s groans of discomfort, were that of his still round belly, now being only one eighth the size it once was, but still too big for Timon to move about yet. It still gurgling in its job of digesting the ‘last’ of Timon’s ‘massive’ meal, he letting out a crass, drawn out burp in emphasis, tasting the remnants of his meal on his breath which make him murr with delight, “Mmmm... he was tasty though.” He says with slightly smile and picking his teeth with a finger.
A third day passes and cheerful sounds of two friends roaming the jungle once again could be heard by all other residents, the pair, Timon and Pumba, off in search of more bugs, but not before Pumba voices his concern to his friend atop his head, “Just remember Timon, if we find another ‘Big’ batch of bugs, don’t go too over board, you don’t want ‘that’ to get any bigger.” He says, to Timon who blushes slightly and looking down at his middle which, as Pumba pointed out, was now very portly and swayed side to side with pudge which, to the Meerkat’s Best efforts, Timon was simply unable to get rid of, “Eheh heh, yeah... I’ll try not to go too overboard this time bud.” He says to Pumba, patting the warthog on the head. Unbeknownst to him, Timon still thought about the Lion cub they found and how delicious he tasted, should he ever find another one, he’d be sure to exercise vigorously afterwards, in order to not raise suspicion.
