At Their Mercy

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

The man grunted, huffing and puffing, though the impact of landing on the floor rang through him, as if his senses were being dulled down. The room was bare and plain, with a boarded-up window, but he was sure he�d been taken into what was otherwise a very normal house. Yet nothing was �normal� when it came to anthros � and lions didn�t play nicely at all.

�Agh� Please��

�Simba��

Ignoring him, the lion who had tossed him on the floor, left to recover himself, stepped over him with a languid stride, like the human was no more than an obstacle. He rippled with muscle and, dimly, the man was aware he�d met him in a bar � one of those frequented by anthros.

His heart leapt, though he should not have been as thrilled as he was, for the darkness seeping through him, the heaviness of his fate, told him all he needed to know.

Simba, the lion�s son, stepped out of another room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Even then, the boxers draped over his sheath as if to show off his body, though he was, perhaps, not quite as muscled as the other lion.

�Mufasa.�

The man whispered the name, though remembering the lion with the rich, red-brown mane�s name wasn�t going to get him anywhere.

Simba blinked down at the offering as a smirk pulled at his lips, his tail lashing back and forth behind him.

�Ah� I see you�ve been hunting.�

�Mm, that is so,� Mufasa said, though the lion didn�t bother to hide his grin, casting a dispassionate glance back at their prey for the evening. �Your birthday surprise� I know you prefer something a little more carnal these days.�

Simba growled, licking his lips, boxers tenting out a little. Even though Mufasa was dressed in casual jeans and a shirt partially unbuttoned to show off the thicker fur on his chest, the lion�s excitement was evident. They moved together as one, not needing words, stalking their �wounded� human prey as if the man was no more to a wildebeest. And with how anthros treated humans in the world, what they were permitted to do, the man may as well have been.

Mufasa may have taken the man�s name from him at some point, but he didn�t remember it. It simply wasn�t necessary. But it was all pleasure as he inhaled deeply, smelling flesh and blood, the singing life-force that was soon to be snuffed out. His body ached to be used, to flex his muscles, but he held back as Simba stripped down, joining the other lion in removing his clothes until they were both bare but for their fur.

�Take all you want from this one�� Mufasa rumbled, watching as the man tried to crawl away across the floor, yet he had that sense of being trapped too, like his mind was already giving in to his fate. �Though it does look tasty��

Simba growled and rolled his shoulders back, linking his fingers to crack them out.

�Mm� I can share.�

He pounced without question, never even thinking once about asking the human�s permission. It was neither given nor granted as the lion bowled over the human, claws pricking from the tips of his fingers. It was nothing at all for Simba to rake his claws down the man�s back, ignorant of how he caught skin. What did he care, after all, of how he caught and raked, drawing the first bright drops of blood to the air?

�Ahhhh!�

The lion ignored the man�s cry, shoving him over on to his stomach, not caring to undress his prey more than he needed to get to what he wanted. His cock throbbed, achingly hard and twitching as the muscle right at the base of his abdomen, just above his shaft, pulled and tensed. Licking his lips in a raspy pull of his tongue, he savoured in his own casual power, taking his cock in his paw and giving it a couple of smooth, languid pumps.

Mufasa stayed back, allowing Simba to best enjoy himself, for lions had to let out their feral sides at least often enough to satisfy instinct. And there was nothing like seeing another take what they deserved, dragging the human crudely up on to all fours. Yet the man was nothing like a lioness to be pounded as Simba shoved his near-dry cock against the man�s ass, the thick rod of flesh sliding over his buttocks and glancing off.

Realising too late what was going to happen to him, the man fought and tried to squirm away, though Simba merely chuffed and dragged him back to him, claws dug in to the point in front of his hip. He drew blood and the human let out a garbled moan, but Simba paid it no mind. Why should he, after all, when he was the king of it all?

And he was there to take what he deserved, not caring too much for his birthday � but any excuse to take and dominate was more than worth it to him. He lined up against with the man�s tight pucker and bore in, wedging the slimmer head of his cock into him while the man�s scream cut through the air.

Simba laughed. His hearing may have been sensitive but the screams of prey didn�t bother him as he callously fucked the man, both paws on his waist and hip to claw him brutally back on to his cock. He didn�t let the man shift away from him even a bit and the rivulets of blood that ran down the man�s thighs were of no consequence to him, even as the scent of human, so rich, filled the air.

He thrust harder, snarling as he pinned the man�s chest to the floor, not caring for the hardness of the solid ground bearing up against him. It was a solid floor, easy to clean, but that was only because they were more interested in having a suitable place to take their prey, after all. As he thrust, he slammed in, revelling in how the human�s body clung to his cock, tightening around him.

The man�s chest heaved, though the dull ringing in his ears still seemed to resound through his entire body, the scream of pain cut off in his throat. His body wanted to fight, wanted to live � and yet there was a part of him enthralled by the power of the predators too, the rippling bulk of their muscles. That was why he�d been drawn to Mufasa in the first place and gone willingly with the lion in his car, but that would only be to his detriment.

The lion�s dick slammed into him, an aching burn spilling through him. He barely was even aware of what was happening, a slick sheen of sweat covering his body, heat racing to his skin. His breaths pulled shallowly at his lungs and he tried to howl, though all that came out was a raspy gasp, his throat too tight to allow much more through.

The lion didn�t notice, not even as the man�s cheek slid roughly back and forth across the floor. It may have only been a couple of centimetres, but it was more than enough to put him in his place, huffing and grunting, the lion taking his fill. He growled as he thrust, using the full length of his fat member to claim his prey, though he had far more in mind for him too.

Mufasa was far from idle too, the lions idly toying with their prey as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A rumbling, pleased growl rolled up from his throat and he licked his lips, coming in close and to Simba�s level to reach around his �toy.� The man shuddered at the touch of another and Mufasa chuckled throatily, even if he revelled in the open fear of his prey.

Well, Simba�s prey, but if his son was willing to share�who was he to complain?

His paw roamed casually over the man�s flesh, letting his claws cut, drops of blood glistening in his wake. The man�s chest heaved and the lion ignored it. Through the clamour of Simba enjoying his toy, hips slapping into the man�s rump with every stroke of his cock, he noted the man�s half-hard cock, as if there was some manner of frenzied arousal coursing through the weak thing even then.

He laughed and the man glanced at him, sweaty hair plastered to his scalp and lips parted in a soundless scream. Grasping the man�s shaft, he pumped it languidly, like it was at all an object of his interest. Oh, but it was all in the easy tenor of the domination for him, how his muscles contracted, his strength trembling just out of reach. He could let loose � but he�d let Simba start on that. He deserved it, after all.

The man grunted, haphazardly rocking his hips, though he was not present in the moment enough to realise his need. All he knew was that he wanted to submit, to quail before the beasts, panting heavily but there was no manner of breath that would satisfy the burn in his body.

The power of the lion called to him on a primal level, even though he had not asked for any of it. And he knew he belonged there, that he was so much less than the lions, his backside trying to clench around a shaft that sent hot rushes of blood pumping around his body.

Simba grunted as Mufasa casually pawed off the human, adjusting the grip of his paw to get the man to firm up in his grasp. Ah, he couldn�t be too rough if he wanted to play with the toy like that, he saw, but it took everything in him to hold back. He trembled, licking his lips, a cat prowling, stalking, tail flicking back and forth wantonly.

Still, Simba hunched over his prey, slamming into him, shorter, sharper strokes colliding with the man�s backside. His cock drove deep, stretching him out when he was not ready for it, a ragged howl straining furiously to break the human�s lips. He didn�t mind that, no, but he watched Mufasa close, nostrils twitching as he took in the scent of the older lion.

The human jerked and howled again, though the sound was cut off as if he simply didn�t have the breath to make such a cry. Mufasa smirked down at his paw as the man spent his load over his paw: dirty and messy. Such seed was wasted, yet breaking his prey down like that would never fail to be oh so satisfying.

As the man spent himself, Mufasa�s paw slipped a little lower, closing his fingers around the man�s nuts too, as if they were merely another part of him. The man couldn�t have anticipated what the lion was to do next � but that was why the big cat was a predator that humans could never truly be.

Mufasa�s paw closed tightly around his cock and balls, the last dribbles of seed leaking from his cock. The man heaved, but Mufasa pulled quickly, letting his claws bite into his flesh. With a swift yank, he tore the man�s cock and balls from his body, blood flooding the air.

The man�s scream could not fail to slice brutally through the air in that moment, but it was nothing in comparison to the lion�s easy brutality. As pain lanced through his body, the man was not even aware of what was happening to him, searing, biting pain jerking into his gut. His stomach heaved and rolled and, for a moment, he thought he was going to lose his stomach. Yet, even then, he didn�t know what had happened until the lion dangled his own cock and balls before his blurring eyes, tears filling his vision. Even then, his body strained to carry him through the pain, though his mind would shut down soon enough, adrenaline pumping to take the crudest, most vicious edge off it for him.

It wouldn�t be enough.

�Oh, I don�t think it needed this.�

Mufasa tossed the man�s cock and balls aside, though they could later be a delicacy � if they chose to devour them, that was. They may or may not be taken, but the lion did not care in the slightest when they were feeding their basest of instincts.

It was about raw power and being able to indulge in what made a lion a lion. Mufasa growled, lips rippling faintly along the line of his gleaming, white teeth, coated in a sheen of saliva. His tail flicked in amusement at the man half-collapsing to the ground, though Simba still pounded ruthlessly away at his ass, hips slapping the man�s weak, bare flesh. Blood trickled down his hip from where the younger lion�s claws had bitten through his skin � but it took so little pressure that it was almost laughable for the feline to consider it a part of the rending and tearing.

Simba licked his lips, leaning over the man�s back as he pounded into him, sucking in a rough, sharp inhale. It was intoxicating in all the right ways and he thrust harder, ignoring the man squalling and gasping and whimpering under him. He might have been trying to scream, but it didn�t seem like their prey had the breath in their lungs to do so, which was just fine as far as the lion was concerned. What did he care if the man cried out? Though screaming and shrieking and wailing could be irritating to his more sensitive ears.

The man heaved, pain lancing through his mind with a lethal spike. He tried to shut down, to let his mind take him away from the current moment � but what was he more than a toy for the lions to do with as they willed? They were anthros, predators rippling with raw power and muscle, pink tongues flicking out lusciously over their lips and dragging back into their mouths as if his eyes were meant to follow the motion.

�Ah�� He sucked in a breath, a louder cry rolling from his lips, though it grumbled from his throat like a moan of the damned. �Nnngghhh� Noooo� No, let me� Let me�go��

His head swam and he didn�t realise he was being as loud as he clearly was, for Mufasa reared up above him, the lion�s frown noticeable even on a muzzle rather than a human face.

�Noisy� You won�t get louder than that.�

Mufasa growled and shoved the man�s head to the ground, ignoring his cries. Although the weight of his heavy paw folding over the man�s face quieted him some, the lion could not be satisfied. Bloodlust roared through him and his lips parted into a bared, salacious grin of hunger as he grabbed the man�s left arm.

He could have done anything with it. Twisted it up behind him, wrenched it out in front of him, pinned him to the ground with it. But he didn�t do any of that. He pulled and twisted, using his bodyweight and muscle to his best advantage to tear his arm clean off his body. Bones snapped and cracked, the sharp sound a base layer to the man�s garbled howls and moans, his chest still trying to heave like a little more air in his lungs was going to do him any good in the slightest.

His fate, of course, was already sealed and it was hopeless to try anything else. Awash in pain that blistered with searing heat throughout his entire body, he clawed at the floor with his one free hand. It did no good, not as his face was crushed to the hard floor, claws biting into his cheek and drawing blood once again. Huffing and panting, he tried to close his eyes, though the slit of vision that remained blurred swiftly with tears.

His body could not save him from his fate or even the strain of it, still feeling somehow like his arm was there despite his mind registering, with a dull, faraway gleam of horror, that it had disappeared. It was no longer a part of him and yet the pounding of the lion still pulled on some deeply rooted ache of arousal within him. He wanted to be used and wanted to be taken� But it was the manner of his abuse and breaking that let him know, with a sickening twist in his stomach, that he was nothing more than prey to him.

Simba thrust harder and harder, taking his pleasure while the human cried out under him. The human�s ass clenched tightly around him as pain gripped him, but that was not something the lion could have honestly said he was familiar with. In his prey, that pain and fear fascinated him, even though his cock throbbed more obviously again.

Yet he was not patient at all as he used his bodyweight to put brutal pressure into his thrusts, every slam of his hips crunching deeper into the man�s body. His pelvis ached and cracked, splintering, the man howling with a gaping, lewdly open mouth. The lion barely even noticed it as he curled over him, putting every ounce of strength in his body into using the man in every way possible.

Blood dripped to the floor from the man�s torn-off arm, pooling under their prey�s body. Even the force of his thrusting shoved the man�s body back and forth slightly through the bloody pool, smearing it further, but the man would easily bleed out from such a wound, even if nothing else was to come to pass.

They never tried to let their prey survive and treating them carefully, well� It simply wasn�t something that occurred to the lions. They were usable and expendable, simply not meant to survive.

One could even say it was the circle of life � but it was more the way of them hunting and letting their instincts shine through. Lions in anthro and human society did not always get such a chance to enjoy themselves in that manner � and it was their right to. That was why the laws over predatory anthros taking humans and weaker prey were so lenient. Who was going to stop them, after all?

His balls ached to unload as he thrust and, frankly, the lion had held back for more than long enough. For it was not all about spending his seed, after all, when there was easy domination to be taken in hand too. Still, he was not about to pause when the urge curled and pushed up in the pit of his stomach, driving in roughly, crudely, using the man as if he was nothing more than a hole to be filled.

�Unff��

He grunted and thrust deeper, not leaving a sliver of his cock to go to waste. Yet the rise of climax heaved inside him, spreading through his body hot and ready, as cum shot from his cock. He didn�t pause his thrusting even through orgasm, snarling and dragging in rasping breaths. He licked his lips and moaned, letting his cum flow from him, though Mufasa was in on the action too.

Mufasa growled and slapped the human�s head and shoulder with their own arm. The thing wouldn�t quiet! All that whining and whimpering, bubbling away with tears and a gurgle from their throat too�

�Stop hitting yourself!�

He laughed, making it into a game while his son unloaded every last drop of cum he had in his nuts, though Simba would more than likely head out again later to find another partner to take to his bed: one better befitting a lion than a weak human. As the man yelped and gargled, he jolted weakly from the slap of his own arm, a hand flopping back and forth to strike his face.

The lion laughed cruelly, tail giving a swing back and forth.

�Stop hitting yourself! Why are you hitting yourself?�

Toying with his prey was all he needed, feeding another kind of instinct, though others had, once, told him it was cruel to play with food like that. Well, at least while they were alive. Yet it sent a surge of lightness through his chest to act like a younger lion all over again, striking the man with his arm over and over again. It almost didn�t matter how he hit the human, waggling his own arm at him as if trying to entice the man to make a grab for it. Sadly, for the human, he didn�t have the energy for something like that.

The man groaned as cum flooded him, though it was the burning pain of being taken so roughly that coursed through him in a way he couldn�t contain. No breath came easily, not even as Simba pulled out at last, leaving his strained ass gaping, but that really was the least of it for him.

�Agh!�

He let out a soft, breathy grunt as his hand slapped him in the face all over again. It was wrong, not real� So very not real�

Pain rolled through him in aching, pounding waves that only seemed to get worse with every passing second. The big lion was saying something, for he could dimly see their lips moving, but he couldn�t catch the words.

Simba grabbed his free arm and he tried to roll away from him, though it was all to no avail. Bones crunched and cracked, splintering as the lion pinned his chest down to the ground, all while twisting and ripping his last remaining arm from him.

He tried to scream, but he could never be sure if the sound left his lips. Just when he thought the pain couldn�t get any worse, sickening in how it jolted through him, his arm separated from his body in a spray of blood, his head lighter than before, dizziness overcoming him.

As he lost an ever-increasing volume of blood, he grunted and faded, his head lolling back on the floor, wriggling in place. He thought he was moving, yet he could never be sure, not as Simba dangled his arm over his body, though the lion did not hit him with it like Mufasa did.

He watched the lion, as if from another world, wave and waggle his arm at Mufasa. The feline�s eyes widened and a grin spread across his lips, growling as he lunged for the arm.

�Come on, you can get it,� Simba laughed, though it was clear the casual, bloody play was all in good faith between the lions. �Quicker� You�re the one who taught me how to hunt!�

Ah, the lions had so much history together and it was not for them to take things so heavily. Even in their bloodlust, they could be playful, instinct winding through and finally breathing its way to the surface with every beat of their hearts.

Mufasa rumbled softly and leaned forward, snatching the arm off Simba, though he had no intention of keeping it. He tossed it over the human�s weakening body as Simba caught it deftly, the lions toying with parts of their prey as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Down on the floor, the man blinked up at the display, blood pooling increasingly thickly around him, spreading out from his body. His life force faded, but it was in the service of greater creatures than he, even if he may not have chosen to go in that way. The loss of his genitalia didn�t even seem as poignant as it had in the moment, despite the raw wound and blood pumping from him.

It was all about the lions as Mufasa and Simba looked to one another. Simba tossed the arm away, after teasing Mufasa with it one more time, extending it towards his father and then pulling it back before his father could do anything. Mufasa smiled warmly, though there was a hunger in his eyes that only one thing could sate.

�Together?� He said.

�Together.�

Together, the lions grabbed the man�s head in their paws, holding him between them. He groaned, but he wasn�t really in his right mind as Simba licked his lips, the lions applying increasing pressure, slowly and surely. The man didn�t have a gasp left in him, submitting to the predators, as his skull crunched and his skin split, skull crumpling and brain matter exposed.

Crushing his skull as if it was nothing, the lions felt like they had barely flexed their muscles when they dropped his lifeless body to the ground. He didn�t bounce but thudded heavily, still after an initial splatter of blood. It took a few more moments for his heart to stop pumping blood around his body, though the force of it would still drain it from his body for some time yet.

The lions panted more heavily, exhilarated by having one more, as before, at their mercy.

That man, however, would be far from the last they would use like that.

And they wouldn�t have it any other way.