A Gay Lion King Parody 21

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#21 of Gay Lion King Parody

Naka reaches Simba at the jungle, and a confrontation emerges.

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A Gay Lion King Parody

Chapter 21

Sponsored by Johnzaloog

By Draconicon

The sun rose on the desert, and in the process, also on the once-bodyguard of the prince of the Pride Lands. Naka groaned as he dragged himself from his shallow slumber, huffing to himself as he dragged his body out of the shade of the tree. The desert had yet to reach full warmth, and while he would have preferred to travel in the cool of night, he knew better; there were creatures in the dark, and he wasn't in a state where he could easily fight them. He needed to watch his stamina, his strength, and be ready to fight during the day, where he could at least see his enemies.

And without any clothes, either.

What little modesty that he'd still had was gone. The desert had stripped it away, and in the night, he had slept in the nude. Now he had nothing to hide his morning wood from the glaring sun, nor any eyes that might have been hidden from him in the desert sands. The lion stood with his hands at his side, flexing his fingers and curling his toes, waking the rest of his body from its slumber and doing his best to ignore the throbbing between his legs.

An unnatural throbbing it was, too, one that made him throb and bob more than he was used to. The feeling hit him hard, each beat of his heart running right through his shaft. Naka shook his head, clenching his fists several more times before pulling his hands back.

"It's nothing...it's nothing."

Or at least, he hoped it was nothing. The dream...

He remembered the dream quite clearly. Something had come to him in the night and pushed the idea of pleasure at him. Not just simple touch, but deep, hedonistic pleasure, the sort that he couldn't entirely resist as a concept. It felt surprisingly similar to what he'd felt around Pride Rock as Scar had claimed his pleasure among the other lions and the other species that had come before him: dark, intense, and more than slightly seductive.

And it sent shivers down his spine to think that something like that could be out here, too. It was bad enough to think of what the dark lion was doing to the Pride Lands. If he was reaching out here, somehow -

No. He'd come here to find Simba, and he would find Simba. If they could get the Prince back to Pride Rock, then there was a chance that they might be able to offer a different choice to the people of the kingdom. Simba had been seen as something of a lackluster prince, true, but he was a prince, someone that could stand for most of the kingdom, and if the patriarch of the hyenas kept his word -

Unlikely.

But if he did, then there was a chance that the hyenas would turn on Scar and side with Simba. If that happened, then there was a real chance. For war, yes, but also possibly of real peace. Peace that would do something good for the Pride Lands, rather than whatever the new king was trying to set up with his army of different species.

And it was an army, no matter how Scar was trying to hide it. Naka could see what was happening. Every single species, every tribe was offering people to serve under the king. They were said to be a token guard, a place of honor at Pride Rock, but Naka knew them for what they were: soldiers. They were going to be Scar's private army. The question was, what did he need them for when he had the hyenas?

There was no clear answer. Hopefully he could find Simba and bring him back before it got worse.

And maybe teach Simba a lesson for running away in the first place...

Naka's cock throbbed at that, and the lion male shivered as he felt the sheer need that burned in his balls, rising in bubbling waves from his sac to his shaft. His fingers twitched towards his cock again, and he barely managed to turn them away, pulling them back to his sides and keeping them there with a sheer effort of will.

No, no, no. He shook his head. Simba first. Satisfaction later.

He had a lot of desert to cross, and a great deal of dangers between him and his prince. One way or another, he would have to get there, and he wouldn't waste any more time thinking about his own needs.

Naka started walking. The sand crunched beneath his feet and the sun beat down at him, but he set himself against both as he had done any number of times before against his opponents. It was just one more battle.

#

Simba took a moment to realize that he was in his real body when the morning came, and he groaned under his breath as he realized just how sore he was. Not just from the constant 'play' that he had enjoyed with various individuals in the 'dream' the night before, but also from the complete lack of any actual sleep. His eyes were burning despite being closed all night, and he felt as if he'd actually run the full length of the desert. Twice.

"Ugh."

The only positive was that he hadn't, which meant that he wasn't waking up to being sweatier than usual. He was still a little on the damp side, but that only meant that he needed to take a dip in the river later rather than actually find the time to bathe properly. He stretched -

"Ow...ow..."

Only to realize that he was even stiffer than he'd have expected. Apparently, Shenzi knew what he was talking about.

Deciding against any further midnight ventures, Simba carefully rolled himself out of the sleeping bush that he had long-since converted to a bed, pushing the leaves and branches out of the way and slowly getting to his feet. His legs wobbled and everything from his neck down complained of any weight that it had to bear, but his body did eventually obey. Not happily, but it obeyed nonetheless.

No morning wood, though. That was nice. At least he'd managed to fuck that out of his system with the dogs and the 'dream.'

With Naka.

Simba hesitated, one hand against the tree behind him before he slowly sagged down against it. His breath left him in a long, slow whoosh as he leaned the back of his head against the massive trunk.

"What the hell am I going to do?"

According to Shenzi, Naka was on his way, and he'd seen the other lion in the desert. Hell, he'd taken out some of his sexual frustrations on his old bodyguard, using the darker power of his uncle to dominate the other man and seduce him to...enjoyable activity. The more that he thought about it, the worse he felt about what he'd done and the more that he wished that he had actually taken a moment to think with something other than his dick.

It's just...it's been so long, he thought, one hand over his face and the other running down his chest. Always the bottom...always the one taking it...never the one giving it...

And he had gotten so used to just being the one down there, the one that had to take it, the one that deserved to take it. He'd screwed up so many times, and now, he had to deal with the fact that the one time that he'd wanted to take something for himself, he'd fucked up and messed with his bodyguard. One of the few people that would actually side with him and try and help him, and here he was, throwing his long-time companion to the metaphorical wolves. Some prince he was turning out to be.

I didn't know. I didn't know, Simba thought. How could I have known? Nobody was supposed to come after me. That was the whole point. Run away and get out of there.

And what had happened as a result? The whole world seemed turned upside-down. A hyena asking him for help, his father dead, his father's Chosen - who knew what had happened to Sakabi, at this point? All he knew was that Scar was pulling the strings from a distance, and that there was something that his uncle wanted, but he didn't know what. All he knew was that it was probably better that he stay lost.

Or...was it?

Simba slumped all the way down the trunk, sitting at the base of the tree with his head in his hands. He was so lost. He'd run away because he didn't want to serve beneath his uncle. He'd gotten lost in the desert and had to be saved from the vultures when they were planning to break him in as a perpetual sex pet. Timon and Pumbaa had been great to him, but they were not going to change anything. They lived out here, enjoying a life of hedonism without thought or consequence. They had nothing that they could offer him that would make things better, not really. They just...they just lived, existed, and enjoyed things.

And what's wrong with that? he thought, only to answer himself. Nothing, if you don't care about the rest of the world around you. If you can do something...

He looked down at his hands again. He had a power, the same sort of power that his uncle had. That darkness, that ability to see what someone else wanted and make them think you could give it to them. It was something that they shared, a power of domination that could lead to something even greater over time. He'd seen the way that his uncle used it on him, speaking to those dark corners of his mind to control him...and he'd seen that one dream, that one moment when he'd spoken back. Scar had blinked first, pulled away, and Simba was still standing.

If you can do something...if I can do something, then maybe I have to do it.

Considering how much more he had than Timon and Pumbaa did, there was no way that he could even think about judging them without first throwing a long, hard look at himself. He sighed, leaning his head against his knees as he curled into a ball.

This isn't fair. I wasn't supposed to...my father was supposed to...

The reality of the situation was finally coming crushing down. The shock of his father's death had shielded him from the worst of the horrible event. The run through the desert had focused him on survival. The hedonistic lives of his new companions had forced him to keep thinking with his dick and his ass over everything else. It had all served as a constant distraction, keeping him from having to face the reality of the moment.

And now...

Now, enough time had passed and enough distance was there that he was able to face it with fear, but not horror. With pain, but not agony. Reality asserted itself, but...but it was more like a choice than it was like a crushing weight. There was something more to it than just having to fight the world and stand on his own two feet. He could at least look at the world and make a choice on the matter.

And one part of that choice, as much as it seemed strange to say it, was to stay here and let his uncle rule the Pride Lands.

Simba just stared out into the forest, thinking about it for the first time. His father had always told him that they had a responsibility to the different tribes and peoples of the kingdom, but Simba had never entirely believed the same. They were all living in the same place, yes, but the lions had never done more for the species under them than they did for themselves. They happened to rule, to keep things running, but that was as far as it went. They didn't even really keep the peace; they just were the ones making decisions, and the other species went along with it.

Was that really something that he wanted to go back and fight for? Did he really want to go and try to kick his uncle off the throne to protect that?

The young lion honestly wasn't sure. If it wasn't for the fact of what Scar had done to him, he wouldn't even really think about it, but once he did...

A shiver ran down his spine. He remembered how easy it was to listen to his uncle, how hard it had been to find the gumption to run away once they'd started having sex together. The sheer abuse that he had let himself suffer through under his uncle still terrified him, as he felt perhaps it should. There was something wrong with how easily his uncle had managed to get him under his heel, and how easily he had embraced it.

And more than that, Scar wanted to put the entire kingdom there. He wanted that power, and Simba doubted that it was because the other lion wanted to make things better. He had his own priorities, and they didn't match what the kingdom needed.

...I should go...

Should, however, didn't mean would. Simba looked off to the side, staring into the distance at the desert. He imagined trying to cross it, and he just...couldn't. The idea alone seemed all but impossible, particularly with all the dangers between here and there. The vultures, the jackals, and more stood between him and the Pride Lands. They could easily kill him before he got there, and if they didn't kill him, break him. He could end up worse than he had been with Scar even with his new powers.

And if he got there...

If he got there, what then? Could he beat his uncle? He didn't know. That was too hard to tell from a distance. But he would have to try, and...and he didn't know if he had the courage to do that. He honestly didn't.

"...I need a walk."

Simba forced himself to his feet, grunting as his muscles went back to complaining. That said, at least it was a normal, physical ache rather than one of the ones that he was carrying around in his heart. The lion shook his head, glanced back at the desert one more time, then turned away. His feet found a familiar path leading down into the jungle and he followed it with an almost desperate ease.

The cool shadows of the morning faded with the mist that hung around the forest, the sun beaming through the branches and the leaves to cast its shadows along the path and the bushes all about. Simba walked through it, feet kicking through mud and dust alike as he followed the old footprints of his friends. They were probably either foraging or looking for somewhere to have sex again. Food and fucking were their way of life, he thought with a small smile.

It didn't take long before he heard them in the distance. The usual rough grunts from Pumbaa all but confirmed that the warthog was on the bottom - as per usual - and the lion's dick twitched at the thought of what he'd see when he found them. He bit his lip, looking down at his cock as it lifted from between his legs, the head already starting to get a little wet with pre-cum at the memories of other things he'd seen them do.

It's not like...

He sighed. They were always willing to let him join, and there were times when he'd genuinely considered doing just that. They were always warm, always willing, but -

Well, it was always down to them doing what they did with each other. He always felt like a third wheel. One on one, they were great, and he liked what they could do, but...not together. Not as a threesome.

Not between them.

"Oh, yeah, Timon. Right there. Right there!"

That was his cue. Simba stopped at the edge of the clearing at the bottom of the hill, right where the river started to fall toward the desert and formed a small grassland between them and the dunes. It didn't go far, often scorched back during the dry season from what they had told him, but for the moment, it stood tall and proud against the dunes. The grass was tall and thick, and there was little to see down the other way.

But there was a lot to see up close.

Simba paused at the edge of the clearing, leaning against one of the trees as he watched the smaller meerkat fist the warthog. The big, muscular male was on his hands and knees, his plump ass in the air and swaying from side to side as he got gut-punched again and again from behind, his pucker flaring out and turning a deep pink from every thrust of Timon's fist.

Simba couldn't help but shake his head in admiration for how the big guy took it. Every time that he saw them together, he kept having to remind himself that Timon tended to be the top. Tended to be, as there had been times when Pumbaa had taken the meerkat's face for a ride, but Pumbaa's fat dick never quite made it under Timon's tail. The size difference was so extreme that there was no way that it would ever fit. It would hurt the little guy, but that didn't stop them from teasing about it from time to time.

The lion smiled, his tail flicking from side to side as he reached down, cupping his cock to the fisting show going on before him. Timon leaned in, licking around the warthog's raised pucker as his other hand went between Pumbaa's legs. Those big balls rolled side to side as Timon massaged them, and Pumbaa moaned out loud.

"Oooooh, Timon...that feels so good! Come on, a little faster - a little faster."

"Oy, Pumbaa, you slut. Gimme a break here."

Yet, for all the meerkat's complaints, faster he went. That fist punched in and out, faster than before, and Pumbaa's cock jumped, falling into the earth for a moment before jumping back up again and again, each time clearly getting closer to the edge of his endurance. Strings of pre-cum from earlier play were already splattered all over the ground, and now, the warthog was finally reaching his climax.

Simba pumped along with them, huffing under his breath as he watched the show. Yet, even as he got into the idea of taking the place of Timon's fist, or feeling that big thing pumping into him, he saw...other things.

He saw a meerkat that wanted someone that would do things with him rather than just go along with his own ideas. He saw someone that wanted to be teased, to be dragged along by someone that knew better. Timon could easily fall in line with someone that was stronger-willed than him that was willing to push the boundaries, and by the time that the meerkat realized what he was doing, he would be helpless.

And Pumbaa was no better. The warthog was simpler in mind, stronger in body, and Simba saw what the other man needed. There was someone that hadn't been able to express himself, that submitted to others because it made things easier and more comfortable. Yet, that cock desperately wanted the relief that others could give it. Simba knew that if he gave Pumbaa something to do with it - others to fuck - then the warthog would be eager to give whatever he needed to in order to keep that.

They could be manipulated.

They could be used.

Simba shook his head, trying not to pay attention to the little insights that the power offered him. He knew - outright knew - that to use that would be cheating, would be wrong, but at the same time, it was hard to think of anything that he wanted more than to feel that sort of power over someone else. Just to know that he could use it without hurting someone, to make a life better -

To get the pleasure of being in charge. To know that they'll listen to you. To make sure that you never have to lose and go back to being a bitch again.

But was there...was there anything wrong with being a bitch?

Simba didn't know. There were too many philosophical things running through his head at that moment, and he wanted to focus on the pleasure that the pair of them were obviously enjoying rather than the what-ifs that were burning in his head. The young lion pushed them away, idly stroking himself as Timon pulled his hand back from that puffy pucker. Pumbaa groaned, the big man reaching back and spreading his ass cheeks further, the meerkat stepping forward with his cock in hand and his eyes on that hole -

And then everything changed.

With a hard 'crack,' the trunk of a nearby tree all but shattered from sharp claws embedding themselves in it. All eyes turned as a bedraggled, cum-stained lion stepped out from behind the tree, teeth bared and eyes wild. The other male's mane was pulled out, left stained and marked from all kinds of use, but there were no signs of someone actually getting their dick past those jaws.

Even with the feral frenzy upon the other lion, Simba recognized him. It was Naka, come to find him...and completely feral from it.

"Rrrrr..."

The other lion growled deep in his throat, his eyes flicking to the fucking pair in the center of the clearing. His cock twitched, and Simba could see what had happened. Teasing. So much teasing, both from the night before and the desert and those within it, had affected Naka to an extreme degree. The other lion hadn't indulged himself, and the chastity that he'd held himself to meant that he was so pent up, so needy, that his body was no longer entirely his own. He was completely in the grips of whatever frenzy had seized him, and right at that moment, that meant that Timon and Pumbaa probably looked like an acceptable pair of holes.

Even as Naka took a step forward, Simba did the same. He lunged past his friends, putting himself between them and his former bodyguard. Naka's glazed eyes turned to him -

Oh, no.

Naka leaped through the air right for him, kicking off the ground and turning to bring his legs around. Simba responded as he'd been trained, but even then was knocked back a pace. The sheer force of that kick was enough to almost send him to the ground.

As Timon and Pumbaa yelped and ran for the trees, Naka kept pushing forward. Punch, punch, kick; the blows came fast and hard, and that throbbing cock oozed with pre-cum, clearly affecting the other lion's thoughts.

"Naka! It's me!" Simba shouted. "It's me!"

There was no slowing the attack. Whatever was going through his old companion's mind, it was not inclined to listen to anything that anyone said. And if that bobbing dick was anything to go by, it wasn't the usual calm, focused personality that was in charge at that moment. The work that Simba had done the night before clearly had affected his old friend.

He ducked and dodged, trying to find an opening. Every move was calculated, focused, and Naka had always been the better fighter in their training sessions. Simba couldn't dodge all the blows, and one or two strikes from each flurry got through, pushing him back even when he managed to block some of the full force from each until -

"OOF!"

One kick got through, catching him right in the stomach and sending him plummeting to the ground. He spun to avoid the head-stomp that he knew would follow, only to be pinned from above the second that he rolled all the way over. Naka straddled him, grabbing for his throat, only for the other lion's cock to bump against his.

Naka froze, his eyes going wide, his hips rolling. It was clearly completely unconscious, the battle-fury taking him and making him feel everything, and his body responded with need. The confusion was writ clear on his face, and Simba...hesitated.

The choice of what to do was as clear as it was difficult. He could be a slut, giving Naka somewhere to vent all that anger and aggression and need, or he could be that new power that gave his old friend instructions on what to do. He could give in, or he could take charge. Either one was possible; either one would solve the situation before him, giving him the chance to stop this fight before it got worse.

And yet...

He just stared, his breath caught in his throat. Even knowing what he could do, he couldn't bring himself to take charge again. Not when he had been the one to start this, not when he had already molested Naka through the night in the desert. He couldn't just do that again, not to his friend.

The choice was taken from him; Naka grabbed him by the thighs and bent him in half. Simba yelped as his ankles were pulled up to his head, his ass exposed, his tail pulled to the side. The feeling of that hot shaft against his hole reminded him of so many things; the vultures, the hyenas -

Scar.

For a split second, his vision filled with his uncle's visage, Naka's pale mane replaced by Scar's dark one, soft tan fur replaced with crimson red. Those frenzied eyes turned to his uncle's calculating orbs, staring at him and judging him. One more time, bending over. One more time, giving in. One more time, being broken.

Simba screamed, roaring as he brought his legs in. Even as Naka gasped from the sudden push, Simba rolled them both to the sides. The familiar burning stretch that came from anything sliding past his pucker filled him, but no sooner had it hilted than he was on top, pinning Naka to the ground. He had his hands around his old companion's throat, pinning him to the earth and holding him there, and his hips...

His hips were rolling, bucking back, taking that cock without even thinking about it. Even as he rammed back, even as he rode and 'served' that shaft, he was choking the other lion. Naka gasped, wheezing, and Simba stared as he just...kept...going.

It took him a full minute to stop his body, to keep from just riding that shaft, to force his hands back from choking out his once-bodyguard. Even then, he was barely in control of himself, and he shivered as he pulled his hands back, staring down at his own digits as he understood just how much he had let himself go. If he had been even slightly less aware of his own body and what it wanted to do, he might have actually killed Naka while riding his dick to kingdom come.

Shaking as he pulled back from the other lion, he made sure that his attacker was completely sane again before sliding his hips back. The squelching sound as that other cock popped out of his ass was enough to send a shiver down his spine and remind him of what he had become: a slut. An easy, open slut that would take cock at the drop of a hat and beg for more. He bit his lips as he stood up, taking his time to get to his feet as Naka stared up at him.

"...You didn't have to come here," Simba said. "I...I don't know why you followed me."

"...To be fair, I'm not sure that I wanted to. But they said that you were still here...and that there was a chance for the Pride Lands if I came to find you."

Simba shook his head.

"I got my father killed. He...He could have lived, if it wasn't for the fact that I fell for Scar's plots and tricks. If I hadn't sent you away. If we'd both gone to Scar when we knew what was wrong, he couldn't have gotten both of us. I was...I was so stupid."

"...You were. But at least you know that."

"Not that it does much good out here," Simba muttered, looking around. "How did you find me?"

"Shenzi...pointed me in the right direction." Naka groaned as he sat up. "When did you learn how to flip people like that? Sakabi never taught us anything like that."

"I...just knew."

He shivered; it was one more of the little things that the power allowed. It let him see weak points, and that extended to fighting as well as to what would break someone's spirit and personality. He shook his head in a vain effort to put it out of his mind, and intentionally looked away from Naka's bobbing cock.

"What do you want?"

"For you to come back and take responsibility for what you've helped make happen."

"For Scar."

Naka nodded.

"And for...everything else."

"Sakabi is Scar's plaything; every passing day, he does more to the old king's Chosen. Every day, the hyenas get more...aggressive, and the rest of the kingdom changes. He's changing it, making it into what he wants it to be, instead of what it should be."

Simba shook his head. He could only imagine what his uncle was doing, but there was something more there, something that he didn't entirely understand.

His uncle had the throne now, but he still kept the hyenas close. Shenzi had helped him because there was something that the hyenas weren't getting. Scar had to know that there would be those that would push back if they weren't getting what they wanted out of whatever deal that he had made, so why would he be holding back? What did he want that meant that he wanted the hyenas out of the way?

And what did Shenzi have over him that meant that he wouldn't just get rid of the hyena patriarch in the first place?

Simba leaned back against one of the trees as Naka got to his feet. The other lion hesitated, then offered his hand.

"Let's go home. They need you. We need you."

"..."

"Simba. You are the prince, whether you want to be or not. Your father -"

"My father...made mistakes to try and save me." Simba shook his head, looking away. "And those mistakes cost him the kingdom. Because we were both fooled by Scar, both tricked and used so that he could get the throne. If I go back...if I go back, what can I do? What the hell can I do to try and change things when I'm the one that messed it up so badly? Scar was the one taking care of things, the regent, because I was the problem, because I got broken by the hyenas, and the king killed them.

"If I go back...if he sees me again...what is going to happen? What's going to happen when he can take me back to his cave and...and..."

The memories were coming back, as pleasurable as they were horrifying. The feeling of his uncle's hard use, the sensation of that stiff prick plunging in and out of his ass, the taste of his uncle's body in his mouth as he was trained and used and broken in down in the darkness. It was all there again, and he barely held on, holding onto the tree beside him as something real, something substantial, something that was going to keep him from falling back into those memories again. He shook his head.

"If I go back, all that happens is that I turn into his tool again."

"Not if you fight," Naka said.

"Fight? Fight Scar?" Simba chuckled. "What do you think is going to happen if we do that?"

"..."

"You didn't think that far ahead, did you?" Simba shook his head. "If he hasn't gotten everyone on his side - if he hasn't made everyone love him the way that they used to love my father - then we still have to deal with the fact that he is the king. It's still...still rebellion," he managed to get out. "And if he's gotten the people to care? Then we have civil war. The whole kingdom would be ripped apart."

And it would be his fault. His fault. Again.

Simba clenched his hands at his sides, unable to even look at Naka. He knew how wrong this was, how much he should be doing something - he had just spent the morning thinking about what he should do since he could do something, for crying out loud - but just thinking of his uncle doing that again...

He didn't want to admit how much it stirred his need, how badly he wanted it. Just to lose that need to be responsible again, to shed the label of 'prince' and just be able to be something else...

"Simba. I don't think you understand."

He looked up with sheer effort of will, looking Naka in the eyes. His bodyguard shook his head.

"I'm going to take you home."

"You...will have to drag me out of this jungle to do that."

"If I have to, I will."

"...You're bluffing."

"Have I ever bluffed?"

"..."

"So, are you coming, or not?"

The End

Summary: Naka reaches Simba at the jungle, and a confrontation emerges.

Tags: M/solo, M/M, Masturbation, Fisting, Size Difference, Teasing, Timon, Pumbaa, Simba, Rule 34, All Gay, No Females, Lion, Warthog, PTSD, Meerkat, Grinding, Anal,

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