Confessions of a Lion


Come in, Come in, please, close the door behind you. The words I have to say are not for all ears, they were given to me in confidence, in darkness. Dark rooms for dark times, dark words for dark deeds. I trust I make myself obscure.

I can see by your look that you have never seen one of my kind before. 'A talking lion? How absurd' you wish to say. But here I am, talking just as well as a... judicial officer say, indeed, that is what I am.

I am going to tell you something that is vary disturbing, sit down, there is no immediate danger. I just wanted to tell someone about this dreadful thing that has happened. You have some time before your coach arrives, please humor me.

Lions have ruled here in this ancient African valley since the time of Rome. Legend has it that settlers of that great nation were the first to teach lions the ways of civilization. Sadly, most of our prides were sent to their deaths in distant coliseums before the Romans discovered that we were as intelligent as they. They taught the remaining handful of us the wonders of human speech and how to read books. In exchange we acted as powerful warriors, hunters and scouts for the leagons.

Men have always recognized lions as noble beasts, kings and rulers among animals. But we are greater, larger and keener than all other lions. The Romans soon found that we possessed the virtues of justice, honesty, benevolence, loyalty, and foresight in greater measure than even the best of men. And so, in time, they set us lions up as rulers over them, as guardians and care takers, as civic planers. We lived side by side with man, abandoning the harsh life of the savanna for the house and home, for books, music and tea.

And so it has been to this day, humans can trust us more than each other, our government is free of corruption. As the saying goes: 'one can always trust a lion!' -sigh- Or so I thought, until last week. A friend of mine, a young lion by the name of sir Azerb, came to call.

I had not seen him for at least a year, and in that time he had grown immensely large and strong. He had always been big, about seven hundred pounds I would wager, but now there was no telling. He carried his new weight with grace, energy and charm, I wondered if he had come to court me, (we lions live mostly solitary lives from one another, preferring the company of humans), but I was only flattering myself, as it soon became clear he had something troubling on his mind.

He seemed to be agitated by the presence of my servants, so I dismissed them early. As soon as they were gone, Azerb lay down on the satin couch (I heard the timbers creak under his bulk) and said to me a slightly quavering voice, "Justice Maria, I have a confession."

He paused, tried to speak, but his voice caught in his mouth. "Out with it already!" I urged. At last he hesatantly began, "I-I have been, eh, disposing of my humans..." I was confused "You mean you have been deporting them?" (I seemed to recall he worked with the customs service) "No, no," he said "for the last year I have been, that is to say, er, um, e-eating them."

My immediate reaction was laughter, surely he was joking. But I gasped when I saw the look in his eye. "Holy Savannah! H-how could you?" I asked incredulously. Taking a deep breath he began to explain to me how it began.

The first was Patra, the one who started it all. She was a delightful young lady, and had tended Azerb since she was but a girl of ten. They had met on the street and she had offered to comb his fresh little mane. She was now a burgeoning woman, vary buxom and happy, and he, a lion in the prime of life.

She drew looks of many a man, but looks from Azerb most of all. Now it is not unheard of for a lion to love a lady, or man a lioness. And Patra was by all accounts vary desirable. But where as men only longed after parts of her, Azerb wanted all of her. Not to bed as might have been thought by some, but to eat.

Not a day passed when, in polite conversation, she would not unwittingly show some limb sliding from beneath her garments, an arm or leg, some soft pink bit of strong or soft flesh. His teeth would quiver at the thought of sinking into such plumpness, and the simple thought would send a wave, no, a flood of thick hot drool into his mouth. The sight of the ample swell beneath the neck of her dress was torture. At such times of salivation he would hastily excuse himself and flee from her presents lest she see his true craving.

Yes, he was appalled and frightened at first by this craving. Lions do not eat humans, it is not even a written law, it is higher, just simply unthinkable. But he thought it, day and night. If he had come to me at this point and confessed, I could have helped him. But oddly he did not feel ashamed, in fact, the idea of eating Patra seemed perversely right to him, as if gulping down that poor girl simply to satiate a days hunger was as natural as picking a flower.

He began to plot for the impossible. His biggest problem was the result of such an action. Robust though Patra was, she was no match for the seven hundred pound feline. However, we lions have no good way to clean up after such an abomination, lacking those most useful thumbs of yours. We depend on you humans to clean up after us, so a gory mess in the parlor was out of the question, he would be found out. But we lions are very clever, and Azerb not least of all. Late at night he practiced opening in jaws wary wide, so as to increase the span of his mouth to levels not thought possible in polite society. Day by day he secretly practiced, and waited for the right moment.

Then one day Petra announced that she was moving away from the valley to seek her fortune in London. Many were dismayed by this, and Azerb most of all. He pleaded with her not to go, but to no avail. Sometimes in our bleakest hour ideas come to us. So Azerb found a desperate way to turn fortune to his favor. He invited Patra to dine with him one last time, the vary night of her departure. They sat in one of his private rooms, lion and girl, supping on a soup and chatting. At last the lion sat back and said he could eat no more, and she said she really must be going. Azerb suddenly flinched and said politely "Oh dear, one of those dreadful chicken bones has gotten lodged in my back teeth"

"Oh, don't fret" she said with a free smile "I'll get it out". So it was that the lion got his pray to lean into his mouth. Now, so you will not think that Patra was a fool (surely you would not have done the same) I will remind you that lions have no thumbs, so if something gets stuck where our claws cant get at it, we need assistance, this is a traditional need. Also, she trusted him completely, the kind of trust that comes after ten years of friendship, and she wished to help him one last time before she left. Azerb know all of this, and took complete advantage of her.

The night was vary warm, she was in flimsy thin dress through which the heat her body passed freely. The lion sat back on his hind legs and placed his strong paws against her side, warm and forbinded.

At first she was confused, thinking it a friendly hug perhaps, but then he lunged his body onto hers and closed his mouth (his huge, wet, drooling mouth) about her exposed shoulders. Her startled cry was muffled. She instinctively kicked her legs against his soft, furred underbelly, which, she now must have known, had room for much more than a cup of soup.

Azerb growled and dug his claws in, getting a grip on his large vigorous victim. Opening again he lunged down further, felling her squirm desperately in his hold as she was forced into his rank pulsing throat. Lunging and biting he worked his way down. Once she nearly escaped, and when he reached her wide hips he nearly despaired of ever getting satisfaction. But in the end his lips slid up and over her soft yet considerable buttocks, after that it was easy.

Siting upright, he tilted his lion head back, human calves protruding form between his lips. He ran his raspy tongue over them once, as if to tickle and tease. Then he gulped and sealed her doom. The load of subtle human flesh slid straight down to his stomach.

Azerb told me he cried out as he felt her go down. These are his own words,"I instinctively placed my paw over my quickly filling stomach. It was horrible but thrilling as the new weight in me descended smoothly down and caused my belly to elastically distend out into a conspicuous roundness. All that shifting of weight within me was unsettling, for a moment I just sat there, paw on my feral reward, finding my new center of balance. Then I felt the sensations wash over me. I was so full! never had I been so satiated in all my life! The feeling of it was amazing and voluptuously intoxicating. A smile crept slowly over my lips and I purred. Patra was mine now, she would tempt me no more."

As if at the thought of her, that gorged beast felt an odd shift and slide within in him as the his hapless pray suddenly began to struggle, uselessly as against fate of being digested alive in the dank bowels of the lion. Surprised and amused by this he dropped to all fours,his newly gained weight to jostleing and swaying in a sleek, heavy budge beneath him. Slowly, drunkenly, he waddled over to a couch and awkwardly climbed up. He lay on his back, feeling his warm fullness cradled in his lap. He rubbed his tight, full belly with callused paws hoping to provoke his victim into one last futile round of struggles. He shamefully admitted that such cruel actions delighted him, and the deep, internal, live and willful thrashing a gave him a pleasure that was terribly erotic. He moaned deeply at every little twitch.

His plan had worked, not a drop of blood had escaped him, not a scrap of clothing. For all anyone would know Petra was in London. But he had not counted on the effect of this dark meal, which had only truly just begun. Could he even handle such a load? Lions had for centuries eaten little, no more food than a man would eat. This was made possible by their sedentary lifestyle. Now, however, he demanded of his bowels to handle a whole creature, un chewed and still living! "Surely" he thought, she would give him indigestion, all those bones, flesh and hair. He looked down at the unseemly budge in dismay, "surly I will be sick" he thought.

But as the hours passed he felt no more pain than a little awkwardness. From beneath the sleek tight budge occasionally and thunderously emitted rich, fluid gurgles as gallons of liquids shifted about, but actually it felt rather pleasant. Sometimes there would be a minute of strain and distress, but he would inevitably just shift the gluttonous weight of his silky bulk to another position on the couch and belch, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, but always heavily.

The glorious feeling of rich fullness remained with him, and he could not stop purring and twitching his golden tail. He had difficulty explaining to me why it felt so very wondrous without resorting to embarrassing sexual analogies. The best he could do was to say it felt like a incredibly full bladder that one had just begun to relieve, only, of course, the sensation in his case went on a and on for hours. Never was he troubled by guilt, in fact, to him it seemed that in a odd way, Patra deserved to be lion food, if only for being so eatable.

Patra failed to achieve any retribution for her cruel demises. For Azerb soon fell into a deep sleep, lisning to the electric fan overhead lazily beating the languid night air. He enjoyed a painless, and really vary pleasing digestion of her. His strong, wide bowels managed the momentous task with great efficiency.

He awoke at sunrise and gave a great toothy yawn. He stretched his body and rolled onto his back. Placing a paw over his belly into which he had, only last night, sent the plump young lady to her demise. The obscene budge there was only slightly abated, but beneath his sleek fur he could feel that it was no longer firm and solid, but had become soft and fluid, though still very tight. He batted it playfully and watched it lazily jostle about.

He felt invigorated this morning, more then ever before. He could feel new vitality being defused about his body, to his astonishment he found that some parts of him were becoming slightly larger and stronger. His forelegs, his jaws, hind legs, and especialy his...well, no need for you to know about that. The point was that eating human flesh was proving vary worthwhile.

Just then he heard a servant knock on the door. He gave a start, would they know? The servant entered to find the lion crouched in a dark corner with is back turned. "sir?" he asked, "I came to consult you about the dinner arraignments for this evening." The diner! he had forgotten about it, lots of people would be there, he would be found out. "Cancel it!" he cried in the moment of panic.

"But sir-?"

"um, on second thought, go through with it, but leave me here, I have lots of uh..." His stomach gurgled softly "ah...reading to do" "in the dark sir?" "Uh, its a kind of meditation" he said, "now go, leave me."

The confused servant left. Azerb sat down to think, he felt like going for a run, but dismissed the idea for the present. A horrible thought crossed his mind: He had just eaten well over one hundred lbs of raw meat, and as his digestion of it terminated, it would demand the inevitable. But he could not go to the human latrine outback, surly he would fill it to overflowing with his load, and apart from being uncivil, perhaps there would be,-he shuddered- recognizable evidence of his crime. This also made the river an unelectable possibility.

This dilemma troubled him more and more throughout the day, until the guests began to arrive and he put it out of his mind. The dinner was a grand event, and Azerb sat at the head of the long candle-lit table, just as polite and noble as you please. All went well until a gentleman raised his cup and said "Here's to Patra: we wished she would stay, but cause she didn't, lets have something to remember her by. " "here here" cried the guests. It was just then that Azerb, and he says it was completely unintentional, gave them a massive yet completely silent reminder they would indeed never forget.

Starting at the lion's end of the long table, ladies in tight corsets began fainting, gentleman cried out and pressed napkins to there faces, the decorative flowers wilted in their stands. People further down the table stood up in alarm and asked what was wrong. Then their eyes opened wide and watered before they also doubled over, gaging at the stench. This progression continued all the way down the long table to the vary last lady, who fainted backwards off her chair.

All eyes tuned to their massive host, who grinned sheepishly and said he thought the spiced gravy was having "an effect" on him. He politely exceed himself and left, but as his huge flank was disappearing through the door, his tail flicked up and he released another explosive tide of stench into the room. Needless to say, no one stayed to finish their meal.

The whole affair with Patra was quite dreadful. But she was only the first. Azerb devoured many others before he confessed to me, I am going to record them in this book, "The Further Confessions of a lion" But I can see that you are not up to hear them now, just one of his monestrous escapades seem to have upset you.

"Was he ever brought to justice?" you ask. Actualy, no. You see, well, his story gave me ideas, ideas from my own feral past, I am a vary large lioness you see, that is to say, if his story gets out-- others might come under suspicion. Well of course I'm not afraid of you telling anyone, after all, the door is locked, and, like I said, I'm very large, no one will know.