Renewable Menu of Octo Chef


Written by Septia.


-Drbnggnng- The doorbell pealed as Gantu withdrew his digit. “So what is an appropriate earth greeting, exactly?” 
	“Tell ya this, chief,” Reuben said gesturing downwards, “trampling over their garden, ain't a good first move.” 
	Gantu raised one foot to see the crater of pressed foliage. “Oh drat.” 
	“Why do you worry that pea brain with being polite,” a rodent called out, and leapt from the alien's palm, “these boorish flowers are no match for Hämsterviel,” he proclaimed, stomping onto the opposite flower patch with a deranged cackle. 
	The three's attention was drowned by a creak of unnatural nature. The flattened plant lot's earth was swelling, unbuckling, with the flower stalks raising tall and blooming once more. 
	Hämsterviel stopped stomping, and watched the tulip he'd mashed rejuvenate. 
	“On my way, whether you want it or not,” came a warm voice from within the building. A tentacle curled around the door as it slotted open, several more following, leading back to the auburn skinned octopus they belonged to. “You must be our guests, Reuben and associates.” 
	Hämsterviel puffed out his chest. “How are-.” 
	“That's us,” Reuben interjected. 
	“Then allow me to welcome you all to our humble orphanage,” the octopus said and elevated themselves by their tentacles to be in line with Gantu's chest, using one tendril to shake hands with each of the guests, the midday sun accentuating the glare of the mollusc's lubricated membrane. “Come in of course, oh,” he paused to gesture out a tentacle at Gantu, “fraid you’ll have to take the long way round, can't miss the kitchen window.” 
	“Understood, I will, meet you the-.” 
	“Ye ye don't be late,” Hämsterviel curted and strutted in after Reuben, turning only to stare at the tulips he had trampled, now standing tall and proud, “I'm onto you…” he whispered as the door closed. 
	Gantu sighed as he made his way around the orphanage, hearing chatter and tumultuous noises from within was annoying. “Tiny earthling architecture,” he mumbled under his breath. Gantu crouched to his knees outside a broad window peering into what appeared to be a nourishment preparation facility. Inside were already two earthlings of the tall variety, one long-haired and one short. 
	“Huua?” The short-haired gasped as the spotted him. “Look, Emilio, it is the alien, the actual alien.” 
	“O-oh… he is a lot bigger than I. Ah…” The long-haired one mumbled, stealing glances of him. 
	“Isn’t he cool?” 
	“Y-yeah, he is awesome.” 
	“… Awesome?” Gantu parroted. 


“…and that would be the long and short of it,” Octo said, opening the kitchen for his guests, stretching and contracting his arm for emphasis. 
	“Soft place,” Reuben admitted. 
	“Yes, child labour for additional income is utter genius.” Hämsterviel sneered. 
	“Oh skies no, only those of an appropriate age have such duties, we here accept kids of all ages, don't we, Gertrude?” Octo asked the short-haired girl, who was staring at Hämsterviel. 
	“Who's this twerp?” 
	“I am Hämsterviel, Hämsterviel.” he seethed. 
	“He is my, ah, current boss,” Gantu mumbled. 
	“Lame,” Gertrude responded. 
	“Indeed.” 
	Octo drew himself across the room behind the counter of the two humans. “Sow some politeness now with our guests here, they have come to see how wonderful our cooking is, we shan’t disappoint them now, shall we?” 
	“Oh yeah, you guys are in for a treat, watch this” the girl called out, reeling forwards and throwing herself backwards, up into the air to flip onto the counter-… -Ckrkrpth- though, with a misjudged landing, slamming to the marble neck-first. . A still moment followed, where no sound but the octopus' fiddling with cooking utensils could be heard, the rest staring at the crumpled heap on the counter. 
	-Chrlptsh- Gertrude's hands grasped her head to wring her neck back in place with a crack -Ckkrrtwhch-, and sitting back in a triumphant pose. “Woo, I nailed that recovery,” she whispered to herself. 
	“A fun demonstration of the genesis fluctuator, Gertrude.” Octo nodded. 
	“Yeah, a demonstration, that's what I did,” she affirmed and helped Emilio sit up beside her. 
	“Remarkable,” Gantu mumbled. 
	“most certainly so, it ensures safety for the family, and a delectable, renewable food source,” Octo added and patted Gertrude's head, correcting her sloppy neck readjustments. 
	“Ahahah,” Hämsterviel burst out in laughter, “Finally I'll get ta sample this deplorable specs.” 
	“Pssh, yeah I'm sure ya can have a toe or something to gnaw on after big dude's done,” Gertrude teased “haste makes waste, we begin with a demonstration, I've yet to have eaten lunch myself,” Octo explained with numerous tendrils arranging ingredients, bowls, and tools. “Off with the clothing first, it only stays on If we're making stew.” 
	“Cus It absorbs the broth, I know,” Gertrude said and fiddled with her shirt, peeling off layers to expose her fair brazen skin, and tossing laundry in Hämsterviel's general direction. 
	Emilio, however, was taking it much slower., fingers twitching. 
	“Emilio?” Octo came up by their side. 
	“I, I am ok, I am just…” 
	“Emilio, there is no need to be nervous, our guests are nice people.” 
	“Arguably,” Reuben mentioned.
	“From space,” Gertrude called out as she slung a sock at the furball. “It ain't that big.” 
	Emilio bit his lip. “It is not… I..” he took a deep breath on Octo's encouragement, “I haven't, you haven't, cooked me before…” 
	“Elio,” Octo ensured in a warm tone, dedicating four tentacles tin assisting the boy undress, folding away his clothes in a neat pile, “it won't hurt, you know it cannot, I know the uncertainty is there, but you have been avoiding cooking since you got here.” 
	“You've got great flavour, and that's just raw,” Gertrude intervened. 
	Emilio looked to and fro, curling up on the counter and peering down at the clothes. 
	“I'll be gentle, would you trust any other cook with your first time? Eh?? Would you?” Octo draped a few tentacles in a light tickle, which saw Emilio chuckle and ease up, lain sitting back on the counter. “Ok?” 
	“Okay,” Emilio nodded back. 
	“That is my tasty morsel,” Octo patted his cheek. The water began to boil, onions chopped against knife slicing through onions into a cutting board, the room muted by the orchestra of culinary artistry. “While we prepare our bases, adjust plating, and cook it is an excellent time to marinade our scrumptious entrees.” Octo filled a form with golden sunflower oil and trailed another tentacle across it, as each suction-cup picking up a globule of the oil, continuing on their path over to Gertrude and Emilio, -plbbtlsh- gentle pops came as the tendrils trailed over their forms, pushing down one bloat of oil at a time and swatting the tentacle swept the liquid behind it. As Octo concluded other tasks more tentacles would migrate over to hoist up oil and daub it onto dry patches or sweeten and knead by their sides to ensure the film of gloss was plastered evenly across their bodies. 
	“Phaa, mfms, don't miss a spot now, wanna be juicy when I'm done,” Gertrude cooed out, leading to Octo to curl a tendril around her bust, -Shqllsh- squeezing glistening fluids across them and wedging underneath to apply another layer.
	“And we ought not to neglect the other side,” Octo ensured and strapped a tentacle around each of their ankles, aiding them in rolling over toward the centre of the corner, smearing oil into thin and into the patch of spices laid out for them, so as new batches of oils and kneaded into their skin their fronts were worked down into the layer of herbs beneath. The Octopus enumerated the two's distance from each other, and in the middle of them dusting out from jar after jar of spices and herbs in crossing patterns, turmeric, cumin, freshly milled black pepper, thyme, and pinches of salt.
	“The main herbs are best kneaded in early,” Octo explained as he focused his attention on sampling in his tentacles in a weave over Gertrude's back and brushing down on her in a carpet of caresses, “she can be a bit tough, but that is worked out if you know where to prod,” he said, letting a veil of tentacles sweep up over her rear, leaving it a spice dusted hill of gleaming member. 
	“But on the other hand, Emilio's meat is quite tender already, it doesn't need much except perhaps a dust of paprika,” he said and sloughed over towards him, tendrils carpeting the boy's back and opening gaps to sprinkle in the scarlet powder. 
	“Ha-aah-thico-”.” Emilio sneezed into a napkin Octo held up. 
	“It is not just about how spicy you want it to be, you have to take into account the meat's sensitive,” as he explained this and swept in broad patterns to work the herb drenched concoction into the boy, he sprinkled pinches of flour over Gertrude, the initial layer gumming up with the oil but the subsequent one's falling into a delicate snowy field. 
	“Just a pinch for surface, I'm thinking steamed for this little pot licker,” he narrated and gave Gertrude's rear a wring of is tentacles, eliciting a snickering moan below. With him working on the countertop over them, one could barely see the kids in the tangles of tentacles weaving in and out, only glimpses of their bodies showing where the limbs didn't reach were dusted in more spices after taste. 
	“Mmg I'll make sure not to stick to the pan this time.” 
	“Atta gal,” Octo patted over her head before wrapping it up in an oven friendly bun. 
	“How does it feel, Elio? Too harsh, comfy?” Octo asked the boy beneath the sprawling limbs, soft grooves forming in his skin as a tentacle brushed past. “It is ar-really nice.” 
	“Goood, you taste so stale when you are nervous,” Octo encouraged as more and more tendrils shifted back to the other opposite counter, one pair washing off an oven tray, another opening a cabinet with metal bars and a little bell within. As it rang a few huffs and squeals were heard. 
	“We do have a good selection of meat here,” Octo said as he helped the two flip over again, “to make the most of filling meals a little bit of padding does help out tremendously, ready for some filling you two?” he wondered, only getting a few coos and quivers in response. 
	Octo brushed a few tentacles towards their crotches, aiding them curling a ring around Emilio's pucker and an oval surrounding Gertrude's honeypot, the suction cups clamping down and beginning to undulate, extending and contracting to tenderise their openings, and letting them help themselves out to work loose. He fished up a little piglet from the cage cabinet, and then another in a row on the counter, to be washed in the sink. 
	“They have their own ham stash, why am I not living here?” Rueben asked. 
	“You are not an orphan,” Gantu curted. 
	“Says who?” 
	“Gnngh gs. Pha… if I wasn't outside I'd-.” 
	“You are behaving, right? This procedure is rather delicate.” Octo heaved himself up onto the counter between the two, his head swelling up like a mushroom cap being the middle. Another pair of tentacles roamed their way across to the pods, as one pried it open another reaching within. “Relax, Emilio, just let me do the work. He ensured and spiralled his limb deeper, easing the strain on the tenderizing meat 
	“Does the process really have to be this intricate?” Hämsterviel wondered aloud. 
	“It helps with both parties being ready and willing, neither strain nor worry builds up,” Octo ensured, curling tendrils each around one of the now cleaned piglets, pulling them inwards, with a new tentacle each burrowing into the entree's depths, slimming, so the tentacles laid in lines with the pits orifices ahead. Then for the third tentacle – holding the wriggling ham – to make its way forward, seep into the pit, and all three extending to broaden the tunnels out in front of them, skin clutching against slippery meat as the piglet unfurled down the tendril, slopping through Octo's grasp for each snout to -Sctthwwwlp- slot into place in the parted gapes. 
	“Gehrig.” 
	“Mfnng, fmpahaaooh yeah…” Came from the two, the grasp of the tendrils ensuring the piglets’ heads were stashed securely in the reverberating pits. His tentacles buckled over the swine, the waveform motion of the tentacles expanding their insides whilst contracting by the brim of flesh, -Shhfrlrlpsths- wedging in the peach piglet with a practised, rhythmic rumble, Gertrude's snatching tucking in, clamping over the pig eagerly whilst Emilio's struggled to tug it in, though with Octo's help both hunks of beef were fed through to engorge the main course's abdomens into pig-shaped, snorting domes. 
	“Handling it like a champ,” Octo said as he caressed the squirming bulge warping up on Emilio's abdomen. The boy looking back with a crooked smile. 
	“Mfmwa mfpaa haa.” Came from next to him. 
	“Gertrude, you keep massaging yourself and you'll smear out the flour, just hold for a little bit longer,” He instructed, tentacles heading back to ensuring numerous tasks were ready and dusting more new coats of milled where Gertrude's palms couldn't help but need. 


“Open wide,” the octopus chef instructed the two, Emilo in the last stage of getting hogtied and Gertrude on her side. Both did as told, only for Octo to reach a tendril under their armpits.
	“Phgbaha-hadmpth-.” 
	“Ghchhamrpghtmsph…” Both the two of them getting an apple each stuffed into their maws; Octo ensuring it was tucked in securely and patting them down their brow. A green for Gertrude a citrine green for Emilio. 
	“Splendid, both of you, my mouth is watering already, thinking of digging into to you both.” 
	“I wgo right ahreadee~.” Gertrude teased and leaned back, cradling her flour splattered, pork bloated tummy. 
	“Oh hoho, once you're steaming and your meat has absorbed all those spices, you will go straight down my gut,” he ensured and hoisted up the deep oven form, milk and spices sloshing to from inside. 
	“The milk will steam together with Elio's muscles, stewing that sinew into a befittingly creamy, mellow flavour,” he explained, hoisting Emilio into the pan and spreading a bedding of mashed potatoes around him. “Feel ready? Just a quick trip to the oven and all you'll be the tastiest little meal,” Octo asked as he carried the plate to the oven unleashing its sweltering heat. 
	“I-HAfm ahsfmsn fhweine,” he mumbled around the apple, flustered. 
	“Good, good~. See you shortly,” Octo ensure and slid him in, clasping the oven shut whilst dangling Gertrude over the pan of bubbling oil on the stovetop. “Dhnut whorry aout shms, yhfos kwngmfwh mwphfht.” Gertrude did not get far before being tossed into the pan, a splatter of oil sprinkling up onto her and the fizz of torched lard broiled up in the room. “First a touch of surface texture,” Octo explained as Gertrude helpfully swirled and rolled in the cramped pan to the best of her ability, the flour shifting from white to dusky amber over her skin as she settled down in a cresting along the pan's rim. 
	“Then a whip of steam,” Octo continued and decanted a full litre of water down the pan, a flood of steam billowed upwards to surround her body, before -Ckkttls- a dome snagged into place over the pan, keeping the fog inside trapped and circulating over the girl's meat. 
	“Mmm hmmm,” Reuben sighed after a long sniff, “Gotta admit that smells like a home run already.” 
	Octo chuckled as his numerous limbs swept and wiped the kitchen clean, “just wait until those darlings are done.” 


~ 1 ~


“Would you please open the windows again? I can barely pick up that scrumptious aroma from out her.” Gantu asked, his chin squeezed to the glass. 
	“I will not let it get all drafty in here, it chills my temper,” Hämsterviel called out, stamping his feet to the ground. “Blast, when are those brats finished cooking?” he cried out, dragging down his ears. 
	“When it comes to food, you hafta let it take its time, just the same with work, laundry, the dishes,” Reuben listed of. 
	“I made a chore list for a reason,” Gantu called out behind the window. 
	“Yup, take its time.” 
	“You are spot on there,” Octo said and turned around. “I know my ‘kids’ well, and it will,” -Brnnng- the timer rang out as he spoke, his tentacles whipping and fiddling with the stove, “will be worth every moment for those meat buns to properly-.” -Thcnk- -Th-ckkthn- The counter ahead of him clanked as he placed down the tray and pan. 
	“My, seems they are done, my apologies, my arms tend to have a mind of their own,” Octo excused and fanned away the steam from Emilio. 
	The milk bath still puttered in the tray, licking into his golden glazed skin. His meat cooked to a brilliant bronze with the crevices between folded legs and body taking on a murky brass lustre. Interweaving droplets of lard exuding from his skin, sticky dairy trailed along his body. His body gave off the impression of polished ore, supple as a red apple cooked by the fumes of a pastel pin pearl. 
	Octo pushed a tent tip down onto Emilio's rear, -Shrhrhs- squeezing a few beads of meat juices from the ham to roam down the curve of meat. 
	“Excellent quality, you, sprigg, spry, and savoury, how was the trip Elio?” 
	“Phaa… w-warm.” 
	“It wasn't that bad, was it?” 
	“Mmgmmf,” the boy puffed out with reddened lips. 
	“That's remarkable.” Gantu “I thought you could only taste Oxonian food with your eyes.” 
	“Oo, that is only half,” Octo said, and curled a tendril around the dome on the pan, hoisting it up for a bloom of smog to billow free. “mmgnr aawpp, ahm ahall chryshpee.” Gertrude mumbled, managing to prop herself up by the elbow, curved in the pan with her skin scrunched up in lithe folding patterns, a maze of curved flesh sprawling over her form where the peaks laid golden and the valleys rich vermillion. Further down the flour and oil had cheered into a crisp bottom, crackling -Chrk-Clrths- as she shivered to present herself. The texture going from light fractures on the bottom of her belly up to a gradient of softness up to the steamed peaks. A chubby pair of reddened hams poking out in the confines of her own cheeks, with the swirl of a tail flapping in the rising vapours. 
	Such a rambunctious roast she is,” Octo said and brushed down Gertrude's side, “their flavour is preserved if they stay conscious throughout the cooking process, also it is much more fun to delight in a pleased meal.” -Grrrgbhhgsl- Octo's back head rattled. “Mmm, yes the most important part of the demonstration, I did say I had skipped out on lunch. While we have large dinners it is best to cut the meals up,” he continued, wrapping a tendril in the gap from Gertrude's propped up arm, and hoisting her out of the pan, “yet when we have enough for each one, or we have a starving octopus around-.” 
	“He ghobbles hus uhlp.” 
	“Yes that is correct, I do hope you keep being such a good meal past my lips,” Octo teased and curled wound tentacles around her form, splotches of oil dripping onto the countertop below as he tilted backwards, a pit where his tentacles met around bulbing outwards, the pucker of flesh pursed before peeling back over a bundle of fangs long as fingers. The bundle parted, as if the aperture of teeth broadening to unveil ta tunnel of spittle laced flesh. The gape sprawled as wide a forearm in diameter, turning Gertrude around and gently threading her feet into the mollusc's gape. 
	“Mgmw gemmpgs.”
	“Someone's ticklish? I thought you were a badass, you are mfmsm, just mfm, a tasty meaty dumpling roast, anrmmfspg yhou?” Octo mumbled as his elongated throat clutched and ground into Gertrude's soles, his teeth folded back like the petals of a flower as the pit warped and crawled forwards up along her shins. -Schrlrspgghs- -Chrlrprsths- A moisture mixture of sweat, juice, and saliva dropped down Octo's gape, trailing along her frame or splattering on the counter as his lips swept over her skin. The rind of flesh bulldozed over the supple flaps of meat and snapping between fractures in the crispy bottom. A light crunching -Chhrns- as her crispy underside was drawn in and compacted down the octopus's funnel. “Mmgmw, mmfwah just driftnet.” He mumbled, heaving himself forwards, -Chrrlsptsh- his maw following along to sweep up her legs, passing her knees as the funnel -Chhrrlsptsh- contracted and tugged on her form, winding her into his depths. 
	“Mfms mmwf,” She huffed and moaned under the gag of the green fruit, shivering running down her body remaining visible as the bloats down Octo's extended gullet. -Crrkrlth- Crumbles like fortune cookie soggy wit rm stew reverberated within Octo, the back of his organ sack engorging with the vague outlines of her legs whilst his maw traversed to squeeze and chug up along her torso. “mmfs, a haw brit dherpree,” Gertrude mumbled, panting out steam as her form drew into the creaking caverns, lips slobbering up her side -Chbrrlfprsth- and hugging over her shoulders, at which point the fangs retracted, clutching in over her head. 
	“Mmfs Whiwhl'll bher mm, ehgut bhhck.” she huffed out, with a wink. -ghhrlgnsk- -pwomgpgsh- The teeth clutched over her head, and the maw pinched shut over the bundle of hair, -sltlhsp- which disappeared in a slurp and a snarl as the throbbing lips retracted to a languid state, the bulges of her frame deflating to swell further back in Octo's crop.
	“MMM, mmfss, aaah, delectable,” -churaalpkrltkts- a belch burbled out from under him, setting his fangs clattering. “Do excuse me, it is with all sincerity that I delight in my work, mm, both fostering, and baking these ‘young ones’.” He sloughed over on the counter towards Emilio, cradling over his head. “Ready mfms, to come join her? See if it takes longer to churn you into chyme compared to when you are raw?” 
	“Emilio nodded slight, huffing and, staring in a haze. 
	“Mm, someone's all m, tuckered out,” Octo said and crawled over him, between the weave of tendrils one could see the maw protruding, disgorging his fangs to spread into a gaping abyss, “Let's tuck you in.” -Shhrfllpfth-. -Glhtss- Octo lowered himself over the boy's front, the curved fangs caressing against Emilio's form as the lips swathed over his front, enveloping him in the confines of the slick membrane of lips. -chsrlrps- cHrlrlsptu a buffered squeal of polished rubber creaked out as Octo drew himself forwards, the lips engorging to pucker forwards, arching over his frame folded frame and slotting him through the mollusc's maw in gentle chugs -Chrlrlpshg- -Ogompghs- A few tentacles wedged in beneath the boy, hosting his form tilted so the breadth of the maw could encircle him, spreading a film of saliva across his baked exteriors as it roamed over his frame, sponsoring his frame to be immersed into the humid depths. 
	“Mfms, mfm, touch of garnish,” The octopus mumbled as lumps and bulges warped here and there across his form, fetching a shaker of salt to sprinkle in patches of Emilio's back as it sank into this maw. “Mmmfs, yehaes, just so, that mf is a hefty meal,” he mumbled, with a warm sigh, leaning back on the counter so his belly could rest behind him, tilting back as Emilio's wriggling feet and hind sunk backwards in the crinkling tunnel -Chrlrpsfhhhs- -Shprsh- with a squelch a pair of chubby pork hinds peeked out through the boy's rear, along with a gush of succulent oils trickling through. The fangs folded inwards, clutching at the zenith of the roast's frame, and scoffed in with a tug -gHpltsh- then another -Chgltptwmp- and then… -Gllrnsosmp- clamping to pursed sprawling flinging up over the toes, and crawling shut over the arch of well-baked hams, pursing taut as the lithe boy funnelled through the engorged neck, warping in dunes of the protruding body, and -Shrlrgh- sinking in as the maw withdrew, -Gbrhgs- engorging Octo's stomach as the lump faded from his maw, and the bulb sank back into the folds of flesh. “Mmf mfm -Bhruaaallprhop- ooh dear, fmms. I have no clue how they mm, kids have kept me from growing fat already, perhaps mf, though it does take a mf, -bhruaaalp- awful amount of effort to care for them too. I would not trade it for anything in the world.” He sighed and let his tendrils crawl back and swirl along the shifting bulges in his gut. 
	“W-what about the universe?” Hämsterviel pointed out. 
	Octo pondered for a moment. “Unlikely, do apologise for enjoying myself, mfms, I am certain we have enough time to let you have a proper taste, just have to let them, two digest properly,” he said with a warm quiver, all his limbs sprawling out to rest. 


~ 2 ~

	“… What I am wondering is how this, genesis field interacts with the gastrointestinal assimilation,” Gantu pondered, the four having spent some time discussing in and or outside the kitchen. 
	“I,” claimed Hämsterviel, “was about to ask that, yes.” 
	“An astute observation,” Octo said, brushing down his bloated rear abdomen, “it all fits together like a tentacle and glove,” he said holing up a glove with the one tendril, then filling in one more for each of the fingers and waved, “and the side effects are rather riveting, the few they may bemfm m…” Octo passed as he felt a -Ghbrrllpgbshs- grumble teeter through his insides. “I believe it to be a perfect time to demonstrate, both of these dumplings have lazed away in my tummy for long enough.” Octo crawled over to the floor, extending his tentacles to keep level with the counter until he'd produced two wooden boards from underneath it. -Bhhrglltbsh- “That's right, both of you ready for the debut for our esteemed guests?” Octo asked his sagging bloat of an abdomen and lowered himself to the flood. -Fbprpooft- a funnel extended at the rear end of his body, spewing forth a faint cloud of internally dampened fog. -Chhrggsk- The funnel of flesh kept to the dimensions of a bottle for its girth and half forth length, sturdy as the tip clenched. -Chbgrllspth- though soon the base of the mast began to engorge, inflating enough to dwarf the lower end, through the flesh rippled, stretching as the bulk sloughed downwards. 
	“Good girls, you wanted to put on a good show, didn't mgm, you?” Octo wondered as he steadied himself. The expansion swelled down the length of the hose, the girth curving and beginning to dip. The base of the bulb swelling and waving forwards, the tip contorted open with a trickle of fluids -Crrhptlsths-Chprslth-. The lips peeled back over a patch two bundles of dampened raw amber, contrasting Octo's body in saturation though matching in hue. Two brown muck clumps laid fused at the centre, elsewhere along the protruding lengths one could see crevices and fissures separating the muck into faint segments, though at the centre were only a creamy blended auburn hue for their meeting. 
	“Mmf, fmpwh,” Octo huffed out and lowered the lumps do the board beneath him, -Chrlwpttwbp- The slabs smacking unto the wood, glueing stuck as the octopus slowly rose upwards once more. -Chrrllwpthhtss- Pops of viscous bubbles bursting. His tentacles parted way as the curtains before a play, unveiling the fudge-nozzle contorting and -Chrbbghs- distending to a steady girth. The lumps crossed through the precipice of the brim, bending the flesh surmising it. Until one could hear the end of the nozzle -Chnrps- Stretch and snap back over a broad wedge. The two lumps following the same pattern of a rounded end opposite the initial peaks, before combining together midway as the diameter grew to a steady swell. -Sllpth- It was becoming clear, one could recognize the wedge as heels, the front becoming a vague facsimile of toes, and currently spooling from the octopus -CPSpththwhs- the oblong mounds of Gertrude's legs gradually sloughed onto the platter, dressed in a sheen of colon fluids which reflected the specular sheen from the lights above, the –sheaths- crackling as the liquids squeezed through crevices and fractures around the mound, warping streams of scintillant phlegm down its side. -Chhthws- Octo's funnel swelled over her knees, bent forwards in the same curve she had taken to pose in the pan, though, -Srhpsuthsts- the thighs were bending back around, the octopus' rear struggling as it -Chtsh- clamped and squeezed around the woman's buttocks, though once passing the apex with a further heft of force the mound -Shfhprhsths- lobbed out with a flurry of puttering fumes. The body had had its outline matching Gertrude's, though the glossed lard soaked surface of a delicacy transmuted into a more satin polish in their buddied state. 
	“Mfms smooth as an eel, and just as rambunctious,” Octo sighed as the buttocks of the bowel pudding -Pltwwwp- deposited, letting the nozzle glide up along the midriff, and he curled back for her torso. 
	The muck shifting from thin hies towards a haggard speckle of vitrine. Further along, the chest brought a brighter hue from fat and milk boiling and dissolving within. Steam rose from the forming crescent statue, moulding out on the floor, an air of jerky wrapped around brined rubber saturating the kitchen as the nozzle played broadly around the muck-Gertrude's shoulders. -swpplsth-. The rind clasped together at the neck, the nozzle-base of the flesh hose contracted once around a sphere, the last of her lodged in the limbo between of freedom and bodily captivity.. -Chrlptsh- “Just a bit more, keep it together,” Octo ushered. 
	-Shsptpskh- The triangular segment of her arm propping up her body sagged under her weight, lowering the reeking sculpture towards the floor and -Schhptths- reeling out the bottom of the cranium through the pit. 
	“Mfms, aahs, always the energetic one, Gert-mmfrud,” he huffed out and raised himself, letting the tunnel slim from the base to smear the head downwards, the leash bulldozing flat in the wake of the lump teetering out the edge until… -Shchrlrpsths- Octo raised up and with a smack of glistening lips let the head pop free. -Chspttsh- and slump down into position. Once Gertrude's cocky smile was plastered over face whose eyes betrayed tarter enjoyment, the whole statute together in one glued into a solid slab of congealed bowel fudge. The melange of brown and yellowed hues melding together seamlessly, even the cracks and outlines littering the dung kept a uniformity to give the appearance of the swine stuffed little lady. -Shglrpsh- Though out in the open some segments were sloughing together, her elbow warped to a curve under their weight, with dunes of compressed muck spilling up where she met the ground, though out from a distance, one would be confused on the true nature of the muckheap. 
	“Starling, yet intriguing,” Reuben noted. 
	“To encase my the fools who defy me in such a humiliating fashion, ahaha, I have to know more.” Hämsterviel cried out. But then shushed by the chef. 
	“Mmf, m…” -Cbrbrffwlprt- -Fbprrrthrrrwhwp-- a few longer bouts huffed through as the nozzle splayed and undulated. “We haven't fms, seen Elio yet.” -Ppfbrthtwo- The fumes funnelled forth a face through the tunnel, the nozzle immediately congested and magnified to beyond its comfortable dimensions, One could immediately see Emilio's sweet face as the brim warped over a mucky facsimile of his hair, with numerous fishes weaved together so chunks of manure trickled free from among the cracks, till the nozzle -Chbrrls- warped open around the wrapped up boy. The cooking wire remained tied around the sludge, though as more of the congested, folded figure emerged from the bunked -Chrrtsj- trickled off, it slumped down the side with filaments of grime and the occasional stray hair landing after the toppled head. -Csmptsh- The front of Emilio hit the new board, the manure denting his chin smooth whilst Octo huffed and worked out the rest of his hogtied frame. “Mfms, hoo. Here is also, an example, of when you have too much fun with your food, mm, should have untied you first,” the chef huffed to himself, as the brim warped and widened along the bulging square of the concocted boy-statue. -Chhr-sthhtph- The skin of the warped, pliant nozzle creaked to polish the filth in gellatinous spreads of bowel gunk, auburn dunes sagging down the surface of the forged gut rectum slab. -Shfhwppthts- -Chhrrlprhts- The crackles kept steady, as the filth creaked through the open, pausing as Octo caught his breath. The brim widened along his back, swelling over each nub from the spine, then coming to an incline past towards the end of the heap, the funnel eagerly -Shshllts- squeezing and contracting as it was akin to a rubber band, as it the grime sculpture pried free from this depths.. -Chtlstpsh- the nozzle smacked against Emilio's rear, leaving a circle of phlegm encroaching around the boy's hind, to further emphasise the squeezed bundle of piglet bottom sandwiched in his buttocks, a distinctly paler shade of crumbling beige. 
	“Phoooaha… hooa, haven't mfm, had a meal that satisfying in quite a long while, thanks kids”


Octo hoisted himself back onto a counter, sloughing back and deflating in a long sigh. “That is quite remarkable,” Gantu mumbled. 
	“Yeah, so's the smell.” Reuben fanned over his face. “but hey, they don't seem like they're such, what was it?” 
	Octo peered back. “Mm? Oh, the statues of refuse here will remain, however, I direct your attention, thusly,” he said with a gesture of his tentacles. Gantu crowded and shuffled at the window to see. He caught a faint glimpse of a labyrinth of bale pink and knitting together with threads of crimson coated I in a haze of grey. But in a flash he could see both Emilio and Gertrude, naked, in the corner of the kitchen, each snuggling the pair of piglets they had which had been crammed up their respective backside. “Heya, told'ya I'd be back soon. Ooo lookit that pose, I look good even as dung,” Gertrude snickered. 
	Emilio flustered, keeping a hand over his crotch, peering through the window. 
	“Did you see everything okay from there, mister alien?” 
	“Mister?” Gantu stammered. 
	“And there you have it, aren't they just precious bunch o' sugar buns?” 
	“Makes me wonder what condiments go with these ere humans, and cheeses, you got any reference for this stuff?” Reuben wondered.
	“Oh certainly, we can discuss in it is over lunch, meanwhile, do feel free to peruse,” Octo said and tentacled Reuben a book with entitled: 'family meals'. 
	“Perfect,” the experiment said as he slumped back to take notes. 
	“What do you say? Do you want a sample for yourselves? ‘Kids’, you alright for another round?” 
	“Am I?” Gertrude called out with enthusiasm. 
	“Y-yes?” Emilio mumbled, peering out to Gantu. 
	The large, former commander of the galactic federation groaned. “Oh I cannot take being let out like this, come here,” he said and tugged the folded up the out the windowing, twisting wooden beams in the process, clambering in for the nude man still clutching the piglet. 
	“Ofowoa m-mister e-easeyafma,” Though He could barely speak out before the clutch unlatched open, and he landed -Cmmddmpth- softly on the mattress-sized, purple tongue. The plush muscle breaking his fall to a light bounce, before the lips sealed shut after him, -Chgogogmpgsh- -Gurllsms- a trembling gulp ringing out as the boy folded back to a swollen protrusion in the back of Gantu's gullet, landing down as a -Sbbtths- bump at his centre. “Mmf, haaa, you were mm, superb without the need for preparations.” 
	“Certainly is,” Octo nodded back, to Gantu. 
	-Bhruuaburp- “Excuse me,” he said and patted his chest. 
	“Wooa, haven't seen Emilio go down that fast before, well except that one time, wanna have me next?” Gertrude asked, standing by the window, which was gradually recurving back to its former state. 
	“Hey.” 
	She turned around, scanning the room, then looked down. 
	“Are you forgetting about someone?” Hämsterviel shouted. 
	“Oh yeah you're that twerp,” she responded. 
	“What? How dare you mock me, you will rue the day, I will force you down my guts to shut you up, and I can guarantee it won't be pleasant.” 
	“Yeah, cute.” she said and kneeled down to pat his head.” I'm sure Octo's got something for ya, more your size, some bread-ends, cheese crumbs, that's the thing rats like, right?” 
	“Mgm, mwhrh,” Hämsterviel seethed vibrated in rage. “Hgyayaath.” She screamed and snapped up Gertrude's hand in his mouth, tugging her down to the ground scoffing down the rest of her arms into his cheeks. 
	“Oh darn that is some torque you hafahampgwmfpght,” Gertrude mumbled out as Hämsterviel chomped over her head, feeding the woman's frame through his to sustain his rodent hunger, cheeks engorging between -Chgmmphgs- swallows that expanded his gut, ballooning the white orb of meat may times over as the girl sloughed down his depths, till he squealed and grovelled over her flailing calves, cramming her feet down with both paws-cmmwpthsg- --Ghoommpght- and deflating the last of his puffed pouches to -Gbgghs- swell out his stomach that spilled out over his lap and reached above his head. 
	“Pahhaa. Ahah…” -Bhruruaaahahrurwaaalpo- he let out a saliva sprinkling belch that sprayed headed moisture to matt his fur. 
	“Haaha, I, am not, sorry.” He cried out with his fists flailing I by his side. 
	“Phhaahfa,” Octo chuckled to himself, “I'd never the gumption to deal with her that way, might be a bit healthy for her. I can see the demonstration was quite a success.” Octo sloughed from the counter, patting the bumps sailing across Hämsterviel's abdomen and cleaning in the kitchen. 
	“On that note,” Gantu said, clearing his throat, “Do you think there is, a chance for seconds, I have,” he said and patted his abdomen, to which a faint -mfmpfhs- could be heard singing from within, “quite an appetite.” 
	the octopus glared at him, then the whirl of tentacles hoisted up utensils and ingredients back on the counter from shelves and cabinets. “Of course we can, at my establishment, no one goes hungry for long,” he said and opened a hatch in the wall, “who wants to come help feed our guests?”