The Tribal Initiation
The Tribal Initiation
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With apologies to Alex Haley.
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They came for him at night.
Faraji had been sleeping in the hut he shared with his younger brothers, on his usual mat, surrounded by the peace and quiet of the savannah he had come to expect from such nocturnal ventures. He dreamed peacefully, of exciting hunts and great feasts and of the rain that would bring coolness and renew the barren, sun burnt landscape once again when the waters finally flowed again.
Gentle, boyish dreams in the mind of a young man.
Two men crept inside the hut, lions with lean bodies, dressed in leather, carrying spears and ropes with them. They approached the hut that was part of the small household and entered with steps that seemed too quiet for the size of their calloused footpaws that barely left any prints onto the hard, dusty ground of the small tribal village.
One of the lions whispered something to the other, too quiet for anyone within earshot to pick up, and they struck at the young lion lying on his side, curled onto himself in a comfortable furry ball that dozed off pleasantly in his own dreams.
A woven bag was pulled over Faraji's head. His paws were yanked behind his back even before he was roused from his sleep.
"AH!" he yelped in surprise, and soon, terror, when ropes were tied around his wrists and pulled tight.
"LET ME GO!" Faraji yelled, in fear, anger and terror.
His brothers had woken up. The younger ones were already crying, the older ones trapped somewhere between anger and shock, and staring at the dark shapes attacking their brother.
The big lions barked a few words to one another and dragged their struggling catch out of the hut and onto the yard. Faraji yelled into the bag, struggling to breathe, tugging onto the ropes around his wrists, trying to kick at the ground with his footpaws, anything to resist his captors. What could've come for him? What danger, what enemy tribe, sent out to catch younglings from their homes to be used for whatever terrifying purpose? All the scary stories of his young life entered into his mind during the seconds spent panting, struggling, and growling while doing his best to put up a resistance. He could hear the yells of his brothers, crying, mewling, anger -
"Be calm, son," he heard his father's voice suddenly, and for a moment he thought he had imagined it, that his mind had summoned up the spirit of his infinitely wise father in the hopes of calming him down in this time of need.
But he felt a paw against his shoulder, and the voice came again, louder this time.
"You'll become a man now, Faraji, my son, do not be afraid. Make me proud, son."
The paw squeezed on his shoulder before the sensation disappeared, and the voice no longer was upon him, but instead he was dragged to his footpaws, and a harsher paw pushed on the small of his back.
"Forward!" the voice hissed into his ear.
He was urged to move, and his paws, still jittery from the attack, slowly began to carry the lion forward. Faraji's heart was beating rapidly, and in his stomach, nervous bursts made themselves known as he struggled to walk forward, in tow of the rope that was being held taut to make sure he would keep the pace of whoever was walking in front of him.
This was it, he thought, as he struggled to keep walking without being able to see ahead of him. The old tribal traditional had finally fell upon him, the elders having decided that he was old enough to be taken away from the village, a long walk away to the camp of the hunters of the tribe, where he would finally be taught the knowledge, skills and secrets of a warrior and a hunter. He would become a man, truly, in the sense that he'd be given responsibilities for hunting, tracking, and in the worst case of all, also defending their home with his spear and his claws. No more would he have to stay with his mother to either herd the flocks of goats and cows or to till the land with the wooden instruments of a farmer. No, he would carry a stone spear with pride and he would make his best to make everyone in his tribe feel that he would be worthy of the new duties and responsibilities upon him. He would be the first of his siblings to undergo these secretive rituals, and he could image how his young brothers would look at him, the man...oh, and he would hopefully soon receive his own hut, too, where he could live in peace, with his own items and possessions, where he could take his friends and hopefully keep a family one day...oh how lovely that would be!
His excitement carried his paws afar, through the night, but no matter of joy for finally reaching sufficient maturity was soon replaced by other feelings. There was doubt and trepidation, wondering whether he would be able to keep up with it all. There would be tests, he knew as much, tests of manhood, bravery, strength, cunning, integrity of character. Everything that separated a man from a mere boy. He could he do that all and prove himself? What if he'd fail his family...his tribe...his pride...he might end up an eternal boy, a man's body, with the status of a body, little better than a slave...
More acute worries soon emerged. The walk left him exhausted after what must've been several hours, and he felt thirsty as well, and had almost tripped a few times onto branches or rocks littering the ground. The ropes around his wrists felt uncomfortable, too. He was too afraid to ask his captors for drink or any relief, yet, though. Perhaps this was part of the test...to show he could take such a distressing situation without further complaints. Maybe he could be sent back home simply for doing that, whining like a little cub he no longer was, especially now that he'd been declared to be worthy of trying to prove himself.
It was still dark when they finally came to a stop with a grunted call from someone, and a tug from the rope that kept his paws suspended together. The bag was pulled away from his head and he was encouraged to take deep, cool breaths while trying to get used to seeing again. He could only really see shapes, and the dark horizon of the savannah, and the stars above them across the sky. It did generate enough light for him to observe the small convoy of lions on the move. He was not alone with his captors, that much was clear. There were a dozen others from the tribe, his age mates, a few somewhat younger, some older, even, each of them in a similar state he was, bagged, with their paws tired behind their backs. Dark or not, the familiar scents were unmistakable. Only a few steps away, one of his best friends, Dejen, stood and was glancing around worriedly. Faraji felt at least a little better for that familiar muzzle in the group. Someone else seemed to have the same idea, too, because a tentative call for a name could be heard from somewhere behind him.
"No speaking!" someone barked out.
Faraji swallowed any words he might've had to speak, for his friends, and stayed quiet. One of the older lions, presumably his captor, stepped closer, and held something close to his face.
"Drink."
Faraji realized that it was a waterskin, and drank deeply. Staring at the eyes of the lion in front of him, he couldn't mistake him. Makena...one of the proud young hunters of the tribe, was his warden. The lion's tall, lean body, muscled and richly maned, spoke of power and strength, and his movements were those of a disciplined warrior, not just those of a swaggering youth. He looked like he was enjoying his current role as a captor, too, grinning while Faraji felt water dribble down along his muzzle, with no way for him to wipe it off.
"Prepare to move along!"
Faraji's mild hopes of continuing the trip untied were lost when the bag was once again pulled over his head and tightened shut. It took him some time to get used to breathing through it again, even while they also carried on along their now unseen path.
The walk continued. They changed directions several times, and Faraji wondered if it was to confuse them off the path. These were familiar lands to them, they'd trampled around it all, it might not be so easy to make so many lions lose the track. None the less, Faraji felt confused, hungry and tired by the time they came to a stop again, and the bag was pulled away again.
Now there was light, and it made him squint, after so long in the darkness. The sun wasn't up to its full height yet, but it had come over the horizon and bathed the savannah in a golden hue.
In front of them was the camp. It was roughly circular, an elongated oval, really, surrounded by a fence composed of spiky shrubbery, a perfect defense against both wandering beasts and anyone intending to attack the place with reason. The youth were marched in through a gate guarded by speared hunters and ushered onto the central clearing. Round grass-roofed huts surrounded them, the dwellings of the unmated hunters of the village when they were not staying with the rest of the pride. Everything was neat and well-kept, a testament to the determination of the tribe.
They were lined side by side on the square, and their bounds were removed, leaving the youth to simply stare at the two lines of hunters standing on each side of the square, seemingly to keep guard of the new entrants. Faraji recognized more faces in the line of recruits, besides Dejen. Kibwe was standing a little distance away, and so were Sefu and Wekesa, whom was the older brother of one of Faraji's best friends from the village. He desperately wanted to speak to them, to acknowledge their presence and to tell them how excited he was to finally be there, at the hunter's camp, but obviously it was discouraged at the moment. Some of the others seemed even more scared than he felt, too. He could see many flicking ears and uneasy tails in the line of lions, all dressed in leather loincloths for most part. The hunters worse similar garments, though of finer quality, ornate, and complemented by leather harnesses across their chests. They all had spears on their paws, too, held in stern attention.
All the youth tensed when the door flap of one of the huts opened and a large, grizzled lion emerged. They knew who he was, of course, he was seen at the village often enough, but to see him up close like this...knowing he was to address them...for it was none other than Tendaji, the chief of the pack of hunters for the tribe. The tall, muscled lion wore a much more elaborate getup, his leather cloth and harness were much more decorated and came in several layers. He wore an antelope skin as a cloak draped about his stern shoulders.
He was the epitome of wisdom, strength, courage and cunning, and it was no wonder that many of the youth gasped at the sight of their idol, whom now stood in front of them.
The hunters stomped the ground with the ends of their spears, lifted them up high and yelled out a war cry that made Faraji jitter, even among the men who were the braves of his own tribe.
"Welcome!" Tendaji spoke. His voice was as deep as the darkness of his mane.
They were quiet. They didn't know how to address the chief, not under these conditions. Usually they would drop their gazes and defer to him like the women did, for that was their role. The warriors greeted him in their way, but the young lions standing in front of him were somewhere in-between these two roles, and were left in confusion.
"Today, you come here as boys!" the lion growled. "But if you work hard, and listen carefully, you will be hunters, warriors, the men of this pride!"
The lined hunters called out their barking rally once again, as if to put extra strength to their chief's words. Tendaji smiled viciously. His teeth looked as vicious as the tips of the spears his men wielded.
"You will be tested!" the lion declared. "You will be tried! You will do as I say, and you will emerge as men...or boys...and it is up to your choice, and your skills and strength, to prove yourself worthy!"
Faraji felt himself tense up even more as he heard the chief's words. All the stories really seemed to be true...they were not going to be let go easily, that seemed for sure.
"Zuberi!" the chief called out.
One of the hunters in the line stepped out, clearly older than the rest, and larger for that matter, too. He too, was a familiar face. Everyone in the village knew that he was one of the leading hunters, a master tracker, a danger to the ladies...everything a boy would aim to be in his later years. Now he walked confidently over to the chief and saluted him with his spear.
"Take charge of the new arrivals," the chief ordered solemnly.
"It will be done!" said Zuberi in reply.
They exchanged nods, and the chief retreated into his hut. He seemed to have greater concerns than what was going to follow next.
Zuberi stomped the ground and smiled.
"It's time we showed you boys your first lesson," the lion leered. "Hunters!"
"WRHAH!" the line of hunters replied.
"Prepare to spar!" Zuberi commanded.
*
What must've been hours later, Faraji was crouching by a little fire, nursing several bruises and bumps and eating a meager meal of cooked meat, hunched by the fire with his compatriots while the hunters sat laughing and drinking beer and eating much more substantial pickings of meat in their own majestic peace. The young lions all looked beaten up. Some even had blackened eyes and sore tails.
"I wouldn't have thought they'd make us fight them the first day!" Kibwe whispered to Faraji.
"I'm sure Makena hit me with his stick on purpose!" Wekesa complained.
Faraji felt the same. He'd been issued a stick and told to fight with Isngoma, who was infamous for his skills in brawling, besides being an adept hunter. The larger, older lion had perhaps gone easy on him at first, but once the session progress, it seemed that he forgot he was dealing with someone whose previous combat experience amounted only to children's games and boyish play. Now Faraji was sore and aching after being knocked about, either with sticks or paws, and there was sand in his fur from the ground that he'd made close contact with several times. At least it seemed nobody was seriously hurt, which was a relief. They weren't going to try to break them, Faraji thought.
"At least we're doing things and being treated like we can do something," Faraji opined. "We'll be shown how to be hunters! How to be men!"
"I wouldn't mind some of that beer..." Kibwe looked longingly towards the fire where the hunters were laughing among themselves. It was much more quiet around the fires where the youths had prepared their meat and now sat in small hunched groups.
"We'll get there in time," Dejen sounded confident. "Next year this time, we'll be the ones sitting there and the boys are looking at us in awe."
Faraji wasn't sure if he could've been that boisterous, considering how sore his muscles were from the constant drilling that had followed immediately after their long march to the hunting camp. Not having slept so much was having its effect, too.
"BOYS!" the booming voice of Zuberi suddenly cut through the air. "ATTENTION!"
The young lions rushed to push final bites of meat into their muzzles before lining up on the place where they now knew they would have to present themselves whenever that particular call was made by any of the senior hunters in the camp.
"Good, you're already faster," the lion said as he stomped along the line of boys, some with meat juices and fat on their muzzles still from their suddenly finished meals. "Not fast enough, but faster. Good. Next, you have some chores to perform. Your tasks will be assigned by Kato, who is responsible for the camp."
Kato was an older lion, almost as grizzled as the chief himself, with something of a gut, too, that pressed against his leather harness.
An excited whisper went through young lions. Perhaps they'd be given spears...a lesson with the weapons would be very interesting, even if they were already worn out from the long day.
It wasn't exciting. They were issued brushes, buckets and little rock knives that would barely cut grass, let alone do any real harm to any foe, beast or a fur. They were sent to fetch water from a nearby stream, to fend fences and roofs and to help skinning animals for the evening meal. Basically, they were doing everything that had to be done in the absence of women in the camp. Maybe they were only considered good enough for that.
By the time night fell, Faraji wasn't sure he had ever felt so tired. His footpaws hurt, his arms and legs hurt, his chest and back and rump hurt from being smacked with a stick during another round of sparring. He'd gotten a hit on the jaw too, and eating felt funny, and made him wince occasionally. At least there was a bit more food to be had this time around, though nothing like the big hunks of meat the hunters were enjoying around their own fires, burning bright and cheerful. Much to their surprise, the youth were even allowed to finish their meals before the call for lining up was made again.
Even Tendaji emerged now, from his hut, flanked by Zuberi and Kato.
"It is time for you, boys, to be paired up to the hunters who will personally teach you their skills," the chief spoke in a clear voice that carried across the smoky, cooling air. "You will look up to then like brothers, fathers, and comrades in arms. You will look after them like they look after you, and you will find the sharing to be mutual. Their strength to your strength, and in return. I trust my men to take care of you in a just manner, and for you to respect your elders in turn."
Faraji felt confused, momentarily, but soon, the hunters lined up to the side approached, and it became clear. Each of them moved to one of the new recruits, took them by the arm and moved to one of the huts around the camp. It seemed that everyone would be going with one of them. The young lion tensed. How would they be picked? He wasn't sure what was going to happen now...was there a competition for them...had everything today been a test, measuring them up, so that the hunters knew which one of the young lions they'd like to train?
"Come on," a deep voice spoke, shaking Faraji up from his nervous wonderings.
He couldn't believe the sight of the fur who was standing in front of him, one strong paw about Faraji's arm. It was none other than Zuberi, the hunter leader.
"You're with me," the hunter said. "Step to my hut."
The bustle of the courtyard changed into the hunter's hut. It was warmly lit by an oil lamp that cast a comforting glow. There were few appointments for comfort - furs and rugs on the floor, hooks on the ceiling and walls for hanging arms and clothing from, a chair to sit on, with a little table by it on which the oil lamp stood. Wooden carvings depicting savannah spirits and beasts, for good luck in hunts, decorated the small hut, only four strides across. Perhaps they didn't need any further space for themselves. It was all perfectly neat, like the rest of the camp. It smelled distinctively like the hunter, Faraji though, leather and musk, and salt.
"You will be staying here from now on," Zuberi told him. "You will rest here, and when you are not training with the others, you will be either training with me or tending to me. Do you understand?"
Faraji nodded, tensely.
"Y-yes, master," he said.
"You may call me Zuberi," the lion replied, "or Zu, if you prefer."
"R-really?"
"When we are together like this," the lion said. "Though otherwise, such familiarity is not appropriate. But here, we ought not to consider ourselves to be that far apart. You are here to learn, after all, and you are eager to learn, aren't you?"
"Y-yes...Zuberi," Faraji replied. "I do."
"Excellent," the lion stated, as he settled onto the chair. Now, sit, wherever you are comfortable. I shall tell you about my first hunt."
"Really?" Faraji asked, ears perking with curiosity.
"You can learn as much from stories as from doing it yourself," the lion replied, sitting upon his chair and lit by the lamp next to him.
Faraji hurried to settle his sore rump over a mound of furs on the floor.
"...."
"No falling asleep during stories!"
Faraji realized that he was being shaken by the lion. He did look somewhat annoyed, but not aggressively so. Faraji blushed. He was lying on his side on the furs and the lion was kneeling next to him, with his paw on his shoulder. He began to scurry up, but the heavy paw kept him down.
"No need to get up, that's where you sleep, anyway," the hunter said, "it's very late, either way, and we will wake up early. It will be a long day tomorrow."
"Oh...alright..." Faraji whispered. "I hope I didn't do anything wrong."
"You should try to stay awake especially when Tendaji speaks," the lion replied. "It is disrespectful. These are no bedtime tales."
"Y-yes..Zuberi.." Faraji averted his gaze.
The lion patted his shoulder.
"Sleep now. You deserve it."
"T-thank you."
The lion left from his side, stood up, and stretched for a moment before he removed his leather harness and his loin cloth. Faraji blushed a little at the sight of the lean, muscled hunter. Nobody was much concerned with nudity in the company of your own sex, so it didn't surprise him that the lion would simply strip off his loincloth. He just hadn't expected it like that.
The lamp was snuffed out, and Faraji closed his eyes, sure that sleep would come soon. He barely managed to take a single deep sleepy breath when he felt the furs shuffle and the heavy body of the hunter fall next to him. His own tail jumped with surprise.
"Z-Zu...?"
"Yes?" the deep voice replied from close by, enough to make the furs on Faraji's neck spike up.
"Are you...are you sleeping here too?"
"There's nowhere else to sleep," the lion replied. "Sleep. You need it."
The older lion let out a deep rumble and didn't speak anything further. Faraji tried his best to relax and settle for sleep, but the hunter's presence made him feel strange. He wasn't used to it, he hadn't slept in the same hut with his father in many years, only the mewling rumbles of his young brothers were the noise he was familiar with during the night, not the deep snoring of the hunter.
*
"GETUP!"
He was shaken up by heavy paws, rolled about on the furs until he managed to open his eyes. The door of the hut was open and some sunlight was already coming in, which illuminated the sight of the naked lion next to him.
"Uh...Zu?"
"Wake up, get up, and report to Kato to help with the morning chores", the hunter told him. "that is your responsibility."
Faraji barely managed to get his eyes open before he was thrust out to the courtyard. His young companions were slowly filing in too, towards the food preparation area where Kato was already supervising. Their chores were to continue...preparing warm water, which the hunters hogged up, once they emerged, washing themselves for the day while trading lurid jokes and remarks about their charges. Faraji blushed when Kirabo, the hunter, asked Zuberi whether Faraji had been "a good bedwarmer". The hunter swatted the lion with his tail and chuckled.
"We'll see, don't we? The boy needs his sleep, after all!"
The youth didn't get to wash with warm water. They all got pots of cold water, and that was done after they had fried meat and prepared tubers for the hunters' morning meal. Their own food was served in a hurried moment before Makena announced that they would be running today.
"And you'll have to try to catch me!" the proud hunter declared.
*
Faraji wasn't sure whether it was possible to be so tired, or to have such sore footpaws. They had been running, bare paws, of course, through the savannah, for hours, it seemed, only stopping to sip water from their skins. They weren't simply allowed to mindlessly run around. They did circles, going back to where they'd walked across before to examine the pawprints they had left in different kinds of soil. Sometimes they were stopped to sniff on the ground to track any signs of prey, and themselves, of course. A group of sweaty lions was sure to leave quite the trail of scent along their meandering way, especially once a few footpads cracked and blood mixed with the sand.
They wolfed down the food they had to prepare themselves, washed down with water. Their moment's respite was ended when the training sticks were once again distributed.
"We'll beat each other senseless if we keep going like this!" Dejen complained to Faraji, clutching his ear after being accidentally hit over his head by Sefu.
"MORE MOVEMENT AND LESS WAGGING TONGUES LIKE GOSSIPING WIVES!" they were immediately chastised by Kirabo.
The night fell eventually, and Kirabo dragged himself to the hut he was now sharing with Zuberi. The bedding looked more inviting than ever, and Faraji wasted no time in curling down to rest. The hunters were still out in the courtyard, sharing their nighttime activities and final cups of beer before retiring, last curls of smoke rising from their fires towards the starry sky.
"..."
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Faraji jumped up. The hunter's voice sounded annoyed. Zuberi's greater shape loomed above him.
"Uh...s-sleeping, Zuberi..." he mumbled.
"Well, not yet," he was poked with a stick over his ribs, "I'll teach you how to mend a spear. The tip came loose on one of mine and it has to be repaired. Come on, wipe your eyes and join me by the lamp. I'll show you how to do it, and the next one you'll try to repair yourself."
"Uh..."
"Come on, this is what you will have to do. You'll soon be making spears for yourselves to use in practice!" the lion replied. "And you have to start learning right away."
"Alright, Zu...thank you."
"That's the spirit!"
When the spear was finally fixed and leaning against the wall, Faraji felt tired still, but much better about himself. The quiet work had been relaxing and not too harsh in comparison to the running and sparring during the day. It was fascinating to watch the hunter's large paws do work that was relatively delicate, even if he was mending a weapon. He seemed happy with Faraji's numerous questions as well, for which Faraji was glad. At least he hadn't made himself appear silly by making the questions to the hunter.
"I think you deserve the bed now," Zuberi noted.
"Thank you."
"And remember, you only go to sleep when I tell you from now on, right?"
"Y-yes, of course, Zu."
"Good!" the hunter ruffled his mane.
Faraji settled onto the beddings and relaxed while the hunter gathered away a few pieces of leftover leather from the repairs, removed his harness and loincloth and joined his younger charge on the bedding. The darkness of the hut only contained the sound of their breathing in the small space, sharing the same bed, even, shoulder to shoulder.
"Hmmphphh..." the older lion rumbled, apparently in his sleep.
Faraji closed his eyes and tried to let all the soreness and tiredness to melt away, to let sleep take him. At least the bed was comfortable.
The big lion shuffled next to him. A pair of knees pressed against Faraji's hip. He opened his eyes and saw the hunter kneeling next to him, a silhouette in the darkness his sensitive eyes could just about make out.
"What is it, Zu?" Faraji asked. He wondered if the hunter had forgotten to issue him with some instructions or a chore for the morning.
The lion was breathing deeply.
"It's time to teach you one more lesson, Faraji," the lion said.
"Uh...now?" Faraji questioned. "Weren't we supposed to sleep?"
"Yes," the hunter replied. "But this happens now...since I'm ready."
"W-what is it?" Faraji questioned.
"Part of being a hunter is to have hunter's strength and hunter's spirit...and I will give it to you...some of mine..." the lion replied in the darkness.
"U-what?" Faraji whispered. "How?"
"I'll show you...I'll show you...yeah..."
The hunter grasped Faraji's wrist and pulled on his arm, to move his paw somewhere...landing it upon something warm...fleshy...hard...familiar. Faraji tried to jerk his paw away, but the grip was too much. His belly churned, he tensed, and his tail flapped the floor. The cock under his paw pulsed.
"W-what - "
"There's no women here, and we're not allowed women before we are married...hunters must get what they need from somewhere else..." Zuberi replied in a deep growl. "And it's...it's part of your duties...it'll give you strength."
"Strength?" Faraji gasped, too afraid to move.
"Why do you think the shamans spray their idols and altars with the seed of a bull during the rituals for good harvest and many cubs?" the lion chuckled roughly. "It's the same thing...but the seed's coming from somewhere else..."
Faraji's fingers trembled against the hard, barbed meat. Was he truly supposed to...
"I know the kind of boyish games everyone your age plays...this will be the same...don't worry, you won't be hurt," the hunter spoke more softly, "you don't play those games for pain, do you?"
Faraji knew what he was talking about, of course. He too had partaken in the little...games that many of his agemates engaged in, when splashing of water in the river became boring during hot days. Some fondling of this kind was known to happen...a little helping paw...the knowledge of their wicked actions adding to the thrill, somehow. He'd never have expected the hunters to do the same...did they...did they play with one another? He couldn't even imagine that...all the warriors naked, by the river, with hard pricks and grasping -
He felt himself grow hard and blood rush not only to his nethers but to his face, too. His muzzle burned with his thoughts...and the firm stick pulsed against his palm still.
"I'll show you a way," Zuberi grunted.
He pushed the lion down onto the bed and straddled him. Faraji yelped with the sudden weight, but it was really the poking of a hard hunter cock against his belly that truly surprised him.
"Uh..."
His loincloth was pulled away and thrown away, there was a noise of spitting and wet fingers closed around him...and suddenly the lion's big cock was pressed against his own, in the hunter's grip. His back arched and he thrust into the hold, his head pushed back...he moaned.
"Oooooh..."
"There you go...sharing strength..."
The big lion leaned over him and began to thrust into the makeshift hold of his big paw, his cock stroking against Farajis' with each hump from his muscled body. The young man was pinned down under the elder lion and could do nothing but moan and grit his teeth together while the big lion on top of him rode upon him.
"Y-yes...yes...there you go..."
Zuberi folded his arm and leaned close...his body pressed flush onto Faraji's. The young lion felt his breaths...heartbeat...the flexing of muscle...and deep musk, whisking onto his nose from the armpit close by. His sniffling noises must've been heard, too, for the big lion chuckled deeply.
"Yes...one day that'll be you...now...just feel it..."
His head felt like it was swimming. He'd never felt anything like this...this wasn't like wrestling with his friends, he was no stranger to feeling other male bodies close by but this was something else. It wasn't like the games, either...this felt much better, for starters.
"Good...boy..."
Zuberi's breathing came faster, and so did his thrusts. The lion covered his younger trainee completely, their furs mixing, muscles flexing together while their bodies rocked along. Faraji felt bewildered - he'd never been touched like this, and he wasn't sure what to think about it, but there was not much room for thinking, either. He was sent into a strange world of musk and rolling hips, and strange sensations with a heavy, dripping cock rubbing onto his own. He'd never felt one against his own, he'd only ever touched one with his paws...now it was grinding onto him and spreading ever further musk onto him. The hunter dominated him like a beast to tame...with an untamed cock and big balls bouncing against Faraji's groin...
"Uhh..."
The boy moaned. His cock began to twitch, and he felt a heat grow in his belly, somewhere at the base of his tail and then onwards...rising until he gasped, arched his back, and began to spill his seed all over them, between their bodies. It spurted against the lion's bigger cock as well, smearing his paw with the musty seed while he continued thrusting into the now extra slippery grip of his paw. He growled, dirtily, and licked Faraji's muzzle.
"There you go...feel the strength ff-flow..."
The lion hissed, growled and rumbled, everything together as he pounded down...and then his own cum escaped, in thick streamers that Faraji's belly and chest all the way to his chin. It left him trembling down under the lion who remained on top of him...cock against belly, and breathing heavily. The warm breaths washed over the young lion's face as he looked up confusedly at the burning-eyed male.
"There you go," Zuberi said, "see...it's not difficult to share...strength..."
The lion smirked, and licked Faraji's nosepad. The young lion snorted with the surprising feeling.
"You do understand that you will not discuss this outside the camp?" the lion spoke.
"O-okay..."
"This is just for men to know about," the lion replied. "For hunters...is that clear?"
"Y-yeah..." Faraji whispered.
"Good. That's how it has always been, and shall be," the big lion said. He rolled heavily off from on top of Faraji and moved onto his side of the bed. The young lion remained lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, waiting for his heart to calm down. His cock was still hard, and felt sticky.
"Are we...are we going to wash?" he asked.
"No point," the lion said, "you might get musky in the morning again as far as I know..."
The hunter chucked, and Faraji felt a twinge in his belly...nerves...excitement, too? Maybe that wouldn't be such a terrible chore to do, compared to the rest. It had felt good...
"Okay, Zu."
"Sleep now, Faraji," the lion commanded. "You will need all the rest you can take."
*
Thank you for reading! Hope you had a fun time, and I look forward to your comments!