The strength training was a lot harder than the lion expected. Simba’s just been eating bugs and lounging around with Timon and Pumba for the past months, so he’s gotten pretty out of shape. Thus, even Yewande’s simple instruction -- climbing a small saugage tree -- proved almost impossible for the lion. Simba felt humiliated as he fell off again and again, unable to support his own weight. Within only a few minutes, the lion was too exhausted to continue, slumping to the ground. “Pathetic,” Yewande rolled her eyes, seeing the lion cub giving up so easily. Already angry, the insult made Simba’s temperature reach the boiling point, and he quickly lost his temper.
“Your… stupid regimen isn’t working, lady!” Simba stood up and yelled, finally laying down the law (or so he thought).
“Is that so?” Yewande smirked, amused by Simba’s frustration. “Let’s try something else, then.” Simba rolled her eyes, waiting to see what new, stupid ‘exercise’ routine Yewande came up with… only to be stunned when he looked back to see the leopardess’ huge rear descending upon him!
Yewande didn’t even sit down on Simba with her full weight, but it was still enough to press the lion painfully against the ground. Simba’s face was pressed uncomfortably against the dirt as her large, plush rump pressed against his back.Eventually, Simba lifted her up enough to issue a complaint. “What the hell...” He managed to yell, his frustration and exhaustion evident in his voice. For the boastful prince, being used as a glorified chair was even more humiliating than being swallowed whole had been. “G… get off me!”
Yewande giggled. The little lion was so small, only his tail and snout managed to avoid being covered by her rear end. He clearly wasn’t in the position to be making demands. “Just stand up and push me off,” Yewande instructed. “I’m only sixty pounds. You are a lion, aren’t you? Aren’t you supposed to be strong?”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one, Simba relented, pressing his paws firmly against the ground and pushing upwards with all his strength. Even though the leopardess’ rump was almost big enough to cover his entire body, his innate strength as a lion did allow him to raise her to raise up a little bit. “Urgh…” he groaned, putting more effort into this than he had put into anything for the past couple years. Yewande raised a brow, a little big impressed by the tiny feline’s power. Perhaps he really was stronger than she thought he was. Of course, Yewande was going just easy on him right now…
Just as Simba was about to escape from under her rump, Yewande finally sat down with her full weight. Simba was smashed against the ground yet again, the leopardess’ rear pressing down on him almost harder than he could stand. “Agh!” he screamed, agonized, as the leopardess so easily overpowered him. Luckily, her rump was surprisingly plump and soft for such a muscular leopardess, which made the experience at least bearable, if no less humiliating.
“Whoops!” Yewande giggled, shifting back and forth on her ‘seat’. “Sorry! Just getting comfortable…” Simba futilely tried to push her upwards once again, just to get some room to breathe; unfortunately for him, this time, she wasn’t going to allow it. “Is that all you’ve got?” Yewande laughed, entertained by the futile squirming of the lion under her rear. “You can’t even budge me an inch. What a weak king you’d be! If somebody wanted to steal your throne, all they’d have to do is sit on you!” She cackled wildly at the thought. “Careful down there. Don’t break anything!”
Eventually, just as Simba was running low on air, Yewande decided to relent on this particular bit of “training”. She stood up, chuckling as the lion immediately started gasping down the fresh air. “Aww. Was that routine a little too advanced for you?” she said, as Simba rolled over onto his back, facing his captor. “Well, just admit that I know what I’m talking about, and we can get back to our scheduled training.”
Thinking over what had just happened to him, instead of becoming scared, Simba just got angrier. This leopard was toying with him. None of what she did made any sense. “You’re… crazy…” he said between breaths. “You don’t know… anything.”
Yewande was a bit taken aback. She never expected him to be THIS stubborn. “Hm. I keep trying to extend an olive branch, little lion, but your pride overcomes your common sense,” she shrugged. “Oh well! Nothing a good humbling can’t fix.” Simba looks on, horrified, as she brings her full weight down upon him again; this time vertically, so his body was partially submerged between her soft cheeks. Now he was wracked with not only pain, but also tortured by the smell, as his snout was lodged in the leopardess’ crack.
His struggles before were nothing compared to his desperate struggles now. Yewande was normally pretty clean and refined, but with his nose just a hair’s breadth away from her tail hole, the smell was about as foul as you’d expect. Even living with Pumba, Simba had never experienced something that so disgusted him. However, this time, Yewande wasn’t playing around; this was a punishment, not a test. Thus, Simba would be under there for quite a long time…
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