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A Gay Lion King Parody

Chapter 18

Sponsored by Johnzaloog

By Draconicon

Scar loomed over his newest conquest. Sakabi was half-broken beneath him, but he didn't fool himself with the thought that the lion was anywhere near fully ready for service. Sakabi might have been shattered with the loss of the old king, but the dark-furred lion knew that even then, he would be days at fully breaking Sakabi to his will. He wanted Mufasa's old Chosen as whole as possible by the end of their little fun; anything less, and the declaration of his superiority could be seen as just a play to his ego. If they were to believe he was better than his brother...

Well, he had to make sure that the message came from a believable source, and there were other ways to break someone than just shattering them in a single session. He could have done that - there were plenty of weak points to take advantage of - but this? This was far more delicious...

He pulled out slowly, his shaft sliding free with a wet slurp as Sakabi gasped for breath beneath him. The once-Chosen, the second-highest of the Pride beneath the King, was a shadow of his former self. From his shaved mane to his pierced nipples, from the cum oozing from his ass down to the weight hanging from his cock, he looked like nothing less than a toy, a hole for any of the Pride to dump their seed in before moving on with their day. And yet, he hadn't broken.

"My, Sakabi...you must hate me very much..."

"You...killed...Mufasa..."

"I did nothing of the sort," Scar said, and it was the truth. He hadn't touched his brother. He hadn't been able to give himself that sort of permission. "It was all down to you and your own misunderstanding of my plans. You took my brother from his cell, and your stupidity got him killed."

"All...all to your profit."

"It has benefited me," he admitted. "But it was hardly the whole plan."

"Mmmph...I can't believe anything you say...liar..."

"A perpetual liar will never be trusted...and so, I must choose mine carefully. So hear the truth in his, Sakabi." He stroked his finger around his brother's former lover's hole. It clenched, squirting some of his royal seed to the stone below. Sakabi gasped, huffing, panting, cock straining to lift and failing. "I will show you who the proper King is...and you will declare my name as his successor."

"Never..."

"Oh, no? Oh, dear, dear, dear..."

He stroked his finger up, and then in. As soon as it slid inside, Sakabi moaned, arching his back, his tail going up and over his back as his toes curled, claws nearly pricking the bottoms of his feet. Scar leaned in, growling in the other lion's ear as he pressed down on that lovely little button.

"Your body already obeys me..."

"It...it does..."

"It does, Sakabi. It knows what it wants...what Mufasa had failed to give you, what I -"

"It's stupid...it doesn't...It doesn't know what it wants...take...take it - ah!"

He twisted his finger, and Sakabi soiled himself with another load. Scar had spent enough time in the former slut to know every button that the lion had, every little point of pleasure that could set him off. It was easy to play with him, and easier still to completely overwhelm him with what he really needed from his lovers. The weight kept the lion's cock pointed down, leaving it dribbling along the stone rather than shooting across the room as it had once done.

"You are breaking, Sakabi...Soon enough, you will be fully broken, as my Wanton One."

"Mmmph..."

"And you will call for me...louder, and with greater need, than you ever did for Mufasa."

He pulled his finger free, and the once proud lion collapsed under him. Half-sure that he heard the soft sound of weeping, he shook his head in disgust. One way or another, Sakabi would learn his place. It would be better for them all when the lion finally gave up the ghost of his hopes.

Scar left the Wanton One in his assigned chamber, making his way through Pride Rock to the throne room. There were decisions of state to make, allegiances to accept, and other things that required a King's attention. They would see him as monarch for now, but the time would come to be something more, something greater. Someone that would take what lions had always deserved.

The rest of the Pride looked at him with respect now, respect that they had never had for him when he was nothing but a shadow on the back of the Rock, Mufasa's brother and nothing more. They'd seen Simba as something more than him, and the Prince had never had his skills, his power. The younger lion had been nothing more than a spoiled brat, though one that had once had the chance to be useful for him. That chance was still there...

If they could find him.

Scar hid a sigh as he walked into the throne room. A glance across the chamber at one of the hyenas confirmed that there was no news from those that he'd posted at the edge of the canyons, no sign of the Prince coming back from the desert. If Simba had made it to the other side - a debatable possibility at the best of times, for the hardiest of lions - then it would be nearly impossible to find him again. But at least he would be out of reach for the rest of the Pride.

At least there, he wouldn't cause problems.

Scar sat down on the great stone throne, something that Mufasa had seldom used. His brother had withdrawn from the Pride Lands, exerting his authority from the peak of Pride Rock by listening in, spying, watching the lands. He had sent messengers to exert his power rather than allowing the other tribes in to see him. It had led to them losing faith in him without knowing it, and in turn, made his conquest that much easier. Scar would not make the same mistake.

As he sat down, his cock resting on the stone for all to see, he nodded at the rhinos at the front of the group. They stepped forward, presenting him with their petition. A simple request for more land, for the chance to farm and raise their crops. Scar knew what they wanted; he'd heard it in the same darkness that had given him knowledge of what would break his Pride, and he already had his answer.

"You may have your land," he said. "But in return, you will send part of your tribe as warriors."

"Warriors? For what, your Majesty?" one of the rhinos asked.

"To protect the Pride Lands."

"But our alliance -"

"Only demands that you come when you are called. These warriors will be ready at all times. They will stand guard at the borders of the Pride Lands, and they will serve me directly."

"..."

"It is the price for what you demand. A small number of your tribe, for a great amount of land."

Just as he'd known what they wanted, he knew what their answer would be. Even as they begged for the time to consider it, and despite giving it to them, he knew that they would come to an agreement. They needed the land, and the food that would come from it, and what were a few warriors for the sake of the survival of the rest of the tribe? It was better than the entire tribe when the King called, as the previous arrangement had been, as far as they were concerned, certainly.

But to Scar, a few men from every tribe would add up quickly enough...and when he had them, he wouldn't need the hyenas.

Shenzi knew what the King was planning, and knew that it was not to the benefit of his people. Their last argument had made it damnably clear that the blackmail that the patriarch of the hyenas held over the lion was the only thing keeping his people in the clear. If that was no longer enough, then they would not just be kicked to the side. Scar would find a way to manipulate the rest of the Pride Lands into seeing them exterminated, nevermind that it was how Mufasa had fallen.

He laid at the top of Pride Rock, watching the setting sun with his eyes on the glowing reds and pinks of the horizon. With his power, he'd heard what Scar was bargaining for. The tribes all through the Pride Lands would take the deal, never thinking of what it would cost them later. Heh. They were all pretty damn stupid. Then again, those that were content to live under others often were.

Rolling on his side, the naked hyena closed his eyes. He breathed in, then out, drawing symbols from memory in the rocks around him. His magic was not that different from that of the old advisor of Pride Rock, though it came from a different place. It came from deep down in the sac, from the dark part of the soul, and he drew on it as he cast his magics.

With one hand on the rock and one over his eyes, he sent his vision through the land. Shenzi spied on the naked animals throughout the Pride Lands, idly enjoying the coupling that he could find before moving on. Here and there, he enjoyed those that were a little more involved with each other, enjoying the kinkiness of it, before pushing further and further towards the borders of the Pride Lands. It didn't take long to bring his eyes to the canyon, though it was a shadowy place, devoid of the light that the King was said to see with his power, and then further to its end.

There, his vision was almost blind. It was next to impossible to cast his eyes past the bounds of the Pride Lands, at least from the top of Pride Rock. The soul of the kingdom only went so far, and so he couldn't see far into the desert. But...

He could see a glow. A distant one, and it promised that Simba was still alive. Somewhere.

The hyena pulled his vision back, panting softly at the effort that the magic had cost him. Shaking his head, he rolled over again, getting to his feet and wobbling from side to side.

If he was going to survive this mess that Scar's ambition had put them in, he needed to find a way to actually take care of his people. His ally wasn't going to do it, and once he'd replaced the hyenas, then the messages that they'd stopped from going to the Outland lions would start moving again. Once that happened, the Pride Lands would be dealing with something much angrier than his people and their scavenging ways. They'd be dealing with a force that even Scar could barely control, if he could at all. It was almost tempting to let it happen, all things considered.

But there was no way to allow it without his own people being butchered. Shenzi shook his head.

"There's still time," he muttered.

And so long as there was time, there were options. Options, he supposed, that could include Naka.

Might as well see if he'd be useful.

Shaking his head, Shenzi began the long descent from the Rock before the shadows could catch him and send him falling. That would be all too great a gift for the dark-furred lion below.

As the sun set on the desert and the moon rose over the jungle, Simba found himself oddly relaxed in the company of his new friends. Timon and Pumbaa were as casual with one another as anyone he'd ever met, and more so. They were constantly handsy with each other, fondling each other, and whenever Simba seemed a bit confused, they just laughed it off and took it even further.

"I...you..."

Simba blushed as he watched both of them fingering each other, three of Timon's small fingers and one of Pumbaa's very busy with each other. Both of them moaned as they shared a quick kiss, and then broke apart again as they walked up the dirt paths leading further into the jungle.

"Are you always like this?" Simba asked as he followed behind.

"Like what?" Timon called back.

"So...all over each other?"

"Hey, doesn't hurt anyone to get a free show, ya know? Oy, Pumbaa? You bothered?"

"By what?" the warthog asked further down the path.

"See?" Timon said. "He doesn't mind."

"But...how do you..."

"What?"

"Never mind."

It was so confusing. He was so used to what his uncle did, and what his people did. In the Pride, one was either a top or a bottom, someone in charge or someone that submitted. They did not have room for anyone else, and it was said that that was the way it was because it was the only way that worked. And yet, here were two complete strangers that lived completely differently.

How? How did they manage it without...

It gave him a headache, and he decided to stop thinking about it. If nothing else, it would come clear later, when they had time to explain it to him.

They walked through the jungle, eventually reaching a clearing near the river that had been loud enough to draw them on for the last hour. Timon and Pumbaa knelt beside it, taking handfuls of water, and Simba took the invitation to do the same. The first few drops were bliss to his throat.

"Mmmph...oh...oh..."

He kept sucking down water for as long as he could, taking handful after handful to his lips until he was sure that he'd pop from just how much he'd drunk. He groaned, rolling his head back and covering his mouth as he fought back a few hiccups. His friends chuckled, shaking their heads.

"Kids. They never learn, do they?" Timon asked.

"Hehehe, yeah. I remember the first time I crossed the desert."

"Yeah? How many times did you get chased back?"

"Less times than you! I have tusks!"

"And a big body, buddy. Big body, big belly, big -"

"Big everything!" Pumbaa declared with obvious pride.

"Yeah, buddy, big everything."

They were all but snuggled down for bed as Simba finally pulled himself away from the river, and there wasn't much room around them for a third. The lion stood up, looking back the way they'd come.

The desert was not empty anymore. What had been clear tracts of sand and heat had turned to a wasteland of blue with specks of black. Red-eyed specks of black, at that, who stared out from the deserted wasteland as if they were inviting him back. If he wanted to lose himself, those eyes promised himself a place to do it.

Simba shivered, putting it out of his head. He had run away to survive, not to die. To live, not to be caged by...whatever they were. He turned away, looking for a spot to sleep, and found one off to the side. He pulled some leaves from the bushes around, creating a rough blanket and bed for himself, and tugged it up and over his sides. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was better than nothing.

He closed his eyes, and soon, he was asleep.

_The sound of moaning pulled him on. Simba heard it clear as day, and could not help but follow it. The sound was fearsome, filled with dread and terror, and yet, there was a low sound of pleasure pulsing through it, almost unwilling, but just barely still wanting.

It was familiar, and yet, it was something that he'd never heard before. Simba followed it against his better judgment, curious as the sound pulled on his cock as much as his curiosity.

Eventually, as he wandered through the shadows of the dream, he found its source. A light burned around a rock, and from behind, two shadows moved. One was on all fours, while the other was kneeling behind it. A rock swayed back and forth between the legs of the former, and he knew that he wouldn't like what he saw on the other side of the rock. He looked anyway._

It was his other parent, Sakabi, and behind him, Scar. They were rutting, and the stone that pulled Sakabi's cock down was drenched in the other lion's cum. He watched, waiting for any sign that his parent could still get hard, but no matter how much Sakabi's cock oozed, it couldn't lift.

He's breaking...

Wanton Ones were weighted, made to lose their touch with their cocks so that they were always focused on their asses. If they were to be out of control, then it was better that they just take what others had to give them rather than try and satisfy themselves with their manhoods. Sakabi had always had a stiff shaft, something worthy of pride, but now? Now, it just hung all but limp.

And Scar whispered words that he found himself mouthing, unable to stop himself.

"This was why you never let Mufasa touch you," Scar and Simba whispered at the same time, the words writ large in the darkness around them. "You knew that once he saw what you were, what you craved, that he would want a different lion. He would take someone else as his Chosen, someone more respectable, someone that didn't have this deep craving for attention, to be broken. You were ashamed, knowing you could never have what you really needed, couldn't be who you really were. But look at you now...look at you, with a limp cock and a loose hole..."

He wanted to stop. He wanted to gag himself, but as he saw the words, they kept coming. They were the fears, the lusts, the wants, the shames that filled the other lion, and even as he read them, they demanded to be said.

"I gave you what you want...now you...will give me what I want...Who is the King?"

"Nnngh..."

"Who has taken you better?"

"Ah..."

"You know the answer. Let it out, Wanton One. There is nobody else here to hear it."

"Nnngh...You...Scar..."

Simba heard it, and he felt the shivers of fear again. Scar's power was breaking someone he'd thought unbreakable, and he was made to bear witness. He half-expected to see Scar turn to him, but no. If his uncle knew he was here, he made no sign of it, focusing all his attention on the Wanton One beneath him.

In, out, in, out, each thrust pushing Sakabi further, making his parent shiver and shake, gasp and moan from the rut. Other words, other things popped up in the darkness, things that demanded to be said. Simba looked away, casting his eyes anywhere but the pair of rutting males.

And then, he saw something else.

There, hidden in the darkness, tucked away beneath all the words about Sakabi, lay a fear entirely unrelated to what was going on before him. It was a simple little thing, something that had been buried time and again beneath the rest of the darkness, but it was there nonetheless.

You will never be better than your brother. You were always the bottom.

He saw it, whispered it, and Scar stopped in mid-thrust. He whipped his head around, his eyes for once filled with fear, and he roared as he pulled away.

The dream shattered, and Simba fell.

Simba gasped as he woke up, his eyes wide, his chest heaving. He sat up from the grasses, whipping his head left and right, but there was no sign of the scene from his dream.

The sun was up, and the desert shimmered at them from the distance. The black shapes from the night before were gone, replaced by the emptiness of the great expanse of sand. Timon and Pumbaa...

The smell in the air told him what they were doing, and the grunts and moans and squelches that followed confirmed it. Laying himself back in the grasses, he slowly shook his head, trying to calm himself down from what he had just seen. For that matter, he tried to understand what it meant.

Why did I see them? Simba wondered. And what did that mean?

It had seemed like a bad dream, at first, almost like something meant to punish him for even thinking of using those powers before. Scar had shown him how, enticed him into it, but even so, it was hardly a good thing for someone to touch those dark parts of another. Even as fun as it had been, even as much as he had learned, he remembered what he had done. The cost was high.

But then...

You will never be better than your brother. You were always the bottom.

Sakabi had no brothers to be jealous of like that, but Scar did...and Mufasa had never, ever been on the bottom between them. Simba stared out at the desert as he remembered Scar's reaction, and knew that his uncle, somewhere, somehow, had heard him. More than that, he'd been scared by what he heard, driven back from what he was doing. It was...oddly satisfying to realize.

But had the rest of the dream been real?

He wouldn't be doing that to Sakabi for real, would he? Simba wondered, reaching down to touch his own cock. His morning wood responded, pressing up against his hand without prompting. He just felt it, rubbing around the head, imagining that twist-tie of vine and rock hanging from him and reminding him of what he was supposed to be, like what was happening to Sakabi right then and there. He was my father's Chosen partner...he wouldn't go that far...

But then...he'd thought that there would be no execution, and there had been. All because of him.

It's...it's still...

"NNNNGH!"

The bellowing moan of the warthog dragged him out of his thoughts, and Simba pulled his hand back from his cock before he could guilt-stroke any longer. Timon popped out from between the trees, the meerkat soaked from his forehead to his neck in strings of cum. He grabbed some leaves and started wiping himself off, and the bulkier warthog stepped through the trees, cock slowly sagging between his legs as he grinned. Pumbaa chuckled, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Timon. Forgot to warn you."

"Yeah, yeah, right. Forgot."

"What's the matter? I thought you liked facials."

"Aloe facials, Pumbaa. Pretty sure you're not pulling that outta your balls, huh?"

"Ooooooh."

"Besides, the kid's staring."

"Oh, right. Hey, Simba. Good morning."

"Um...morning," Simba said, waving nervously at the big-dicked warthog. "Do you guys -"

"Yep."

"Every morning?"

"Heh, almost always. Just depends who's doing what. I woke up first so I got to get off first."

"Translation: he woke up horny and decided to wake me up by fucking my face," Timon said from behind his leaves. "Eh, just means that tomorrow, he's going to wake up under my ass."

"Heh, long as you clean up first."

They were weird, so weird, but the way that they were so flexible with each other was cute at the same time. He smiled despite himself, shaking his head as they pulled themselves together.

"So, uh...where is your home?"

"Well, pretty much here, actually," Timon said, shrugging. "The forest's pretty much our home. We go where we like, sleep where we like, eat where we like. It's a big place."

"So...what do you eat?"

"Huh...yeah, that's a good point, kid. Pumbaa, we don't know anyone we hate enough to feed him, do we?"

"Uh, don't think so?"

"Right. Okay, kid. Looks like you're gonna have to learn to live on something else."

"...like...what?" Simba asked, looking between them. "I...don't think that I can live off that," he added, pointing to their dicks.

"Wha - oh god, kid, we ain't magic. I'm not gonna suggest that. Nah, nah nah nah. Come on."

#

It was a short-ish walk compared to the long trek the night before, but it still took it out of him. Not eating for the last day and a half had him dizzy, and some of the tiredness that came from things other than a lack of sleep started catching up with him. He stumbled as he walked, and his stomach repeatedly complained to him as they made their way through the jungle. The heat and humidity didn't help, either, and he was soon sweating almost as bad as the warthog was.

"Ugh...I thought this was a jungle, not a desert."

"Hey, kid, just because we got shade doesn't mean it gets cool. Why do you think we stick to the river?" Timon said.

"I don't know. I just hate it."

"You'll feel better after you get some food in ya, kid."

"Ugh...what kind of food am I getting, anyway?"

"Yeah, uh...you just hang on with that."

That wasn't making him feel any better, quite honestly, but Simba was too tired to push them on it. He just kept pushing forward, following behind the sweaty warthog and meerkat, just trusting to hope that he'd get something at the end of it.

The jungle was completely different to his home in the Pride Lands. It was less a mix of places between the grassy, the muddy, and the sandy, and more a combination of the first two. Every step either had him sliding over mossy roots or sinking an inch into the mess and muck of the mud. The sweat pouring from every pore only made it worse, making him feel like he was going to get stuck to anything that he touched for more than a few seconds.

Just when he was ready to give up, Timon waved, and they came to a halt. Simba almost fell over.

"Finally."

"Okay, kid. Here's the important question. How hungry are ya?"

"I'm starving."

"Nah, nah. That's not what I mean. How hungry are ya? Are you going to complain?"

"...How bad is this thing?"

"Considering you were eating, what, zebra?"

"And other things," Simba admitted.

"It's a downgrade. Let's just say that."

"Oh man, what are you going to put in my mouth?"

"...Might be a good idea for you to close your eyes, kid."

Oh, that was really sounding unpleasant. Simba groaned under his breath, but he knew that he had to eat something. If he didn't, he could tell that starvation really was right on the horizon. His stomach grumbled painfully, and he felt like he was going to be turned inside-out if he didn't get something in the next couple of hours. The lion sighed, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

"Pumbaa, get it."

Every instinct he had told him to get the hell out of there. They were still mostly strangers without any reason to actually help him. This could be the way that they got rid of him so that he couldn't hurt them. This could be the way that they got away so that he could just starve to death. It could be a hundred different tricks...

But they'd been good to him so far, and he hadn't deserved that. He hadn't deserved anything that they'd done to help him, so he'd take it on faith. He'd trust them as much as they were willing to trust him.

Something shifted, creaking and cracking in the background. It sounded like some log or something like that, but it was followed by something else skittering. It could have been something small, a squirrel or a rat, but he had a feeling that those wouldn't be nearly bad enough to justify their earlier reactions. He grimaced, whimpering as he waited for the thing that they wanted him to eat.

Then, he felt it. Something hard. Something moving.

He chomped down almost instantly, and it broke apart. It was crunchy, then slimy, and there was something almost salty to it. He ignored Timon yelping and screaming about almost losing his finger, trying to find something, anything good about the thing that he'd just had put in his mouth.

It...

It was...

Ooooh, it was gross, it was disgusting, but it went down quickly. It didn't last long, no real flavor, and there wasn't the threaded feeling of meat between his teeth that happened sometimes. He focused on that good thing, that tiny good thing, and put the rest of the slime and muck out of his head.

Ignoring the crunchy bits between his teeth and trying to swallow them before he could think about them too much, Simba slowly opened his eyes. Timon had his hands on his hips, glaring up at him.

"Some sort of gratitude you have," the meerkat said.

"Ugh...what was that?" Simba complained.

"A beetle."

"A beetle?!"

"You ate it, kid. Crunchy bits and all. And it didn't kill ya, did it?"

"Ugh...that's so gross..."

"You want to starve? That's the other option, kid. Unless you wanna go hunting in the desert at night."

Simba thought of the black-furred, red-eyed shapes out there, and a shiver ran down his spine. They were the hunters out there. That was their territory, not his.

"That's what I thought. So, unless you got a better idea, you're eating bugs until we find you something bigger and better."

"...Great."

"Hey, if you don't like biting through 'em, I can crush 'em and you can lick 'em off," Pumbaa offered.

Simba hated that something like that sounded like a better choice.

The End

Summary: Scar continues the slow breaking of Sakabi, and Simba learns a little more about the dark stuff, and more about his friends.

Tags: M/M, Anal, Creampie, Fingering, Facial, Oral, Off-Screen Sex, Rule 34, All Gay, TLK, The Lion King, Lion King, Parody, Series, Simba, Timon, Pumbaa, Nudity, Sweat, Bug, Cum, Orgasm, Humiliation,