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A Gay Lion King Parody Chapter 5: Learning Domination Sponsored by Johnzaloog By Draconicon

The scene before him was so jarring that Simba still didn't know what to look at. His uncle leaned back against the stone wall of the back of Pride Rock, his face lifted in a smirk and his cock likewise rising and bobbing. There was Sarakiba, the wanton one, no longer smirking but moaning instead, almost as if he had been broken, as if he had been taken down a peg and left without the pride that he had always shown before then.

And then there was the mess between them, seed and blood spread across the wanton one's back, and yet, despite the obvious pain, the lion still offered himself for more.

Simba stared between his uncle and the tempter, his eyes wide and his cock hard. The prince didn't know what to say, didn't even know what to think. All he knew was that it had lit a fire in him, something that he didn't know what to do with.

"You have questions?" Scar had asked. "Then ask, nephew...and I will answer."

There was so much more than a single question here, however. He kept staring at the dripping rump of the wanton one, at the vine ropes that had been used to restrain Sarakiba's sheath and sac to the boulders in the back of the Rock. One false move, and the wanton one would be more than neutered. He would be unmanned completely. And yet, he seemed to tug at them, pulling back and teasing himself with the danger. Simba's cock jerked, not sure if he did it in confused arousal at the show, or in...in temptation for something else.

He shook his head, panting softly as he looked away, finally.

"I did something, Uncle Scar." He shook his head. "I don't...I didn't understand it, but me and Naka were fighting, and -"

"And you saw something."

"...I...it was more like...feeling something."

The lanky older lion smiled, nodding and gesturing for him to continue. Almost as if he couldn't help himself, Simba did.

"We were starting the sort of...sex fighting, I guess," Simba said as he sat down on one of the other rocks. "We were just supposed to tease, but I saw what he wanted, and I just...I went for it. I made him groan from playing with his chest, and then...then, even when he had me pinned underfoot...I turned it back on him, and..."

"And you saw him squirm, didn't you, Simba?"

"...yes."

"And it felt good, didn't it?"

The prince blushed, his cock twitching as he pulled his legs together, embarrassed at just how much his body still remembered that pleasure. It had been wrong, so wrong to push Naka like that, to take charge, to turn the fight around with such ease. He could have been a gracious loser, but -

But at the same time, he had been so pleased with winning, to have a chance to actually beat his bodyguard at something for once. The hunger to be on top, the need to have something that he was better at, had made him do something that he normally wouldn't do. He'd turned the fight around just by pushing Naka to believe that he was such a servant that even though Simba was on the bottom, Naka was the one that was serving, still, with a fetish to be touched, to be of use.

It had been glorious. It had made him feel like a prince with his long-time bodyguard for the first time.

Scar must have seen him shivering, because his uncle was there shortly after. The dark-furred lion rested a hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

"You've taken your first step into a much bigger world, my nephew."

"Why did that feel so good?"

"Because you want to have control."

Scar chuckled, caressing the side of the prince's face with the back of his hand, and Simba turned his head unconsciously to allow it. His uncle's hand was surprisingly gentle, and so was his voice. Soft, deep, almost like a deep darkness that was luring one into it for a long sleep.

"It felt right to have power over someone else, didn't it, little prince? To know that you had the strength to tell someone else what to do, to know exactly what you could do to make them obey."

"He...he wanted it, though. Didn't he?"

"Oh, yes. They all want something. It's just a matter of how you give it to them. Just like Sarakiba here wanted something from me, and I gave it to him..."

Looking at the wanton one again, he could see the shivers running up and down Sarakiba's spine, and more than that, he could see the way that the lion was thrusting his ass out, seed dribbling from his gaping hole over his balls, and then from there to the ground. There had never been any shame to the wanton one's actions before, but this was something different. This was...this wasn't the shameless offering, but rather the hunger for something deeper, to be of use as an object rather than lusted for as a person.

It was a completely different lion, and someone that Simba barely recognized.

"Why would someone want that?"

"Like I told you, nephew. There are some that want to be dominated. That crave it down to their bones. They want to be held down, to be shown where they belong, to be turned into something that benefits you rather than something that benefits them. The lesser ones, the prey, the weaker hunters: they all want it, and you just need to know how to see it."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at him, Simba," Scar said, moving around to stand behind him. Simba blushed as he felt his uncle's sac against the back of his head, and his cheeks burned that little bit worse as he realized Scar was still dripping against the back of his head. "What do you see?"

"I see a broken lion."

"Look harder, Simba. I know you can see this. You saw it with Naka. Now, try and see it with someone else..."

The way that Scar almost purred in his ear made it harder to deny his uncle his request. He shivered, shuffling about on the rock, rubbing his feet together in a shuffling, shy motion, but the hands on his shoulders kept him pinned. There was no running away from this, so he might as well try and give his uncle what he wanted.

Simba stared at the wanton one. He had always been aware of the piercings that the slutty lion had worn, had always been aware of the offers that were made with the body as much as with the mouth. He had seen Sarakiba throw down challenge after challenge to the better-endowed males on the savannah, but he had always seen it done in pride, in confidence, challenging them to try and better him.

But was that all?

The longer he stared, the more he felt the strange feeling of darkness that had woken him the night before. He stared at the lion, at the wanton one, and he felt...something else. Something deeper, something harsher.

Something hungrier.

"I see...I see something..."

"Describe it to me, nephew," his uncle said, chuckling softly. A claw stroked along his jawline, almost running along his neck. "And do be precise...you know how much I prefer details."

"Mmmph...I see...I see something...a bottomless hole...something that...that keeps getting deeper...a hunger that doesn't...doesn't get filled..."

"Oh, very good. You see deeper than Mufasa ever did at your age," Scar said, and Simba felt a strange rush of pride. "Tell me more..."

Simba pushed himself, feeling a strange need to keep going, to dig deeper in this. He didn't know why. His uncle had never been that kind to him before, though the lanky lion had always been one to answer questions that the rest of the Pride would not touch. He had told Simba had the world worked, and had been the first one to explain the way that sex worked between males. There had been no demonstrations - that had been up to Sakabi and Mufasa - but the actual mechanics had been explained by Scar.

His uncle's darkness was making it hard for him to focus, though, and the pressure of that claw against his throat was all the more daunting as it pressed a little bit harder, almost as if he was being tested, as if his skills were the only thing allowing him to stay unharmed. He gulped, but his cock throbbed harder at the challenge.

He pushed himself, pushed himself to see through the darkness that lingered around Sarakiba, and he started to see more, feel more. They were like visions, little images that needed to be interpreted in order to understand what it meant. He could feel them, though, feel what the pictures stood for, and he spoke as they came rushing past him.

"He wanted to find someone that could satisfy him, someone that didn't care what sort of propriety they were dealing with. That's why he went to the prey, hoping that they would be able to take him, break him, that they'd be happy enough to do something to a lion when they normally couldn't...

"But then they weren't enough. They were big, they were thick, they were rough, but they were always rough in the moment, never for long. And they wouldn't take the time to show him off afterward. He was getting less and less satisfied..."

"And then he came to me."

"And you..."

"Yes?"

"You...you did something...you found that...that hunger...and you made him see it..."

"Mmmm, very good, Simba. Very good, indeed."

The claw slipped away, and Simba let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he was holding. He coughed slightly, leaning forward with his hands on his knees as Scar walked around him.

"What...what was that?"

"That, Simba, is the power of domination." Scar chuckled. "The power to see what another wants, and using it to make them yours."

"...Is that...is that what dad does?"

"He flatters himself to think that he does something like this. All he does is guide others. What I do, what we do, is make them ours."

Another little inclusion, and Simba smiled a bit, rubbing the back of his head. It was weird to be allowed to feel like this, to be given that acknowledgement from someone that was so feared and strange, and yet...yet, he welcomed it. It was better than the limitations that Sakabi put on him, or what his father never had the time to give him.

He shuffled back and forth on the boulder, looking at Sarakiba again. Once more, his cock jumped up at the sight of that broken hole, and the blood on the lion's back didn't seem that important anymore. It was more like...like something that had been done to make it more believable. Something that was necessary.

Necessary. That was a good word for it.

"Now, Simba. I've answered your questions," Scar said. "Perhaps you can do a favor for me..."

"Sure," Simba said without thinking. "I mean, you did just...you gave me a lot of ideas. What do you want?"

"I must send a message to one of the tribes in the Pride Lands, and Sarakiba will be my messenger. If you wouldn't mind, I want you to go with him and ensure that the message is received."

"...What kind of message, Uncle Scar?"

"A message that may just bring about peace between us and the hyenas."

Simba's mouth fell open, his jaw near to touching the hard stone beneath his feet. He blinked, shaking his head, sure that he'd heard his uncle wrong.

The hyenas were a raiding tribe, numerous enough to be a great source of strife on the northern border of the Pride Lands. They struck at the tribes on the border often enough to risk war on a regular basis, and only the power of the Pride kept them from pushing deeper than the border regions. The fact that the people there were still safe was a mark towards the power of the King.

And the hyenas themselves were a very rough sort of people. Simba could remember seeing them once, when his father had taken him to the border during the tour of the kingdom. He had been too young to have registered the sexual aspects of their society, but he had seen the way that they struck, the way that they fought, the way that they growled and disdained the more civilized life of the lions. They were hard-off, and they knew it, and they had no shame about it. If anything, they seemed to throw that in the faces of the better-off people of the Pride Lands, showing how little they needed to survive and how much more everyone else seemed to 'need.'

To think that he was being asked to go there, of all places, sent a shiver down his spine, and he honestly didn't know what to say to his uncle about that. He looked at the dark-furred lion, his mouth opening and closing.

Scar chuckled.

"Of course, such a message can be delivered without a witness, but you know how the hyenas are. They may take a lion alone as easy prey, even one that has the stamina of dear Sarakiba here."

"You...you'd risk his life for this message?"

"For the importance of it, I would risk my own, were it not for the fact that I am your back-up for the throne."

Scar risking his own life. That was something that had never happened, and most had imagined that it never would. The dark brother of the king was someone that everyone perceived as a coward, but the longer that Simba sat there, the less he believed it.

His uncle was far from a coward. He merely picked what was worth risking himself for with great care.

Simba looked back at the broken lion. To send Sarakiba alone would likely get the wanton one killed. There were some in the Pride that would say that it was no great loss, but he wasn't one of them. He had always been taught that it was better to keep the Pride together, weak and strong alike, rather than to purge the weak. And Scar, obviously, had made his decision about sending Sarakiba in the first place. There was no way that they would be able to get Scar to back down on that.

So, that left but one decision.

"I'll go."

"Splendid, my nephew, splendid."

Scar smiled.

"I will make sure that my dear brother doesn't bother you on the way there. After all, you will want to get this done quickly and quietly. There's no need for your daddy to know that this is going on until it's done."

"Why not?"

"Because unlike me, he seeks to ignore them. He would keep any attempts at peace from happening, unless the hyenas were to start it," Scar said, rolling his eyes. "He would ignore everyone else, all the suffering that they're going through, just because he is king."

Remembering how it had gone on the top of the rock, during those few minutes that was supposed to be just his and his dad's, Simba could believe that. Mufasa was so focused on the details of being king that he didn't seem to have time for anyone anymore. The little bits and pieces that they had once snatched together as father and son had slowly faded away, going from hours a day to minutes in a week. It still hurt to think that he had lost so much over time.

But maybe, just maybe, he would be able to get that back. If they managed to secure peace...

Simba nodded.

"I understand, Uncle."

"That's a good lad. Now, run along. Sarakiba will meet you at the base of the Rock when I'm done with him."

Nodding again, the prince hopped down from his seat. He had just started walking around the corner when Scar called out.

"And Simba?"

"Hmm?" he said, turning around.

"It's our little secret. After all, you don't want anyone to find out you can do this, do you?"

The prince blushed, remembering what he had seen in Sarakiba, remembering flashes of what he had seen in Naka. The tempting darkness was there, still, and knowing how it worked, he knew that he'd be tempted to use it again and again and again in the near future. He shivered, nodding at Scar before running around the corner.

Chuckling to himself, the dark monarch of the Pride Lands turned back to the bound lion before him. He stroked a clawed finger along the back of Sarakiba's sac, feeling them trembling beneath his touch.

"The prince is talented," he admitted, shaking his head. "More talented than I expected from someone his age."

"Mmmmph...you...you can't seriously be..."

"Ah, is someone finding their spine again?" Scar asked, his finger shifting from sac to tail, and then along the soft line in the middle of the other feline's back. "Perhaps I should remind you how easily that can be removed..."

"Ah...ah..."

"Don't forget, Sarakiba. You are mine, now. You will not find a master that can give you what I can...I am your predator, and you are my prey."

"Y-yes, predator. Yes."

"Good. Now..."

A flick of his claws cut the vine that held the other lion down against the rocks, freeing him to move again. Scar wasted no time, pulling Sarakiba up by the bone nipple piercings that the lion had, keeping them eye to eye. He smirked to himself.

"You are going to carry this message for me to the hyenas, and you are going to give it to them word for word..."

His once-plan of creating an ambush for the prince and his father had long-since fallen through. There was no point in trying to see them dead, now, nor was there a point in seeing Simba captured by the hyenas. Mufasa had all the strength to wage war, and the hyenas were too dull to use another as a hostage.

Besides, there were other, more elegant uses of his family members than corpses. At least, for the moment.

The boy has talent. Now, will that talent work for me...or against me...

That was the question Scar had to ask himself, and so far, there wasn't enough information for him to have an answer. Soon enough, though, soon enough, he would have the answer that he sought.

Simba ducked around the side paths on Pride Rock to make his way down to the base without being seen. It took more than a little effort to avoid some of the hunters, but he was able to get down without anyone questioning him.

As he stood in the sunlight rather than the shade, he savored the feeling of it dancing along his pelt, warming him from head to toes and back again, and everywhere in-between. The feeling of the sunlight on his sheath was nice, particularly as his shaft had finally shrunk inside again.

He couldn't stop thinking of Sarakiba, however, nor of how Scar had treated the lion.

That darkness...do we all have that? Do we all have that hunger? he wondered.

Remembering the zebra at the rocks, he wondered what Scar had seen there. Simba didn't know what sort of visions might have come from the striped one, but he imagined that there'd been something, some small hunger that Scar had used to turn that prideful zebra into something that begged to be used, abused...

Controlled...

The very idea of a lion wanting to be controlled should have been completely absurd, but he had seen the pleasure that Sarakiba had gotten from it, had seen the way that the hunger had almost consumed the wanton one. The name had never been more fitting, he realized, and he shivered as he imagined the other ones that had the same joking title pushed to that edge. Would they drop, just like Sarakiba had?

Would he?

Simba tried to dismiss the idea, but the thought of someone having him by the balls, the idea of someone else finding his weakness and stripping him of thought was both terrifying and...oddly arousing. It would be a defeat far more intense than anything that Naka had hit him with over the course of their years of training, and he had no idea if it was possible to come back from that.

Would someone want to?

He groaned, shaking his head. It was not worth thinking about, and besides, he was the prince. There was a certain amount of respect due to him, and a certain number of responsibilities.

But if he could get away from those responsibilities...

Simba sighed, rubbing his forehead until he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the Rock behind him. He looked over his shoulder, saw that Sarakiba was coming. Forcing a smile, he turned around.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I can be, Predator Simba."

There was a twitch to his cock at that, but Simba did his best to resist. Instead, he gestured for Sarakiba to lead the way, and soon, they were running across the Pride Lands, their feet carrying them across dusty earth and muddy riverbanks alike. Neither, however, were aware that they were being followed.

Naka followed in the grasses while Zazu took to the sky. The young lion growled under his breath as he was forced to run faster than usual, surprised that the prince had as much speed behind him as he did.

Either he's been holding back, or something's changed.

Either way, Naka could still follow, he just had to move a bit faster than he was used to. Every so often, he'd glance at the sky, following the slender bird's cues as to what direction to take, but for the most part, he merely had to keep running in a straight line. Such runs were easy to maintain, and filled with distractions.

In this case, the distracting memory of their last fight.

You like to serve your prince that much, do you? Look at how hard you are, rubbing my cock with your foot...

Naka almost stumbled, catching himself on a dead tree before he could hit the ground. His foot had long-since dried from the teasing that he had tried to give Simba during the fight, but for a moment, he could almost feel the warmth of his prince's cock against his foot again. He blushed worse as he remembered just how hard Simba had hit him with that.

He'd always taken some confidence from the way that he had always been the one to beat the prince, the one that had the privilege to knock him down and show him who was the better fighter, but in that moment, all that confidence had been pulled away. Simba's sudden attack on his nipples - and the grasses around him were 'attacking' them too, as he walked through them, sending teasing trembles through his body - had been the beginning of that fall, and it had hit him hard.

Service...

Everyone had always been clear that he was nothing more than the bodyguard of the prince. Not a friend, not a lover, just a bodyguard to keep him safe. Naka had been his sparring partner, had taken care of that part of business ever since they had been shoved together, and he'd always been the better fighter. But he was not allowed to think of it as a relationship, or even a friendship.

'Service' was all that he was allowed, and he'd tried to keep it to that, even as some part of him had hoped for more with the arrogant little prince. There'd been times that he wanted to punch Simba's face in, and there'd been times...

Times when he wanted more.

'Service' was all that had been allowed, and to hear Simba flip that word on its head, to shove the other implications of it forward -

There was a sharp caw from above, and he knew that meant that he was losing track. He looked up, saw where Zazu was flying, and he turned his attention back to the hunt.

Whatever had happened on the Rock, he would sort it out later. For now, he had a prince to track.

#

Further and further they roamed from Pride Rock, and the further from it they went, the more that Simba was aware of the darkness in the world. Everything that the sun touched from Pride Rock was part of the Pride Lands, part of the kingdom that the lions ruled, but there was something...something off about the lands the further from it they went. Simba had not been so far from it in years, and he had almost forgotten it. Or if he had ever known it, for that matter.

Underneath the golden light of the sun, he could feel the shadows that ran between the strands of grass, the hard, thudding beat of the land beneath his feet. It was not the passing of herds, however, but the thudding of life in the realm.

He had felt something similar to that with his father more than once, but this was not the same. It was like Scar had said. There was a darkness, a hunger in the land, and it was just as much a power as what his dad used.

Sarakiba seemed tireless as he ran forward, and Simba followed behind, his eyes unable to look away from the scars on the wanton one's back, nor from the swaying ass that bounced and swayed before him as they made their way through the grasslands. More than once, he imagined his cock buried between the cheeks, just as Scar's had been, and his cheeks burned as he realized just how much he wanted that. Just how much he wanted to master the lion before him.

Whether he gave some signal of that or not, they stopped before the border. The great monolith of stone that marked the entrance to the elephant graveyard loomed a few hundred feet away, and the savannah's grasslands came to a sudden end some way before that. Sarakiba stopped, shaking his head as he sat down on one of the rocks. Simba joined the wanton one.

"What is it?"

"Catching my breath. Delivering this message is going to take a while."

"Is this a more...physical message?"

"Heh. You figured that out?"

"It felt like something my uncle would do."

"Yes. It's definitely something like that..."

Sarakiba shook his head, looking away, and Simba glanced down at the lion's crotch. There was a slight swelling to the sheath, which surprised him. The thought that anyone could want to be with a hyena was something that he had never imagined. They were musky, dirty, sweaty creatures, and it was well-known that their ruttings were some of the roughest of the Pride Lands.

There were even rumors that they had some sort of shaman in their midst, someone that could take that sort of sex and turn it into something else, a binding power that would put someone in service to the shaman for the rest of their lives. Those rumors accused a number of different people in the Pride Lands of being hyena puppets, of having their minds owned by another.

Simba would have dismissed those claims, were it not for the fact that he had seen Scar do something very similar to Sarakiba. The way that his uncle had completely conquered the wanton one was definitely a bit of evidence towards someone else knowing the darkness in others. Shaking his head, the prince curled his toes in the dusty ground. He needed to do something, something to...

To feel in control again. Something to feel better about what was coming.

"Sarakiba."

The wanton one turned to look at him, and Simba looked into the darkness again.

There was much to see. There were images of vine ropes, images of claws, images of seed and musk and the power of scent. He saw many things that the wanton one imagined, all of them tracing back to Scar...but he saw something else. The hunger to humiliate himself further, the hunger to be something so wanton that none could look at him as anything but the little slut that he was.

Flowing with that darkness, Simba groped himself, squeezing his sheath.

"I knew you were a slut, but I didn't think that you were that desperate."

"Wha-what are you talking about?"

"I finally get it. Trying to seduce the king's son when he's barely old enough for something like this. Not just a slut for big men, but for the little ones, too."

"I...I never..."

The darkness was changing, the images coming faster. There'd never been a hunger for political gain, but rather to be the first one for the prince to fuck, the first one to seduce the prince. A hunger to be used by royalty.

And now, that had changed again. Not just the urge to be fucked by royalty, but the need to be even less. Simba smiled as his sheath started filling out further.

"And now, you can't even keep your mind on your mission, can you? All you can think about is cock. It looks like Scar needs to put you on a tighter leash. Or maybe I should take the leash from him, and let you serve me, instead."

The words were just coming to him. He had never actually thought about this before, but the more that he let himself fall into the darkness, the urges that led to the weaknesses of other people, the more the words came to him. It was like they were filling his mind, telling him exactly what to say to break someone else.

And Sarakiba moaned, shivering, his eyes going from Simba's face down to the prince's groin. The golden lion gripped the base of his cock as it continued to slide from his sheath, wobbling it back and forth to make it that much more tempting.

"You know you're not going to get it out of your slut-brain until you start sucking it," Simba said. "So get on your knees..."

There wasn't even a hint of hesitation. No sooner had Simba said it than Sarakiba dropped down to the ground, sliding between the prince's legs, his nose nudging against golden, fuzzy balls, his mouth opening up and displaying his tongue.

It was the most intoxicating feeling that the prince had ever felt, and he wasn't about to stop now. He grabbed the wanton one by the back of his head, and jammed his cock right down Sarakiba's throat.

The End