The Turey Does the Stuffing

Happy Turkey Day

Mashed potatoes. Yams with marshmallows. Corn on the cob. Buttermilk biscuits. Butternut squash soup. Cornbread stuffing. Cranberry sauce. Green bean casserole...her list of favorite Thanksgiving dishes could go on forever. For a stress cooker like Jane, November and December were the months to shine! Every November spread Jane conceived could easily outdo what was done the year before and this year would be no different. This year she had brined the turkey in a brown sugar, citrus and herb broth that would make it the most flavorful and moist bird she would ever roast.

Her husband and children were all too familiar with her early morning Thanksgiving intensity, though her husband preferred the term "insanity". As such he cleared out, with the children in tow, to have a nice breakfast at the local diner and then off to watch their town's attempt at a Macy's style Thanksgiving Day parade. Jane appreciated the consideration because it would keep everyone out of her way and as a result, Jane wouldn't leave anyone in tears by the end of the day. She had always taken cooking very seriously. Its the only thing that has ever really made sense to her.

Standing in front of her open refrigerator, she made a mental note of everything she had pre-made and prepped like the pies and the corn. She looked down towards the bottom of the fridge and smiled at the container holding the promise of a praise-worthy turkey. Still in her robe, she reached into the fridge and grabbed the handles. It was no easy feat lifting an 18 pound turkey soaking in two to three gallons of broth. She withdrew the container and its contents and carefully turned to placed it on the counter. The container was so heavy she was confident she could leave it on the counter and not have to worry about the cat climbing up to knock it over...because he had done just that before. Wine bottles. Cantaloupe. Chinese takeout. The mangy little shit often thought the kitchen counter was his space and would reclaim it as soon as she stepped away. Then she realized she hadn't seen the cat all morning.

She leaned back to cast a glance at the pet door leading into the backyard. The cat was equipped with a little receiver on his collar that would unlock the pet door for him and him alone. This way the family wouldn't have to worry about raccoons or opossums getting in and wreaking havoc in the night. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a tiny box of his kibble. Jane shook it and waited to the hear the "mew" of a tiny cat with a bottomless pit in his stomach.

When she heard nothing, she called out, "Ozy?"

*shake shake*

"Ozymandias?"

*shake shake*

She frowned. She walked to the back door, pulling her robe tighter around her to protect her tiny frame from the chill outside. She pulled the door open and called out again, shaking the box in turn. Still nothing.

With furrowed brow and pursed lips, she finally shrugged and closed the door. The stupid cat was probably out killing something cute and would promptly return to drop it at Jane's feet. She made a mental note to talk to the children about having their little arts and crafts parties on the back porch. They had gotten red paint on the steps and no one had bothered to clean up. Jane would normally take care of it then and there, but she had a turkey that she needed to give her undivided attention to.

She walked to her room and removed her robe, ready to pick something comfortable to cook in for the rest of the day. She turned on her bluetooth speaker and began playing music that would set the mood for the rest of the day. To the percussion and funk of "Mustang Sally" she pulled on a sports bra and plucked a pair of gray yoga pants from her dresser. Slipping her feet into a pair of flats, she grabbed her favorite off-the-shoulder shirt and felt ready to start being awesome in the kitchen. Still moving her body to the groove of Wilson Pickett, she heard a loud crash come from outside the room.

She hesitated wondering what it could have been. Had she left the back door unlocked? Maybe the door swung open and broke the glass...or the wind might have knock something over... She walked cautiously towards the hallway. It wouldn't surprise me if Ozy had knocked somethi... Oh shit, the turkey!

Her cautious gait ramped up into a full-tilt sprint and the aroma of oranges, sage, and rosemary reached her nostrils before she even turned the corner of the kitchen. The container lay on the floor, broth still pooling around it, splashes of the broth evident on the kitchen cabinets and even the ceiling. Jane thought she might cry if she weren't so consumed with a rage that spelled doom for that cat if it had the balls to show its mangy face. Naturally, it was nowhere to be found.

Strangely the turkey was also no where to be found. It had just fallen, perhaps it could still be salvaged. She stepped into the room and looked around the kitchen island in case the turkey slid to the other side of the room. Nothing. Stepping into the broth, she noticed a trail of it leading out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She gasped, thinking the cat had attempted to flee with the turkey and hurried to cut him off. As she turned into the dining, she didn't see the cat or the turkey but the trail of broth continued. As she continued to follow the turkey's tracks, she began to consider the idea of the cat taking the turkey absurd. The turkey was almost twice the cat's size and Ozy really isn't that ambitious.

Jane was surprised to find the turkey laying in front of the pet door. She stooped to pick it up quickly and cursed the ridiculous feline for messing with what was supposed to be the day's piece de resistance. She carried it to the sink and washed it off as best she could. It felt heavier than she remembered but attributed the extra weight to the absorption of the brine. Satisfied with its condition, she placed it gingerly into its roasting pan to inspect it more closely.

Something struck Jane as...odd about the turkey. It still looked like a turkey but it also didn't. Something seemed off about it but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She admitted it was heavier than it was before she brined it and it also looked bigger for some reason. The wings and legs appeared to be in awkward positions, almost as though the turkey had been contorted prior to its beheading...but that wasn't how she had purchased it. Surely it couldn't be a side effect of the brining or the fall, could it? She reached for the tip of one of its wings and pulled, extending the limb before letting it go again. She grabbed the drumstick and wiggled it around. Bending at the waist, she lined her face up with the turkey cavity she would normally stuff with vegetables and meat. She could have sworn she saw movement inside the cavity and she recoiled in disgust.

Great, something got in when I opened the back door and now its gotten inside my fucking turkey!

She stood straight with her hands on her hips, thinking what she should do. Everything was closed. There was no way she could get her hands on another turkey and there was no time to make the brine again much less brine the turkey. She bent at the waist again and tried to catch a glimpse of movement again. When she couldn't see anything, she drew a few inches closer to the bird. Her hand moved slowly to open the cavity a little more.

With lighting speed something shot out from the cavity and wrapped itself around Jane's wrist. Jane blinked in disbelief and confusion. What was an octopus doing in her turkey? Still blinking and not moving she stared dumb-founded at the tentacle currently coiling itself around her fore arm. She tugged at it, hoping it was the product of overwork and too little sleep. The tentacle pulled against her efforts, keeping her anchored to it's position. Panic finally emerged through the fog of disbelief and she pulled harder, bracing her feet on the cabinet and using every ounce of her strength in an attempt to free herself from the creature's snare. Nothing budged, not even the turkey. It stayed on the counter as though someone had riveted it there. She used her free hand to pry the tentacle off her arm when another shot out from the cavity and encircled the free wrist as well.

Her eyes darted back and forth between her wrists. The strength of the tentacles overwhelmed her own, pulling her arms to the sides, pulling her body closer to the darkness the tentacles themselves emerged from.

Jane felt her mind slipping. She couldn't comprehend where this creature had come from and much less what it wanted with her at that moment. She hadn't screamed yet, certain this was all still a dream, just a horrible dream and that she would wake up tangled in her own sheets and pajamas any minute now.

Even as she prayed it was a dream, more tentacles emerged from the darkness. These four moved with less speed and more deliberation as they intentionally explored the area around the turkey. Taking their time to feel every nook and cranny of the kitchen, two stretched up above them, leaving a slick trail of slime on Jane's lovely glass paneled cabinets. Jane gagged at the sight and turned her head away, casting her gaze down towards the tiled floor. There she saw the other two tentacles stretching down over the edge of the countertop, down and over the cabinets, reaching the floor in exploration. She believed the tentacles would retract once they reached the cold tile but they continued to stretch...towards her feet.

She wanted to pull away again, she tried but with even the slightest tug against her captor, the grip on her wrists got tighter and tighter. The pressure would only relent if she got closer to the turkey and that was the last thing she wanted right now. As much as possible, she avoided the tentacles but there was only so far she could go and when she got too close to the tentacle, it shot out and wrapped itself around her ankle much as it did to her wrists. Panicking again, she used her free foot to stomp at the tentacle, hoping she could shock it enough to release her. With glee she made contact and brought her foot down with all her might on the alien phalange. The glee was short lived as the tentacle around her ankle constricted with such rage that the pain shot all the way up to her hip. Jane screamed and her vision went completely white. She felt herself falling and somewhere in her mind she feared she'd lose consciousness, then she would be completely defenseless. Then whatever this things was, whatever it wanted...it could vivisect her, eat her, absorb her and she wouldn't be able to do anything. Not that she was doing much now.

Tears pricked her eyes from the pain and she began to scream and sob. She anticipated hitting the tile floor any moment but that moment never came. The pain subsided and Jane's vision slowly returned. She realized she was no longer standing but neither had she fallen. The tentacles held her suspended in the air and finally Jane's worst fears were realized. She was completely helpless. Lord knew how many more tentacles this thing had at its disposal and it could move her in any way it wanted now. She was a barbie doll at the mercy of some sadistic animal. Her imagination went wild with the stories she'd read from crazy people and what they had claimed had been done to them when they were abducted. And even though this wasn't an abduction, she knew this thing was not terrestrial. What did it want from her?

Finding her voice at last, she screamed for help. The creatures free tentacles appeared startled at the sound and one shot for her throat, encircling her neck until the tip of the appendage lined up squarely with her mouth. She immediately closed her lips not wanting to give it any point of entry into her body. The tip slowly approached her lips and circled around, seeking, studying. It touched her lips and she whimpered. Shaking her head and trying to pull back, the tentacle tightened around her neck. Her eyes widened. She could already feel the lightheadedness coming and the tip of its arm continued to poke at her lips. No, she couldn't let it in. The grip around her throat tightened more and she felt the urge to cough. It wanted her to open her mouth. And she would. She knew it would happen: when she either finally surrendered or after she lost consciousness.

Maybe if I cooperate, I can survive this...

She leaned towards the creature and the pressure around her neck decreased. Focusing on anything but the tentacle, Jane allowed her lips to part little by little. The tip slowly wiggled itself between them but met with her clenched teeth. Pressure around her neck returned and Jane took the hint. Reluctantly she relaxed her jaw and her mouth lay open for the creature's inspection. It slid inside and along her tongue. She likened the feeling to having a melting popsicle forced inside her mouth and it tasted just as sweet. The slick thickness probing her mouth felt oddly familiar to her...she was a married woman after all. The sweetness was growing on her to be honest. In an almost involuntary movement, her tongue pressed up and licked the foreign body invading her mouth. The move surprised her but it did not surprise the creature. It toyed with her tongue and Jane could have sworn it got sweeter as it did. A thick, sweet and sticky liquid suddenly filled her mouth. Jane couldn't help but swallow most of it but she felt it spill out onto her lips and dribble down her chin. It reminded Jane of condensed milk and when she looked down, it looked like it too.

Whatever it was, it was inside her now and she could feel it warming her throat and stomach once it landed in her belly. It tasted delicious and the warmth spread throughout her body. Apprehension remained but she did not seem to mind it as much anymore. She knew she needed to escape but it also seemed like it could wait...there was no rush.

The tentacle remained wrapped around her throat but its grip relaxed immensely. The tip stayed inside her mouth, toying with her tongue and sometimes tickling the back of her throat. By this time, Jane had lost count of the number of tentacles that were circling around her at any given moment. She knew each of her limbs was still captive in the hold of a different tentacle but she also noticed more that were not currently occupied had emerged from the same cavity of a turkey that was obviously never going to make it into the oven. Jane didn't mind the turkey going to waste. Turkey is stupid, she thought. But somewhere in the deep darkness of her consciousness, Jane knew that wasn't right. She just didn't care that it wasn't right.

She felt a different sensation now. One of the free tentacles approached her exposed mid-drift. The tip lightly touched the skin above her navel only to snake around behind her. Its touch was warm and it seemed to electrify every square inch of the skin it touched. When it reached the base of her back, she was so caught up in a sensualist rapture that she ignored it hooking its tip under the waistband of her yoga pants. The tentacle began to pull at the fabric gently but the fabric quickly gave way once the attentions became more forceful. Another tentacle approached her belly and slithered its way up instead, giving her shirt the same treatment. All Jane could focus on was the feeling of hot, tiny little feet dancing across her skin and the sweetness sliding down her throat at that very moment.

While her clothes lay in tatters on the floor beneath her, Jane writhed in ecstasy in mid-air. The tentacle around her chest slid the bra straps off her shoulders and then pulled. She opened her eyes and knew that terror should be overwhelming her at what she saw but there was no terror. In the tentacles surrounding her body she noticed each of the suckers had its own individual mouth and a tiny tongue. And with every caress from the tentacle, her body was kissed one million times over. Thus when the tentacle slowly swept her breast and placed its tip on her erect nipple, a feeling of joy and bliss is what overwhelmed her. Yet another tentacle joined the horde and attached itself to her free breast, giving her double the pleasure. Moans she would never have anticipated in this situation were muffled by a fresh serving of the sweet liquid that she swallowed almost gleefully in turn.

She wanted to reach for the tentacle in her mouth. Not to remove it or hurt it, but to caress it. Perhaps to milk it because she knew she wanted more. This creature could have her as long as it would continue to feed her that sweet concoction.

A familiar ache began to grow between her legs. Somewhere in her mind a voice screamed "NO" but it was growing fainter, weaker, and less important by the second. The tentacle around her waist had extended itself all the way around and from the back, the tip had begun to explore the cleft between her thighs. Her knees parted with assistance from the creature. The warmth traveled slowly with the tentacle from the base of her back, between her cheeks, along her taint, even as the tip slithered between her lips right to her pearl just under her mound. A million kisses again and again between her legs. Her eyes could barely focus and they disappeared between lids that grew heavy with passion. The slickness of the tentacle soon encountered her own wetness and she began to move her hips against the tentacle. The creature did not react by tightening its grip. A separate arm joined its brother and assisted Jane in her motions, the first retaining its focus on the hardening nub just above her center.

The newest arm began to explore, however, and parted Jane's folds to reveal a blushing pink that few people other than her husband had seen. With Jane moaning, it toyed with the orifice. It flicked, it probed here and again. And then suddenly Jane body's was wracked with convulsions. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled back, she moved in violent spasms against the tentacles that bound her though she was making no attempt to escape. And despite this, none of the tentacles stopped their attention to her. And thus it happened again, only more violently. And again. And again.

The tentacle that had to that point been threatening to penetrate her withdrew without warning. Jane found herself disappointed instead of relieved. She could feel her own wetness dripping from her. She did not have the words to express how much she needed to feel filled. She wanted the tentacle to return. The creature could have its way with her as long as it slid inside her and helped her find more release.

A sound startled her out of her stupor and she opened her eyes. The turkey itself had split itself further and something different began to happen. One tentacle unlike any of the others emerged from the fissure and grew longer and thicker in front of her. This one had none of the suckers that the others had but had a ball like head at its tip. A second and a third tentacle just like it appeared alongside it. Apprehension renewed, adrenaline began to course through her body. Her limbs trembling, the tentacles holding her renewed their strength to keep her still. The one in her mouth pulsed and delivered a little more of its juice down into her throat which only helped to remove a little of the fear because Jane refused to take her eyes off the newest development in front of her. She watched the heads of each new tentacle split down the middle. Each new head had its own hole at the tip, each leaking a yellowish fluid that both terrified her and excited her.

Pleasure returned as the mouths around her breasts, nipples, and clit renewed their efforts. Another orgasm was climbing to the surface inside her and she knew with this one there would be an entirely new feeling assaulting her consciousness. The six heads leaned towards her while the tentacles supporting her body moved her closer as well. Just as her newest climax reached its peak, she felt the folds of her pussy spread apart and a pressure against her increasingly wet opening. One head penetrated and as it did, the head as well as its shaft swelled. Three other heads followed suit and before long she felt as though she might be split apart if any of the other two heads attempted to invade her.