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A Gay Lion King Parody

Chapter 1: The Prince's Beginnings

Sponsored by Johnzaloog

By Draconicon

Beneath Pride Rock, the Ritual of the Heir had begun, and the lion pride had assembled to see the breeding that would give Mufasa an heir to his throne.

The great gray chamber of stone was lit with torches of savannah grasses and reeds pulled from the shallow rivers at the edge of the Pride Lands, and the ground was marked with the spilled juices of Rafiki's fruits, marking the edges of the ritual ground. Several spots were marked with spikes along the edges of the circle, and on those points, chosen lions stood and stroked themselves, pulling their cocks up and squeezing them tightly.

Mufasa, his great gold-brown mane shimmering in the torchlight, stood outside the circle by his old friend. He looked around the pride, the all-male gathering either standing at the edge of the ritual jerking off, teasing themselves, edging their cocks, or sitting back and kneeling to bear witness. He shook his head.

"Scar's not coming."

"Haha, did you expect your brother?" Rafiki asked with his cracked laugh. "He never attends the big events. Such a peculiar lion. Always so envious, so moody, and broody."

All true, but only Rafiki would say such things, even to those that disliked the king's brother. Mufasa shook his head.

"It would have been better to have him here."

"Heh, it would only rub his fall in his face. Let him enjoy his solitude."

Solitude. If Mufasa knew his brother, solitude was the last thing that the scarred one would be enjoying. But there was little that he could do about that. Not now, not so late in their lives.

If he doesn't want to be present during the presentation of my son, then that's his choice, he thought, crossing his arms. If he wants to give up what little respect he has left, let him.

"Hehehe, your majesty. Best not look so angry, or you might scare the cub's 'mother.'"

Shaking his head, the king let a smile creep back onto his face. He patted the old baboon on the back, then stepped into the circle. He could feel it; it was time.

The King of the Pride was linked to the land, and the land was linked with him. So it had been since the start of the pride, and so it would be unto the end of time. Mufasa strode through the circle, pulling at the great land that he ruled, and felt the forceful surge of life that was everything that lived upon his kingdom.

Thud, thud, thud went the great thundering wildebeests as they crossed the land.

Swish, splash, crash, went the tails and jaws of the crocodiles of the river.

Click-clack went the hooves of the antelopes through the grass and the hard ground.

And the constant, low-level rumble of it all thudded up through the soles of his feet and into his heart. The King was the embodiment of his people, and through him, the land flourished.

He savored the feeling of power, feeling it rumble about in his chest like happiness given life. As he felt it surge, he pulled a small piece of it free, a tiny chunk of the life energy of the kingdom, and pushed it back into the ground beneath his feet.

It pushed up, the body of a lion formed of stone appearing on the ground. It was still connected to the earth by a small chunk of rock, just enough to hold it aloft. It was a statue of a child, nothing more.

A statue, he admitted, that he could barely see with Sakabi's rump in the way.

The wide-hipped lion turned, his neck shorn of mane and his eyes bright with affection. Mufasa smiled as he came up behind his chief concubine, his greatest lover, running his hand along a familiar rump.

"Are you ready to give life to our son?" he asked, his voice quiet, but deep, booming for Sakabi's ears alone.

"Mmm, I am, my dear."

The shorn lion pushed back, muscled rump squeezing around the Lion King's shaft, pulling it down and into place. Mufasa growled low, his hands clenching into fists, his claws popping out and then disappearing again as he slid into place.

The Pride did not reproduce the way that others did. All males, they relied on the rituals of Rafiki and the power of the King over the land to bring about new lions. The King gave his life through the land, and then the 'mother' gave the stone life through his seed.

It was not required for the King to breed the seed from the 'mother,' but it did make it that much more enjoyable.

As the other lions he'd chosen continued to spill their seed for Rafiki's ritual, granting life essence to the circle, Mufasa knelt behind his chief concubine. His cock was already hard, the barbed head dripping over the pucker waiting for him as Sakabi spread his legs a bit further, his tail twitching and the little tuft at the end tickling between the larger lion's pecs.

"Go on, my King...breed me."

"Mmm, Sakabi. I will."

He gripped his cock at the base, holding it tight. The power of the land was still within him, and the King closed his eyes, pulling it a bit deeper into him.

After all, the power of the land was not merely to create new life.

His hips were still, but his cock slid into his concubine's hole regardless. Sakabi started purring immediately, arching his back and thrusting his ass back, impaling himself.

"Mmm, you're cheating, dear."

"Heh, a King can't cheat."

"Mmph...you're so big...and you're still growing..."

He was growing, though he'd soon stop. Mufasa was naturally endowed with a large cock, nearly eight inches long without being touched. Using the power of the King, he could draw more of it out, pulling it up to a full twelve inches, and that was what he was using on his lover right then.

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sakabi, trusting his lover to keep them upright as he started rocking back and forth. Lifting his hips, his tail going up, showing off his muscular rump to the entirety of the pride before bringing his hips forward again, gliding his cock into that tight little hole.

Sakabi moaned beneath him as he started to pick up the pace, his heavy balls swinging forward with a soft pat, pat, pat against that eager rump. The shaven lion beneath him kept moaning, pulling him onwards, dragging him to keep sliding his cock deeper, deeper, and deeper still. Somehow, he could fit all of his barbed shaft into that hole.

Practice, he supposed. Sakabi could fit an elephant under that tail, and had done several times during their negotiations with other tribes of the Pride Lands.

"Mmm...you're nice and tight..."

"Just for you, my King. Just for you."

They rocked together, the smell of pre-cum turning to full cum as the ritual continued. The life energy of the different lions chosen for this spilled out in silver strings, pouring down to the middle of the circle. The baboon went from one to another, whispering words of encouragement, offering hand and foot to any shaft that needed a little extra encouragement.

The hot, heavy smell of sex pushed the king to go harder, deeper, thrusting faster into his lover, and Sakabi pushed back against him, the wet, heavy smack of cock on flesh filling the air. In and out, in and out, that soft, pulling sensation of his lover's hole drawing him in again and again. He growled under his breath, nuzzling against his partner's maneless neck, panting against it.

"Mmmph...Oh, yeah..."

"You love my ass, Mufasa..."

"It's the best...give it to me...push back harder..."

"My pleasure..."

And as his lover pushed back, riding the King's cock, just about fucking himself on it, Mufasa leaned back, looking down at the rock that would become his son.

Pre-cum dribbled over the small guy, soaking the rock and gradually turning it from gray stone to something different. Golden, living, slowly bringing it to life.

From the unliving to the living, come forth to our world.

As the smaller, slimmer lion rode his cock, getting closer and closer to orgasm, the baboon started howling. The screams and screeches echoed across the walls, calling out the words of power in the old tongues. They came back to him, and Mufasa grunted in time, feeling his seed rising from his balls.

Thump, thump, thump went that rounded rump against his cock, his barbs swelling, his balls rising.

"Fill me, my King...fill me...fill me!"

And Mufasa, for once, did as he was commanded rather than the other way around.

With a deep moan, he came hard, his cock pulsing as he felt his release. The ritual pulled it from him less pleasurably than it felt, normally, but it was still pleasant. For Sakabi, however -

"Nnnngh! Oh god...yes!"

The lion beneath him spasmed as he came, shooting a load over the small statue beneath him. The golden light already spreading through the rock glowed brighter, and cracks spread across the stone.

They split immediately, not daring to be too close when the cub came through. Some proprieties still had to be observed, after all.

Mufasa leaned down, cracking the rock pedestal beneath his son, lifting him up in the air. By the time that the glow had faded, all of the rest of the stone had fallen, leaving a healthy baby lion in his arms.

"Simba...the heir to Pride Rock..."

He turned the cub about, presenting him to the rest of the pride.

"Simba, my son!"

The room echoed with the roars of every lion beneath him, every member of the pride welcoming the heir and acknowledging him.

All, that was, save one, who watched from the shadows through one whole eye and one deeply scarred.

#

Eighteen years later...

Simba was free, having finally shaken off both Zazu and Naka a few moments before. They were still circling around the watering hole, seeing if they could pick up his trail, as far as he could see. The flying advisor to the Pride was still circling far up in the sky, while his friend and bodyguard was still leaping from rock to rock about the watering hole, probably looking for where he might surface.

Heh, lost 'em good, he thought, congratulating himself as he crouched into the long grass. The longer blades tickled his balls as he hid himself, crawling along in the shadows of the savannah. Now to find some fun.

He knew that he'd get a talking-to later, considering that he was ducking out of his training, but his father always cut him a break at the end of the day. Sure, there'd be some shouting, some growling, but his dad always let him off light. Besides, it was only fight-training, and he was already pretty good at that.

Sneak training, on the other hand...

Simba bit his lips as the blades of grass continued to tickle him, running down from his chest to his dick, some of the smaller blades even getting between his toes as he made his way further and further from the watering hole. It was slow but steady progress. Slow enough to tell him that he needed to get better at this.

He looked over his shoulder from time to time, watching the sky to see if Zazu had widened his circles yet. If that happened before he was far enough away, Naka and Zazu would find him quickly, drag him back to Pride Rock, and then put him to work. He needed to avoid that.

Thankfully, he got lucky. By the time that old banana beak thought to start looking further afield, Simba had left the watering hole far behind. He pulled himself upright, stretching out his back and kneading just above the base of his tail.

"Mmph...man, I need to get better at that. Bet Sakabi could have done that in half the time."

His 'mom' could have done it far faster than that, and he knew it. The shaved lion was one of the better hunters in the pride, and certainly one of the best stalkers. If Sakabi didn't want someone to know he was around, then nobody knew.

Except his dad. Mufasa knew where everyone was, all the time.

That's gotta be cool, he thought as he stepped out of the grass, the long plants giving his balls one final caress as he left them behind. Knowing where everyone is, able to protect everyone. Being all awesome.

The lion prince chuckled as he knelt down by a small creek that came off of the watering hole. It was a bit muddier this far down, but it was still easy to look at himself in it.

No mane just yet, but the beginning of the brown fur that would eventually surround his neck was coming in. A bit of red on the top of his head, a little string of it coming down to the back of his neck. Not much, but it served as the prince's crown to anyone that looked his way, just like his dad's mane served as the king's crown.

All the other lions kept their necks shaved down, trimmed and short. The only exception was his uncle, and Scar only had that right because he was the king's brother.

Pretty cool mane, too, he thought, running his hands along the sides of his neck. All black, like the night sky. Man, I'd look cool with that...

Simba chuckled, shaking his head as he brought his hands down to the water, getting rid of the grass stains on his hands and the bits of mud that he'd picked up along the way. After all, no point hunting some fun when you were all dirty.

As rulers of the Pride Lands, the lions were more or less allowed to hunt anyone that they wanted. Not for meat, precisely, but as sport, a way of keeping their warrior and hunting skills sharp. The various tribes that pledged loyalty to his dad were all aware of the treaties, allowing the lions to take their fun if they were caught, and giving up any service that they were asked to perform once pinned.

Food was another matter. They had other ways of getting that, from sacrifices from the weak among the various tribes (sometimes used as a mercy killing for those that had been injured) to the more common way of hunting the dumb beasts that lived on the north side of the kingdom. Food was never a problem, and was the more boring part of hunting, anyway.

And besides...Simba wanted to see how it felt to really enjoy someone else.

The prince smiled as he cupped his balls with one hand and fondled his cock with the other. A little pull on the shaft had the barbs popping out already, and he groaned as he felt his cock starting to rise.

"Heh...today's the day I find someone to rut..."

His dad had told him to wait until he was of age to start playing around with the other tribes. Sure, he'd had plenty of fun on his own for the last few years, both with his cock and with his ass, but he had never had the chance to hunt down his own playthings. He had seen his dad do it, had seen his 'mom' do it, and he had even gotten the chance to see Zazu be the recipient of it more than once.

But today, he would find out what it felt like and never have to rely on his hand again.

Clean and scentless, the prince stalked off, looking for tracks.

After following the flatlands into the rockier areas just south of Pride Rock, something else caught his interest. Not tracks, but a sound. Something grunting, gasping, as well as the sound of something purring.

Simba cocked his head to the side as he squatted down on one of the rocks, perking up his ears as his tail twitched back and forth behind him. The more he listened, the more it sounded like something in distress.

What the heck's going on over there? he thought, finally pinpointing where the sound was coming from. It was just behind the edge of the circle of rocks to his right. The prince dropped to the ground, keeping to a low crouch as he stalked forward. He moved on all fours, his toes finding softer earth to sink into, keeping the sound he made to a minimum.

The sound got louder, and it sounded almost like that time when he and Naka had stumbled onto one of the hunters playing with a zebra. All the striped equines made the same high-pitched squeals when they were getting teased, whether that meant that they were getting fucked or having their balls played with. The big striped males were very fond of their equipment, very proud of their balls, and always made that high-pitched sound when someone touched them.

Had one of the hunters caught a zebra this close to Pride Rock? That would have been strange.

Simba poked his head around the corner, only to go wide-eyed immediately.

Scar, he thought, seeing his uncle with a zebra kneeling in front of him. The black-footed herbivore whimpered, gasping, shaking, face both blushing and pale at the same time.

"Please, please," the zebra whined. "Not...no more...I can't...please..."

"You will take as much as I tell you to take..."

Scar's voice was as dark and deep as ever, and his uncle smirked down at his striped prey. Simba stared, unable to look away as the zebra's legs spread just enough for him to see what was going on.

Beneath the throbbing black horsecock, the zebra's balls were pinned to the ground, half-crushed beneath Scar's toes. His uncle's claws were out, but they weren't quite scraping the sensitive orbs. Threatening them, yes, but not quite scraping them, not quite leaving them marked.

But the pressure from his uncle's foot should have been crushing the zebra's erection. It should have made the herbivore scream from pain. Instead...

Simba stared at the big black cock sticking out from between the zebra's legs. He'd seen them before, seen the way that they throbbed when the hunters fucked one of their playthings. They were huge, but he'd never seen one this hard before. The sides were stiff, puffy, and the tip was dripping like mad.

Scar suddenly grabbed the top of the shaft with his other foot, squeezing, and the zebra whinnied again, the herbivore throwing his head back, his mane falling in sweaty strands along the back of his neck.

"Did I say you could stop begging?" Scar asked, pleasantly, if not kindly. "If you want to leave with this intact, you'd best do as I say."

"Mmph...what...what do you want?"

"Mmm, no. It's what you want, grass-eater," the lion growled. "You want to beg me to let you suck my cock."

"Please...please, just don't - nnnngh!"

Again, the zebra whinnied, leaning forward and puffing for breath afterwards. As his uncle lifted his foot from the top of the zebra's shaft, Simba saw that the underside was coated with pre.

How? How can that guy be...

There was no question that the zebra was getting pleasure out of what his uncle was doing to him, but it made no sense. Scar was hurting him, taunting him, humiliating him. How the hell was this...

Simba blinked, looking down as he felt his cock twitching. To his shock, it was already rising up, getting stiffer, that familiar hard, tense feeling filling his crotch as it always did when he saw something particularly hot. He'd had it before, seeing the King and his 'mother' fucking, and he had felt it when Zazu occasionally showed off his body in a dance for the pride, but...

For this?

Despite himself, he looked back just in time to see his uncle grab the zebra by the throat, pulling him down and forcing the horse's mouth around his cock. The sound of the herbivore gagging normally would have turned him off, made him want to look away, but this time...

Hesitantly, he reached down and grabbed his cock, giving it a few slow pumps. As he ran his thumb over the head of his cock, rustling the barbs, he couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to do what his uncle was doing.

Not so meanly, of course. After all, he wasn't like that. He didn't want to hurt people, but ordering them to do what he wanted, making them let him do whatever he wanted...

His cock twitched at the thought, and his hand sped up as he watched his uncle take it further.

Scar squeezed the zebra's neck tight, tight enough for the prince to see the bulge of the other lion's cock through the equine's flesh. It was thick, pointed, and it was throbbing just as much as his own dick was. But his uncle...

"Mmmph..."

He bit off a groan as he saw just how big his uncle was. Every time that Scar pulled the zebra back, Simba was treated to the sight of a thick shaft that was probably twice his own's width, and the length...

Dad's cock isn't that big...

Simba was losing himself in the show, unable to look away as he watched his uncle fuck the zebra's throat, keeping the equine in place with toes and claws pushing hard on his balls. Thrust, thrust, thrust went the dark lion's hips, burying his cock down the zebra's throat, yet his uncle's face was still as calm as could be.

He's enjoying this...Man, what does that feel like...

Pumping his cock harder and harder, Simba breathed in the scents around him. The thick, heady musk of the zebra's sweaty body, the slightly more bitter scent of his uncle, the hot, heavy smell of pre-cum and cock: it all played on him, making his cock swell that much harder as he started to imagine himself in his uncle's place. He wanted to see what it would feel like to fuck someone's throat like that. He wanted to know how it felt to use someone for his pleasure and nothing else.

He wanted to...to step on someone like that...to feel how it felt to own someone like a lion should...

The prince was right on the verge of climax when he saw the first red lines opening on the sides of the zebra's neck. The sight of blood shook him out of his needy trance, and Simba jumped out from his hiding place.

"Hey! Let him go!"

Scar looked up slowly, and for a moment, Simba thought that his uncle might actually challenge him on the command. There was no right for the older lion to do it, for all that he was the King's brother, but he might have done.

Then the moment passed, and Scar's fingers left the zebra's neck. He chuckled.

"Why, my favorite nephew," he said, his voice rising up from its normal velvety depths. "What brings you out to this side of Pride Rock? Aren't you supposed to be training? Or are you too busy looking for...fun?"

Painfully aware of his erection, Simba resisted the urge to cover himself. He crossed his arms instead, shaking his head at his uncle.

"Let him go, Scar. He's done everything that you wanted him to do."

"He hasn't made me finish yet, nephew. Surely you understand that the other tribes need some...encouragement...from time to time?"

"He -"

"Oh, are you feeling sorry for him?" Scar chuckled, finally pulling his foot up. "Let him tell you himself."

The prince hesitated, then knelt down by the gasping zebra. He helped the bleeding grass-eater to his knees, holding him steady as he checked the wounds on his neck.

Not bad. Just a few scratches, nothing serious. It had looked serious from his hiding place, though, particularly with the blood that stained the white parts of the zebra's fur.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine...I'm fine, your highness," the zebra panted.

"But...he was hurting you."

"I...I liked it, your highness. See?"

Looking down, Simba was shocked to see that the zebra was still hard as a rock. Despite all the pain, despite getting injured, he was fine. In fact, he actually looked rather wantingly back at Scar, as if waiting for permission to continue.

"...Get out of here," Simba whispered.

"But...but your highness..."

"Get out."

He pushed the zebra, sending him running off. It wasn't a very good run, considering the horsecock that was pointing straight forward as the equine ran off, but the grass-eater managed it better than most would have.

As Simba stared after him, trying to sort out his thoughts, Scar stepped up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You're confused, aren't you?" his uncle asked with a chuckle.

"You were hurting him...and he wanted you to keep doing it."

"Oh, Simba. There will always be those that want you to use your authority over them."

"We're the pride, though. We're supposed to take care of them, make sure that everyone stays safe from the Outlanders. We're not supposed to hurt them."

"Then why are you so hard from seeing me do it, hmm?"

It wasn't the first time one of the Pride had reached down, patting his cock, but it was the first time that one of them had wrapped their fingers around it and squeezed. Simba gasped, his eyes going wide as he thrust his hips forward without even thinking. His uncle stood behind him, his hard-on pressed against the small of the prince's back.

"Heh, you were tempted, Simba. Let me tell you this now. Those like the zebra will find pleasure in submission. Those like you and I...will find pleasure in domination."

"What...what do you..."

"Think about it, Simba."

His uncle stroked him twice more before letting him go, and the smaller lion panted for breath as he was suddenly released. He turned, but his uncle had already leaped for the top of the rocks around them. He had a single glance at a red-furred rump and pair of dusty feet before his uncle was gone.

Just like that, he was left with more questions than he had answers for. The fact that his uncle had been so free with his...

Was it even cruelty? The zebra hadn't had any reason to lie about saying that he wanted it, and he even seemed to crave the roughness, the pain. Why would anyone want that?

Would he want it from me?

Simba shivered as the thought popped into his head, trying to push it back out again, but the temptation was still there. He'd been annoyed at some of his father's subjects before. Would it feel good to lash out at them, if they wanted to be lashed out at? Would it feel good to hit them, tease them, torture them? Would it be something that they liked?

Would it be something he liked?

His cock twitched, still, and he didn't like the way that his body seemed to be considering actually hurting someone. He shook his head, putting it out of his mind. It wasn't like he could find out, anyway, not without some partner to play with.

Starting to wish I hadn't let that zebra go...

He glanced off in the direction the grass-eater had run in, considering chasing after him, only to hear a soft caw in the air. Simba rolled his eyes, knowing full well what that particular sound meant.

"Yeah, yeah, you found me, Zazu," he muttered. "Down here, banana-beak!"

The hornbill landed without a sound on the rocky ground beside him. Thankful that his erection had finally gone down, the lion leaned against one of the rocks, one foot flat on the ground, the other with just the toes on the ground.

"Took you long enough to find me."

"You've certainly improved your skills in stealth, your highness," the prissy bird said, sniffing through his oversized beak. "But you have wasted quite enough time with these fun and games of yours. It is time to return to your training."

"Yeah? Who's gonna make me? You?" he asked with a smirk.

"Don't think I couldn't, young sir, but I have help."

"Heh, I don't see any help."

Zazu smiled, pointing upward with one blue finger. Simba followed the gesture, looking up and behind -

"Oh, come on!"

Naka was already crouching on the top of the rock over him, having climbed it completely silently. Simba threw himself forward, but it was too late. His oldest friend - and technically, his bodyguard - slammed into him from behind, the pair of them rolling head over heels across the ground.

Simba spun, trying to get some leverage, but Naka was already pinning his arms. His shoulders slammed into the ground, they started to roll, then his friend slammed them back down, straddling him with ease.

"Pinned ya," the cream-colored lion said with a smirk.

"Ugh. Come on, that wasn't even fair."

"Oh, and you running away from training was?"

"I was having fun."

"And I wasn't. So, there. Nya."

Naka stuck out his tongue, then rolled off of him. Simba sighed, waiting until his bodyguard offered him a hand before taking it and getting to his feet.

There was no point in pouncing Naka back. Ever since they were teens, his friend had always managed to knock him down when they fought. The only reason he'd even tried to fight the pin after being tackled was pure instinct.

One of these days, I'll figure out how to get you, he thought.

"Let's get back to Pride Rock," Naka said. "Sakabi and Sarakiba want to teach us how to fight properly today."

"Come on, I already know how to fight."

"Can you pin me yet?"

"...No."

"Then you're not good enough yet."

"Why? Come on, I have you to protect me."

"One of the King's rules, your highness," Zazu said, falling into step behind them. "One must always be a better fighter than the ones that protect you. There may be times when you have to protect them."

"That, and it's just not fun when I can beat you without breaking a sweat," Naka added.

"That's it!"

Simba lunged for his friend, they went spinning...and once more, he ended up flat on his back.

"Pinned ya again."

The End