Stolen Looks Stolen Secrets
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Simba's Stolen Pride free porn video
"SCAR!"
Simba swung open the doors to his uncle's office, a low growl escaping
his throat. Scar turned his chair to face him with cigar in hand and a
fine grey suit covering his wiry frame, before he slowly stood to speak.
"Ah, Simba," the black-maned lion said with a wry smile. "It's been a
long time, hasn't it?"
Simba's eyes narrowed. A long time didn't even begin to describe it. His
father, Mufasa, had been the mayor of Pride City. His passion for
bolstering the development of the city, his stern yet understanding
approach to his subjects, and his incredible wisdom and kindness all made
him one of the most successful and popular politicians the metropolis had
ever had. And through his son's childhood, Mufasa had done the best he
could to encourage those traits in Simba, with the hopes he would one day
replace him.
The entire city became just a little bit darker the day of the accident.
Though the wildebeest responsible had been arrested, Pride City never
quite recovered from the loss of their beloved leader, and especially not
when his brother and vice-mayor took charge. Under Scar's rule, Pride
City did nothing but suffer. The crime rate sky-rocketed as Scar all but
allowed the Hyenas free reign in the streets, pretty much every one of
Mufasa's development plans were cancelled to allow the funds to go
elsewhere causing mass unemployment, even the plants were dying due to
the loss of anyone to tend for them.
But Scar didn't care. He was mayor. It wasn't his problem.
As for Simba, he had been inconsolable after the accident. Even though he
was just a boy at the time, Mufasa had been driving him to his music
class at the time, something Simba had begged and begged his father to
let him attend. If it weren't for him and that stupid class, they
wouldn't have been in the car at the time. If it weren't for him, Mufasa
might have still been around. And of course Scar had done little to
dissuade the idea or alleviate the guilt Simba felt. So he ran away.
And now, fifteen years later, Simba had returned.
"Cut the crap, Scar!" Simba growled. Despite having lived a slacker
lifestyle in the countryside for the past decade and a half, he had still
managed to grow into practically his father's double. His body was
muscular and athletic, while the cub's boyish features had matured into
the face of a handsome lion. A thick and untamed red mane fell across his
shoulders. In comparison to Scar's suit, Simba wore a simple red t-shirt
and jeans. He entered the office, gesturing dramatically at nothing in
particular. "Look at what you've done to my father's city! To MY city!
It's practically in ruins!"
Immediately Scar's smirk disappeared, replaced by a deep scowl.
"This city is MINE, boy," he growled. "Mufasa is dead... and have you
forgotten WHO, exactly, is responsible for that?"
Simba paused, and for a moment his fury faltered.
A gunshot rang out.
Burning pain filled Simba's body and he dropped to the ground. From
behind the door a cold chuckle sounded as the Hyena leader stepped out, a
smoking gun in her hand.
"Excellent job, my dear!" Scar said to his bodyguard with a triumphant
smirk.
"Just doin' my job, boss," she replied, twirling her gun playfully. She
glanced down at Simba and trained the barrel of her weapon with his
forehead. "Want me to finish the job?"
Simba groaned, eyes darting between the two Outlanders standing over him
as he clamped his hand over the bullet wound. The room was quickly
growing dark, yet he saw Scar place his hand on the Hyena's wrist and
push her aim aside.
"No, Shenzi," he said, his smile widening. "I have a MUCH better idea..."
* * * * *
Nala grumbled to herself as she walked through the Outsider's Den. The
gaudy lighting, the thumping music, the stench of alcohol, all of it came
together to create what was easily THE trashiest club in all of Pride
City. A scantily clad server bumped against her, gave a quick "sorry hun"
and hurried on her way, drawing a groan from Nala's lips. Why the hell
did Scar want to meet her here?
Looking over the tables she spotted him at a table nearest the centre-
stage. He wasn't hard to spot; his expensive-looking outfit and aloof
demeanour stood out compared to the hooting and hollering crowds. She
scowled and approached him.
"Scar," she said brusquely. "What do you want?"
"Oh come now Nala, why so cold?" he asked with smirk. "I simply wanted to
show you something." He gestured with his eyes to the stage.
Nala rolled her eyes but followed his gaze. "What could you possibly-"
She stopped mid-sentence when she saw what she was looking at, and her
jaw dropped.
Towering spike heels tapped against the stage floor as the new dancer
shimmied and swayed. Muscular legs clad in dark fishnets led up to a fit
and toned ass, a long tail swishing from side to side while just above
the words "Hakuna My Tatas" were inked into their orange fur. A sparkly
thong was practically invisible from behind as it slid between their
cheeks, but did nothing to hide the impressive cock forming a bulge in it
from the front. Climbing up further gave way to firm, well-define abs
with a bejewelled naval piercing, below the biggest pair of tits Nala had
ever seen. Bouncy, perky and unnaturally round, they were very obviously
the result of plastic surgery, and they stood out absurdly
inappropriately against the otherwise hunky body. Instead of a bra, a
pair of shiny pasties with tassels covered the dancer's nipples. Their
hands, claws blunted from a manicure and wrists decorated with cheap
bracelets, clung to the stripper pole they used to balance as they
jiggled their body obscenely. A luscious red mane fell from the dancer's
head, while tacky earrings dangled from their ears. And finally their
face, despite the thick layer of makeup that coated it and the pink
crescent tattooed across their left eye, was a face that Nala would
recognise anywhere.
"SIMBA!?" she screamed, absolutely mortified.
The outburst caught Simba's attention and he glanced in Nala's direction.
He could only cringe at her, his painted red lips pulling downwards.
"N-Nala..." he said, though his voice could barely be heard over the
pounding club music.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to take your rightful
place as... as..." She gave him another once over, her expression
shifting from shock to revulsion, especially when she looked at his
wobbling implants. "Oh my GOD..."
"W-Wait, Nala, it's not what you-"
"Know what?" She cut him off as she reached into her pocket, drawing a
handful of bills she tossed into the air to shower over Simba's head like
confetti. "Have fun! If this is your RIGHTFUL place, then enjoy it!" She
did an about-face and stormed off without a second glance back.
"Nala, wait!" Simba called out to her, but the cheering crowd and trashy
music drowned him out. He prepared to step off the stage, but a glare
from Scar stopped him. He glanced around, seeing Shenzi hanging out by
the bar with Banzai and Ed; even as they laughed and joked, her eyes were
trained on him. With a defeated whimper, Simba closed his eyes and
continued to swing his body around the pole.
Scar chuckled as he leaned forward, stuffing a dollar into his former
nephew's underwear, before leaning back and taking a big draw of his
cigar.
It felt good to be king.
Safiya
- 11.01.2022
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