Visions of things to come
A minute ago It happens so fast. One second, Aran is ambling towards the watering hole for a drink. The next second, the gazelle is ambushed by a gigantic male lion - easily the largest he's ever seen. The lion leaps straight at him. After a moment's hesitation, Aran sprints for safety, but it's already too late. He doesn't make it three steps before the lions crashes down on him. Aran lands on his back, his whole body covered by the lion's chest, pinning him to the ground. He tries to wriggle himself free, but to no effect. Aran involuntarily lets out a whine of fear and frustration, knowing what's coming. * * *
A month ago "I see it almost every night -- I'm walking along on a path near the village. Without warning, a huge lion jumps out at me. He catches me, pins me, and latches his jaws onto me so I can't breath. It's never exactly the same twice -- sometimes he pins me down with his body, other times he spears me with his claws; sometimes he pins me face-down and bites into the back of my neck, and sometimes he pins me face-up and bites into the front. But the ending is always the same - everything goes black." "How long have you been having these visions?" "Several weeks now." "Hmmmmm...." The wizened old porcupine in front of him looks like he is deep in thought. He closes his eyes, hiding them behind a dense thicket of graying quills. "What does it mean?" "You're not the first person from this village to have visions, Aran. Others have had them too." Aran knows this only too well, remembering with a fresh stab of grief how his mother had had visions before she had died. Before she'd been killed, that is. Officially, it is illegal for sentient predators to eat sentient prey animals, but that doesn't stop it from happening. Aran's mother had been out after dark searching for a lost child. A hunting party of atavistic lions had spotted the search party, and run them down. His mother, and two other gazelles from the village were caught and eaten. But in the days and weeks leading up that fatal night, his mother had been plagued by visions of her final moments. The wise man sees the stricken look on Aran's face. "I'm not talking about your mother." This comment catches Aran off-guard. "Huh?" "You and your mother are not the only ones who have had visions. Others have too. You probably didn't know that, did you? It's not something we talk about." "Did they all die the same way as in their visions?" "Not all of them died. In fact, some of them had very happy visions - visions of meeting a true love or of a child's birth. What makes yours different from the others is that they have the same visions, each time, whereas you you something slightly different each time. What this suggests to me is that your future isn't set in stone. You have the opportunity to change your fate, Aran. I think you should make the most of it." * * *
A week ago "Kiril, can I ask you a question?", Aran asks, summoning up his courage. "Sure, fire away." "Have you ever eaten an anthro before?" The smile on Kiril's face immediately disappears, replaced with an ashen look. "I've told you before - I don't want to talk about that." Kiril is an adolescent lion. He and Aran have been friends since childhood, despite the fact that society generally frowns upon predator/prey friendships. "I know, I know. But it's... very important to me." "Why?" Aran describes his visions to Kiril, and relates his conversation with the porcupine. "Oh, wow. I.... I don't know what to say", Kiril splutters, once Aran finishes. "Is it going to hurt?", Aran asks, self-consciously. Kiril looks around nervously. They're well out of ear-shot of anyone else. "I'm not exactly an expert - I've only eaten three or four anthros." "Three or four!" "Ssshhhh! Keep your voice down", Kiril shushes him. "Sorry. You implied that you had eaten someone, but I didn't realize it was that many." "My uncle and I have done it a few times. Most of the time, we come back empty handed. But when we do catch someone..." the lion trails off, looking quite embarrassed. "Please, go on. I need to know." "It's exhilarating. The thrill of the hunt is an amazing rush. And it's even better when you finally catch something - as good as sex, even. Kiril notices the look of horror on his friend's face. "Uh, you asked if it would hurt," he stammers on. "I'm not sure. When I go in for the kill, I usually go for the throat and suffocate them. It's clean and simple. They struggle a bit, and then after a few minutes, they go to sleep. Once a lion catches someone your size, there's not really a whole lot you can do." Now Aran looks truly despondent. * * *
The present Aran is lying on his back, with the lion's chest covering his whole body. Aran is wriggling to free himself, but to no avail. He involuntarily lets out a whine of fear and frustration, knowing what's coming. The lion slides down, bends his neck down, and takes Aran's nose and muzzle into his own muzzle. He bites down, just firmly enough to keep Aran's head immobile, cutting off the gazelle's air. Aran writhes, trying in vain to break loose the feline's iron grip. The lion's nose and teeth, almost directly in front of his eyes, loom very large. Above those, Aran can see the lion staring directly into his eyes, and he begins to panic. He starts writhing again with renewed strength. He flails as much as he can, trying desperately to get away. The lion responds by clenching down harder on his muzzle, further immobilizing him, and then reaches up and begins stroking Aran's head. Gently, almost lovingly, he runs his huge paw through Aran's head fur. The stroking calms the gazelle, whose lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. Aran thinks quickly, trying to figure out a way out of this predicament. That's when he notices the lion's engorged cock poking into his thigh. The thrill of the hunt must have been as arousing for him as it was for Kiril. A novel idea dawns on Aran. He reaches a paw down, grips the lion's member, and begins stroking it. The lion's member twitches in response, and Aran feels the warmth of the lion's precum coating his paw and thigh. "MMmmmm..." the lion grumbles around his mouthful of gazelle. Aran is desperate now. His lungs are on fire, and he's seeing in tunnel vision. He continues stroking with both paws, desperately hoping the lion will release him. Aran's efforts are having an effect - his paws and leg are now soaked with the lion's juices. Just as everything is fading to black, the lion releases his hold on Aran. Aran takes a deep breath, sucking in the sweetest air he's ever tasted, and then another, and another. The lion gives him a moment to catch his breath. "Why?", he wheezes. The lion doesn't respond. Instead, he lifts Aran up, and flips him so he's face-down to the ground, then pulls himself back up over the gazelle. The lion grips Aran's hips, and Aran feels a wet poke at his anus. "If you want to get out of here, you need to finish what you started," the lion whispers in Aran's ear. He follows up that comment by thrusting forcefully into the gazelle. Aran is stretched to his limit around the lion's girth, and his eyes water as the feline works his unprepared tail hole. He's been taken back there before, but usually with foreplay to loosen him up, and never by someone so large. The lion pulls out slowly, then thrusts in again, this time making sure every inch is buried inside the gazelle. The lion groans at how tight his prey is, as his steely cock rearranges the gazelle's insides. He tightens his grip on the gazelle's hips, and then thrusts harder. Over-and-over again he buries himself into the gazelle. At first, Aran was in acute pain from the size of the lion. After several minutes of being pounded, and the lion's rubbing against his prostate, Aran adjusts to the feline's large size. Soon he's pushing back, determined to help the lion get off in the most pleasurable way possible. That should help guarantee the lion doesn't get any second ideas about eating him. The lion is delighted to find the gazelle thrusting back at him. He continues pounding at the gazelle, and the gazelle flexes his vice-like tail hole, producing wonderful sensations along his member. A familiar pressure is building in his balls. He gives a final, brutal thrust, and bellows out a roar as he unloads into the gazelle. Surge after surge runs up from his balls, through his shaft, and spurts so satisfyingly into the gazelle. Aran feels the lion's cock twitch repeatedly, filling his bowels with nearly-scalding hot cum. The barbs on the lion cock bite into Aran's insides, causing him to whine. Soon the deluge turns into a trickle. The lion releases his iron hold on Aran's hips, and sags to the ground, his cock still firmly embedded deep within the gazelle. Again Aran finds himself pinned between the ground and the enormous feline's body. The lion once again bends his head towards Aran's muzzle. Aran freezes up, terrified that the lion has decided to renege on their little arrangement. Aran lets out a sigh of relief a moment later as the lion starts licking at Aran's muzzle. The earlier biting had left blood spots on Aran's tan muzzle fur, and the lion is cleaning him up in true kitty style. The rough tongue works its way back and forth over Aran's snout, scrubbing the droplets of blood out. After several minutes, the lion pulls his shrinking cock out of Aran with a slurp. Aran shudders in pain as the barbs on the leonine cock tear at his insides as it's withdrawn. He can feel warm cum running out his tail hole and down his thighs. The lion gets back up on all fours, and looks down at the ravished gazelle. "That was fun. We'll have to do this again sometime." With that, he lopes off back into the brush. * * *
Later that day Aran walks back to the village with as much grace as he can manage - which is not all that much, given the look and feel of him. He walks with an awkward bow-legged gait. The lion's odor and the smell of sex cling to him, and the lion's drying cum is stuck to the fur on his backside and legs. His muzzle fur is ruffled and covered in a sheen of dried lion saliva. His hips are bruised from the lion's unyielding grip, and his ass is killing him! He makes a beeline for his house on the outskirts of the village. On the way, though, Kiril spots him. "What the hell happened to you?"