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Links in the chain
Jason nudged Debra, and made the slightest motion with the barrel of
his hunting rifle. "There," he whispered.
They were both wearing tan clothing from head to foot, including the
off-white safari hats they had purchased at her insistence, two stops
back on the tour. They were actually coming in handy now, with the sun
in Kenya threatening to bake them dry.
Their guide reappeared, one coffee-bean-dark hand pointing at the opening
in the thicket. Silently, he put two hands together palm to palm, and
lay his cheek against them.
"Are you sure about this?" Debra poked an elbow into his sweaty
ribs. "Sleeping lions?"
"We'll never get another chance. Lions are protected in lots of
countries now, and safaris are expensive. These two are old…younger
ones'll just take their place after we shoot them." Jason rose
to a crouch, and crept forward as silently as he could, his wife following
nervously.
The guide gestured again, emphatically, and the two moved into the shade
of the thicket. A little cooler here, especially with dusk approaching.
Jason looked out for the hand-long thorns, but the hole in the thicket
seemed safe enough…almost trimmed. Perhaps some animal ate the
long, green spikes.
"Are you sure this is safe?' Jason jumped, staying quiet with an
effort. "Shhh!" he pointed ahead, and she squinted into the
dimness.
Light filtered in dusty shafts through the overhanging briar. Somewhere
ahead was the tree the mass of brush surrounded, a towering thing. The
tour guide on the bus trip today had named this type, but Jason was
to busy watching for lions (Lions!) to think of it. His heart raced,
sweat beaded on his forehead, and every few steps, he would pause, Debra
bumping into him from behind. At least she was silent now….
A sound. He stopped where he stood, flinched as she, once again, bumped
into him, and listened. A creak, a groan…a long whisper, then rustling.
The wind? He looked up; the briars did not seem to stir.
Another step. Sweat beneath his armpits, felt more with each moment.
His mouth, dry now, aching for a drink; sweat stung his eyes suddenly.
His feet, more and more reluctant to step forward. And now, frozen,
staring into the dimness ahead. Lions. In the shadows, somewhere. The
rifle in his hands, some sort of military carbine (hunting rifles being
harder to get, his guide said) wasn't as comforting as it had been a
minute before.
He paused…and in one moment, realized that he wasn't going to take
another step forward. Accountancy was not the most glamorous career…but,
lion-hunting was not the way to add excitement to his life. He smiled
to himself, and turned back to his wife, pointed at the exit. Shook
his head.
And then the net sprang up all around them. His rifle was pressed against
his chest, his finger spasming on the trigger. Click. Click? It was
supposed to go off when you pulled the trigger. Debra mashed into him
from the side, and he lost his balance, the next pulling him nearly
from the dirt so the two of them struggled, an awkward lump.
His wife let out a shriek, and he cursed, letting go the gun and reaching
for the Buck knife he had on his belt. He couldn't quite reach it, and
wriggled his hand farther down his side…only to freeze at her wide-eyed
expression.
Lions. Two; a huge male, defined by the black mane that seemed to fill
the corridor in the thornbrush, and beside him, a sleek female, sandy-colored
like his legs. The two watched him with pale yellow eyes, seeming uninterested.
Heart pounding, he froze, his fingers like iron around Debra's forearm.
The only sound was the harsh breathing of the two of them; the lions
stood like statues. And then, the female stood. Stood? She hopped up
onto her hindpaws, balanced with tail flicking, and then melted, her
fur running over her torso as she grew slim. Her pelt grew so thin that
black skin showed through on her belly, her torso now humanlike, small
breasts like an athlete's topped with purple nipples. She steadied,
a lion-woman, her head still feline,tuft-tipped tail twitching. "Hello."
Her voice was rich, native-accented; she must have been seven feet tall.
"Hi?" he turned his head the smallest fraction, and saw the
male lion standing as well. Seven and a half feet tall, at least, his
blocky head seeming as large as when he'd been on four legs, his mane
enormous in the gloom. Heavy muscles defined his chest, what there was
visible around the ruff of black mane that ran down to his navel. He
had even less fur, his arms and column-like legs almost human, long,
black cock dangling between his thighs.
Debra was staring at the male. He nudged her, as the lioness stepped
forward. "You won't need this." She gripped the barrel of
his rifle, and pulled it from the net, tossing it aside into the shadows.
His wife's rifle followed, the cat having to cut two strands of the
net to free it. "They weren't loaded anyway."
"Not…loaded?" He struggled from the net as lowered it
to the floor, hardly noticing the male behind her as the lioness' hands
found the buttons in his shirt. He fixated on one erect, purple nipple
as she expertly pulled his safari clothing off, his pants following
as he stood half in a daze. In a moment he was naked. "Why are
you doing this?"
She laughed, a purring growl, and pulled him in against her chest with
one long, sleekly muscular arm. "A long time ago, there was a lion."
Past her shoulder, he saw Debra, also naked, being pulled in against
the big male's chest, the two settling down, his wife pulled into the
lion's lap. "He was sick, and old, and one day he decided that
the washing-woman he smelled in a hut was the only food he could get."
She was pushing him down, his back gritty now with the sandy floor,
and her hand found his dick, gripped with smooth strength, the pads
rubbing him so he came erect instantly. She stepped over him with one
knee, lowering herself. "He broke into the hut, and she cowered
under the only shelter she had, a lioness-skin. Huwrrrr…."
He moaned as well, as she impaled herself, and a few feet away, he heard
his wife squeak; he looked back, and saw her fully in the lion's lap,
his balls small next to the long hard shaft that pushed up into her
pussy. "Debra…ough." As his wife started to move in the
lion's lap, the lioness squeezed him in her, and he looked up at her
again.
"He climbed up over her rump, to get at her neck, and realized
that he was atop a lioness…or, it looked like a lioness, felt like
one. Without thinking about it, his paws went to either side of her,
and he found her with himself. Frightened, she stayed still, and the
lion did to her what he'd done to many lionesses. It didn't take long…lions
are quick, and small."
The male lion gave a purring chuckle at that, and Debra squealed as
he gave her more, this lion anything but small. "And…"
she pulled his face back around, and began to squeeze him, rhythmically,
like a pulse. "He'd done what maybe no lion had done before. It
changed him. Did you not wonder how we did what we did, changed?"
Jason nodded mutely, reaching up now, finding the half-furry breasts.
She was much bigger than he, but her pussy gripped his cock, squeezing,
and he pushed back as best he could. "He could…it made him
change?" He closed his eyes for a moment, felt the squeezing. Seconds
ticked away, his hands finding her hips. There was a smell, too, a rank
musk, the scent of rutting lions. He felt himself growing ready.
The lion did, as well. A snarl, a thump, and Jason opened his eyes to
see him pulling Debra against his belly, his heavy cock pushing deep.
The furry balls twitched, and strings of cum dripped down the shaft
onto them, his wife pushing at the muscular chest, moaning. The lion's
tail lashed the ground; thump, thump.
"Yessss." The lioness was grunting to herself, squeezing him.
"But maybe it'd happened before…a pet lion, a tame lion, somewhere.
That one didn't learn to change. But this lion didn't just sire the
woman." His hands slid up her belly towards her breasts, as he
felt his balls growing tense.
"Jason!" The shriek galvanized him, and he looked back, away
from the lioness, forgetting her. The lion still held Debra, but now
he yawned. A great, jaw-creaking yawn, black lips pulling back, finger-long
canines standing out. Yawned, and leaned down towards the woman in his
lap, his mouth taking in her entire head.
"Debra!" He shot out a hand towards her, tried to squirm from
under the weight, but the lioness held him effortlessly, keeping her
balance atop him. "Let her go, you bastard!"
The lion fixed him with a pale, uninterested eye, and swallowed, his
head seeming to expand as his neck swelled around Debra's face. Another
gulp, and her lips were sliding up over her tanned shoulders, swallowing
her slowly, easily, chin slipping down between her breasts.
"Get off me…get off!" He pushed at the lioness, but she
held his wrists, and looked down at him coolly. A frantic jerk of his
hips, and all it did was make her eyes narrow, as he thrust into her.
"Ugh."
"The lion didn't just ssssire her. He ate her afterwards…when
he realized she wasn't a lioness. He didn't swallow her, no…he
couldn't. It was…after, that he changed." She was still squeezing
him, and his body responded, even as he clawed at her arms to get free.
Debra was fast disappearing, up to her navel in the lion's muzzle, and
he leaned back, cock dripping as it pulled from her.
Leaned back, tossed his head up, and his swollen neck pulsed as he gulped
down her butt. The cheeks stood out through his mane, then they were
gone, and her thighs were sliding into his maw.
"He could change, to a half-man. And, after eating a few more women,
to a full man. Still, he couldn't stop. Every so often, he had to…replenish
himself." A squeeze, and he moaned, getting close.
"No…!" The lion's mane-covered neck pulsed, once more,
and Debra's feet slipped into his mouth. Shutting his jaws with an emphatic
snap, he closed his eyes as well, and swallowed. His maned chest stretched,
creaked, and then the lump passed by, and the small bulge in his belly
stretched out. With a lurch, the lump descended into it, wobbling, and
the lion clasped his fingers over the stretched skin, the shape of curled-up
woman twitching underneath.
"You son of aaaaaghhhh." Jason groaned, as he felt it happen,
the lioness' squeezing setting him off. Felt his balls throb, his shaft,
as he let go into her. "…bitch." His hands still pushed
at her chest, weak now.
She groaned, purred, and he felt her pussy grip down, not an orgasm,
but trembling, close. "Yesss. Give it all to me." She took
his wrists in her big hands, one and the other. "And the lion,
after a time, found a man. And he made that man sire a lioness he'd
tied up. And then…" she leaned down, over him.
"Oh, no." She yawned, and Jason stared at her palate. At the
smooth, dark opening at the back of her tongue, that was going to get
much bigger. To her, he was just a meal; she needed to eat him, to stay
what she was. He was just a link in a chain of meals….
"Oh, yesss." His head fit perfectly into her mouth.
The End.
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