The Puzzle of Puzzle       

The endless waves of the ocean were all the Puma could see, from one end of the horizon to the other.  The only other sight Paul could see were the same four others in the lifeboat that had been with him since the nightmare began weeks ago.  Where a two week cruise turned into an unknown length of time lost at sea.  The lifeboat was big enough to not be too cramped.  And the tropical sun never seemed too hot this time of year.  It would be paradise if they ever did get to one of those sandy beached islands they all were dreaming of.

But for now a more important worry had started to gnaw at them.  The lack of things to gnaw.  The boat initially had about a week of food.  But it was all but used up now.  Perhaps a day.  Perhaps several more if they starved themselves further.  But soon there will be nothing.  Already the squabbles had begun, and things were planning on becoming an even darker mood for the day.  A choice was going to be made that left none of them pleased.  But it wasn't a pleasant choice.

One of the others, a Hyena, was getting his cards ready, shuffling them again and again.  We didn't have straws, but cards would work, and whoever drew the low card.  Well.  Hopefully they would prove tasty.  Well, as tasty as it could get in these awkward times.  Most of us were eying the one 'prey' animal, a poor, nervous squirrel who went by the name Puzzle.  His gray tail was frizzed and wild as he stared at the dancing cards in the hyena's hands.  The rest of us were predators who had seen better times.  A Coyote and a Sable rounded out the group, neither of them wanting to watch, trying to avoid the event as much as possible until needed.  And hoping they were not going to be needed as meat.

The cards shuffled for another half dozen rounds.  Then the Hyena, whose name I seemed to remember as Howard, called us over.  "Arright now, suppose this is it.  So I'm going to lay these down face up for each of us.  Let's keep it simple, Aces low, as ones."

He gives the cards a final cut, then doles out his card.  The card lands face up before him.  A Nine of Diamonds.  He relaxes some, it would be a less likely card to be stuck on the low end.  Next up, Chris watched, his coyote tail flicking urgently.  A Seven of Spades made him bite his lip some, but he would not be the last to be dealt his hand.  His ears turned more pale though as he sat back to await the rest, looking crestfallen.  Puzzle was next, twitching up a storm.  He got the Queen of Hearts, though he seemed just as dismayed at Chris despite such a high card.  It turned to the sable Samuel, who nearly fainted as he got a four of Clubs.  He sat back, staring wide eyed at the card, wobbling in his seat.

Finally it was my turn.  My heart stammered, as I would sentence one of us to death for our meat.  I looked down and felt the world grow slack.  An Ace of spades.  The massive mark unmistakable from any other card.  My death sentence signed as I sat heavily on the wooden deck.  I shivered, but tried to compose myself as the world seemed to spin.  "Will I, er, get a chance to compose a good bye to my family?"

The others cringed, but it was to be expected.  Most of us met once or twice earlier on the trip, talking of family back home.  Or perhaps trying to get settled in a new location.  Though now we would be lucky to get settled in some forgotten island at this rate.  If we even made it to land.  The warm seas and pleasant weather made it all the more frustrating to end my life here, a tropical paradise to die in.

The others gave me an hour to compose myself and write my letter.  It was one of the hardest things to do.  Especially no one wanted to be too close to their meal during this time.  It wasn't really pleasant to chat up your dinner for the next week or so.  I kept my letter brief and punctual.  Nothing flowery, just a "well, bad things happened, better luck to the rest of you" note.  Assuming anyone even found it.  It wasn't my best writing.  The hunger pains didn't help.  And knowing the only source of meat was me, well, made that thought awkward.  But it did not need to be good.  It did not matter much longer.

It felt like an eternity to just pen that simple note.  For a while I even wondered if I would ever finish that grim task.  Perhaps it would become my stay of execution, forced to write a final goodbye forever.  A purgatory of grim writing and foul anticipation.  My body shook in fear of the death soon to come.  Slowly, and with much trepidation, languishing in the silence of the others, I finished my final note and wishes for my family.

As I checked my watched I groaned in disappointment, as only twenty minutes had actually passed.  Twice that amount of time now stood between me and death's embrace.  I wondered if I may just volunteer to perform the grim task  early if the wait grew too bad.  It would be an awkward twist of fate, begging to be put down, rather then be forced with more of this horrible waiting.

My thoughts had decided now would be a lovely time to entertain themselves with the morbid details of how my death may unfold.  Perhaps I'd be bound and dragged under the water for a while, left to drown out of sight like a worm on a hook.  Struggling out of sight until my lungs fill with seawater and I succumb to drowning.  Or maybe I'd be forced to bear my throat for a blade's kiss, to bleed out like livestock until my heart had nothing left to beat with.  Although a sudden hammer strike to the back of my skull could work too, smashing into my brains in one sudden, lethal crash.

At any rate I now had plenty of macabre ideas to offer the others if they desired them.  So many ways the spark of life could be snuffed.  It was a terrible thing to dwell on, but there was little else to do with my last half hour on this world.  I was awaiting my sentence of death like a prisoner set for the gallows, so the others may keep living.  It was all grand in theory, until it's your neck on the line.

My death sentence finally arrived with a quiet tap on my shoulder.  Saul, the sable, tried to be as straightforward and simple about it as he could.  I would kneel over a bucket they had cleaned out, then my throat would be slit.  The blood would be collected to avoid attracting any sharks.  My heart raced as I dumbly listened, my only condolence was that he had as much trouble announcing my fate as I did accepting it.

I stepped forward, unable to draw my eyes away from the big wooden bucket that had been set out.  Slowly and with faltering movements I knelt before the impromptu execution device.  My feline tail frizzled more while my breath raced.  Fear begged for me to run away, leave and escape this fatal moment.  To not bare my throat for a razor's intimate kiss by the coyote.  Chris looking just as nervous as I did for the grisly fate in store for us both.  Gently I tried to steady myself before the bucket.  Baring my throat as I steeled myself to avoid struggling when the blade would finally end my life. 

Before this impromptu execution fully had fully began a new commotion broke out.  At first I just believed the squirrel was having a panic attack over the upcoming execution.  It took a few moments I realized what he was really saying, finding it as absurd as the situation I was in.

"No no no, we can't go this way.  Look, I got no family, no one's really gonna miss me.  I got no one waiting for my return.  I should be the one kneeling down there!  I couldn't even eat him in the end anyways.  And well, I'm the prey one one, it's only natural I feed the others."  The squirrel continued his rant, tail fluffed in obvious fear even as he begged to be snuffed out in my place.

I gulped, uncertain how to respond while the grisly scene rolled to a stop for now.  My execution was stayed while we tried to determine how to respond to this strange turn of events.  Chris stepped back, letting me breath easier without ponder how it will feel when my throat is slit from cheek to cheek.

"So wait, let me get this straight.  You want to take his place as our meal?" Started Howard, "And you'd really be willing to follow through with it?"

The squirrel nodded, shaking heavily, but still managed a nod, "It should be a squirrel's role to submit to predators.  It would break my heart to know his family had no chance ot see him again.  Where as I don't have that worry.  Hell, my family would probably be proud of my sacrifice.  We prey have an odd view on life sometimes."

With that over he just shrugged, waiting for a response.  I of course was quite fine with this, but I did have a rather biased view right now after gazing at the sharp edge of a blade for the last few minutes.  I hope I wasn't being too cowardly, but if he really was willing...

We switched places slowly, the others watching with morbid curiosity.  The squirrel soon kneeling where I was, head held high over the bucket.  The wooden object ready to accept his offering of lifeblood.  Puzzle's tail flicking wildly, shaking with nervousness.  He tried to compose himself, "But, if  I could request, as, er, fair trade, Paul should be the one to end my life.

I nearly jumped from that, trying to avoid shaking my own knees as Chris passed the long blade over to me.  I gazed at the deadly razor, fidgeting in my grasp as I breathed deep, hoping I could follow through his last wish.  I knelt in close behind the poor squirrel, smelling his fear even as he bravely lifted his head.  Exposing his long neck as I shifted in to best perform this grisly task.  An awkward sensation of my lap pressed upon his rump, in what would be an intimate, or even erotic pose in another situation.  But I didn't really want to be in front and get soaked in his blood either.

Well, OK, there was a strange hint of the erotic even in this macabre situation.  Awkward as it was, with Puzzle panting heavily, on hands and knees, his neck bared.  He flushed in his ears some, his big, soft tail curled over my back.  "Could, I ask, one, uh, very odd.. request..." he mumbled out, squirming against me.  The feel of him rubbing against my lap provoking my feline sheath to perk to my embarrassment, glad only Puzzle could feel that stiff prodding.  I had to nearly lean over him so I could get leverage for the killing blow.

"I couldn't say no to you in this situation, so what would you want to be your, uh, last request?" I asked curiously, knowing the others were watching with fascination.

Puzzle quivered a little, making me bite back a response to his rear grinding to my lap.  "But, uh, could you pleasure me one last time?"  The others perked considerably as my ears folded back with a blush.  The squirrel continuing, "I've always had a fantasy of a big predator like a cougar such as yourself having his way with me while I became a meal."

I blushed, honored, but was not one to really be into the other guys.  But I supposed, if it was his last request, I could make an exception for him.  "I uh, suppose I can try, I won't say I'm good..."  I awkwardly fumbled my free hand at his belt, making the others gawk in surprise.  But they all watched as I slid his pants slowly down, revealing his bulged underwear, slick with precum.  Seems the squirrel had been aroused for a while...

The squirrel chittered a moan, equally with fear and arousal.  I slid hands into his underwear, feeling the heat from his slender and surprisingly long arousal, before baring the red flesh to the air for the others to see.  Leaning over more atop him, I felt my tented jeans rub a newly bared rump with a blush at how nice it felt.  But I mostly concentrated to pleasure a male one last time.  His arousal was slim, red and dribbling pre steadily, obviously into his final fantasy.  I whispered to his ear, "So when you, uh, cum, I should, er, do, it, then?"

Puzzle nodded rapidly as he moaned out, while I nestled in to do the dirty deeds.  My free hand gripped his arousal, awkward and slow like a pair of new teens fooling around.  But the squirrel didn't mind my lack of experience, moaning with his eyes closed and head held high, panting and rocking his hips into mine.  I was pretty new to this, but killing him would be a new experience too, so I supposed I better be a quick learner on both counts for his sake.

My grasp tightened on that slippery flesh, and I increased my firm pumping as I felt it twitch and throb with heat.  The other three watched with obvious and quite awkward arousal at the strange, morbid show we gave.  Obvious in discomfort at being aroused at the masturbation, yet knowing one of us will soon be snuffed out in quite a gory manner.  Puzzle just crooned and panted beneath me, eyes closed to lose himself in his fantasy, knowing he will lose his life.  My heart raced as I sensed him growing closer, feeling his arousal throb and twitch more urgently against fingertips.  While his rump pressed lewdly to the tent in my jeans, obviously savoring the feel of an aroused male half atop him.  I was caught in the mingling horror of my next act, and the strangeness that I might have gotten more aroused by it.

My hand rolled quicker around the squirrel's sleek arousal, remembering old memories of my teen years and the clumsy experimenting I had tried with long lost friends.  Given the steady trickle of pre on my fingertip, Puzzle didn't seem to be minding my inexperience at all.  He chittered and mumbled lust filled whispers of becoming meat, as his tail tickled along hips.  I realized this might even have been a very enjoyable romp in better situations.  If it didn't involve a razor splitting his throat in two at the end, as my other hand gripped the blade handle tightly.

I know I ended up half mounted him by now, as he rolled his hips against my lap with firm, lust filled motions.  But it would have been more awkward to stop, so I just kept rolling along myself.  I even began to thrust just a little, to help please the poor Male's last fantasy.  Puzzle certainly didn't mind the rough handling of his arousal, moaning louder as he tensed up, moaning his whispers of getting close to becoming just meat.  His tail curled, pulling tighter to my side.

His panted moans grew urgent and I know I'll have to be ready to fill that final wish of his soon enough.  My other hand ached with the grip on the razor, tense with terror at what I'll have to do.  His erection twitched eagerly in my grasp as I increased the pace, panting at the strain in my hand of masturbating him for his last time.  I lift the blade carefully, to get it ready, making him cry out louder.  I tense up, trying to think of how I'll perform the deed.  I couldn't help but imagine the blade digging through his flesh in one quick, fatal motion, from cheek to cheek to let him die smoothly.  Then hold his head up to help him succumb to blood loss quicker.  My own arousal oozes precum into my pants with a frightening lust for those thoughts, perhaps primal instincts of ancient, predatory cougar memories.  Or just the taboo subject of what comes next.

Finally the squirrel arches his back.  His head lifted as high as he can, crying out that's he's food, he's meat with his final gasps of pleasure.  His arousal jerks, and soon splatters ribbons of sticky seed onto the deck of the boat.  I shake for a moment, too terrified to act.  Then I brace myself, gritting teeth for what I do next.

I dig the razor in with brutal force, not wanting to be too frail for this moment.  His moan ended in a wet gurgle, and I cringe at the terrible sound.  But I dig the blade deep into his neck, jerking with all the force I can.  Having to grasp the back of his head to hold it still as the razor blade slices through surprisingly tough meat and tissue.  Blood flows out in splashing gushes, mirroring his climax in a terrible, gory twist.  And soon the blade dug through the other side of his neck, pulling free with a splash of crimson on the deck as I drop the knife in shock.  Watching his life blood torrent out, most of the hot, coppery blood flowing into the bucket, but it had gotten all over the deck too.  Staining the wood a deep red with his life.

The coppery scent of his blood makes me tremble with a strange passion, instincts buried long ago being awakened.  In a morbid bit of whimsy I lean forward and snap my jaws around the back of his neck, holding him firmly as he thrashes in his dying motions.  He could only make a quiet gurgling as his blood pours out in deadly spurts with each beat of his racing heart, killing him where it once kept him alive.  His weight grew heavy as he slumped.  His tail frantically jerked as I held him up, feeling his blood pour down my hands as it fills the bucket with a terrible speed.  I can feel his life ebb away with each beat of his heart, as it finds less and less blood to pump.  His body gave out as I grunt, holding him with jaws and hands around his chest.  Growling fiercely into his dying ears as his body shook pitifully.  The gush of blood slows, oozing down my hands and his chest and then finally stopped.  His body sagged beneath mine.  A few moments pass as I hold him, knowing his life has fully ended.  Finally I carefully let go of my grip, concerned with myself at how satisfying the taste of his blood is on my lips.   I sprawled him fully over on the bloody deck.  Indeed he is just meat now.  Just as he wished.

The small ship grew silent, a moment of silence in respect for our former comrade and current meals.  Somewhere far away a cry of a gull taunted us, signaling to us we were close to land but still unable to find it.  Then Howard and Chris joined me to prepare the meat.  The hyena and Coyote were, obviously shaken as I was.  No one seemed to give me any trouble for what I did, which I was thankful for.  The razor soon dug and tore into the once proud squirrel's flesh, as his clothes were hidden away.  To try to hide the reminder he was once a person too.  But that grew less needed as we skinned him down.  The fur to be set aside for tanning, more out of morbid respect to use every part of the volunteer we could think of.

The thought of him as anything but meat grew easier as we began to cut his meat down.  His form disappearing into just cuts of bloody, fresh meat.  No longer one of our passengers, just meals to keep us alive.  It was alarming how simple it was to transform a living person to an object, but we did what we had to do.  Soon we worked to do what we could to keep the rest of him fresh as long as we could, while the gull's lonely cries taunted us.

We were close, and with Puzzle's sacrifice, I can only hope we do make it fully home.  But for now our bellies are full of the game-like, yet satisfying meat of prey.  All of us knowing how strangely good he tasted, wondering how much was just from the taboo subject of the meal.  But for now the puzzle left was how to keep Puzzle's meat long enough to find land and back to civilization.  Hoping we would remain civilized long enough to rejoin it once more would be another question to answer later...