Mufasa's Duty

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Hello againnn!

I have another short story for you... of a subject very close to my heart - the subject being little cub Simba and his father Mufasa. For me, there is just not enough Simba x Mufasa (although I am aware of possible logistic [size] issues!), so I always wanted to contribute to that particular body of work as this father/son incest stuff is something I am rather keen on. And you all know how big into cub Simba I am by now, so yeah, writing this was a no-brainer! Hope you like! ^^Note: This story follows on from 'Sarabi's Tradition,' but is only a sequel in spirit... the proper sequel for that is in the pipeline, and it will probably wrap up my brightly-coloured incest series! (I've got some TLK: Cub Tales to write!)Note 2: Apologies for any wee mistakes here with this one... I promise to go over it with a fine tooth-comb when I get the chance - I was in a bit of a rush and I just had to get this story off my writing list for now! ^^Note 3: There will be arts that are inspired by this story coming very soon -- arggh I'm sooo looking forward to that -- so keep an eye out!

Goooo Simba x Mufasa smutttt! Comments are below - let yourself be known if you share my love of Simba/Mufasa kinkkkz! <3


It was a view that Simba would never grow tired of - the ageless Pridelands, stretched so majestically before his young eyes - from the very top of Pride Rock to the furthest edge of his vision. And it was quiet - still slumbering under the pale blue light of dawn. The golden cub yawned dramatically.

"Still tired son?" chuckled the imposing figure that came up and sat alongside him. Simba smiled. It was King Mufasa - his father, and ruler of all lands that could be seen.

"No way Dad! I'm not... tired... at all..." Simba protested, trying and failing to stifle another yawn.

The great lion's heart swelled with pride as he too marvelled at his domain.

"Our kingdom, son... your kingdom. You don't see beauty like this very often."

He sighed contentedly.

"It's worth getting up early for, wouldn't you say..? Simba..?"

The cub-prince had already keeled over and fallen back to sleep. His little chest and tummy heaved in and out and cute snores softly sounded from his muzzle. He mewed suddenly and his legs kicked as he chased some wild creature of his dreamworld. Mufasa grinned, but was quickly called into action, realising that Simba's spasming limbs were nudging him perilously close to the end of the ridge. He gently gripped the scruff of the cub's neck and carried him back to a safer distance, stumbling as the little golden legs continued to kick out.

"Nnnng!" cried the great lion, crumpling up and dropping his son to the ground.

"Huh? W-what happened?" Simba groaned, awake and rubbing his eyes. When the world came into focus again, he saw his father sat on his haunches, gasping and rubbing furiously between his legs.

"Dad? What's going on?" he asked.

"It's okay... your paws just... caught my... bits a bit, that's all. You have a strong kick on you!"

"Gee... I'm sorry Dad.. I didn't mean to--"

Mufasa straightened up gingerly and drew in a deep breath.

"It's not your fault son - don't be silly."

The cub was relieved, but found his eyes wandering to his father's groin. He was a little disappointed that the chunky adult-fore-legs were obscuring the view. Mufasa felt his son's curious gaze, and he couldn't stop sinful thoughts from filling his mind. He couldn't ignore the perfect opportunity had come his way.

"Believe it or not, you came from these Simba," he said with a sly grin, moving the offending fore-limb to offer his son a full view of his privates.


Simba wasn't sure he should be looking - or even if he was allowed to look - but he did all the same - tilting his head, entranced by his father's groin. He had never noticed his father's size down there before - never even paid the area any attention - but now it made his body feel strange... but nicely strange... the kind of strange that might well lead to something pleasurable (or at least, that was his recent experience).

"These dangling things here are the key to our kingdom," Mufasa said, proudly gesturing towards his ball-sack. "Our past... our future... all contained within. And within yours too!"

The golden cub pawed in suspicion at his own little cubby testicles. "I... don't get it..?"

Mufasa chuckled heartily.

"It's okay son - there is plenty of time for you to understand."

"C-Can I touch them?" Simba asked suddenly, almost without thinking.

Mufasa was glad to oblige the curious cub. He stepped forward until he stood over the youngster, and spread his hind-legs a little wider, until his royal orbs hung right before Simba's nose.

"Go ahead!"

Before he could even snuffle, a powerful musk had overwhelmed the cub and made his head swim. The sheer strength of the masculine scent made his heart pound, and he was drawn in still closer to touch the balls with his nose. They were like hanging golden boulders, rising and falling slightly in time with his father's breathing... just begging to be tongue-tasted... but Simba restrained himself, and settled for inhaling deeply the dizzying royal aroma.

"Wow, they're heavy!" he cried - almost giddy with the thick male essence in the air - whilst trying lifting the balls up with his muzzle. "And really soft!"

His eye then wandered beyond them and landed on the great thick sheath.

"T-That's so huge!" He gasped, looking down at his own miniature version.

"Yours will be the same one day," smiled the king.

The cub compared both sheathes again and snorted disbelievingly.

"Well, now that you have seen mine Simba, I would like to quickly check yours... that is - if you don't mind."

"My sheath thingy? Um... o-okay Dad... w-whatever you say..." the boy stammered, suddenly feeling very infantile again, harking back to memories of his baby-cub-hood. In those days such parental inspections were frequent and trivial, and a baby Simba thought nothing strange or embarrassing about them at all. But now that he was a little older...

"Lie on your back for me Simba," Mufasa said suddenly, catching the daydreaming cub off-guard. Even in gentle request his father's deep voice was commanding, and it was ingrained already in Simba to do exactly as it told him, so he did... with another shiver.

Mufasa looked his son up and down in the soft light of the dawn. To his mind, the boy was perfection: His eyes were fiery and spiritful, his smile wonderfully cheeky, his heart full with love... his soul alive with youthful vigour. Every detail of his little growing body was perfectly realised in this moment - from the way the waking sun glinted off his beautiful coat - splendid gold that stretched over burgeoning adolescent muscles, foretelling of their great power in the future... to the cute dangling fore-paws that gave him a distinct air of naivety - of innocence... Mufasa's heart was filled with pride again, as he drank in the beauty of the fruit of his loins.

"Um... Dad... w-what are you doing?" Simba asked, pulling a face.

Mufasa blinked out of his trance.

"I was... j-just thinking... about what a great lion you'll grow up to be."

"You... you really think so?"

The youngster's tail flicked of his own accord, and he suddenly felt it just a little less strange that he was so posed in front of his father.

"I'm certain of it."

Mufasa leaned his mighty head in and nuzzled his boy with a gentleness that belied his size, and Simba returned the favour emphatically.

"So... how about a little fun, hmm?" the big lion whispered into the cub's little ear.

"Yeah! Fun sounds fun!" Answered his eager, raspy little voice.

Simba looked on as the great head of his father slowly disappeared down his cubby body. The adult's thick mane and snuffling nose tickled him as they traced their way down his chest and over his tummy. Simba shivered as he came to realise just what his father meant by 'fun.' He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations of touch and warmth, and the strong, calming, ear-filling, breathy sounds from the mighty lion to whom he submitted his young vulnerable body. Mufasa slowly ran his nose over and along his boy's torso, taking the time to enjoy the sweet youthful scent of his fur, its unfathomable softness against his skin, and the distant tingle that it evoked within him. He paused and smiled into Simba's eyes, noticing the boy's chest starting to rise and fall more quickly.

"Getting a little excited son?" the adult lion winked.

The golden cub mumbled something inaudible and stretched out his little body. Mufasa placed his giant paw upon the boy's young sheath, and felt the already-hard cocklet pulsing faintly beneath the fur sleeve. Simba lurched at the firm, yet subtle touch, his mouth agape, searching for sound in his throat but finding none. The paw was so gentle, so strong. Simba felt safe enveloped within it - safe from all the world, invincible in his father's massive shadow.

"Oh dear, you're all stiff," Mufasa smiled playfully, breaking the cub's train of thought. "I think I should fix that for you... seeing as though I'm already down here."

He gently nipped the boy's sheath between two thick paw-toes, and stroked slowly up, but pulled back down more forcefully. Barely two strokes later, the tip of Simba's cubby peen poked from cover.

"Mmm... Dad...yeahhh..." the boy sighed as a sliver of rich pink became visible through his half-closed eyes.

"Well... what do we have here?"

Mufasa maintained the same pressure to the sheath, beaming as his son's little pink penis rose completely from its confines and shone against the cream fur of his tummy. The father admired its bobbing beauty, the gleaming flesh and the wonderful neatness of its form, from base to tapered tip. He licked his lips as if it were a particularly juicy little portion of meat.

Simba felt the air rush his sensitive flesh, and felt too his father's eyes gazing so attentively at his boy-bits. He was blushing hard, but he still felt strangely safe with his protector as close as this. There was conflict in his young mind, but his father's enshrouding musk, his gentle expression and his serene aura helped to settle him and his fears, and he began to relax. Mufasa gently pulled the boy's hind-legs apart, until his private area was not-so private anymore. Simba shivered at his now-full exposure, his face still burning. Giving another soothing smile, the father rubbed his boy's tummy as he dropped down to delicately taste his perfectly smooth inner thigh, enjoying the fineness of his pelt and every subtle curve and cave of his young groin, caressing the bulges of the adolescent muscles that twitched under his strong lapping tongue.

"Ohh... Dad... t-that's... so g-good!" the boy groaned, the delightful attention gradually chasing off any remaining inhibitions.

Mufasa traced all the way down the limb to the little hind-paw, and lapped at the boy's spongy pads and at the even finer fur between them. Simba sighed deeply. His breaths slowed and his body plunged into relaxation - thoughts fled his brain and tension fled his muscles. The father attended just as studiously to the other paw, tickling and cleaning every nook and crevice with his large flat tongue - exploring the soft, firm pads, the velvet paw fur and the hard cub claws, before moving back up the limb towards the groin again.

"Ohh... yeahhh..."

As the wandering tongue would flick close to his private area, the cub would feel familiar magic tingles blooming in his tummy. His cocklet responded to the tease by bobbing more frantically - yearning for some attention of its own, and already pushing out little shimmering beads of pre-cum. Mufasa smiled as he noticed the little tool's pleaful signal, but he was in no kind of rush. He was too busy tracing every cute muscular bump and furrow in the fleecy terrain of his boy's splayed body. By now Simba was almost so relaxed as to be asleep again - only the growing tingle and his hyper-reactive skin kept him conscious behind his tightly shut eyes. It was a strange kind of relaxation-on-the-edge - a relaxation that would be shattered should the right buttons be pressed. And the experienced Mufasa was certainly pushing the right buttons.

"Mmm... nnng... n-nice..."

After charting all of his son's fur, Mufasa returned to the inner thighs from the beginning of his journey. As if flipped by a switch, Simba's breath shortened again as the adult's focus fell back onto his erogenous zone. With quick kissing licks Mufasa migrated the short way his son's cute little orbs, and lapped away on them, lifting them with each stroke.

"Ohhh Dad... please... d-don't stop!" Simba groaned as a violent shudder sprang upon him. Every stroke of his father's enveloping tongue focused a growing pressure within his young testes, and without warning the odd tingle would flash up to his stiff-standing, still-leaking cocklet, making it twitch wildly for the same caress.

Mufasa took the tautening golden orbs into his maw, and skilfully kneaded them with his tongue. Simba arched his back and thrust forward his groin with a long, sweet whimper. Somewhere amongst the carnal sensations there was a strange thrill about giving up his most delicate organs to the massive jaws of an adult lion - albeit his father. But Mufasa knew much about testicular fragility, and was as gentle as could be, offering only the harmless warmth and moisture of his muzzle and the continued stimulus of his busy licking. His skill was so that he kept the cub's ensnared body bewildered, so that it could not grow used to any one feeling - alternating as he was between lapping, flicking a little, sucking a little, and tugging a little, closing his own eyes to concentrate on his ball-teasing repertoire while curbing his natural power.

"Ahhh - nnnng!"

Mufasa rapidly rubbed the bottom of the tiny balls with his tongue, and Simba groaned as his body locked mid-struggle. Mufasa felt the boy's testes tighten and try to pull themselves from his muzzle, even though his hips still thrust forward. He yelped as his untouched cocklet spurted streams of young cum across his tummy and chest. Mufasa released the balls from his maw and chuckled at Simba's blissful grin.

"Already?" the king said softly. "Well, it seems someone was all worked up..." He watched in delight as the dripping cub-semen puddled on the floor. "...And I didn't even have to touch it!"

He reached out a congratulatory paw and rubbed his boy's chest, and Simba placed his own tiny paws on top, squirming and giggling as the last drops of seed spilled from the tip and trickled down his shaft.

"Good boy! That's quite an amount you've made there!"

"Sorry, Dad... it was j-just... all too much..."

"That's okay son," Mufasa replied. "Your dad is good at these kind of things!"

The sweet, youthful scent of cub-cum grew strong in the air, causing a twinge in Mufasa's sheath. "Would you like to go again?" he said. "That is... if you think you could manage it..."

Simba's heart leapt. "Oh can I? Pleeease?!"

The need in the cub's voice surprised Mufasa. He felt dutified to satisfy his boy, so he took the now-flaccid pink cocklet in his great paw - his first contact with the freshly orgasm-tenderised flesh - and stood it so that it pointed again at his mighty maw. It took three expertly-placed tongue flicks before the cubby peen swelled in his grip, instantly returning to full size and hardness, all the way from tip to base.


"Looks like we are right back in business!" chuckled Mufasa. He plunged upon the cub-cock, trapping it in his lips again, sucking hard and fast with precious little subtlety this time around.

"Ah! Ah! N-Nnng!"

Simba was seizing again immediately as the tingling feelings regrouped and raided his body. He whined pitifully as his father's tongue came into its own again - subtly grazing against the most sensitive parts of his engulfed peen, stealing away Simba's breath as it did. The tension in his little abdomen grew, and he was impelled suddenly to lurch forward to try and push his father's muzzle away. But Mufasa held firm, suckling with all his considerable strength, milking his son - determined to take him to the brink as quickly as he could.

"I... can...I ca... pl..."

"Shh son, it's okay. I've got you."

Mufasa had brought the boy right back to that brink within moments, and there he stopped his sucking and turned to ever-so-slowly massaging the pulsing cocklet with his tongue, tasting the sweet drops of the new pre-cum that drooled freely from its tip. Simba squirmed and groaned more ardently...

"Dad - I'm gonna... g-gonna..."

"No, don't worry... you won't cum yet," Mufasa smiled. The cub fell back as his desperate peen was suddenly abandoned, and Mufasa watched his boy's peen twitch around for the last bit of stimulation to give it its final relief. The familiar tingle slowly retreated from his cocklet and balls and hid somewhere deep in his tummy. Soon enough the little peen gave up, fell still and Simba calmed a little. The king took the cue and started again - licking hungrily up the tender shaft, kneading the needy orbs with a paw. The tingle returned to Simba almost immediately, and fluxes of pleasure rushed up and down the cub's body and arrested all his movements as they went. He was finding it increasingly difficult to control his spasming limbs, or his voice, or slow the irresistible journey to his second orgasm. And Mufasa could read these signs perfectly.

"Nnng... p-please... let me... I need to..."

"Hmm, on the edge again?" Mufasa smiled. "You really must be horny today! Okay... I'll stop teasing."

Simba gasped as the adult's soft lips met his desperate peen once again and squeezed it. Held in place inside the moist muzzle, the prince's member was at the mercy of the king's tongue, which ruthlessly set about the sensitive tip, flicking and brushing, in a wild flurry of motion, even trying to force itself into the most sensitive tiny slit from where pre-fluids were freely drooling.

"Nnng... i-it's... nnng... s-so..."

Simba couldn't form the words - he couldn't form anything beyond pitiful squeaks and baby whimpers. Convulsions racked his body, and he tried to free his cocklet again from his father's muzzle, but like before it was locked in too tightly. His trembling body now fought of its own accord, trying to escape the stimulus, unable to contain the pleasure and registering it as pain. Mufasa felt the peen pulse in the grip of his lips, so he released it into his waiting paw. He slapped the twitching cub-cock against his tongue and with his free paw lined up the boy's winking tail-hole, and plunged a digit into it. Simba squealed and lurched at the sudden invasion, all of his body tensing then yielding. A great pressure moved around inside him, rushing from his balls along his pulsing member to its very tip...

"That's it, Simba, cum for daddy!"

"Nnnng... nnnh..!"

The little pink peen jerked powerfully in the adult's paw, and a rope of semen shot out from the tip, and another, and another, painting the boy's convulsing body with fresh layers of seed.

"Good boy!" cooed Mufasa, holding him down until the stream slowed and the throes of this latest orgasm died away. Simba's head fell back, panting with exhaustion as the power of his limbs returned to him, and the great paw that held him steady finally released his drained cocklet to flop lazily against his tummy. Mufasa licked the sweet sticky boy-fluid from between his paw-pads. The taste was so very good.

"Now, that might be enough cum for what I have in mind... but then again... I'd like to try for a little more - just to be safe?"

With a playful smile he dove back into Simba's groin, not waiting for a reply. Again he woke Simba's drooping cub-peen with a mere three strokes of his expert tongue.

"Nnnh... Dad..." Simba groaned, too enswathed in the heady haze of his after-glow to protest.

Mufasa wasted no time, and worked at full pace, licking and pawing his son's rejuvenated cocklet. Simba was dragged from his lethargy to frantic action as anguished pleasure racked his body. The father was intrigued to know just how quickly his son could recover - and exactly how much young cream was left within him. So he mustered all of his mastery, paw-pumping the slimed shaft and sucking at the golden testes like a lion possessed. The stimulation was so constant and Simba was so pained and fatigued from his previous climaxes that he was soon at the point of no return again. His stamina was no match for his father's technique, and he battled to hold onto his senses and his consciousness. The building pressure in his balls and penis and abdomen, and the blazing nerve endings in every inch of his skin overwhelmed him. His legs kicked and his body thrashed. He squealed and mewled as his hips bucked furiously, searching for more titillation, until he was rutting his own father's paw. Simba's conscious mind was fading, but still he thrust again and again, pumping.his little cocklet into his father's tickling grasp.


"It's okay Simba, it's okay. Stay with me. Let me see you cum one last time... That's it! That's my boy! Ride it out son, don't fight it!"


Another great thrust, another desperate wail... then a huge seizure - stronger than any that had come before - ravished the helpless boy, all his muscles tensing as one. His proud peen desperately pumped and pumped, but nothing came. Still the young hips bucked, the cubby muscles bulged, yet his father had already milked him dry. Mufasa smiled as he watched his son writhe around, his staring eyes lost in another blissful world... his hips still humping the air, his balls so tight, his cocklet madly twitching. After more moments of gasping, and locking, and thrusting, the spasms lessened in power, and again Simba was left exhausted.

"Looks like we've emptied your little balls... that's okay," Mufasa winked.

While the boy recovered, Mufasa gathered the impressive cum floor-puddles in his paw and pressed it close to his nose. The scent of it up close was all the more wonderful - so virile and youthful. The father couldn't resist tasting his son's seed again, and he took a sticky gob of it to his tongue, very slowly swallowing to savour its sweet saltiness.

"You taste wonderful son," he grinned.

Simba managed a weak smile back.

"With your royal seed, you will make a fine king. And you will have a fine son or daughter of your own some day."

He tickled Simba's paws playfully.

"D-Dad... hey! Stop!" the cub giggled, seemingly more awake again. The tenderness of his little penis became suddenly apparent to him as he regained his awareness. "I don't think I can go again, Dad... What are we gonna do now?"

Mufasa's face became more serious. He sat and started squishing around the cub-cum that was still on his paws, as if trying to think of the right words for a moment that he had waited a good while for.

"Simba... there... is a reason I wanted to spend some extra time with you," he finally said.

"T-There is?"

"Yes, son. Do you remember when your mother spoke to you about 'tradition?'

Simba gasped - he would never forget! It was the day his mother gave him his very first experience of an orgasm - all in the name of this 'tradition.'

"Mom said there was a King's thingy," he recited. "Where the king 'lays down the law' to all the males in the pride..?"

"That's right son. Once a generation, the king must dominate his pride. That means all of the lions of the pride... and all of the lion-cubs deemed old enough - including the prince. My father did the same to me... and his father the same to him... and this has happened since the time of our Ancestors."

"Whoa," Simba gasped, propping himself up with his fore-paws. "But what does 'dominate' mean, Dad?"

Mufasa found himself searching once again for a tactful answer.

"Well... Simba... to dominate another lion is to... is to treat him like a lioness," he stammered. "To climb onto his back, as if he was a female... and..."

"You wanna put your thingy in me?!"

"Yes!" Mufasa gasped. "How did you know-?"

Simba was wide awake now and trembling as he looked between his fathers muscular legs to the intimidatingly-sized collection of tools there. Tears welled in his eyes.

"B-But do... do you have to..?"

Mufasa stroked his youthful mane to try and reassure him.

"We must do this son. Tradition is the duty of the king to uphold - it is the way it has always been. Come now, let's get this over with."

With a firm paw he turned the boy onto his front, meeting only a little resistance. A tear spilled down Simba's cheek as he pressed his face to the dust.

"I will be as gentle as I can," Mufasa said calmly, lifting up his son's hips to raise his rump. He loaded one paw-toe with the cub-cum he still had palmed, before gently lifting his son's tail to reveal his quivering virgin hole. For a moment he admired its perfect form and imagined its tightness, and then he circled the pink ring with his digit, pushing a little and smearing the inner walls with semen. Simba gasped at his father's touch on his most sensitive flesh, and his little orbs and sheath stirred in spite of the fear that had hold of him. He looked desperately back at his father, pleading with his big-eyed gaze, flattening his ears against his skull. A mournful whimper escaped him.

"Shh, son," Mufasa said softly. "It will be all done before you know it, I promise."

The great lion sat back on his haunches and pawed the magic three times at his impressive shaft, and his rosy tip came into view above the fur sleeve, and it rose and rose until the full throbbing red flesh bobbed threateningly. Mufasa slicked it with the remaining boy-cum on his paw, shuddering as he stroked himself to supreme readiness. Simba yelped, catching a glance over his shoulder at the monster between his father's legs.

"I-I don't think it will f-fit in me..." he stammered. By now he was crying freely.

"It will son. You must trust me."

Simba realised he was left with little choice. And he would rather his father use him like a lioness than anybody else. Still, his heart sank to the floor.

"O-okay, I'll... try," he sniffed.

"That's my boy. I love you so much."

Both took a deep breath. Simba braced himself and gulped, screwing his eyes tight as his father strode forward. Daring again to peek the youngster saw how the great lion towered over him, and gasped when his large head leaned over his little shoulder. He glanced to see his father's focused, straight-ahead stare, and could hear his breath quickening, and a husky purring from deep in his throat. Mufasa squatted and lined up his cream-laden cock with his boy's taut, cream-laden hole. His hard tip found the winking pucker, and he gasped at its heat as he touched it. Carefully he pushed with his hips. The tip met some resistance, but eventually disappeared into Simba's tight virgin ass, and the thick shaft followed, stretching the boy to its girth as it went. Simba wailed as the invading tool powered through his first defense and began to forge its path beyond.

"Aiiiee! D-Dad..! Nnnh..!"

Mufasa nuzzled his son and licked his ear - something that the boy always liked.

"Okay... I'll stop for a second."

Mufasa mustered his self-control and halted the push with barely a third of him inside, waiting for his boy to adjust to the unnatural size. But that one-third was enough to drive him crazy - and he could feel the feral passion threatening to flow within and wrestle all fatherly control from him. Clenching his teeth he fought the urge to pound the boy-pussy as he so often would a lioness-pussy. He looked at his squeaking, writhing boy, trying to find sympathy to help the conflict in his head... but the thought of being inside his tight little body filled him with even more lust, so much so that he just had to resume mating him. With even more care than before, he pushed deeper, groaning with relief as his desperate member was finally allowed to continue its journey. Simba squealed again, thrashing his head from side to side and gripping the dirt beneath his paws.

"Dad... please..." he sobbed. "It really hurts..."

"I'm sorry Simba, this must be done. Please try to relax, it will make things easier for you."

"I'm... I'm trying Dad... b-but it hurts..."

He yelped again, feeling his little body bulge and strain around his father's entire shaft as he continued to be slowly filled, until the thick rod was buried to the hilt in his tender young rear.

"G-good, nnng, boy!" Mufasa groaned. Every rippled wall crushed every inch of his cock as he held it in place, yet he still fought off instinct and took as much time as he could for the boy.

"Nnng, son, you are... so hot... so tight..." he growled as he drew back his tool, his barbs tearing along the delicate passage and dragging the boy's stretched pucker out with it.

"Aghhh! Nnnh... please Dad... t-take it out!" Simba whimpered, as searing shots of pain fired each tug of his flesh.

"Nnng, Simba... be a big brave boy for me," the king gasped.

He was succumbing to the stimulation that the boy's tight hole was giving to his cock in abundance. As agonising as the pleasure was, he still manage to retain a certain control, steadily pushing in and steadily pulling out, trying to find a rhythm that would allow Simba to get used to him. But Simba still squirmed and whimpered and wailed whatever the speed, and coping with the constancy of the pain was sapping what little remained of his waning post-orgasm energy. Mufasa could see that the cub was flagging, and in this position his little hind-legs were trembling and buckling with every faintest motion, so in a rare moment of clarity he made a decision, and pulled out his throbbing cock with a wet slurp. Simba gasped and felt the air rush to his gaping hole, but had no time to further react as his father turned him around so that he was laying on his back again, taking the weight off his little limbs. The few moments denied of stimulation felt like a lifetime for Mufasa and his needy tool, and the self-control that had existed before suddenly was no more. He lifted up Simba's hind-legs and the violated boy-hole greeted him again and bode him in. This time without the previous thought or care he buried his cock deep into his son's welcoming ass. With his father's hot breath in his face, Simba yelped and squealed as the tool cleaved more angrily down his velveteen passage, ripping and tugging and bulging and tearing as it went, stretching beyond nature and reaching deeper than it had before. He opened his mouth to cry again, but it was smothered by his father's muzzle, and a great tongue which forced down his throat. After a long, deep kiss, Mufasa released the boy's maw and grunted into his ear:

"I've never wanted to hurt you Simba, but I've always wanted you. I've waited for this... the day when I would be deep inside of you... and your little body would be wrapped... nnng... so tightly around me."

He growled into Simba's sobbing face as his powerful hips bucked freely with the instinctive force he had withheld so valiantly for so long. The adult's muscular thighs bulged as he pumped, pounding the helpless cub deeper and deeper, every previously unexplored inch stirred fresh agony for the boy, and more of that agonising pleasure for the frenzied father. The mighty rod did not slow and would not offer the boy rest. It's girth bulged his passage and rubbed along the nub of his young prostrate as it pumped back an forth. Lost in an ocean of pain was the slightest teasing ripple of titillation for Simba, the faintest tingle in the deepest depths of hurt, but it was enough for his little cub peen to respond to - which it did by rising warily out of his sheath.

"Dad...I... ahh! It's too big...too... fast!" He cried again, in the rare moments between desperate pants and mewls where he found his proper voice and could form words.

But Mufasa was away in another world - a world of ancient raging passion, and unfathomable heat and snugness - where every thought in his mind directed his hips to thrust without mercy into his little boy's defiled hole. He was propped on his fore-paws, snarling over Simba, nearly nose to nose and looking almost straight into his son's soul. The cub saw his father's wild eyes through his tears and barely recognised him.

"P-please... it hurts so much..!" he pleaded again.

With the last of his strength Simba struggled again, unable to handle much more pain...

"Ohhh... nnng..!" he mewled suddenly. His body stiffened and his scrambling spread legs locked. That distant tingle had spread to his balls and now found his cubby peen, which twitched and pumped as he dry-orgasmed again. For a few fleeting moments waves of pleasure doused the pains of his father's plundering cock.

Mufasa groaned as he felt the orgasming boy squeeze his meat even more tightly, before releasing and then clutching like a vise again. With each contraction the cub's muscles gripped and rubbed and worked his desperate flesh, until an irresistible pressure built in his large swinging balls and across his pelvis. The hanging orbs tightened and released their carry to course up his pulsing shaft.

"Nnnng, Simba, you're going to make me cum!" he growled.

He pulled back, and for the final time thrust with all his might inside his boy's abused hole, fighting past the cub's still-clenching walls until his large balls slapped against him. Simba was still riding out his own climax, but found breath enough to yelp as his father remained steadfastly deep within his broken body. Mufasa threw his head back and roared, a lusty cry that echoed off the rocks and scattered birds from their trees. His great penis jerked and pumped, and rope after thick rope of royal seed shot out and coated the the child's insides.

"Nnng... yes! Nnnh..!" he growled, his weakening hips thrusting bravely on to keep teasing out the cum that filled his son's bowels.

Simba felt his father's torrent swilling around inside him, the strange feeling coming to his notice as his own orgasm died away. He felt his father licking tears from his face - and noticed a gentle gaze return to the great lion's eyes, as if the brutish, feral sex-beast that had suddenly possessed him had just as suddenly disappeared.

"D-dad?" he whimpered, confused and exhausted.

"I'm so sorry son. I... I couldn't stop myself."

He embraced the still-panting cub, whose eyes were growing heavy, and heavier still as his father's great body warmed him, and as a great softening cock still warmed the inside of him. Mufasa nuzzled him softly. Panting, he slowly withdrew his drooping penis from the narrowing passage, and a gush of his seed followed it out of the boy's gape and pooled on the ground. Simba gasped at the sudden release of pressure, and felt a strange emptiness as his racked insides almost sighed in relief. Mufasa licked Simba's muzzle again.

"It's over now son... you did so well. I'm so proud of you."

The cub forced a weak smile again, looking at his father's shining eyes before his own started to close. "Dad?"

Mufasa climbed off the boy and fell on his side next to him, clearly tired himself. "Yes, son?"

"I'm kinda sleepy - could I lay with you?"

Mufasa smiled. "Of course you can..."

With the greatest ease he picked the faint cub off his back and placed his boy alongside his large tummy. Simba felt the soft fur and immediately buried himself into it, breathing long and deep,almost forgetting his pains and woes with its mere silky touch.

"Love you Dad," he whispered, closing his eyes.

The little cubby rump was pointing up at Mufasa's face, so he gently held it with both paws and leaned his muzzle to the sore pucker.

"I love you too son."

Delicately, he pressed his nose in and lapped, soothing the weary flesh as the gape shrank. Simba gasped and squirmed one last time at the healing warmth of the tongue on his tail-hole, before sleep finally took him.


"I like spending time with you, Dad..." Simba smiled, some hours later, as the two were enjoying a quiet evening patrol together.

"I feel the same way," winked the king, before scanning the distance in the dying light.

"...But I am kinda sore... and stiff... and still kinda tired..."

Mufasa broke his watch to lick the limping golden cub on his baby-mane.

"I know you are son, but trust me - this little walk will have helped you recover. Don't worry, we're heading home now - and you can get some more slee--"

Something on the horizon distracted him. On the far side of the plains he saw the shape of a lion - by the size of it, almost certainly an adult male. A growl rumbled from deep in his throat - such an unexplained presence was unusual, and could easily spell danger for the pride.

"Dad? What's up?"

Mufasa didn't answer - the figure was moving. He followed it across the red-dusk vista as it headed towards the hyena territories of the east. Then more shapes appeared - strange little bouncing forms - that followed closely behind.

"Cubs!" gasped the King. "Come Simba - I think I see some friends of yours - and they could be in trouble..."

Lion King Cub Tales: Book One - Meo's Story

Meo groaned as he stumbled across the Pridelands. He was a young leopard cub adrift in a vast land, a desolate figure covered in red dust, and his quarry - a great hunk of zebra leg - was covered likewise, its distinct black and white pattern...

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Scar's Game

"_Scar_? Are you alright?" Scar dragged himself into the royal den of Pride Rock. There was none of his usual saunter, no immutable smirk. Instead his face contorted with agony, and his hind-leg dangled limp behind. "I tried to fight them off, but...

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Sarabi's Tradition

The caves were quiet, and a golden lion cub pranced along the tracks connecting them, stopping every now and then to poke his head into a chamber. They all seemed to be empty, which was strange indeed. The usually calm savannah sky looked dark and...

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