Martha wakes up in her bed with dreams of being a blueberry on her mind.  But her loving husband is there to reassure her that it was just a silly dream as he gives her blueberry pancakes.  Martha has to swell up strong for the blueberry festival after all.  Opps I misspoke.  Her blueberries have to swell up strong.  Such a slip of the tongue.  (This story is in early access on my Patreon and will come to DA on Sept 8th)

An elderly man looked at his pocket watch. “Yes, we know. You were supposed to be here two minutes ago. You are late.” He looked at his co-judges. “You do know being late affects your score, right?”

             Gurrgle. “No. I didn’t know that.” Martha gulped. “Shesh, these people are much stricter than they were last year.”

             The judge looked up at Martha. “Now, if you would please. . .” His eyes widened. “Miss, if you are trying to earn extra points painting yourself in blue paint won’t do you any favors.”

             “Painting myself in blue paint? What are you talking about?” Gurrgle. Blort. 

Martha moaned. “Look, can I please just have my. . .” She pulled at her pants. “Ugh fuck I am becoming bloated, aren’t I? This isn’t starting off well at all. I need to focus. I need to win. I need to. . .” She looked down at her waistline and gasped as she saw her blue hands. “Ahhhhhh!”

             Martha shivered, speaking over the elderly judge. “How did I turn blue?” The judge stood up, pointing at her. “This isn’t possible. I can’t be blue. I just. . .”

             “Ma’am. Will you please calm down?”

             One of the other judges gasped. “Her blouse!” She pointed at Martha’s chest. “It is turning dark blue. And so are her pants.”

             Martha shivered. “Ughh, I feel so weird.” She leaned forward, her body feeling heavy as if a strange liquid was now coursing through her veins.  Gurrgle. “I feel so full.”gue.