As he climbed the pinnacle of Pride rock, Scar did his best to hide the elation he truly felt as he ascended the throne he'd won. But he made sure to show strength tempered by a sorrow he didn't feel, a mask of mourning for the brother he'd removed from his path. He wasn't sure how many of the lionesses would actually be fooled by the display, but as long as he played his part they would play along. After all, the Pride needed a king, and Simba would have been too young to succeed his father even without certain complications.
               His nephew had, as always, been laughingly easy to manipulate, although the dark-maned lion foresaw some difficulties with what was to come. Simba had readily accepted Scar's reasoning that his father's untimely death was his fault, not realizing that it had been his uncle that had caused the fateful stampede. He'd looked crestfallen, worried about what others would think of him, but Scar had assured him he would set things right. All Simba had to do was follow the older male's instructions, and he would make sure the pride understood that he was not to blame.
               "It is with no small regret that I stand here to address you and confirm what most of you had heard..." he began, a hush greeting his solemn words "The king is dead, and it falls to me to accept the heavy mantle of leadership in my brother's absence. Rest assured, I intend to honor Mufasa's memory and see to it that his last wish is carried out to the letter..." he finished, fighting the urge to smile. Many of the gathered lionesses were puzzled by his words, and the ones who'd caught on were looking in disbelief.
               "Apart from the cubs, you were all gathered here a few months ago when my brother had summoned us to deliver a royal decree..." he spoke, remembering the humiliation of what Mufasa had no doubt considered his triumph, and the plan that had almost immediately started to ferment in his mind. "By the king's order, anyone responsible for his untimely death by any other means other than honorable combat was to be handed over into Rafiki's care, and the wise mandrill was bound by oath to turn that wrongdoer into a female." He spoke, wondering how proud his dim-witted brother must have been with that idea. It had meant that if Scar tried to do away with him, he would also be disqualifying himself from taking his place as king, ensuring young Simba would ascend the throne in due time. He hoped Mufasa would somehow be able to see what use he was about to make of that ill-conceived command.
               "But Mufasa's death had been an accident!" same a cry, just as Scar had been expecting.
               "True, our sovereign wasn't murdered. Noble to the end, he sacrificed his life to save that of his son..." Scar spoke, trying not to let his inner sneer creep into his voice. "But the wording of his order was clear - anyone responsible for his death... Now, I will not allow it to be said that Simba is in any way guilty, for what son would wish for his father's demise? But the responsibility is his, for his actions had placed him in danger and cause the death of our king. As much as it pains me to say this, the king's decree was clear and it is the law that we dare not brake." He said, noting the surprised look on the cub's face. 
This was a detail Simba hadn't been aware of, but he still believed his uncles words - that he was keeping him safe from an even worse fate. Scar also saw the reaction this caused among the lionesses as all of them realized the weight of his proclamation. Clearly they had intended for his rule to be a mere regency, hoping Simba would replace him as King once he came of age. Rafiki was standing to the side, the usually manic mandrill seeming solemn but aware that he had no more choice than the lionesses. Scar took a moment to savor the fact that it was Mufasa's own decree that removed Simba as a threat to his rule. Not to mention the other ways the black-maned male intended to make use of Mufasa's ill-though-of order.
"A disturbing notion, of course, but not as harsh as it may at first seem. Let the law be carried out, and once it is we will welcome an absolved Simba back with open arms as our newest pride-sister..."
The young lion seated at his uncle's side was still having a hard time believing what he'd just heard. He'd been relieved when Scar had stood up for him, insisting he was not and should not be viewed as guilty. The pain of losing his father was still fresh in the cub's mind, and the idea that he might have to live with the scorn of the entire pride was only making his mood darker. He was still in shock when he felt Rafiki gently pat his head.
"Come along Simba. Don't worry, it won't hurt..." the mandrill said, but the sound of defeat and resignation in his tone did little to ease the cub's troubled mind.
*******
"Simba! Are you awake?"
The words were familiar, and fighting through a haze the young lion felt like he'd heard them spoken before, but wtth his mind still barely conscious he couldn't really be sure. He did succeed in opening his eyes, which he hadn't managed up till now, his eyes coming into focus on a face that split into a grin when Nala saw his eyes looking up at hers.
"You remember to take it easy on... her. Simba will be fine, but that was a lot for a young body to go through..." the old ape scolded, his voice carrying well in the cave where Rafiki made his abode.
"N-Nala? How long was I asleep?" the groggy cub asked, twisting around on a bed of dry grass that Rafiki must have made for him on the hard floor of the cavern.
"It's been a little over two weeks. And you weren't really asleep... Simba, what's the last thing you remember?" the young lioness asked, a hint of concern dampening her cheerful tone.
"It was... I was with Scar and he was talking about the law and how I'd have to... is he still going to go through with that?" the cub asked. His senses were quickly returning to normal, and he found his nose twitching as it took in the scents around him. He could smell Rafiki, and the strange plant-smells that seemed to cling to the old mandrill's fur. He could smell Nala but then again he'd gotten good at that. Catching her scent had often been his only chance of detecting where the stealthy feline was lying in wait, ready to pounce on him once he wandered into range. But he could smell another lioness, and wondered if there was someone else who came to visit him. Nala looked puzzled for a second until his question sank in and her eyes dropped to the floor.
"Simba... he did go through with it..." she said, finally finding the strength to look her childhood friend in the eye. "But don't worry! I mean, I know it's a lot for you right now but I'll... I'll do whatever I can to help you get used to it." she said, her tail and ears rising as she tried to make the stunned cub in front of her feel a little better. She was till uneasy about the changes Scar had made to the Pride and her own role in it, but she did her best to put on a brave face for her friend's sake. "I missed you Simba... You're still my friend, whether you're a boy or a girl..." she added, affectionately rubbing her muzzle against the other cub's, and not failing to notice that her friend's face had become a little more delicate.
"Hah! Missed? Every day this one's been in here! I tried to chase her away, but the moment my back is turned she sneaks in again!" Rafiki complained while smearing various pigments over the far wall of his cave, although it was obvious from his tone that he hadn't really minded the little lioness' company. "Now go along, and take Simba with you. She'll be happier runnin' along with you that lying about in my home..."
"Feel strong enough to keep up?" Nala asked, and Simba realized that as troubled as his mind was his body felt well-rested.
"Then come along. I think I know what you'll want to see first..." the lioness said, trying to sound as brave and cheerful as she could. She knew that the days to come wouldn't be easy for her childhood friend, but she wanted to make them as painless as possible.
*******
"That's..."
"...you." Nala finished as her friend looked disbelieving at his own reflection.
Simba had noticed some differences while they made their way to the watering hole. For one he realized that the second lioness he'd been smelling in the cave was in fact himself. And there was also the absence of something between his legs, or more to the point the presence of something else. He'd seen what lionesses had back there, of course, but it was a disturbing thought that the next time he bathed himself he'd see it between his own hind-legs.
But those weren't the only changes. Even before Nala had walked up to him, adding her reflection to his as she looked down at the still surface of the pond, Simba could spot that his, or rather her face looked more like her friends than it ever had. Her muzzle looked a little more dainty, her whiskers less prominent, and the scruffy patch of hair on top of her head that would have become a mane had he grown up as a male was gone. Ever since she could remember she'd looked at her father thinking that she was going to be just as big and fierce when she grew up, and it was unnerving to suddenly realize she would grow into something more closely resembling her mother.
"See? It's not so bad is it?" Nala said, trying to ease the obvious tension griping her friend and former fiancée. "Just don't grow up to be prettier than me!" she added, and couldn't resist splashing the stunned cub while she stared at her reflection as if the water was showing her a stranger's face. Simba jumped back, tail bristling from the unexpended spray of cool water, but to Nala's relief she did spot a smile spread across her muzzle, if only briefly. She knew that Simba would be in for quite a few surprises when it came to her new place in the new Pride. And once that thought entered her head, she knew she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.
"Simba you know now that you're a female that... well there's things that a lioness is expected to do. You know, the Circle of Life and all that?" she said, broaching the subject she knew Simba would have a hard time with. She still had her innocence, whereas Nala had lost hers while Simba was in her weeks-long slumber, changing into the lioness that now walked beside her. The thought of what Scar had in mind for his former nephew made the lion cub's tail flag down on reflex. She doubted Simba's first time would be any more pleasant than hers was, but she knew from her own experience that even an immature body could develop a craving for certain physical sensations, despite the lingering fear and shame the mind felt...
"Yeah but... were still just cubs, right? I mean it's too early for us to..." she began but trailed off, too embarrassed about stating what they both knew.
After all, she had occasionally (albeit from a distance) seen her father with a lioness. What they were doing had seemed strange at first, but after several of those lionesses started to grow and expect cubs afterwards she puzzled out what they were doing. And she was sure Nala must have caught a glimpse of it as well, especially since she was better at stalking and sneaking than Simba was. A realization had grown in the cub's mind that one day it would be her on top of a purring female, and it had been a peculiar but not altogether unpleasant thought. Now she realized that future was gone, and that once she was grown it would be her body stretched out on the ground, her tail raised as a male climbed on top of her. Just the image was enough to make Simba's tail clamp down.
"Well yes, it will still be some time until either of us goes through our first heat. That's a time when a lioness can conceive a cub. And usually a male doesn't mate with a lioness unless she is in heat but... that was when Mufasa was king."
"Well yes but... there's a time in a lioness life when she starts going through... through her heat..." Nala began, awkwardly reciting the words her mother had spoken, pointing out the wide-eyed cub that she'd need to give her own daughters a similar speech one day. And now she was giving it before she'd even gone through her own heat! 
"It's a time when our bodies are ready to... you know - have cubs." She almost whispered, noticing the shock on Simba's. It still felt weird to her to imagine herself as a mother, and she knew it would be even more bizarre to the newly-changed lioness standing next to her. "It's the time when a lioness is ready to be mated..." she continued, remembering the face she'd made as her mother explained to her what mating was, insisting that when she was ready she'd feel differently about it. Scar had claimed much the same, insisting that once she went into her first heat she would be desperate to have him mount her. On one hand she was curious how being bred by a lion would feel without the tension and anxiety she felt whenever Scar demanded she lift her tail for him, but also some revulsion at the thought of being eager or even desperate for the current king's company. "Usually a male doesn't mate with a lioness unless she is in heat but... that was when Mufasa was king."
 She finished, letting the words sink in. The mention of his father brought pain to Simba's face, and she knew that to her the death of the pride's former monarch was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. But life went on and the pride had changed just as much as young Simba had, something that her new sister was about to learn to her distress. "Come along. Scar said he'd want to see you once you woke..."
*******
Worth the wait. Or at least she will be, soon enough...
That was the thought running around in Scar's twisted mind as he beheld his new favorite lioness, and the awkward one who he suspected would prove an even greater delight. The yellow-furred cub looked endearingly bashful, hesitant to lift that pretty little muzzle and look her new sovereign in the eye. But Simba had always paid too little heed to what others said about the late-kings shifty brother, and had been easy to manipulate. As much as the former prince of the Pridelands had changed, Scar suspected that the bashful little lioness would still be easy to bend to his will.
"Thank you Nala, for both escorting young Simba here and for staying at her side through this tumultuous period in her life. But I have some business with her so I'm afraid I shall have to ask for some privacy..." the black-maned male almost purred out, not bothering to hide his leer or his delight at the sight of the changed Simba.
Nala knew what would be in store for her friend, and had hoped Scar would let her stay at Simba's side so that she could try and ease her tension and fear. She certainly would have appreciated someone like that at her side when Scar had first introduced her to the duties a lioness owed her king, but she knew better than to go against the large male's wishes.
"I'll come and find you after you're... done, Simba." She said, giving her new sister a brief smile before making her way out of the Royal Cavern.
"Simba, Simba... I must say the change had been kind to you. You are already a sight for sore eyes, and sure to grow into a striking lioness in the months to come. A true queen of the Pridelands..."
"Q-Queen?" Simba asked, noticing that even her voice was different, higher and with a lilt to it that reminded her of Nala's.
"But of course! You were destined to be the next king of these lands, but unfortunately your late father's decree made that impossible. I feel it is the least I can do to make you my queen. It is regertful enough that I came to this title through such a tragedy, but if I didn't do everything I could to ensure you kept your proper station in life, well I'd feel like quite the... usurper." The lion finished, feeling quite proud of his performance. The lioness standing in front of him was stunned by his words, and he knew that various notions would be flashing through the cub's mind, deepening his confusion. Something that Scar intended to take full advantage of. "Of course you'll be expected to take certain duties on board..."
"Duties?" Simba asked, blushing at the distinctly feminine squeak in her voice. And it seemed like only a few days ago that she'd been practicing her roars...
"Yes. I'm not sure if Nala has mentioned something, but all the lionesses in the pride are expected to make themselves available to their King, and he in turn is expected to see to their needs whenever they enter their heat." He said, omitting the fact that he'd wasted little time before taking advantage of that rule.
And coupling with the lionesses of the pride had been satisfactory, albeit on a purely physical level. At first it was enough just to vent his frustrations on them, to savor the sublimely muscled bodies tensing under his own, the grip of a leonine femininity around his shaft as he took what was rightfully his. But all of the mature lionesses had already been taken by his brother, and the knowledge that he was savoring Mufasa's leavings had soured the experience.
Even mounting his brother's widow had been more of an act of hateful malice than actual passion. There was some satisfaction in the knowledge that he'd left his seed inside the former king's favorite, but he knew that such pleasures would make him bitter if indulged in to frequently. He would still breed the females when their bodies demanded a male, but for his leisure Scar had his eye on the few untouched females to be found in the Pride. 
Mufasa had never bothered a lioness until she went into her first heat, and at first it had been sheer impatience that had driven the raven-maned male to first mount Nala, but it hadn't ben impatience that made him take the still immature female over and over again while Simba was comatose. The little lioness had gotten more than used to masculine attention, but it was probably for the best that she had a new little pride-sister to help carry some of her burden.
"I know this is a lot for you to take in Simba, but you must leave your old life behind now, and embrace this peculiar change. And there's one reliable way for me to help you get into your role as a lioness..."
For the first time in her life, Simba found herself genuinely afraid of Scar. There was something wrong about the way he smiled as he took a few steps towards his new niece and something menacing about his posture. She felt like this was all happening to fast. It was only hours ago that she woke up as a lioness, and even less when it had occurred to her that she would one day be required to present herself for a male. But something in the way Scar was leering at her newly changed body told her the new king of the Pridelands didn't intend to wait.
She supposed she should have kept her eyes on the older male's, but the young lioness stood frozen as the large feline came beside her, his head now close to Simba's rear. The little lioness felt panic hold her tight, her eyes pointed up where she couldn't fail but notice Scar's masculine endowments and couldn't believe at how threatening such a thing now looked. She was still motionless and staring when a muzzle nudged her tail aside, the cub's eyes going wide and her breath leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp as she felt a raspy leonine tongue slide across her privates.
Simba was no stranger to feeling someone else's tongue back there, having been bathed that way by her mother whenever the lioness managed to catch her. But this felt different, and not just because the thing being licked was replaced by something else. She could see muscles along Scar's body tremble and twitch, feel the huffs of the male's breath against her now wet slit as he took in her scent along with the taste of her immature sex. Simba felt like she should say something, or do something - anything- just to get out of this situation, but the best the flustered cub could do was to try and keep her breathing steady.
The cub felt shame at being subject to this, feeling that this was profoundly wrong and disgusted with the way his body seemed to be reacting. But it wasn't really her body she was concerned about. She'd been staring at the fat sheath nestled between her uncle's legs, and as he continued to mash his tongue against her sex she could see pink begin to emerge from it. By the time Scar had stopped, the length was fully erect and something clear was drooling from the tip. It was a relief to no longer feel the male's tongue trying to push into her, but that relief was gone when the lion spoke.
"I think it's time you return the favor, don't you?" the voice came from behind, seeming to crawl its way up Simba's spine and into her frazzled mind. The male pushed her rear forward with his muzzle and soon the cub found herself taking the few steps it took to bring her just under the larger male's crotch.
Not wishing to anger her apparent King, Simba craned her head up, lifting her muzzle towards the leaking tip. But even after she did that, Scar still had to crouch a little to bring the leonine cock within reach of the distressed cub. Simba closed her eyes as she parted her muzzle, feeling disgusted with herself in spite of (or because of) the fact her nose was twitching, her nostrils flaring and obviously taking in the grown lion's masculine scent.
The feeling of what she still couldn't help but think of as another male's cock on her tongue was sickening, although she had to admit that the taste of the leonine shaft wasn't as bad as she'd feared. Clueless about what Scar actually expected form her, the cub did her best to lick and suckle the invading length, her efforts serving to draw more of that clear goo from the twitching shaft. Fighting revulsion, Simba swallowed, knowing that it would only be worse if he allowed the stuff to dribble from her muzzle and soak into her fur.
When Simba felt the first thrust her eyes had gone wide, her sight filled with the tensed muscles on the huge male's crotch as Scar began to hump into her muzzle. Something between a growl and a purr was coming from the barrel-chest above her, a sound that froze Simba in her place as the hard, warm length kept pistoning in and out of her mouth, the tip almost hitting the back of her throat on a few of the more violent lunges.
Even though the angle was different, the motion triggered a memory in the cub's brain of her father moving the same way on top of a lioness. She felt sick to her stomach at the knowledge that Scar was mating her muzzle! She was doing her best not to gag and choke on the twitching length, screwing her eyes shut once again in a futile effort to forget where she was and what was happening. 
Even if she had kept them open, from her vantage point she couldn't see the two swollen orbs swinging with every thrust, nor could she see that heavy pouch finally pull up as the male prepared to release his load down her throat. She could feel the shaft suddenly begin to twitch and throb, and could feel it grow rougher against her tongue as the barbs lining it stood on end. But none of that prepared Simba for the first torrent of thick leonine seed as it gushed down her gullet.
The lioness almost choked on the first jet, but managed to bring herself to force the slime down, only for a second rope of warm cum to shoot out of the twitching tip. She sputtered and dribbled the white goo as she struggled to both breathe and force it down until she finally pulled her muzzle off Scar's lionhood. She cringed at the bitter taste on her tongue and folded her ears back as the remaining ropes of Scar's seed were shot all across her muzzle and over her face. The masculine scent was all her nose could smell now, and as the warm slime soaked into her fur she was sure that others would be able to smell it to, and know just how she'd come to be marked with such a musk.
She was still doing her best just to keep the thick goo down when she realized Scar hadn't been idle while she'd been coughing and sputtering. Even though Simba was on all fours, she was still a cub and Scar had no trouble standing over her, the looming presence of a male who'd just used her muzzle making the young lioness shudder. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her next, but the moment she felt something wet and hard prod against her fluffy rear, she could make a guess.
"No! Uncle, please..." she mewled, ashamed by the way her voice sounded as she pleaded with the large male carefully trying to find his mark.
"Now, now Simba. I've waited quite patiently for this... Besides, this will be part of your new life, so the sooner you accept that, the less stressful it will feel..." Scar almost purred from above. Even though he'd just fed the new lioness his seed he wasn't lying about being patient. He'd left Nala to her own for the past week or so, and now Simba would find out just how pent-up that had made him.
Simba wanted nothing more than to run, to try and get away, but her legs remained tensed and immobile. Some part of her knew Scar was speaking the truth - she was a lioness now, or at least would be once she grew up. From what she'd glimpsed of mating the lionesses had seemed to enjoy it, and as the tip of Scar's cock got closer and closer to her twitching sex, she wondered if that was even something to look forward to. She didn't want this to hurt, but the idea of enjoying being mounted like a female disgusted her in a way she couldn't quite describe.
As it turned out it was painful. One of Scar's testing pokes had struck her little slit, just enough for the cum-slicked tip to wedge. The large male's next thrust buried his length in the startled cub under him with enough force to raise Simba's hind-paws from the stony ground, the tightness of her virginal femininity proving no obstacle for the cum-slicked length. The lioness could feel her body struggling as it was invaded by the grown male, a hard heat lancing through her as Scar growled dominantly lust above her head.
Before she had any time to adjust the slimy length was pulled out, a brief flash of relief before the entire thing was pushed back in with enough force to almost knock Simba over. Her claws unsheathed from either the pain, or an attempt to find purchase on the hard stone floor as every thrust by the male filling her threatened to knock the lioness flat on her face.
"P-please... stop!" Simba almost sobbed out, the words forced from her lungs with every merciless thrust from the lion rutting her.
"I know it hurts Simba, but I'm sure you can -ngh!- take it. After all Nala did..." Scar said, slowing down just a little but with no intention of stopping until he was done.
The words hit Simba with such force that she nearly forgot about the barbed shaft pistoning in and of of her freshly deflowered sex. Nala. It seemed like such a little while ago that she'd learned that she was supposed to become her queen one day. The idea of mating with Nala had seemed absurd when Zazu had first mentioned the arrangement, but Simba had kept mulling over the idea, finding it less objectionable each time she did. But that future was gone now, replaced by one where they were both Scar's mates. 
But Nala was fine! 
The young lioness clung to that thought as she was mated by the far bigger male. Scar had done this to Nala and even though she'd acted a bit strange in his presence, she'd seemed unharmed. Simba clung to that thought as her uncle's barbs raked the delicate walls of her sex, her body still straining to accept a shaft it still wasn't ready for.
Knowing she wouldn't be harmed by this made it easier to endure the pain, but it did little to ease the former lion's humiliation. Clueless as she was, something inside her rebelled at the thought of being mounted, of meekly submitting to a male and letting him penetrate her. But despite the fact that neither her mind nor her body were ready for the act of mating, the physical sensations of a leonine shaft were stirring instincts that had come along with Simba's recent change.
Despite the pain and despite the humiliation, something inside her wanted this and the lioness found herself gritting her teeth, worried something might get past her muzzle that she wouldn't be able to live down. Scar's rhythm was steady now, his heavy sack slapping against her as he bred her with undisguised delight.
By the time the lion's rhythm grew more urgent, Simba was barely standing up. She'd folded her ears against her head, trying to block-out the wet noises the large male made as he rutted her sore folds. Scar's purrs started to sound more alike a low growling, his hips now striking against the little lioness' rump even as his spines flared, spreading both pain and a distressing heat through Simba's loins. 
When the lion's climax finally came, Simba almost welcomed it. Scar roared proudly, holding himself mercifully still as the spines covering his member merely poked against the delicate flesh clinging to it rather than raking it. When his shaft erupted it had felt soothing, almost like a downpour putting out a fire caused by the violent motion of the barbed shaft. Soft gasps reached Simba's ears, filling the young lioness with disgust even as her uncle filled her with his seed. As revolted as she was, it scared her more than she could describe to think that she might in any way come to enjoy such a treatment.
There was relief when the invading length was finally pulled form between her abused folds, but also an emptiness that made the young lioness uneasy. Only after Scar turned around to admire his handiwork did Simba realize she'd been keeping her tail up, folding it down quickly to deny the leering male a further view of the mess he'd made.
"Well I suppose that's enough for today. You may run along now Simba, I'm sure Nala's nearby and waiting to comfort you. She had a similar look on her face when I'd first mounted her, which only makes me certain that you'll grow to enjoy being rutted as much as she does..."
*******
With Nala resting on top of her and her rear end thrust towards her face, it was mostly the other lioness' scent filling Simba's nose, but through the sweet smell and taste of her childhood friend she could catch the sharper masculine musk of the male watching them. Scar had told them to get each other ready, and the little lioness had little doubt her uncle was savoring the sight of the two cubs busily licking away at each other's slits, tongue's dipping in to prepare the two feline honeypots for the penetration to come.
When Scar had insisted they do this she remembered Nala blushing as red as she did, figuring that the older male had never before asked her to do anything with another female. His friend's tongue had seemed as awkward as Simba's own and she could feel the tension in her body as Scar's eyes crawled over the two of them.
This will be the fourth time Simba was mounted and bred by the Pride's new king, and also the only time the lioness wasn't feeling dread at the thought. Her body had gotten used to the experience, or at least as much as a body as young as hers could get used to being used by a fully grown male, but some lingering shred of masculinity in his mind still recoiled at the thought, despite what had happened last time.
He'd been under Scar, with the dark-maned male furiously rutting away, the rakes of his barbs against the tender walls of his sex merging into a strange burning sensation between his hind-legs. But that fire had seemed to spread all of a sudden, and even though Simba's mind was a bit hazy she could remember the mewling noises she'd made as her body seemed to convulse and a wave like none she'd felt before washing over her. It had been terrifying and thrilling at the same time, the shame leaving her mind only to return after the male above her began to chuckle, complimenting her on how well she was adjusting to being a lioness.
It was a fact Simba had come to terms with, with subtle reminders everywhere. She was still on occasion startled when she bent down for a drink of water, only to find the reflection of a cute golden-furred lioness staring back at her. As Scar had promised, no one in the pride judged her for her father's demise, and the older lionesses treated her kindly, although she could spot the difference in their behavior. Before, they would often remark on how quickly she was growing and what a fine lion she was sure to grow into, their minds no doubt conjuring up an image of a young male growing into his prime. Now instead of a prospective mate all they saw when looking at her was their newest little pride-sister.
"I think she's ready now, Nala..." came Scar's voice, interrupting Simba with his tongue inch-deep in his friend's sex and hers just slipping out past his own folds. After they disentangled themselves from each other they spotted Scar lying on his back, a fat red shaft resting against the pale fur of his belly. "Come along Simba, climb up..." the male purred, leering at the blushing cub as Simba did as she was told.
As she stretched out on top of the larger male, she could feel Scar begin to purr, the subtle sound of a feline tongue working busily somewhere behind her hinting that Nala was responsible. With her ears folded back, she scooted back a little, awkwardly making her way further down the adult male's body. Scar had taken her several different ways so far, but each time it had been the lion doing the thrusting, and Simba was feeling fresh shame at the thought that she will be expected to rut herself this time 'round.
She gasped when a hot tip poked against her well-tongued sex, biting her lip in an expectation of a thrust from the lion below her. But Scar merely continued to recline and Simba's blush deepened at the realization that the male really expected her to slide up and down on top of him. Forcing her hips back she felt her petals part around the barbed member, the penetration feeling no less disturbing despite the gentle pace.
Simba had hoped that strange episode from last time had been a one-time occurrence, but her body had apparently not forgotten the rush and the swelling of ecstasy she'd experienced as Scar rutted her. The silken walls of her sex seemed to tremble as they wrapped themselves around Scar's member, her rear no longer under her control as it slid further and further down until she could feel the fine hairs of his sheath tickling her straining folds.
"Aaaaahhh!" she gasped, surprised when he felt something soft but raspy flick across the lips hugging the leonine length.
The second lash followed the first while warm puffs blew into the soft for of his rump. She knew what was going on back there, but he still wasn't sure why. With each lick Nala gave her lips she could feel the walls of her sex tighten a little, the lion under her groaning as her warm passage massaged the hard length of flesh stuffing her to the brim. A strange feeling build somewhere just below his stomach, and Simba was surprised again to find her hips moving just a little, letting no more than an inch of Scar's length slip out before swallowing the entire member once again.
From behind the Pride's newest sister, Nala began to softly purr, dividing her attention between Simba's straining lips and the heavy sack below it, just waiting to unload into the slowly gyrating feline. She could see that a part of Simba had definitely grown to enjoy mating, but her friend was still too stiff, too reluctant to let her body do what it wanted. She supposed that deep-down Simba still thought of herself as at least partly a boy, so she did the best she could to stir his more feminine instincts. She certainly hadn't enjoyed being mounted by Scar at first, but after the male had brought her to climax a few times she found herself looking forward to her time with him. She still had mixed feelings about the black-maned lion as a person, but there was no doubt her body had accepted him as a mate.
Resting on top of Scar's body, Simba could feel rather than hear the male's mounting purr, a part of her feeling thrilled at this sign of approval form the large feline. He wasn't really moving up and down, but his back was arching and flexing enough to slide her slid along the barbed length, letting a little more slip out each time before driving herself back and taking the whole thing again.
The sensation of the hard length moving in and out was comforting now, as was the way the leonine length throbbed every time she took the entire thing inside her. Without the male rutting furiously into her, she could feel the barbs sliding across the velvety walls of her sex each time she pulled up, the electric sensation making her gasp and mewl until she reached her apex and slid down once again.
Whenever felt a stroke of Nala's tongue she'd also feel her walls tighten around the barbed cock and her whole body tense as something within her built and threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel the leonine shaft leak within her, and also knew it was nothing compared to the hot rush that would follow. The sensation of having her young body pumped full of Scar's seed was disturbing, but the last time it had happened she'd found herself focusing on the feel of the steely length in her coming alive, throbbing as the tip nestled against the opening of her womb.
Without realizing she'd done it, Simba had sped up, her hips moving half-way up the rumbling lion's shaft before being pushed back until the male's sheath kissed her straining slit. Strange noises were coming from her muzzle now, a particularly loud one making its way out whenever Nala's tongue flicked against both her sex and the slick length buried in it.
Even though riding Scar like this was hardly exhausting, Simba found herself short of breath as she almost slammed her hips down, her young body suddenly desperate for the sensation of those barbs raking her tender flesh and the tip of Scar's member bottoming out within her. Her whole body started to tremble, and the cub could no longer push herself off her mate.
Whimpering fiercely, Simba desperately ground her hips against Scar's crotch, the feeling of Nala's nimble tongue lovingly licking her splayed lips serving to push her over the edge. The member held within her body seemed to grow twice as thick as her tunnel tightened around it, constricting the length at first before starting to pulse lovingly, almost begging the male to give her what she instinctively craved. 
She could hear Scar's growl of satisfaction just before she felt the first rush of heat deep within her, the swelling warmth only serving to prolong her own climax. He was still blissfully dazed when the flow of leonine seed stopped and he slid off Scar, barely standing on still shaky legs as he watched Nala mount the male, sliding back until the slimy white member found its way inside her and her pride-sister pushed herself down with a moan...
*******
"There you are!"
Simba lifted her head and squinted against the late-afternoon sun, catching sight of a familiar figure padding towards her. She'd been lounging around for hours, just enjoying some tranquility, but the lioness coming her way had obviously had a more eventful afternoon. Simba almost envied her, but she was nearing the end of her pregnancy and quite frankly didn't have the energy to properly enjoy male attention. 
She'd grown since the day she became a lioness, in more ways than one. Her body was still a bit sleeker than that of a full-grown lioness, apart from the belly which had grown full and round in the past few weeks as her cubs grew inside her. She had to admit, she was quite anxious for the day when she got to see them, and judging by the way the exhausted Nala was nuzzling her belly, she was looking forward to being an aunt as well. 
Although judging by her condition she might soon have cubs of her own to look forward to. She'd gone into heat just that morning, and showed the subtle and unsubtle sings of a lioness that had spent the entire day vigorously mating. Scar's musk clung to her, almost masking the cloying fragrance of her nubile young body, and Simba could easily pick up the sharp scent of the king's seed as it leaked from between Nala's well-bred folds. The thought of the two of them together stirred something in her, and the gravid lioness knew she was looking forward to more than just seeing her cubs once her time came. As Nala snuggled up to her and they began to bathe each other, Simba let her mind wander, picturing her next time under the pride's ruler and her king...