The Filthy Festival - Part 5 - Cleaning up a dirty pup
"But not here," Brian said in a serious tone, "this is simply not going to work."
Billy, the 10year old foxcub was taken back by his father's blunt words. This place was AMAZING for the kind of activities they both loved, his face scrounged up with confusion.
Brian laughed at the sight of his piss, shit and toilet paper covered cub making such a face through the sheer coating of filth he and others had laid upon him. 
"You silly boy! We can't go out of here completely covered in filth! Did you even think about that?"
Billy's eyes widened in realisation, and he looked down at himself, his feet-paws sunk into the mound in the center of the portapotty, utterly unable to see even a hint of red fur on his belly for all the layers of filth and toilet paper he had wormed through not too long ago.
"Dad!" he exclaimed with urgency, "You're right! People would think all sorts of things!"
Brian nodded sagely and tugged absently at his rock-solid erection, somewhat stained with scat and drooling precum, still ready for round 2. His mind churned a little as he had to temporarily dismiss his hornyness and think straight for a minute. Not easy when hungover and drunk on naughty lust!
He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Desperately trying to come up with a solution. The gears clicked in place and he opened his eyes suddenly and smiled down at the cub who was looking expectantly at him. Brownstained teeth shone back as the cub understood his dad had come up with an idea.
"Okay, listen here pup, I'm going to go back to the tent and grab my big rucksack, I'm pretty sure a little guy like you can fit down there." Brian said with conviction, as he took a bunch of sheets of toilet paper and wiped his cock and paws off from the scat his boy had transferred to him. He chucked the now-filthy sheets into the unexpecting face of Billy with a mirthful chuckle.
"Clean yourself up the best you can," he said while getting ready to exit the porta potty, "I'll be back quick as lightning." With that he exited the structure and the door slammed shut which made it shake and Billy almost loose his footing.
"Dumbass!" Billy shouted, with no regard for propriety, and he could hear his dad laugh merrily as he walked away.
The filthy foxcub sourly clawed the filthy sheets of toilet paper off his face, reached over and turned the lock so he wouldn't have any unexpected visitors. The thought of those made his dicklet stir in his sheath, and he wistfully thought about the stallion, the bunny and the wolf that had been there before his dad came along.
Methodical, for a cub, he began by climbing DOWN the mound and retrieving the plastic bag with his shorts and sandals and brought it with him on his perilous climb up the now very disturbed mound of feces, piss and toilet paper. He was able to chuck it over the rim and with a heave he lifted himself up over the edge of the toilet seat, careful to just sit on the seat and not letting his pawpads touch the floor. Not that it helped much as brown slime was dripping from his entire body, the trip down the hole having throughly soaked and filthied up the naughty fox.
He reached for the toilet paper, and managed to grab a decent length of it before it snapped off, and the telltale roll of empty cardboard announced it's depletion.
"Arrrhhhh, Daddy's gonna be PISSED!" he thought to himself, as he couldn't manage to even clear his face-fur with the toilet paper before it was so browned it didn't do anymore good. He looked down at the expanding pool of filth on the floor in front of the toilet and used the paper's remaining dryness to soak it up before climbing back on the toilet seat and sat with his paws resting down the hole, the ripe stench wafting from it eliciting a queasy growl from his stomach and tightening of his balls.
Left with nothing productive to do,  he began to toy with his sheath. The incredibly horniness only a cub could have made yet another erection possible, the telltale red peaking out from an otherwise utterly brown sheath.
When Brian returned he looked furtively left and right before knocking on the stall, and after entering was greeted with his cub holding with his red rocket, knot fully formed and all and dripping pre. He awkwardly shuffled inside and closed the door before saying anything.
"Boy, you are as filthy as when I left you! Why haven't you cleaned yourself up?" he demanded in an exasperated tone, fully convinced his filthy cub had chosen to play instead.
Billy looked up with some amount of hurt and simply pointed to the empty toilet paper dispenser. Brian reached out and felt the cardboard of an empty roll and realised his mistake.
"Sorry Billy, it wouldn't even matter anyways, I don't think you could get clean enough to not mess up the rucksack. Which I why I brought THIS." 
Brian took of his rucksack and opened it up, showing the cub how he had inserted a big, black plastic trashbag into it. Billy's anger at being falsely accused evaporated as he beamed up at his father, "wow dad, you're so smart!"
The older fox blushed a little at the praise, his boy always managing to make him feel like a better man than he often thought of himself.  He smiled as he sat the rucksack on the floor and kept it pried fully open with his paws, the shoulder straps facing the toilet..
"Anyways, get down there, we need to get you to a shower."
Billy gingerly climbed down with first one leg, then the other, and squatted down, the plastic bag crackling from his movements. Such was his agility that he didn't even touch his father's paws as he settled into the rucksack in a sort of squatting fetal position. Brian tightened the cord at the opening and flapped over the cover, leaving Billy to sit uncomfortably in total darkness.
With a dizzying lurch, and a strained grunt, his dad lifted the rucksack up and over his shoulders. What had been a tight fit was now quite uncomfortable as his scat-slicked backside was pressed against his dad's, and his knees and hips were squeezed by the fabric of the rucksack. 
"You okay there, buddy?" Brian asked.
It took Billy a moment to respond as he tried to find a more comfortable position and failed and just accepted the unpleasant pressures on his body. "It- It's okay, just hurry!"
Brian left the porta potty and took one last look at the state of it: the whole of the rim and the backside of the wall was stained brown and yellow from where his cub had been sitting and he almost felt sorry for the next occupant of it. He briefly considered finding a volunteer and telling them the toilet paper was used up but reconsidered when he thought about his poor boy being squeezed inside the rucksack. With that he strode off with long and quick steps.
Billy was rocked to and fro inside the plastic-lined rucksack, his piss-and-shit slick body gliding uncontrollably around, the air quickly getting VERY humid and incredibly smelly as the plastic trapped both the heat and moisture coming off his filthy body. He still had the taste of piss and scat in his mouth, but within a minute it felt like he was litterally inhaling filth deep into his lungs. This was even worse than the tent or the porta potty, this was some kind of filthy hell.
And he loved it.
But his hand-paws were pressed tight against the rucksack near his head, and his needy cock was impossible to reach, spasming in tune to the rocking gait of his dad as the fetid air evaporating off his body was practically gagging him with the smell of filth and turning him on even more. A jolt made gravity lurch and loud burp came from his mouth, the smell of cum and the meal his daddy had just fed him filling the tight space. Precum spattered against plastic as the naughty foxcub grew frustratingly harder without being able to touch himself.
The delicious torment continued for a while as his dad made his over to the area with the showers. Not wanting to be forced to clean up in front of strangers, and to also be able to have a fun time with his son, Brian had opted for the deluxe ticket to the festival, which gave access to several niceties including private shower stalls. Billy could hear him beep! the lock to one of these with his wristband and a door opened and closed with clack! before the rucksack was sat down on the floor of their private little shower.
At this point the young cub was getting rather desperate for both some fresh air and to be able to touch himself, the humid stink inside the rucksack was making his tummy rumble with nausea and his dripping cocklet was screaming for attention, something would have to come out soon! He heard the clasps of the rucksack being opened and anticipated the breath of fresh air. 
Brian had other plans though, as he got ready to open the covering fabric of the rucksack, he positioned himself so that his ass would be right above the corded-up inner entrance. In a swift movement he lifted the cover and squatted down until his ass touched the rucksack.
Billy saw light, just for a moment, before his father's backside blinded it out again. He opened his mouth to protest just as a long and blubbery fart sprayed his face and tongue with droplets of liquid shit and the most god-awful beer-induced fumes. It was almost as if the walls of their private shower reverbrated with the fart and he could feel how the trapped gasses made the plastic bag expand slightly. As soon as the fart ended, Brian closed the covering again and let his boy gag and sputter as the air he breathed was now concentrated fecal methane, easily twice as overpowering as the stench he had already contented with.
The older fox laughed with horny mirth as his semi-hard dick spasmed in arousal from the thought of the filthy torment he was putting his boy through, the protesting sputters and gags turning into needing mewls inside the rucksack as Billy's own cocklet grew even more turgid and drippy from the filthy event. 
Brian opened up the covering again and loosened the chord of the inner opening so that Billy could get a breath of fresh air. The cub practically exploded out of the rucksack and punched his dad on the thigh with mock rage, his stiff dick betraying his anger, before he stumbled from his legs being shaky from their confinement in the rucksack. With a laugh, his daddy catched him before he fell, his eyes almost in tears from how amused he found the whole situation. Meanwhile Billy was in tears as well, from both the gas attack and the humiliation, yet he laughed as well and grunted in lust as he began to hump his father's leg with his cock, smearing the adult with brown streaks of filth.
The nasty father laughed with delight at his little rascal, ruffling his headfur, before dragging him to the small shower. The room consisted of a small changing area with a tiny bench, some plastic hooks for clothing and a mirror on the door, while the shower part was a depressed square with a plastiglass door that could just barely fit the two filthy furs.
Brian turned on the water just a little too hot, and soon steam filled the tiny shower as father and son squirmed from the hot spray before getting accostumed to it. He had been loving filth for many years and quickly found out that the hotter the water the better it cleaned.
On the flipside, with the amount of filth that was running off Billy's fur, it seemed as if the air itself turned as brown as the water circling the drain. The smell was noxious and heavy and the perverted father got a small taste of the hotboxing his son had endured while inside the rucksack. Determined to get the stink under control, he took a solid helping of soap from the dispenser on the wall and kneeled down.
With caring and sensual hands, Brian began to soap in Billy's body, the fruity odour of the shampoo not nearly enough to mask the smells coming off his filthy fur. The cub had been a good boy and not yet touched himself and his red rocket had retreated partially into his sheeth, until his daddy's deft hands soaped up his sheath and balls, pressing and pulling and tugging and squezing all over, quickly getting the cub to moan in pleasure as the whole area was washed with the utmost care. After a bit of a rinse (the first of many, Brian thought), he gulped down the length of his boy, expertly servicing the cocklet and letting his long tongue snake around the knot. His fingers were now kneading and pulling apart Billy's asscheeks, fingers circling the plump buttoms getting ever and every closer to his tailhole. As he pressed two digits against the hole at once, the cocklet in his mouth spasmed and sprayed precum and Billy moaned out loud.
With a slurp, Brian let his mouth go of the needy dicklet and reached his mouth up to give his cub a deep french kiss. His tastebuds were immideately assaulted with the taste excrement and semen and he moaned in delight as he tasted the remains of several furs' scat and piss on his son's tongue. His tongue explored the young cub's mouth and Billy's rose to meet it and they danced a sensual dance inside each others mouths, moaning in unison as each had grabbed each other's hard cock while maintaining the sloppy and slimey kiss.
Moans and groans and slurps filled the tiny stall as they kissed under the hot water, until a sudden and loud burp came from Billy's mouth, filling his daddy's with the putrid stench of beershits. The adult gagged from the taste it left in his mouth and wondered with amazement how his boy could have kept it down for so long without a complaint or puking.
"Damn boy," he said as he broke off the kiss for a moment, "your stomach is as strong as mine!"
Their lips met again in a ferocious kiss and Billy now used two hands to pleasure Brian's cock, one around his knot and one mastrubating him with quick and expert strokes.
The adult fox was using one hand to massage his son's knot, and the other to stick two scat-slicked digits into his son's behind, causing him to tense up and his cock to spasm noticeably in his paw.
Billy burped again from the sudden action in his rear, seemingly pressing air all the through his system, and now Brian got a perverted moment of inspiration and began to press his tongue deeper and deeper into the young cub's mouth, cleaning off his molars before delving deeper still and tickling his ovula. The cub was helpless against the assault and could feel the tongue going deeper and deeper into his mouth and entering his throat, disturbing his ovula and his heroic efforts to keep his father's waste in his stomach.
Brian was now fingerbanging Billy hard, two digits entering to the base of his paw and pulling them out completely with lews slurps, while at the same time massaging the little knot with sensual expertise. His boy did much the same and HIS hand was a blur over the turgid shaft of his dad while his other tugged at the knot so hard he might as well have been trying to pull it off.
With his long fox-tongue Brian was now throatfucking his boy with it, agitating his stomach and causing him to retch and stomach to spasm. Scat-tasting bile rose in Billy's throat and Brian had a moment's notice before he got a taste of jizz on his tongue before it was pushed back by a torrent of his own liquid shit. 
The slew entered his mouth with some force and he groaned in filthy delight as his regurtitated scat was pumped into his mouth, which he kept forcibly locked onto his son's by pressing his head up against the shower wall with the force of his snout. He swallowed the first barfed up scat and his tongue darted right down the foxcub's throat again, causing him to vomit up even more scat, this time clunkier and firmer, the remnants of the first log he had dropped down his gullet not 30 minutes ago.
Billy had tears in his eyes from the vomiting, and his stomach was clenching and unclenching painfully, yet the fingerfucking and massage of his knot brought him ever closer to the edge of climaxing, while his body was spasming from the unpleasant, yet inexplicably arousing sensation of barfing. 
Brian was forcefeeding himself a second helping of his own scat when he noticed the taste and texture change to something different. It was just as foul, but his tastebuds noticed the difference. CUB SCAT... WOLF. "Oh god," his thoughts turned to whoever had filled his boy with such rancid mess as he forced his tongue down his throat for the third time and was rewarded with a runny deluge of wolfcub beershits. He swallowed the filth in huge gulps and moaned as his son jacked him off even harder and faster than before, his bruised knot pulsing with pleasure from being tugged so hard, his mind a blur of filthy naughtiness from it all and the taste of his own scat being overpowered by wolfcub scat spewed out from his son's nasty stomach.
The cub was nearing orgasm at a quickening rate, the contractions from his stomach, the fingers sloppily and with great speed fucking his tailhole, his knot being massaged harder and harder. As his dad forced his tongue down his throat for the fourth time, making him vomit up the last of the wolfcub's beershits in a slurry of wolf piss, bunny piss and extremely acrid stallion piss, he came over the edge. The final heaves of his stomach coinsided with musky and powerful stallion taste and his strongest ejaculation this day, his boyhood spasming and strong jets of semen flew all over.
Brian was near the end of his capacity for scat, so the taste of piss was a welcome one. His own climax was imminent, and the hard tugging on his knot and Billy's increasingly unsteady jerking him off combined with the new flavours of three kinds of piss made him moan into his son's mouth as he too came over the edge. The acrid stallion piss being the final straw.
With growls and groans and slurps and gags they both came simultaniously, each painting each other white with powerful shots of jizz that filled the humid air in the shower with their musky smells, ALMOST overpowering the stench of scat and piss that Brian had failed to ingest and had run down his muzzle, dropping to the floor in a pool of brown and yellow. 
Father and son continued to make out in the afterglow, still caressing each other's softening dicks with whimpers and moans, their tongues darting into each others' mouths, searching for tiny morsels and the exquisitely filthy tastes they both so enjoyed, Brian's fingers still deeply embedded in the cub's tailhole, feeling the spasms of climax getting weaker and weaker.
Brian reached up for the dial of the shower and turned it even hotter.
Steam filled the room.