The Ascension
An of age lion performs a sacred ritual with his father the King that seals his manhood and title as prince.
I remember the night of my Ascension. The day of my twentieth season, where I would be officially be named an heir to the throne. I was not the primary heir, no, that privilege belonged to my eldest brother, then the middle brother, and then me. But the day was no less celebrated in leonine culture. The whole tribe attended the festivities, bonfires and dancing and songs. A great hunt the day before to provide feasts of meat and exotic and rare vegetables and fruits. Being royalty, we were all at the center of it, of course. My father the King, my mother the Queen, and my two older brothers all at the helm, with my uncles, aunts, cousins, many living in neighboring tribes now, also in attendance.
However, the festivities, though great, were not the Ascension. The true bestowing of the title of Heir. The true ritual of rationing the king's power onto his sons so that they may one day surpass him as King and ruler, as well as man and father. That was for later that night, when the citizens of the pride went back to their homes. There was no audience, no loud songs and music nor dance nor feast. It was simply my father and I.
I had been educated for some time on the ritual, on my duties when it was complete, and on the privileges it bestowed. A king had many responsibilities here in the savanna where the lions ruled. As I had two brothers before me, the responsibilities I were given were somewhat lesser in stature than theirs, but no less important; I would be placed in charge of managing trade amongst our tribe and the neighboring ones. I had a proper mind for numbers, where my brothers were larger and stronger than I, being given responsibility for warriors and hunting.
I had even been given the choice to not participate in the ritual. All males were given this choice, although few took it, and none in our family had done so for many years. I would not be given new responsibilities, but I would not be given new privileges either. The festivities would still go on and our tribe would not be told. The Ascension was not a public affair. It was private, only for the King and his sons, and nobody else's.
But I did not take the choice. I was nervous, but had made my decision. I would perform the ritual with my father.
That night, when the celebrations subsided and the public had gone home, our relatives had taken their huts for the night to stay with us, and my brothers and mother had went their ways, my father took me out of the village. We travelled for some time into the wild, through the grassland and brush and into the wooded lands. After nearly an hour of travel, he led me to a clearing he had prepared. On the ground, an unlit but prepared bonfire, and next to it, an ornate, hand made bowl with a small, unfamiliar bunch of leaves inside. The night was calm but slightly cold, our only clothing being our loincloths. I was specifically told to wear no more.
The bowl was key to the Ascension. It was to be carved and decorated by the King specially for the son it was meant for. Mine was decorated with images of my birth and of the first hunt I took with my father, and detailed with chants and symbols of power and strength.
My father motioned for me to sit down near the unlit fire. He sat several feet ahead of me, the bowl between us, on a small pedestal of rocks. He told me of being a King, of being a father, and of my duties. He asked once more if I wished to perform the ritual, and I confirmed. He nodded, and began. I was instructed to simply watch for now.
My father rose up slightly, moving to sit on his knees. He removed the small bundle of leaves from the bowl and squeezed them onto his hands, a slightly thin oil coating them as he massaged them into his palms and fingers. He then placed his hands at his sides and began unfastening the ties of his loincloth. One side came undone, and then the other. He was in full view of me now. My stomach skipped slightly as though the first time I saw my brothers nude when we played and experimented with each other in private, which was strictly forbidden yet never quite heeded. His groin was covered in soft dark fur, the same that covered his chest and ran down his stomach in a thin line and matched his deep hazel mane. His penis was large and pendulous, slightly larger than my own, dangling and waving slightly in the gently breeze. He carefully folded his loincloth into a small square and placed it at the center of the unlit fire next to us.
My father closed his eyes, his head moving back and pointing towards the night sky, and began massaging his testicles with one hand and his still flaccid manhood with the other. I could hear him grunting ever so softly as he caressed himself, becoming slowly harder and larger. I couldn't help but do the same, my own erection growing quite a bit faster and now bulging my cloth. He was now completely erect, stroking himself along the full length of his shaft while continuing the machinations on his groin. He pumped slowly but with force, twisting his hand around as he reached the head of his penis. His grunting and moaning had become louder now, and I thought I could hear a soft purr escaping him. His hips began thrusting into himself, his jerking becoming stronger and faster, while his left hand continued kneading his testicles.
I watched in awe as my father pleasured himself, becoming a man I had not seen before, listening intently to the sounds of his grunting and of his well oiled hands pumping along his length. I couldn't help but fidget and twitch as my own desires grew and my own manhood ached, yet I was to do nothing yet but watch. My father grew more forceful, his grunts increasing in intensity to a nearly frightening degree. His left hand left his testicles and moved the bowl under him, and he collapsed down onto one arm, his other still pumping away while his breathing grew heavier and sweat dripped from his brow. It had been nearly ten minutes now and I could barely stand it any longer, having to resist the powerful urge to touch myself as well.
When I began to think my own desires were becoming too much to bear, my father's body tensed up and his jerking slowed, now only twisting his enclosed fist around his tip. His grunts shot up in pitch to nearly a wimper, his face changing to one begging for release, and he did. His seed exploded forth into the chill air, landing in the bowl underneath him in several large spurts, a few drops spilling to the ground having missed their mark in my father's passion. He exhaled heavily and breathed hard as the last drops fell, his other arm now moving to help support the weight of his body. A few seconds later, his breathing still slightly labored, he sat up straight again and wiped his brow. I couldn't help but watch his penis, now softening, flop donward onto his slightly smaller, now drained balls as he adjusted his position.
After a few brief moments of his recovering, he told me to stand up and move forward. I did so, blushing slightly at my hard penis waved around freely and nearly pulling my loincloth loose. I went down to my knees before him and as I did he began to undoe my own ties, my cloth soon dropping, leaving me fully exposed and vulnerable, my blush intensifying. He again folded the cloth delicately and placed it into the fire, on top of his own, though mine slightly dampened with anticipation. I had hoped he hadn't noticed in the darkness, though I'm sure he did. He then stood fully on his feet, his still free manhood at near eye level, though I did not mind, and unashamadly, though trying not to be noticed, kept my gaze there as he moved around to kneel behind me.
He wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, and I could feel gentle touches of his nethers on my lower back, which made my skin tingle and my erection twitch. His right arm moved towards it, his left towards my balls, and began the ritual again, now myself in his place. I gasped slightly as his hand wrapped around my penis, the first touch I would receive from him, but not the last. My eyes closed and my mouth hung open, his left hand softly juggling my balls and his right slowly moving up and down my shaft. His paws were soft with oil and remnants of his own seed, velvety and warm on my exposed spin. I could already feel my body begin to weaken, so I leaned backward into him, his large, strong body supporting me. I could now feel his soft purr and I involuntarily began as well. Also involuntarily, I thrust into his hand, though he seemed to loosen his grip when I did as though he was trying to make this last as long as possible. I knew I would certainly not last as long as he had. My breathing became a wimper as I cringed in his grip, completely under his control. His left hand moved from my testicles to massage my thigh and stomach, his gentle touch sending tingles along my body. My arms held his tightly as if I would fall away if I didn't, the same as when I grabbed onto him as hard as I could as a frightened cub.
Soon he whispered to me to lean forward, and he supported my weight, removing his hands from my pleasures for a moment to help me until I was kneeling on the ground, supported by my arms, my backside fully presented to him. He spread my legs further and reached around them and onto my cock, resuming his pumping. My balls, now hanging down, bounced up and down onto the top of his hand. As he adjusted his position to straddle my right leg, I could feel his buttocks and testicles, a sensation which I slightly missed from my previous position, and I could have sworn I felt an accidental prod of his possibly hard again shaft against my thigh. A few moments later, I felt a gentle prodding and warm sensation under my tail as one of his fingers felt their way inside, wet with what I could only presume was his own saliva. I suspected this act was not an explicitly detailed part of tradition, but thanks to the shockwaves it sent up my spine, I felt no protest. As his finger pushed inside me to massage my prostate, I wrapped my tail around his wrist and arm, both in show of how much I appreciated the motions and how much I didn't want them to stop.
My wimpering grew with every second now as I was fully under his control. He pointed me straight down and I could not thrust without discomfort, and my anus clenched around his finger while it tickled around inside me. I wimpered like a cub while his velvety soft hand pumped me, his force growing now. I could feel a familiar pulling sensation from my loins and I told him I was nearly there. He pushed his fingers further into me, my hips forcing themselves back onto his arm, and his other hand began twisting around my tip furiously. I moaned so loudly that I alarmed mself and quieted as much as I could, though there was nobody around for miles. Mere seconds later I began to climax, and his hand moved up away from the stream, my seed pouring forth into bowl below me, the same that he himself had came in just a few minutes earlier.
As my spasms subsided, he gently removed his hands from under my tail and around my now limp cock, giving both it and my balls a playful jiggle and squeeze before he moved to my side, his arms wrapping around me to help me up. I then fell backwards slightly, laying on the ground and still panting from exhaustion. He hadn't said anything at all during my part of the ritual except his order for me to present myself to him, but through squinted eyes I saw him smiling widely as he picked up the bowl we had both filled and placed it into the fire with our cloths. Soon there began a crackle as he lit the fire, and he instructed me to sit with him and watch as our coverings and seed burned away. Soon our yawning grew too much, and we layed down near the growing fire. He held me in his arms like he had done when I was young and congratulated me on a job well done. He even told me with a smirk, with instructions to not mention this to anyone else, that my seed had been greater than either of my brothers. He also told me that I would greatly enjoy the next morning, and to rest well. We drifted off towards sleep there on the ground near the fire, our naked bodies entwined with each other. I could feel his bare chest on my back, his thighs against my legs, and his cock touching my thigh. And before we fell asleep, he wordlessly placed his large hand onto my own manhood, shielding it from the growing cold.
The next morning, the fire was nearly gone to embers. He had awoken me, having been awake himself for long enough to gather a small breakfast of berries and a fish that was cooking on the glowing pit. He did not mention why he said I would enjoy this morning, and I did not ask. We ate, and talked, our bodies still naked to the world and to each other and to each others' eyes. Soon though, he told me that with the ritual having been completed, I was now allowed to partake in the privileges I was now bestowed; that to make love freely to my male family members; my brothers, my uncles, my grandfather, and him. I did not tell him, though, that my brothers and I had done at least a few things when we were younger, though when he mentioned my brothers, he winked slightly, which gave me the small impression that he already knew. I also did not tell him of the time when my eldest brother and I, while searching for our secret hunting practice area, had stumbled upon him and his own brother making furious love in the brush. They had not seen us and we stayed in private, watching the scene with lustful curiosity and exploring our own bodies in the process, leaving our young seed in the bushes and leaving quietly and quickly before we were discovered, but not being able to witness their finishing.
As he spoke to me, and as these old images flashed through my mind, his hand massaged my inner thigh and I now knew what he meant. He continued touching and massaging me and I grew hard quickly, before he leaned back so that I may do the same to him. Despite the ritual last night when I watched him masturbate, my stomach flipped again slightly in nervousness, as he was now presented here for my full touch and manipulation. I grasped his thick cock in both hands, moving it around and exploring its feel, another tingle shooting up my spine as I did so. As he hardened, I began to touch his testicles, feeling underneath them towards his tail with my fingertips (which caused a small gasp in my father, which I mentally noted for use later). His cock bounced around fully erect as I explored his body in childlike awe. I gripped him in one hand and began moving up and down, the same as he had done to me and to himself last night. He moaned this time, his head moving back a bit. He gave small instructions to me as I did this, detailing to me the underside of his head, the base, underneath his balls and towards his tailhole. As he mentioned each of these, I tried them, eliciting varying groans and praise as I did so. Soon though, he pushed my hands away and told me to stand up.
I did so, my erection again waggling about right in front of his face, another blush coming to my cheeks. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me inward, his mouth opening wide and then enclosing around me, causing me to grunt in surprise at his actions and the sensation it caused. His mouth suckled at my cock and he poked and prodded around with the tip of his tongue as he massaged my thighs. I placed my hands on his head and shoulders, holding on for dear life. He slurped and sucked on me for a few moments, and then dove his head further, encasing my entirety in his mouth causing me to gasp loudly. The tip of his tongue poked out at my balls, its base now massaging my tip as his lips writhed upon my base. I whined and cringed and would not last long, but soon he pulled away.
Confused, I watched him as he adjusted his position, turning around and kneeling on all fours, presenting himself to me. He told me to mount him and to drive my seed into him as to demonstrate that I could properly breed with my future wife. Driven by lust, I did so without hesitation and kneeled behind him, and guided my cock to his tailhole. I went in slowly at first, groaning as I did, not knowing how quickly I should enter him. But he grew impatient and slid backwards, impaling himself upon me with a grunt. I began thrusting into him as he rocked back and forth. I held onto him with one hand upon his back and one gripping his tail and watched my manhood delve into him over and over again. We moaned together and my father began jerking himself furious, supporting himself on one arm. As he did so I could feel our balls make contact several times, which only drove my lust further. As my grunting turned to wimpers, he said to me, in his caring, fatherly voice with which I was so familiar, to come whenever I needed to. My body seemed to take this permission and run with it; I felt my balls draw in and my head begin to swim as though I was leaving my body. I leaned over him, unable to fully support my own weight anymore, and thrust as much as I could while he continued to rock into me and back into his own paw. I called out to him as my body convulsed and my thrusting stopped, and I felt him begin to climax as well, his hole twitching and clenching around me. We came together loudly, our bodies linked physically and spiritually. Soon, he collapsed onto the ground, my penis pulling out of him in the process, and I fell too on top of him. Both exhausted, we stayed there and slept again, for only a short period this time.
That clearing would become a favorite of ours. During hunts in the area, if we happened upon that small clearing, a spontaneous camp was proposed, and we would make love through the day and night and into the next. Sometimes one or both of my brothers would join us, though not only in that spot, and we would bond with each other. Pleasing each other and ourselves with our mouths, backsides, and hands. For this was the life of the sons of a male, and this was our time, not as royalty, but as lions and men.