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The hyena and the lioness

By Strega

He was not the largest of his kind, this hyena, or the smartest or the strongest, but he was smart and strong enough to survive. He stole prey from cheetahs (which pretty much any predator would do at the least opportunity), ran down young gazelles, or if needs must lived on turtles or other small fare.

It had been two full turns of the seasons since he was chased from his pack, driven away by the females. They thought he wanted too much say in what was, after all, a female-run clan. They were bigger, stronger, and more aggressive, and they were happy to explain these facts to any male who disagreed.

Pack life had its ups and downs, but it was far more secure than a solitary existence. Just as the lions driven from their prides eventually fell victim to illness, injury or various enemies, so he must keep his head down and stay well out of sight. If nothing else he must avoid meeting any lion whatsoever, for the hatred between the two was such that even a raggedy-maned male lion on his last tottery steps would jump at the chance to kill him.

So when on a belly-creep through the brush towards the waterhole in an attempt to surprise something small and tasty he saw the lioness, his first thought was anything but attack.

She was only half again his mass, which meant she was small and slight by the standards of her kind. Yet she was sleek and muscular, not like his hump backed, long necked frame built to support great strong jaws and little else.

She lay down to lap at the water and he made to creep away, then paused. He could not take his eyes off the sleek hips and rump so temptingly close. It had been a very long time since he had such a look at a female's rump, and against his better judgment he considered that it would take only a moment to dart forward, dig his teeth into her scruff and mount her.

That line of thought led to him being mauled and almost certainly killed by an angry lioness, and he knew it. He lay in the tall grass for longer than he should, thinking about what it would like to have his way with her. Each time he made to back away his growing arousal would distract him once more.

He loathed lions as much as any hyena and thought of filling a proud lioness with his seed was seductive. What a humiliation it would be for her to be taken against her will! Killing her would be kinder than leaving her with the memory of an encounter with a randy hyena.

He almost tried it. She was taking so long at her drink that he had enough time to half-rise to his feet, then shiver and lie down twice. Horny and full of hatred as he was he knew the likely outcome of the attempt. Unless he bit down on her neck perfectly in the first instant she would spin around and a bloody fight would ensue - one he would probably lose. Even if he did get the bite he might kill her, so strong were his jaws, and though mounting a dead lioness would let him spend his lust it didn't have the same appeal as forcing himself on a live one.

As he finally shifted his weight to creep away, one rounded feline ear swiveled around to point at him. She did not need to turn her head to know what he was and what he wanted.

"I can smell your lust, hyena," the lioness purred. "If it bothered me, you would already have felt my displeasure."

He froze as he realized she was right. In his distraction he'd ignored the breeze, which had shifted to blow from behind him. As his muscles tensed for panicked flight she spoke again.

"It has been so long since I knew a male," the lioness purred, and moved her tail to the side to expose her sex. "I have seen male hyenas before, you know. You are bigger beneath than lions, and I've always wondered what it would be like. Why don't you and I find out? There's no one here to see or know."

"Maybe you've seen our females and thought them males," the hyena did not say, for that was an easy mistake to make. What he said instead was, "How do I know you won't grab me when I come close?", for the thought of mounting the lioness had not moved far from the forefront of his mind. The nagging itch of lust still begged powerfully to be scratched, and here was a female with which to scratch it.

"And get into a fight for no reason?", she purred, and sprawled out on her side with one leg raised. Her sex, triangular and visibly moist, flared wider. "I only want part of a hyena for a meal, and it is not my belly that hungers for you."

"This is a bad idea," the hyena muttered to himself, but still he stepped forward. "I shouldn't be doing this," as he lowered his rump to align his swollen sheath with her sex.

And then he didn't say anything more, just growled as he arched and thrust himself into her. The lioness let out a yowl as she was filled, and the hyena had his own proof in her tightness that hyenas really were "bigger underneath" than lions.

It wasn't at all like his few encounters with hyena females. They really were like a male underneath, and mounting a larger, stronger, and strangely endowed female was a struggle even if you weren't worried she would turn and maul you. And, hyena-femmes being hyena-femmes, you had to worry about that too. It was a nervous business trying to sate your lust with one of them.

This was a nervous business too, being this close to a lioness, but at least their parts aligned easily enough, and in a moment his shaft was wrapped in lioness to the hilt and he was humping enthusiastically. Each thrust drove a half yowl, half purr out of the lioness, who soon rolled fully onto her back and wrapped her forepaws around him to help - or rather force - him to thrust even harder.

Belly to belly and rutting for all he was worth he grinned and nipped into her neckfur. It hadn't worked out quite how he had planned, but he was still having his way with the lioness. What a story he would have to tell his few friends. He, a hyena of low status, leaving his seed in a proud lioness!

But the lioness had ideas of her own as to how this meeting should end, and as to whether he should have a chance to tell the tale. As he panted and thrust himself against her those strong forepaws, claws just barely unsheathed and scratching his hide, pulled him down until they were nose to nose. She grinned back at him, gave his nose a lick, and then before he could react his head was in her mouth.

"Wait," he said, confused for a moment as to what was happening. Between one blink and the next things had gone dark and moist and sharp fangs pressed into his nape, preventing him from pulling back out. Then a strong push of her tongue and a great contraction of her throat muscles left no doubt was to what she was doing. Slick wet flesh slid over and around his head as she engulfed it, and already he could smell the churning acids waiting him at the end of the chute. The lioness was swallowing him whole.

He managed only a muffled complaint, muzzle held shut by her throat, and scrabbled with his forepaws. He got them firm against her chest and tried to push her away, only for her own paws to lock around his upper legs and force them against his sides. When she had a good, firm grip her jaws separated again, and with a slow chewing motion his neck was taken into her gullet.

He couldn't stop her. Beneath that smooth tan pelt were the muscles of a huntress. She was stronger than he was and she had his forelegs pinned to his sides. Already her jaws were working their remorseless way over his shoulders, the bulkiest part of his hunchbacked body. Once they were inside and her swallowing muscles got a good grip it would be all but over. Kick and squirm though he might he was going down her throat, ending his life as lion food. He'd been right to be nervous; his encounter with the lioness was going to end with a belch.

There was one last thing he could do, and he was already doing it. His haunches, through whatever primitive impulse powered mating, had never stopped their arching. He might be destined to be a ball of fur hacked up by a lioness when she was done digesting her meal, but his life wasn't the best imaginable anyway. He'd have one last moment of pleasure before he disappeared into her belly.

He dug his hindpaws into the dusty grass and dry earth and slammed into her with all his might, not caring that each thrust pushed another half-inch of him into her maw. The only inches he cared about were the ones he was shoving in and pulling back out. Elastic though the jaws swallowing him were her sex was still almost uncomfortably snug. Surely he was hung better than even a big lion.

He would leave her something to remember him by, he thought in the glow of building orgasm. Even as her fangs scraped over the last of his ribcage and her throat began to take the grip that would soon send him into her stomach he thrust, and his efforts were rewarded. The wet sex surrounding his shaft squeezed down, a long shudder passed through the flesh wrapped around him, and with a long, muffled yowl the lioness came.

He followed almost instantly, the wet pressure of rippling cat-sex stretched around his shaft too much to resist. It'd been a long while since he found a private moment to relieve his lust, and thick ropes of hyena semen spurted into her in turn. With his balls and shaft throbbing he thrust the last and hardest, spending himself in the cat that would soon digest him. A few less calories for her, unless she licked his seed from her sex after finishing her meal, but a long last moment of pleasure for one doomed hyena.

They came down together from the shivering climax, both weak and spent, she too tired to swallow and he too exhausted to use this moment to escape. It would have been a futile effort anyway, as far as he was into her. One toss of her jaws and his haunches would follow the rest, and he would be mere meat and bone for her belly, a great pelt-stretching bulge in her midsection until the acids took their toll on him. A hundred and fifty pounds of hyena, about to be a hundred and fifty pounds of lioness food. His nose lay against the valve of her stomach, and he could smell and hear the gurgling caustic hell that waited for him.

But she did not toss her muzzle upward to gather him in for swallowing. For a long minute she lay quietly, wrapped around most of him above and ten inches of him below. Half-stifled breaths sucked in through her nostrils filtered through his wet fur and into her lungs. Still she did not finish her meal.

To his astonishment when she did move, it was in another direction. Fangs scraped through his saliva-matted fur as she disgorged his ribcage, and then his shoulders. Not daring to hope as his neck emerged from her jaws, not even when pink light showed past her lips, and finally his wet, matted face slipped free. She'd been one gulp from finishing her meal, and instead here he was in the light again, nose to nose with a smiling lioness and wrapped tight in her paws.

"I'm impressed," she purred, and gave his nose an affectionate lick that barely displaced the thick coating of lubricating mucus her throat had laid down as he was swallowed. "I've never had a male so determined to finish he kept at it as I was eating him. Most of them panic, wilt, and go down whimpering."

The hyena coughed up a gobbet of her saliva and sucked delicious air through his nostrils. He still did not dare hope; she was still stronger, and still could gulp him down. At least he was alive for another minute, though.

"There was nothing for it," he said. "You had me almost swallowed. To be food for you was not what I wanted, but other than that, you know hyena-femmes are bigger and stronger than males. I'm used to not being in charge."

She was still smiling. That was a good sign. "And, well, you are easier on the eye than anyone I have met, and it'd been a long time since I was with a female."

"Mmm," she purred, and the iron grip of her paws loosened. Perhaps he wouldn't be lioness food tonight after all.

When she released him completely and rolled onto her belly, he knew he should run. She was facing away, and he'd have a moment's head start. Instead he waited to see what she would say next.

"And are you willing to wait as long, before you are again with a female?" she purred, and moved her tail to one side.

He did not have to answer, for he was already stepping over her. With a forepaw on either side of her body and his own haunches straddling hers he crouched to mount, and the saliva-sodden hyena once more began to arch his back.

It took two hours for the hyena to mount, dismount, then twice more service the lionesses. The onlookers waited patiently until with a flip of her paw she dismissed her lover, and the still-damp hyena, fur matted with her drool, disappeared into the night. There was a last exchange of pleasantries, about perhaps meeting again, and he was gone.

When the rustle of paws on grass faded the second and third lionesses appeared from the brush and entered the little clearing where the well-sated first one lay.

"I must say I did not expect that," the largest said. "The last hyena you lay with is now just a memory. And all the others before that, for that matter."

The smallest lioness, who smelled of hyena from her muzzle to stretched-out sex, flicked her whiskers. "Ah, but he was a very good lover. If I had finished my meal, I wouldn't have enjoyed his company as much."

The largest lioness made a gagging noise, and the other two watched with mild interest as she hacked up a slimy mass that until recently had been the mane and fur of a lone male lion. He had thought himself the luckiest lion alive to find the three lionesses; it had taken all three of them to overpower him and stuff him into the elder sister's gullet.

"Perhaps so," the largest said, "but I enjoyed this one's company even after he stopped wriggling."

"Our little sister may have a point," said the middle-sized lioness, whose last meal of note had been a leopard who had happily mated with her right up until she pulled him close and yawned. After that, his interest in sex had rapidly waned. Before that had been a lioness who thought to join their little band. They had all found her disagreeable, and in the end the middle sister found her quite digestible. "That hyena really was a vigorous lover. And he did not try to run, even when she gave him the chance."

"Had he tried to run he would be in our small sister's stomach now," growled the largest.

"Yes indeed," purred that sister, who had coughed up half a dozen or more hyena-fur hairballs in her time. Solitary hyenas, usually males, were among the easiest prey to lure close. She just had to look vulnerable. "Or one of yours, if I were a touch slow. But this one was something special. He was afraid of me, but liked me nonetheless."

"I would say he liked you about four times," the middle sister said with a grin.

"Now I want you to promise me that if he shows his face again you will leave him to me," purred the little sister. "If he is going to disappear down anyone's throat it should be mine."

"Feh," growled the largest sister, but then "Very well, he is yours."

"Will you eat him then, little sister?" said the mid-sized one. "I thought you liked him, hyena though he was."

"If he pleases me as well next time, perhaps not," said the smallest lioness with a smile. "We'll just have to wait and see."