MONDAY MORNING
The early morning sun sliced through the blinds of Big Red's (Marla's) kitchen, the air thick with summer heat and the sugary smell of vanilla. An old ceiling fan creaked overhead, pushing warm air in lazy circles as the pot on the stove burbled and spat, molten marshmallow goo stretching like syrup between her wooden spoon and the bubbling surface.
Her apron clung to her curves, freckles dusted in sugar, hair frizzing at the edges from the heat. A puff of mallow dust exploded from the pot--POOF--coating her flushed face. She sneezed, and in that instant, the walls wobbled, softened, then melted into swirls of pink taffy, the whole room breathing like something alive.
•••••
The Marshmallow Overlords oozed from the taffy walls, blobs with melting faces, stretchy limbs snapping like rubber bands.
Their leader, Globulous, gurgled through a maw of toasted teeth: "Sticky sweet meat...PREP THE FONDUE PITS!"
Globulous split into tentacles, whipping around her ankles, yanking her into a quicksand pit of melted marshmallow. "STRETCH HER!" he roared.
The horde swarmed, malleable hands morphing into knobbed cocks, pumping her holes with sugar-laced thrusts.
SQUELCH-SNAP-SQUELCH!
"FUCK-YES! SMORE ME!" she howled, her hair tangling in their gummy goo.
A marshmallow nymph sprouted breasts that dripped caramel lactate, sucking Big Red's nipples into swollen mounds. "DRINK," it hissed, syrup spilling down her chin.
Another nymph molded itself into a bench of throbbing gummy cocks, ramming her doggy style while taunting, "CRISPY BITCH BREAKS EASY!"
Globulous merged with her, filling her gut with marshmallow spunk that expanded like bread dough.
"BLOAT FOR US," he chanted, her belly straining as mini mallow fetuses kicked inside. She screamed, vomiting rainbow sprinkles, an orgasm detonating the dimension.
POP!!
She jolted awake on the kitchen floor, body glued to the linoleum with crystallized goo, thighs glistening like glazed ham.
Her husband peered down, spatula in hand. "Burn the treats again?"
She grinned, plucking a taffy hand from her navel.
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Big Red cranked open the can of Jolly Green Giant green beans. Her apron stuck to her tank top, sweat beading between her sunburnt tits.
"Salad's for suckers," she snorted, dumping the beans into a chipped bowl with a wet slap. The flickering kitchen light buzzed like a fly zapper, the air humming with static.
The label's grinning giant twitched. Then--
