International Incedent
Mateo should count himself lucky! After a drunken night on a college trip, the fox finds himself captured by a hunting party of hungry jaguars. The terrified fox doesn't quite understand that the speckles on his belly fulfill an ancient prophecy, and the jaguar tribe treat him like a living god! All the food he can eat, and plenty of relaxing massage. And they even plan to throw a big feast to honor him. How lucky. :3
Warning! Contains:
M/M Sex
Non-Con
Fattening
Cooking
Snuff
Just a heads up on this anonymous commission, I wrote this one with the intent that different fonts signified different languages. Keep that in mind as you read. And for that same reason I don't recommend using third party programs that might change the font on you. This one was fun, though man it was hard balancing plot and porn. Hopefully you all enjoy!
Written by Choice Cuts Deli
Anonymous Commission | March 2022 | 6842 Words
"Ughhhh, my head..." Mateo snorted, his long, pointy snout bubbling up a little mucky mud from the riverside. Dense foliage above him meant it took until nearly mid-day for the sun to beat down with all its strength upon his orange-furred head, the thick palm fronds of jungle trees affording the hungover red furred fox a few precious hours to sleep off his exhaustion. He certainly needed it. Picking himself up off the muddy edge of a jungle riverbed, Mateo could only wonder how on earth he got here. "Wh- What happened last night?"
With the world still spinning all around him, the filth-covered fox groaned as he tried to wipe the gooey mud off his clothes and fur, eventually giving up and wading into the thigh-deep river. As the cool, rushing stream washed away last the gunk and filth, he thought long and hard about what happened last night. Mateo was on a college trip, visiting a nature preserve deep in the jungle. The opportunity to study abroad was put on by his college's engineering department as a summer course credit; it was a well-intentioned attempt to teach sustainability principals to the young students. They did not, however, expect the chaos that would come. Mateo might have been an average-built fox, but he was wily and rambunctious. Central defender for the college football team, Mateo became the unofficial leader of a few other soccer players on the trip, and none of them took it seriously. After all, it was just a field trip for credit? How hard could it be?
Brushing the grit and grime out of his beautiful orange fur, the vulpine started to piece together what happened the night before. It was another boring evening at the nature preserve, but the football team's sweeper was bragging all day he was going to liven things up. Just after lights out, he and the right wing came back with their arms full of local liquor bottles swiped from the preserve's canteen. The night was a blur of laughing and drinking, one that Mateo could barely recall. He remembered saying he was going out for a piss, but not before he took one last shot... then two... As the liquor washed over his mind, he blacked out, only coming to momentarily when he stubbed a toe or lost his balance in a thicket. Flush with liquor, the little fox stumbled around the darkness of the jungle before finally coming to rest at the banks of this strange and far-off river.
"I can't be that far," he groaned aloud to nobody, his stomach curled in knots as he laid out his scuffed and ripped clothes upon a large flat rock by the river. "I guess if I follow this river, I'll eventually hit something important?" he reasoned with himself, the pudgy vulpine shaking his head as he tugged at his underwear waistband, still clinging to the hope that he only wandered a few yards from camp. Smoothing out his fur while he waited for his clothes to dry, the fox instinctively traced his paw between the four brown dots of fur that dotted his stomach, the little tufts creating an almost kite-shaped pattern surrounding his belly button. "Ugh, I overdid it," he grunted, flopping back on the rock alongside his clothes. "Fuck, I just want to go back to sleeeeeeep." A gentle rustle perked the tip of his ear up, the triangular digit swiveling before the hungover student had finished his thought. "And for the world to stop spinn- hmmpfh?"
Rolling lazily over onto his belly, Mateo scanned the dense jungle tree line, the foliage making it hard for him to spot anything. Not that he could with his vision still wobbly. But something seemed to catch his eye; a flitting movement of yellow behind the fronds of a broad-leaved fern. It was there one moment, gone the next, broken up by little spatters of black that looked almost identical to the darkness of the forest canopy. He almost passed it off as a trick of his hungover mind, until he saw it happen again... and again... this time accompanied by a low hissing growl.
Eyes widening, the disheveled fox gasped as he watched a beast emerge from the jungle. A heavy paw squished into the silty sand next to the rock he lay upon. Mateo followed it up, practically gasping as he stared a towering jaguar in the face. He was stunning; proud and tall, the man was adorned with braided bands of hemp upon his arms and thighs, each held in place by sheer muscle. He was young too, perhaps only a half-decade older than Mateo. But most terrifying was the feline's hips. Clad in a hempen loin cloth, the jaguar did not seem to care that he was already sporting a half-chub between his thighs, the beastly creature taking an instant fascination in Mateo. Mateo could say the same about his erstwhile savior; the little fox felt his heart throb in his chest as the brutish beast blocked out the sun above, his back guarded by no less than five other yellow-and-black felines, each carrying menacing looking spears and bows.
"Hah, look! I told you it was docile," the towering jaguar boomed, speaking in a language foreign to Mateo's ears. "Even plated itself on the rock for us."
"I- H- Hello," Mateo whined, holding up his paws. "I- I got lost from th-"
"Meat doesn't talk, crimson-furred one," the jaguar snarled, hefting up his spear in both paws. Threatening Mateo with the tip, the jaguar elicited a terrified squeak from the little vulpine.
"What is that thing?" called one of the jaguars from the back of the hunting party. "That last squawk sounded like a bird?"
"Kinda looks like a rat," another chimed in. "That long snout's probably got some good cheek meats and tongue."
"Please, I- I- I'm lost!" Mateo yipped, whining as he fell backwards onto his rump, kicking his clothes off the rock in the process. "I was at the Nature Preserve! I just need to get back home."
"You talk too much, meat," the leader snarled, flipping his spear around in his paws. In a flash, Mateo felt himself bashed upside the head by the wooden pole, only to feel the tip press threateningly into his throat. Afraid to even breathe, Mateo whined what he thought might be his last breath, that is, until a resonant voice called out from behind.
"Aaru! Stop!" One of the jaguars cried, his voice the only thing that stilled the bloodthirsty hunter's hand. "You can't kill him!"
"I am hungry, Jalen!" The beast growled back, a bite to his inflection as he stared down the heavy-hipped feline who rose to challenge him. "The people of the Bramble Union are hungry. It is my duty to feed them, even if this one's a scrawny catch."
"Do you not see, oh wise Chieftain?" the thick-gutted jaguar rumbled, a little snark tinted on his voice. "How could you be so foolish! This one has been blessed by the stars." Reaching down, the pudgy feline planted a firm paw against Mateo's throat, a knotted palm-cord of hemp and reed choking him as he felt the feline's other paw brush his belly fur. "Is this not the mark of Volans! The Crimson-Furred One. The guiding constellation of our Union. It marks this creature!"
"Pfft, I could care less about your drivel when our people need food," Aaru grumbled, gripping his spear a bit tighter.
"The gods sent this being to you as a test, Chieftain," Jalen snarled. "Do not disrespect them."
"Hunger can make a man do terrible things," Aaru rumbled, pulling back his spear as he readied to strike.
"At least bring him to the city! He- He could be a feast!"
"A feast!" Mateo mimicked the unknown words out of fear, raising a paw in feeble self-defense while hoping against hope the words were something that would save his skin. Aaru could not help but smirk at how ignorant the little fox was, the moment causing him to slip his grip on the spear.
"Allow me a night to pray at the temple," Jalen huffed. "I shall ask the gods for their guidance. He could be a great feast to celebrate the creation of the Union! And... with the gods' grace... the end of the famine."
Growling, Aaru finally relented, lowering his spear down Mateo's body, first using the point to trace the little speckles on his belly, before using it to probe at his tight-fitting briefs. "One night," he grumbled, motioning for his fellow felines to start tying up the strange creature. "The gods had better share their meal," Chieftain Aaru rumbled, teasing the boy's fear-boner through the sheer white linen, "because our people hunger."
Bound tight at the wrists and ankles, Mateo had a wooden pole slipped through his bonds before being unceremoniously lifted. With his belly hanging down and his arms and legs bowed behind him, the captured vulpine could only swing helplessly, forced to stare at the handsome ass of the nearly naked jaguar holding the front of the pole he was carried upon. Left to hang limp like a sack of grain, the mewling fox struggled and whimpered the whole march back through the jungle. As night fell, he found himself exhausted, his arms and legs burning with hot lactic acid from hours in this stressful position. The night's darkness only kept his destination obscured, little pinpoints of fire casting flickering light upon strange wooden huts and stone edifices.
At long last, the hungover vulpine found himself tossed unceremoniously into a simple thatch hut for the evening, the door nothing more than a frame of sticks with a reed-covered locking mechanism.
"Y- You can't be serious..." Mateo grunted, huffing as he inched his exhausted body along the dusty, compacted-dirt ground of the thatched hut towards what appeared to be a pile of straw standing in for a bed. Laughing as he settled in, the fox could not help but add aloud, "A kit could get out of this thing!"
After waiting for the hunting party to leave, and taking a little time to recover from his sore muscles, Mateo worked at his wrist restraints, only to find that they were far too well knotted for him to escape. Still hungover, the fox did what he could to work his ankles out of their restraints, taking nearly an hour to fray the strong hemp ropes used to bind his legs. Half-freed, he decided to go for the door, his paws rustling at the archaic lock design as he tried to make it work.
"Quiet down in there, meat," a gruff voice called from outside the hut, bringing Mateo's escape attempt to a halt. The simple thatch building acted as a giant alarm. Any rustling would alert the guard posted outside. But Mateo was as brave as he was unobservant. Deciding to try again once the moment had passed, the fox opted to try digging at the base of the wall. His clumsy, haphazard attempt was cut short as the door latch swung open and a burly black panther wielding an obsidian-tipped club stepped through the door. "Hey!" Snarling, the feline pounced in a flurry of glossy black fur, the whole thatched hut shaking as Mateo was wrestled to the floor. "Fucking meat got loose." Snarling, the feline managed to yank the fox's bound fore-paws behind his head, quickly tying them off to first one, then the other leg, leaving him balanced in an awkward hog tie in a heap upon the floor. Satisfied, the guard gave a firm kick to Mateo's side, before slamming closed the door to the hut, leaving him to sleep on the cold ground for a second night in a row.
"How did I know that's what the gods would tell you, Jalen?" Aaru growled, pursing his boxy muzzle at the pudgy jaguar, the high priest of the tribe still adorned with the ornate golden armbands and the long, ornately woven robe he had used during his prayer vigil. "You already seemed to have made up your mind about this one."
"You doubt the wisdom of the gods?" Jalen's expression fell, his eyes narrowing. "They who guided our tribes to come together in union?"
"The Bramble Union is nothing without our people, and our people will die without food."
"I have seen their guidance," Jalen sighed, lifting his arms up to the beautifully carved ceiling of the temple, the walls adorned with stucco frescos and painted in rich colors. "They will provide. We need only keep the living embodiment of Volans alive till the height of the constellation's ascent. Then we shall feast upon him in thanks."
"Tch, a constellation that hasn't appeared for many, many years." Sitting back upon the Chieftain's throne, situated just before the temple's altar, Aaru glanced back over his shoulder to make sure nobody else was in the room. "You know," he shot a wry look back to Jalen, "If you wanted a concubine, you could have the pick of anyone in the tribe."
Jalen's expression turned from one of piety to one of deep embarrassment, his face flushing deep enough to show under his yellow fur. "M- My Chieftain, I- I..." Realizing they were alone, the high priest huffed out his boxy muzzle as he shot back, "Not like you don't fuck your meals when you take them for yourself, Aaru." A broad grin crawled across the Chieftain's face as he shook his head at the crass remark.
"Alright, alright... Fine. I owe you, my brother, for helping me become head of the Union. I will give you until the next full moon to prove the gods will provide. You may keep the creature. Feed it. Enjoy it. Train it for its feast." Standing from his throne, Aaru narrowed his eyes upon the pudgy jaguar's frame. "But if the gods do not provide, the Bramble Union will not starve." Prodding a finger into Jalen's ribs, the Chieftain chuckled as he added, "...and with your girth, I think you would cater quite the feast."
When the temple guards came for Mateo, at the first sign of light, he whimpered and screamed like a terrified pup. It might have had something to do with the long night held in a stress position. Or it might have been that the fox was truly terrified about these strange and foreign creatures. Dragged out of the little thatch hut, Mateo had his legs unbound, forced to march nearly naked through the streets. But this strange place, filled with growling felines and their hungry glares, was not the tropical tribal world he had seen in the movies. Thatched huts on the outskirts of the city gave way to more finely built homes. Sturdy wattle and daub structures lined the tamped-earthen streets. Market stalls sold their wares, the sellers gawking at the strange underwear-clad fox being led through the streets. A few curious kittens even attempted to snatch at the fox's bushy tail, quickly harried off by their mothers, much to the bemusement of the temple guards.
As they approached the city center, Mateo could see a looming complex built of heavy stonework. The road ahead was lined with stone and earthen clay houses, their windows and verandas lined with onlookers. It did not help that he could not understand a word anyone said, the onlooking jaguars occasionally giving their muzzles a lick or baring their fangs as the temple guards announced High Priest Jalen's proclamation.
To his surprise, Mateo found himself not headed for some sacrificial altar, but instead a set of baths deep within the complex. Handed off to some acolytes, the fox was given a full wash from head to toe, with special attention paid to his groin. Special orders from the High Priest. Primped and adorned with a garland of flowers, the fox was given a freshly fitted loincloth in place of his soiled underwear. Mateo was hesitant at first, especially when he realized the thin flap of cloth did not fully cover his manhood, his dangling balls and tip of his cockhead constantly peeking out. But he could not argue with the attendants. His protests quelled, the nervous fox was brought to the High Priest's chambers where a beautiful meal was laid out before him. It was not lavish by any means, but it was far more than he could possibly think about eating. Hefty sweet potatoes, savory flatbreads, slices of grilled meat of some unidentifiable nature, and delicate rice grains flavored with exotic peppers. And in the middle of the spread a very large portion of a strange foodstuff was laid out. It was mushy, yet crisp in some areas. He was unsure exactly what the dish was, but there was a lot of it piled high upon a single platter. Jalen stepped up from behind, planting a paw on his charge's shoulder, the other slowly wrapping around his waistline to tease the freshman fifteen sitting on his midriff.
"You may eat whatever you wish, Volans," he rumbled in his native tongue, knowing that the college student could not understand a word. "But do not displease the gods. You'll finish every bite."
Mateo found himself living the strangest life of luxury, all while imprisoned within the temple's walls. Any attempt to escape the burly feline guards who kept constant watch over him was met with stern punishment and a night locked in a cramped wicker cage. Any attempts to reason with them were simply scoffed at in their native tongue. The only person who showed any form of interest in the terrified and confused little fox was Jalen.
The pudgy high priest visited multiple times a day, almost like clockwork based on the position of the sun. At sunrise he would lead Mateo to the big stone altar to pray over the loincloth-clad boy. Next came a hearty breakfast, including as much of the mashed meal as he could stomach. He learned it was a fattening staple dish, a mash of boiled or roasted plantains and breadfruit, mixed with lard and meat scraps. It did not take long for Mateo to realize he was gaining a few extra pounds on this strict diet, though it did not help that Jalen would constantly measure and appraise the fox, using both knotted ropes and a crude sort of balances, the same used to weigh grain rations during times of famine. After lunch, again with more mush than Mateo could fit in his gut, Jalen would spend much of the afternoon teaching his charge. At first the lessons were simplistic. Words and phrases for food, water, bodily functions, pain and need. Immersed in this world, Mateo quickly picked up a broken dialect, even getting the high priest to understand a few words of his own language.
Now and then he would be taken for a procession down the main thoroughfares of the city. Every trip out from the temple showed Mateo that the lives of the people of the Bramble Union were visibly changing. On the first shy and nervous walk about the city's center, Mateo saw the people of the city were in a bad way, their hungry eyes glaring longingly at the succulent hunk of flesh being treated with the reverence of a sacred cow. He even recognized a few of the rude jeers shouted by the more troublesome inhabitants - they were the same derogatory phrases spat at him by the temple guards. But night after night, Mateo would awaken to the sounds of hunting parties returning to the great jungle kingdom. Their whoops and hollers carried through the night as the bountiful forest provided fresh meat and plants for the tribal union. It was nothing short of a miracle, and Aaru was quick to claim that the overflowing market stalls were all thanks to their living gift from the gods. Subsequent processions were far more favorable, with the city's feline denizens rushing to the roadside to view the holy creature.
Life continued like this for some time, Mateo continued over-eating while the city grew fat and flush with plenty. Until one night Mateo found himself rattled awake by Jalen in the dead of .
"Volans! Volans! It has returned! Volans!" He shouted, the hefty feline beaming with ecstasy from ear to ear.
"Nnngh," Mateo grunted, trying to remember his adopted language. "Yes, yes, Volans. Crimson-furred one. That is the name you gave me. I am Volans. Fuck, can I just go back to sleep? Yes, yes, you call me that."
"No you dumb livestock! Volans! Come, come!" Dragging Mateo off his straw-lined bed, Jalen dragged him up to the temple's altar where he could see the beautiful starry sky above. Pointing wildly slightly to the left of the sky, Jalen seemed agitated about something that Mateo could not make out. But he knew something was wrong when the confused temple guards also began to murmur, some dropping to their knees in prayer.
"What? I... I don't know what you're saying? Um, where is Volans?" Mateo asked, only to have Jalen point to the distinctive patches on his belly before pointing back up to the sky.
"The stars! They returned!" Squinting, Mateo was just barely able to make out four feint dots outlined in a shimmering red hue, a feint kite shaped constellation in the sky. But before he could ask anything more, Jalen was off, rushing to a large fresco that adorned the walls of the temple. "Once, many darkened moons ago, there were four tribes of these lands." Gesticulating towards the painting, Mateo tried his best to follow the frantic jaguar's descriptions, his words flowing fast and full of strange phrases he'd not heard before. "Our great leader Ekta played a trick upon the four tribes. Dashing with speed, he rushed through the forest in one night, racing through each village and causing havoc. The tribes gave chase, their greatest warriors rushing almost naked to catch the impudent little kitten."
Mateo's eyes widened as he read into each picture on the painting, the images making clearer the story as he came to its conclusion.
"Under the darkest moon," Jalen continued, "Ekta led the four tribes in chase until they came together at a thicket. Each tribe's warriors argued and fought over who would kill the upstart troublemaker, until..." Giving Mateo's thick midsection a tap, his clawed pawtip teasing the boy's fur pattern with his chunky paw. "The stars of Volans appeared overhead. And the tribes agreed to put aside their differences there in the thicket of brambles." Pointing out the temple's window, Jalen grinned as he added, "The stars disappeared after the Union was formed, but now! Now they are back!" Swiping some ash from one of the fire braziers lighting the temple, the jaguar smeared the constellation back onto the fresco, before proclaiming. "Because you are here!"
"That is pretty," Mateo said, unsure if his lack of language skills held the right weight for such an important story. "How do - ah fuck, um... How do make happy as community?"
Cocking his head softly, the jaguar smiled a toothy grin as he responded, "We cook the crimson-furred creature and feast." Except that is not exactly what he said. The exact words were, "We cook Volans and feast."
"...you cook..." Mateo swallowed softly as the jaguar nodded furiously in agreement before even hearing the rest of the words. "Me?"
"We cook you, Volans. A great feast. Reunite you with the stars and celebrate the gods' favor given to our people."
Mateo took a step backwards from the looming high priest, then two. Nearly tumbling backwards over one of the temple guards who was lost in prayer, the fox whined as he felt the lean and muscular jaguar brace against his calves, the guardian keeping him from running off anywhere. But Jalen was not concerned with the fox's failed bid for freedom, he was more intrigued with what was happening under the boy's loincloth. The most frustrating part of Mateo's stay had been a strict prohibition on playing with himself. This was firmly enforced by the high priest, who was informed any time he was caught jerking off. Rather than scold the hormonally-charged fox, however, Jalen would personally edge and tease the frustrated college student to orgasm, forcing him to endure what sometimes felt like hours of stimulation to milk the 'sweet nectar' from him. In reality, Jalen just enjoyed making the fatty fox struggle, whimper and plead for his orgasm, and what better way to control his body than to also control his erection. But as the boy struggled in the grip of the temple guard, now joined by a second to ensure he was restrained, Jalen could not help but realize that the peril had caused him to flag a thick bulge tenting out his loincloth.
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait, please... please I... fuck..." The moment he felt one of the guardsmen slip a knotted cord around his restrained wrists, Mateo pleaded with all his might in his broken knowledge of the native tongue. "I'll swallow your scepter!"
"Pfft... You'll suck my cock?" Jalen replied, correcting him on the proper pronunciation of such a crass phrase.
"Y- Yes... Please... I'll tongue to balls if can leave!" The fox's whining eyes cast up to the pudgy jaguar's face, the feline licking his chops as he stepped forwards. As the bemused temple guard forced the bound fox to his knees, the high priest growled softly as he slipped his right paw down upon the vulpine's scalp, carefully running his claws through Mateo's headfluff while sliding his beautifully woven regalia off to one side.
"We'll see. Open, meat," the jaguar commanded, his throbbing, barbed shaft pulsing between his thighs. Realizing his options had run out, Mateo swallowed softly and nodded in shy agreement before sliding his long and pointy muzzle forwards down the fat cock before him. "Mnnpfh... I've... I've never been blown by a living god before," Jalen growled, licking his chops as he felt the bulbous cock head throb deep inside of the boy's throat, the stiffening barbs tickling and raking the tight confines of Mateo's throat all the while.
Bobbing his head back and forth, his nose pressed deep into the high priest's musky groin, Mateo tried to focus on doing a good job. It wasn't easy. All the while, the doomed fox felt the attending guards tighten the hemp cords around his ankles, knees and even his midsection, locking the terrified boy in a bound and kneeling pose. But he stuck to the hope that he might be obedient enough to escape death if he suckled like a pig.
Raking his claws through Mateo's headfur, Jalen groaned as he jammed his shaft down the boy's throat, the tight squeeze compacting the jaguar's barbs, sending shivers down his spine every time he pulled back out. It didn't take long before Mateo tasted copper on his tongue and throat, each swallow tinted with a little blood as Jalen's ravaging shaft plowed in and out without any care for his boy's wellbeing. Tears began to drip down the fox's supple features as he heard the high priest make a command to his attending guards, one of them casually slitting an obsidian dagger under the fox's waistband. In a swift movement, the musky loincloth that kept Mateo mostly modest during his visit was stripped away, a pile of torn fabric daubed in precum hanging off the tip of his bouncing cock. Mateo's scared-stiff shaft was visibly smaller now, almost forty pounds of added weight creating a cute little fat pad that hid about an inch of his cock from view. The sight of his emasculated charge, humbled and naked, suckling on his cock, only brought Jalen's lust to its edge. Hissing out his muzzle, the jaguar snarled a soft grunt before spurting his load down Mateo's throat. Bumping his pudgy gut against the fox's mouth, Jalen grunted as he thrusted through the warmth of his afterglow, forcing the boy to clean his shaft before kneeling in front of the emasculated canine.
"My succulent feast-to-be," Jalen growled, licking his chops as he groped over Mateo's cock, ripped loincloth and all. Giving it a stroke with his paw, he whispered. "It'll be a pity to lose such a talented mouth. But the gods must be appeased." Turning his gaze up to the guards, he hissed one last order. "Bind him tight. There's to be no 'messes' for him. He'll meet the gods with a smile on his face and a full load in his balls." Chuckling, he added under his breath, "Just how Aaru takes his cock-meat."
As the sun began to set, just one day after the re-appearance of the constellation, the entire city waited with bated breath. Evening bustle ended abruptly as shimmering orange hues gave way to darkening purples. One by one, the stars began to appear, the brightest twinkling through the twilight first. When the night sky finally turned a dark obsidian black, each of the four stars of the constellation Volans flickered to life, clear and visible.
A mighty roar, a decidedly feline roar, filled the streets of the great city, the whole of the Bramble Union alight with celebration that the gods truly gave their favor to their united tribes. And none were happier about this than Chieftain Aaru, the proud and haughty leader walking with a sort of swagger as he approached the great marketplace. Adorned with all the fineries of royalty, the jaguar's flashy yellow and black fur shimmered with gold and gemstones in the light of a roaring bonfire, a communal hearth to celebrate the return of the constellation and the feast that would be the gods' messenger.
Jalen stood watch nearby the roaring blaze, having kindled the flame early in the day and ensured that a layer of coals had burned down evenly under the sacred hearth. As he organized temple acolytes, ordering them to arrange water-soaked sticks in a grid pattern over the coals, he paused to bend his knee to the great Aaru. "Chieftain Aaru," Jalen said, a smile crossing his face as he was quickly given permission to rise. "The preparations are nearly complete."
"You were right as always, Jalen," Aaru grinned. "The gods provided."
"I promised you would get to eat Volans," the high priest chuffed, nudging him with an elbow. "Have some faith sometimes, oh wise one."
"Pfft, I hope you've not damaged him too much. Being his last night alive and all, I'd have guessed he'll be walking funny."
"Not in the least!" Jalen winked, casting a glance over his shoulder before leaning in to whisper, "He stopped whimpering after the fourth round, so I expect he'll put up a good show."
"Please!" A warbling, perhaps even pained cry cut above the sounds of drums and trumpets blaring, the procession already on its way from the temple towards the great bonfire. "You can't!" Mateo screamed, intermixing the native tongue with his own language. "Y- you can't- I need to go back! I have to go back to the Nature Preserve!" Though he was being walked to the main square with his arms bound before him, Mateo looked far worse for wear than when he had come to the city. His beautiful, orange fur was completely shaved off, long red scrape marks covering his body from where the obsidian razors nicked his flesh. In its place, a colorful blend of natural spices were painted onto his body. Whorls of greens, reds and ochre were smeared on by hand. However, it was clear that these were meant to add flavor - a thick red hand print slapped on his ass practically drew the eye to his clenching and squishing tailhole, the rim perfectly lined with a pepper paste that burned his broken pucker.
His terror only intensified the closer he got to the square. As he was brought towards a large wooden table before the great bonfire, Mateo was forced to pass other smaller workstations laden with thick cuts of meat midway through preparation. Except it was not simply meat. Agonized faces of other people stared back at him, pleading for someone, anyone to help. To his left, two wolves in torn clothing were midway being bound in a 69in position, forced to suck each other off as their jaguar chef lit the fires below a heavy earthen oven. To his right, a hog or tapir was halfway through being butchered, thick chunks of flesh skewered on thin wooden rods to grill even while the still-living creature listlessly bled out. Even before he had reached the altar, he could hear the screams of some unfortunate victim crying out in muffled grunts. Off to one side he caught sight of a thick, banana leaf wrapped package being lowered into an earthen pit, two thin rods sticking out one end to ensure the living roast inside could breathe as they began to bury the tender meat in hot earth and sand. The tribe's bountiful hunt was not confined to feral meat. And the terrible state of these creatures suggested that, even if Mateo was treated well, he was still about to receive the most agonized death of his life.
With the literal star of the show approaching them, Jalen motioned for Aaru to take over the ceremonies. As the temple acolytes nudged Mateo up and onto the table, he whimpered as he stared face to face with the beastly jaguar who nearly ended his life so many months ago. Even without his spear, he was no match to resist Chieftain Aaru, especially not after gaining some forty pounds in their captivity while fattening up for tonight's dinner.
"Well, well," the muscular jaguar growled, licking his chops at the sight. "It looks like tonight's gonna be a beautiful roast."
"Please, don't..." Mateo whimpered in the native language, only to feel his jaws opened wide and a carved wooden funnel pushed hard into his throat. Mateo could only stare wide-eyed as he watched multiple baskets of the squishy boiled plantain and breadfruit being brought forward. Terrified, the vulpine began to struggle, only to feel his limbs yanked out from under him, the weight of so many clawed paws keeping him from struggling as a second funnel was fitted into his clenched pucker. All Mateo could do was close his eyes as he felt the first gob of fatty, sticky mush slip down the length of the funnel, tamped through with a wooden pestle. Unable to force the bolus out, Mateo groaned as he swallowed it down, then a second and third. Soon, he felt a cold squish between his rump cheeks, more of the heavy stuffing being fisted in deep. The thick wooden funnels made it impossible for the broken fox to push the ever-growing amounts of stuffing out of his body.
Aaru did not remain idle. His paws lay the heaviest upon Mateo's body. Ostensibly he used this chance to say some incantations and to give thanks to the gods above for their kindness. However, in a more practical sense, he was working to manipulate Mateo's body, squeezing and stroking his flesh with firm paws, coaxing the heavy mass of mushy fruit so that it evenly filled his body. All the while, Aaru enjoyed finding sensitive spots on Mateo's body, particularly happy to feel the boy's cock and balls were throbbing from the overwhelming fear and prostate stimulation. Plucking a ceremonial cord off his wrist band, Aaru used it to firmly tie the boy's pudgy cock off at the very base, the throbbing sausage lewdly poking out from between his over-stuffed belly and the fat pad his marbling had created. All the while, the fever pitch of screams and cries from the other, lesser meals reached their height; the gagged wails of struggling roasts urged Mateo to fight harder, if only to save himself from the same tortured fate.
When the funnels were removed, Mateo nearly managed to spit out a mouthful of stuffing, only to whimper as he felt a fleshy red apple jammed into his mouth to keep him quiet. The same indignity was visited on his rump as a heavy carrot was pushed in till only the green sprig was visible out his hole. In his haze of overfed discomfort, Mateo could only whine as he felt himself lashed to a thick wooden rotisserie. It was brutally effective at restraining a living creature, even if it was deceptively simple. The fox's arms and legs were threaded through cross bars before being tied off, interweaving him with the wooden spit more securely than if he had been skewered.
At Aaru's command, the living messenger of the gods was lifted by the rotisserie pole he was strapped to and carefully placed right in the center of the roaring flames. Mateo could only stare helplessly, frozen in wide-eyed fear as he stared down into the center of the roiling coals. For a moment, the whole plaza seemed to hush, eager felines watching as the fox scrunched his face in a wince at the blast of heat that roared all around him. As Aaru raised his paws to end his incantation, he watched as Mateo's tightly bound cock throbbed as it hung down low to the flame. A thin bead of sweat dripped down the length, intermixing with the precum on his tip. The world seemed to hang as the milky dribble broke loose from the fox's reddening cockhead. The droplet fell straight down, sizzling away in the super-heated air; Before it could fully vaporize into steam, Mateo began to scream into his apple gag, unable to take the heat any longer.
A trumpeting blast from one of the heralds underscored his cries. Soon a cheerful celebration erupted among the hungry crowd of onlooking jaguars as musician blew powerful notes on long reed pipes and conch shells. Aaru motioned for an attendant to begin; the proud feline chef was honored to be sweating next to the fire as he slowly turned the long rotisserie spit. Mateo was thankful to be moving, the slow turn giving the front half of his body the slightest break from the pain. The Chieftain and high priest watched with bated breath as Mateo's reddened body turned towards them, his eyes closed as his head thrashed side to side, wailing into his apple gag. The boy's nipples were already starting to singe, and his cock was pulsing like a sausage expanding in its casing. It didn't help that he could just barely feel the gentle tease of a brush dabbling along the underside of his cock, Aaru happily basting his throbbing shaft and swollen with lush oils to ensure they crisped up beautifully.
The respite from the turning rotisserie was fleeting; the seething hot coals raged under Mateo's body, his previously-shielded sides and back soon had their turn at the flames. At the top of his rotation, Mateo opened his eyes for the last time, staring up at the night sky above. Wisps of embers and choking smoke filled the air. But clear as day, he could see the constellation shining bright in the night, tendrils of smoke reaching skywards, preparing to 'bring his soul to the heavens whence he came.' The fox could feel the tears sizzle on his cheeks, whimpering as he closed his eyes in preparation for the downturn.
Dancing, celebration, music; the Bramble Union cheered their good fortune as the tribe united in thanks once again. And of course, there was plenty of food. As Mateo roasted, his body turning from a bright angry red to a darker, decidedly golden hue, he became aware of succulent, mouth-watering smells wafting up on the smoke. Were his eyes not swollen and cloudy from the heat, the little vulpine might have seen so many beautiful dishes laid out on the wooden grid beneath him, cooking like a sort of natural barbecue. Heavy earthenware pots began to simmer hearty stews. Whole cobs of maize, banana leaves stuffed with fragrant rice, and even thick steaks of unknown meats were laid out to roast, their edges seared with thick char lines. But suspiciously absent was the mush that Mateo was force-fed over so many months. It didn't need to cook beneath him, because it was cooking inside of him. As his nerve endings burnt to a crisp, the roasting fox could still feel the heavy stuffing mixture soaking in his drippings and juices, slowly expanding and distending his bowels as it steamed to perfection. As the boy felt himself slipping off to unconsciousness, his listless and groaning eyes lidding as the heat lulled him off to oblivion, he was shaken awake by one last jolt of agony. The expanding stuffing caused something inside his body - his stomach? His colon? - to burst. Opening his crisped eyelids one last time, Mateo could swear he could see the constellation in the hazy night, before even that too went black.
The celebration continued long into the night, the main course only finished sometime after the darkest of midnight. Mateo's crisp body was served curled up on all fours like a roasted pig, the pudgy fox's eyes stuffed with two sweet cherry tomatoes to provide some added color to the beautifully roasted boy. With side dishes nestled all about, he was a feast for the eyes as much as the ravenous tribe. Yet it would be Aaru who would have the first bite, the Chieftain's pick of the dish. With the help of some attendants, Aaru had the little fox nudged to one side, his slit-open belly spilling steamed plantain and breadfruit stuffing out onto the palm fronds that acted as his serving platter. Lifting a ceremonial dagger to Mateo's cock, the lithe Chieftain carefully carved his cooked-browned shaft off the boy's body, sheath and balls still attached and warm to the touch. Holding aloft the prized meat, Aaru declared to the onlooking tribe that the feast was served, before plunging the juicy shaft into his jaws and taking a firm bite.
Come sun-up, almost nothing was left of Mateo's corpse. Picked clean, the fox's bones were spread across the table after his arms, legs and ribs were passed around to ensure every tribe member received a taste. Bits of sinew and little blobs of stuffing were the most that remained, the longest bones already being bundled up for soup stock. All except for his skull, which was conspicuously missing.
In a quiet room in the temple, Jalen was proudly performing a final, private ritual. Having mounted Mateo's roasted-crisp head in a place of honor, he was busy slowly fucking along the swollen, succulent tongue. "Mnnpfh... Fuck, better than when you were alive," he grunted. "Don't worry, I'll strip your flesh soon. Nobody will know I defiled you one last time..." Sighing, the high priest thought back to when he first met the boy. And a thought crossed his mind. "Hmm... He said he was from some place called Nature Reserve. Perhaps," Jalen grunted, huffing as he casually orgasmed into Mateo's slack jaw, "we should seek out this land... if they're all as delicious as this one."
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