Toys

Author:
Keywords:
Inflation Types:
Popping:
Date Written: 
09/12/1995

It was simple really. I slipped the powder into Ann's drink when she wasn't looking. After all the practice I've had, it wasn't hard. Now all I had to do was to get her outside.

"Care to continue our jog?" Looking faintly distracted, probably the beginning effects of the powder, she nodded. Stepping out of her small apartment, we set off northward through the park.

Ann is quite a catch, if I do say so myself. Standing at almost five nine, she carries her 112 pounds like a model, which she is. As if anyone could mistake those blue eyes and gorgeous hair for anything less. A bit lanky for my tastes, but we can't have everything... yet.

The powder kicked in once we had reached a suitably secluded spot. I was quite impressed with my timing. A strange gurgling hiss was heard, and Ann slowed her pace to put both hands on her stomach. There. Hardly noticeable, but I've had plenty of practice for it. A definite swelling of her left breast, barely visible. Of course she made it easy by wearing that spandex leotard and tights. We had been running before she had invited me in for a quick glass of orange juice, don't you know.

Putting on my best face of concern I inquired, "Are you alright?"

"I... I don't feel so good. Rather bloated in fact. I must have drank too much back at the house. I should go back." She managed an apologetic smile. We had been running together for three weeks now and this would be the first time we missed the end run through the park.

Her chest was noticeably bigger now, the hissing continuing. She wasn't sure what was going on, but it couldn't be long before she noticed. I saw her glance down, then do a double take with that delightfully cute surprised look of hers.

"I... I'm growing?!?" Raising her hands, she cupped her breasts. Growing isn't quite the word for it, but close enough. The hissing increased in intensity as I watched her chest expand even further. By now she had become a D cup; a far cry from her C of earlier. "What's happening to me?" she marveled, staring down in shock.

"You're inflating. You know, like a balloon," I added helpfully. Her hands flew to her hips as they too began to puff up, stretching her spandex outward. Her formerly svelte body had begun to bring to my mind the much more robust beauties of the 40's. Now those were the years!

"My God, Mitch. You've to to help me! Call a doctor or something!" In awe of her swelling body, she stared as her chest bulged outward, revealing deep cleavage and pulling her leotard tighter and tighter. My practiced eye measured her at high forties on the top, still the same thing twenty at the waist, and her now improved hips at an even forty.

"Help you? Why? I like the new you." I always smile at this point to show my sincerity, but they never take it that way.

She turned from me and shouted loudly for aid, but I haven't gotten this far without planning ahead. We were in a fairly secluded spot and at the rate she was swelling, she soon would be unable to escape. Not to say she didn't try. With a desperate dash, she took off, soon slowing to a jog, then a waddle as the inflation continued. By now her chest resembled the prow of a rubber raft, trying to squeeze out of her clothing. It's fortunate she wasn't wearing a bra. Some had been before and had been slightly damaged by the constriction. And lets not even talk about corsets. One poor dear nearly suffocated under her own bosom before I could cut the strings to her lacings. Her lower body had kept pace with her chest, legs ballooning outward in fine shape, resembling her excellent gams (I know, dating myself once again) but being many sizes larger. Her buttocks were half moons of perfection, although the way her leotard was digging up had to be uncomfortable. Ah the wonders of spandex. The dresses of yesteryear had hid this so well.

Her arms had started bulking up as well, the gasses generated by the powder doing their work. Slowly she took a position as if she were doing jumping jacks. I could hear her frantic panting as she tried to keep running; but, like in a nightmare, she slowed even further as I walked up behind her.

The quality of her spandex was amazing! Pumped with gas, her breasts strained to escape while the rest of her stretched every seam. Still the shimmering material held on. She now looked like a rubber doll from one of those tacky novelty stores that had been severely overinflated.

"Please," she gasped, terrified of all of this and near hysteria. "Please stop it. Make it stop."

She struggled to take another step forward, her leg resisting the movement. The pressure must have been immense, but still she tried. Can I pick them or what? Instead of moving however, she lost her balance. Falling forward was not great problem. She hit ground while at nearly a forty degree angle, her watermelon sized breasts bouncing her back upwards in a lazy motion. A wild shriek left her as the movement continued, lifting her high off the ground.

"Oh stop it. No one's hurting you," I remarked as she continued to caterwaul. Snagging one of her legs as it went by and giving it an appreciative squeeze, I pulled her down. She now was an exaggerated parody of a woman, huge breasts stretching spandex so thin that it was nearly transparent over massive hips and legs. "See, you're fine."

Admittedly, being unable to move must be something of a shocker, but she recovered well. "Lemme go! This is impossible!"

"Around here? yes," I commented as I gave one enormous orb a poke. It squeaked against her other breast with the sound two balloons make when rubbing together. Truly remarkable spandex. I'll have to look that company up next time I go through. Putting one ear against her drum tight chest and ignoring her outraged gasp of protest, I listened. The hissing, outside of an occasional peep, had ceased. "There now, all finished." I patted her fondly on the cheek.

Forgetting to hold on to her of course. I must be getting old. She floated upwards quickly, fear shooting through her eyes. I caught her by the leg again, pulling her down.

"Please," she whispered, "What's happening. Who are you..."

Ah, and right at the prearranged time. This was one of the days to be very amazed with my timing. The gate opened up directly behind me as she stared into it, her physical condition forgotten for a moment.

"Me, why, I'm a toy collector for a, um... company in what you would call a parallel dimension. This millennia I'm collecting what you would term children's balloons." Letting her see a bit of my true face I smiled again, watching her pale.

"But what does that have to do with me?" She managed to gasp out. The process cuts off a lot of air to the victim, something to do with pressure on the lungs I'm told. Thus her constant panting is accounted for.

"Why, silly, you're the balloon. Come along now, I know a nice little, oh, I guess you'd call him a boy, that will absolutely adore you."

I pushed her into the warp gate, realizing that she had passed out sometime earlier. Really now, how rude. And just when I had gone and made her a work of art. No, really! You humans are quite popular over here as this sort of thing.

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