Inflation Madness!

Or, “The Devil’s Air!”

[WARNING: The people and events described in this morality tale are TRUE. Only the names have been changed. Although shocking, this tale must be told! Parents must be aware that a new fad has begun amongst America’s youth, more corrupting than rock ‘n’ roll, marijuana, and Communism combined! That fad is...INFLATION! Yes, INFLATION, in which wild, unrestrained teenage hooligans blow themselves up like balloons! Those Americans who wish to preserve our democratic way of life must step forward to erase this scourge of our youth--this impossible, unnatural, downright bizarre, and more-than-slightly sexually titillating fad! Let others learn a lesson from the acts described within! And then maybe masturbate.]

Our story begins at a malt shoppe. It could be any malt shoppe in America. But it wasn’t; it was Louie’s Malts, where the annual hula-hoop contest was, if you’ll pardon the pun (and even if you don’t) in full swing.

Sitting proudly in his father’s new Edsel, Lemuel gazed over at his sultry date, the lovely Carmella, a tall, dark brunette with cat-like eyes. She arched her back, pushing her pert, pointed breasts outward until they threatened to burst her tight, embroidered sweater. Lem knew that his parents didn’t approve of Carmella, the neighborhood Bad Girl. But gosh darn it, he liked her, and was going to date her even if his parents objected! He may even kiss her!

Carmella rolled her tongue around her sensuous mouth, suppressing a yawn. She reached out of the passenger window and grabbed a pink balloon, which was one of many that were tied to the parking posts in celebration of the contest. She plucked the balloon from the post, untied the knot, and put her full red lips around it before blowing it up larger.

“Golly, Carmella!” said the shocked Lemuel. “You shouldn’t’a oughta do that! Why, those balloons belong to Mr. Louie!”

Carmella continued to blow, the pink balloon stretching out farther in front of her, touching the dashboard as it grew to its fullest size.

“Gosh o golly!” Lem cried out, near tears. “Don’t, Carmella! You’ll pop it, and we’ll get into trouble!” He looked around to see if anyone was watching this reckless, rebellious act, but all nearby spectators were watching the center of the parking lot, where the hula-hoop contest continued with wild abandon.

The large, taut balloon squeaked as Carmella rubbed her hands seductively over it, bracing the balloon between her mouth and the dash, the balloon having taken up most of the remaining room in the front seat.

“Please! It’s going to pop!” Lem covered his ears just seconds before a “BANG!” reduced the pink balloon to shards. Carmella threw her head back and laughed as Lemuel’s eyes darted guiltily around, looking for a disapproving sign of authority.

Seeing Lem’s whitened knuckles on the steering wheel, Carmella ran her fingers through his hair and cooed, “Don’t be such a square, Daddy-O! It was just a balloon. Balloons live to be popped. They want to be popped. There’s only one thing better than popping balloons, you know.”

Lem swallowed. “W-what’s that, Carm?”

She leaned closer and breathed into his ear, “I’ll show you.”

At that moment, the audience burst into a round of applause as a black-jacketed young man began spinning a hula-hoop around his waist, shooting the crowd a thumbs-up and an “Ayyyy!”

Carmella’s cheeks puffed out as she let out a heavy sigh that blew the seductive black hair out of her large green eyes. “But first,” she said, with a hint of annoyance, “let’s buh-llloooow this pop stand.”

“It’s a malt shoppe,” Lem corrected, but his mind lingered on the way Carmella had said the word “blow.” He knew that his body was going through some wonderful and mysterious changes, and he thought that Carmella may have just triggered another one.

They drove off into the darkened streets, riding silently until Carmella ordered him, “Turn right here.”

“But Carmie! This neighborhood is for tough guys, punks, hoodlums, and Socialists!”

Carmella rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get it. You’re uptight. Just pull over here.”

It was indeed a dark, ominous, foreboding part of town, and an apprehensive Lemuel found himself following his hot date into a large tenement located between a VD clinic and a lawyer firm. The shades were pulled, but light creeped out of the cracks, accompanied by the sounds of giggling and artificial hissing, which Lem wrote off as coming from the ventilation system. They walked through dimly lit hallways until they entered a large, lighted, gymnasium-sized room.

The room was filled with human balloons. At first, they all looked just like giant party balloons, albeit with rubber, puffy faces and pudgy hands and feet sticking out of their round, ball-shaped midsections. But a second glance quickly revealed that these were formerly people, now turned into balloons, some sitting contentedly on the tile floor, others batting lightly about against the ceiling. Lem gaped as he craned his neck, watching the people-balloons floating about, before his gaze dropped down to the ones on the ground, and finally looking to see what was right in front of him: Two more pairs of teens, each standing in front of a tank, one marked “AIR,” and the other marked “HELIUM.”

In front of the air tank, a pretty, busty blonde with a ponytail and glasses plugged the hose into her boyfriend’s mouth as her hand cranked up the pump. The young man’s belly surged forward, looking comically pregnant, until the rest of his body plumped up, becoming more balloon-like. As he grew, the blonde turned to acknowledge the new visitors.

“Carmella! Have you brought us another toy?”

“Hey, Jacqueline,” said Carmella. “This is Lemuel. He’s new to this bag, so I thought I’d show him a real blow-out time.”

Lem spun to face Carmella. “You’re a regular here? B-but this is an inflation den! I read about these in school! They say that these places are addictive and lead us on the path to vice!”

Jacqueline frowned. “Hey, Carm, this cat’s dragging me down.”

“It’s all right, Jackie,” Carmella assured her. “I think this cat’s a tiger! Isn’t that right, Lem?”

Lem wiped his brow. “Well...”

“That’s the spirit! This place is the swinging-est! It’s just swell!” Carmella looked over Jacqueline’s shoulder. “Speaking of swell, it looks like Dion’s about to pop.”

Jacqueline looked behind her at her swelling boyfriend. “Oh, yeah!” she said, running back to the pump, disconnecting the hose from her boyfriend Dion’s mouth, apparently just in time, as Dion had swollen so big and round that even his head and extremities were about to be absorbed into his round body. His puffy face smiled, even as he sat before the spectators as a fragile balloon, seeming so tight that the slightest prick could cause him to burst like a soap bubble.

“Me next,” said Jacqueline, holding the hose up to her mouth. “You want to do the honors, Carm?”

“I got a better idea,” said Carmella, pulling Lem over to the tank.

“Ohhhh, no!” Lem protested. “Inflation is not my bag! I have no interest in inflating this...this ...young...blond...attractive...busty teenage girl!”

“He’ll do it,” said Carmella. Jacqueline smiled coquettishly and put the hose in her mouth. Carmella stood behind Lem and steered his hand onto the pump and placed his hand on the nozzle. With little more goading--and with the feeling of Carmella’s pert, young, gravitationally challenged breasts pressing into his back--Lem turned on the pump.

Jacqueline’s eyes shot open in ecstasy. All at once, her body plumped up, and her breasts swelled larger, shooting out further from her sweater as they doubled in size.

Carmella wrapped her arm gently around Lem’s neck as she saddled her sweet-swelling body even closer to him, so she could whisper, “I bet you never knew they could be so big, did you, Lem? Well, they’re about to be a lot bigger.”

Lem found himself at a loss for words. Jacqueline’s breasts did get a lot larger, quickly reaching beach-ball size as her torso expanded outwards, tightening the fabric on her dress, which became more and more snug as her inflation increased. Her cheeks, her arms and legs, and even her hands and feet plumped up as the air reached into ever nook and cranny of her body. Lem heard stitches tear in her sweater as her sides became more curved, more ball-shaped.

Carmella giggled into Lem’s ear. “More, Lem! Turn it up more! Make her grow faster! Watch her get bigger!”

With Carmella’s fingers guiding--but not forcing--his hand, he turned up the crank. Jacqueline let out a “Mmmph!” as she looked down and around at her rapidly bloating body. It would be the last look she could take, as her neck quickly expanded and spread out into her body, her head now immobile. “Mmmm!” she said, her eyes bulging, though it was unclear if this was from fear or pleasure.

“Faster, Lem!” Carmella giggled. “Faster! Make her grow faster! Blow her up bigger! Make her really, really huge!”

He turned up the pump. Jacqueline grew faster, her growth surged, her body ballooned. She waved her stubby hands in either resistance or excitement; Lem wasn’t sure. Her head was now a round ball, although much smaller than the giant sphere on which it rested. Her clothes ripped and shredded, revealing her pink bra and panties, which held on but pressed into her flesh as she continued to grow.

“Touch her, Lem,” Carmella told him. “Touch her.” Lem did so, putting his hand on Jacqueline’s expanding midsection, his hand being forced back as he met more and more resistance. Still, he continued to press his hand against her increasingly taut skin. “Can you feel it, Lem? Can’t you feel her getting bigger? She’s so soft, yet so firm. Smooth, round, and inflated, just a like a big, beautiful, blond balloon. And she’s still growing...and growing...”

“Mmmph!” said Jacqueline. Despite the increase of air, her inflation was slowing, as she simply grew too big for the increased pressure to do anything else but cause her to squeak and strain.

“More, Lem! She’s slowing down!”

Lem swallowed. “I can’t! She’s about to blow!”

“More! Make her bigger!” She held his hand as they turned to crank full blast.

“Mmmmmmm!!” Jacqueline cried, and her growth surged again, causing Lem and Carmella to take several steps back.

“We’ve got to stop!” said Lem. “She’ll burst!”

“What did I tell you about balloons, Lem? Balloons lived to be popped! They want to be popped!”

“I don’t think she wants to explode, Carmy!”

“All right, then. Stop. Stop the pump.” Carmella removed her hand.

A second passed. Lem was left in control of the pump, but it was still pumping full blast. Lem watched Jacqueline grow and grow. He hesitated. And just as he was about to shut off the pump--

BLAM!!

Jacqueline burst into fragments, scraps of her clothing smacking Lem in the face. Carmella burst out laughing. The room full of human balloons had decidedly mixed reactions. Some went “Oooh” and “Ahhh,” while others laughed or giggled. But one balloon looked fit to burst.

“You--you popped her! You bastard!” Dion managed to say after the shock passed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Carmella cooed, stepping closer to Dion. “We don’t talk like that in this era. It’s such a drag.”

“And you!” spat Dion. “You helped him do it! You’re going to the chair, you slut!”

Carmella only smiled. It was a smile that gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach--all 10 cubic feet of it. She placed her hands on Dion’s taut skin and dragged one of her long, sharp fingernails over it.

“Of course,” Dion quickly added, “I won’t say anything to anybody!”

“No, you certainly won’t.” Carmella stopped moving her finger, instead fixing it on a single point.

“Wait! Please! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” she asked. She smirked, tilted her head, and raised an eyebrow in such a way as to convey the total, absolute control she had over his fate at that moment.

“Yes! Anything!”

“Good,” she said. “Then pop for me. Pop like the balloon you are!”

“No!”

“Oh, yes,” she said, and with little effort, pushed her fingernail slowly but forcefully into his round body.

“Ohhh--!” Dion had time for only a quick, desperate groan before--BANG!! He too burst into shreds.

The other balloons laughed or gaped again, depending on their level of amusement or degree of sanity. Carmella turned her attention back to Lemuel, who backed away from her as she approached. “Mom and Dad were right about you!” he whined. “You’re a Bad Girl!”

“And you’re a bad boy,” she said, stepping forward and grabbing his shirt to hold him in place. “You had time to stop the pump, Lem. Why didn’t you? Why did you let her burst?”

“I...didn’t have time!”

She laughed. “Oh, you had time, Lem. I saw you. I saw you watching her grow. You didn’t want it to stop. You wanted her bigger. That’s why you didn’t turn off the pump. That’s why you let her pop. Face it, Lem, you’re one of us!” She gestured around the room at all the inflated balloons around the room. “You’re an inflation freak now, just like we are!”

“No! I’m nothing like you are! It was an accident!”

“Oh, yeah? Then why didn’t you help Dion? Why didn’t you stop me from popping him? Or why not even run away and get help?”

“I--I--just didn’t think you’d--”

Carmella ignored his protests. “Tell me, Lem, what were you thinking? Just before she burst, I mean. Was it watching her grow that fascinated you? Or the thought of watching her pop? Or the fact that, for that one moment, you were in total control? Or was it something more?” She placed her hands on his chest, and her touch was so warm and sensual that his resistance blew away. “Were you wondering what it was like? What it was like to be a balloon? To feel your body getting bigger in every way, to feel yourself expanding from the inside, to inflate so large you could fill a house? To have all control stripped away from your body grows, pushes outward, unable to stop, not knowing if--or when--you’ll explode?”

“I don’t want to be a balloon,” he said feebly.

“Let me ask you: Are you afraid I’ll let you burst, or are you more afraid that you’ll like being a balloon?”

“Join us!” said one of the female balloons from her spot against the ceiling.

“Join us!” said another, and soon Lem was surrounded by calls of “Join us!” and “Do it!” and “Be a balloon!”

Carmella smiled as she picked up the hose from the helium tank and held it in front of his mouth. “What’s the matter, Lem?” she said teasingly. “Can’t take the...pressure?”

He couldn’t. Weak willed and eager to please--and more than a little fascinated at the prospect of inflating--Lem brought the hose up to his mouth. “Promise me that you won’t take advantage of me when I’m all blown up?”

“No promises.”

“Oh. Well, do you at least promise not to pop me?”

“Nope, I won’t promise that.”

“Okay, then.” Lem stuck the hose in his mouth.

Carmella giggled again and cranked up the helium, smiling devilishly as he bloated up, his body slowly but surely billowing outward. In about a minute, his tattered clothes began to fall off his round, spherical body, and he began to drift upward, lifting off the floor and looking down at the beaming Carmella as he floated higher and higher, while still increasing in size. Eventually, the hose reached the end of its length, and Lem bobbed helplessly in the air, held in place by the hose, which still continued to force more and more helium inside him. Carmella craned her neck to watch him get bigger and bigger and bigger...

“How does it feel, Lem?” she called up to him. “You’re nothing but a helium balloon!”

Strangely, it was only then that it sunk in: Yes, he was just a helium balloon. He existed only to inflate and grow larger, nothing else. There was no fear of bursting. After all, balloons had no say in whether or not they popped, so why should he? He just let it happen, let himself inflate larger and larger. As for how it felt...Even if he could speak, there were no words to describe it. The constant pressure from inside, forcing him larger, was downright orgasmic but on a much larger scale.

He looked down at the smiling Carmella and knew that his willpower was gone, as was any sense of control. All the power he knew was now in Carmella’s hands--as it should be.

He grew unbelievably big, bigger than he hoped, bigger than he could have dreamed. He didn’t know when it would stop, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to.

But it did. After what felt like hours, Carmella turned off the pump and yanked the hose out of Lem’s mouth. Free from his restraint, he floated the short distance upwards to the ceiling, bouncing off some fellow balloons.

“No, I’m not going to pop you now, Lem,” Carmella called up to him. “I don’t have to. You’ll deflate and return home, but you’ll never be the same. Once you’re a balloon, you’ll always be a balloon. Or want to be. You’ll never again be satisfied just being normal sized, normal shaped. You’ll want to be a balloon forever. And you’ll want to be bigger. Each time you’ll want to be bigger than the last. And you won’t care if you burst--you’ll have to be bigger! That’s what they call Inflation Madness. And now you have it too, Lem.”

But if Lemuel heard, he didn’t seem to care. He smiled as he bounced against the ceiling, just a big...fat...happy...balloon.

It was only the next night when Lem rolled around on his bed, moaning. Lucent images were floating all around him, indicating that he was dreaming. The images were of balloon people, growing, inflating, floating, bouncing--and popping. He saw an air tank, its hose beckoning him like a waving arm. And he saw faces, including Carmella’s, laughing and laughing at him. “You’ve got inflation madness,” said her echoing voice, as Lem continued tossing and turning. “You want to be a balloon! You have to be a balloon! You want to be bigger! You’ll always want to be bigger! Even if you burst! You’ll never be satisfied until you’re the biggest balloon ever! You’ve got inflation madness!

“Inflation madness!

“Inflation madness!!

“INFLATION MADNESS-ess-ess-ess-ess-ess!”

“Ghaa!” shouted Lem, as he sat upright in bed. Another part of his body was sitting upright as well. He slipped down the stairs, stole the keys to the Edsel, and headed back to the inflation den, home of the Hep Inflation Cats.

“Outta sight!” Lem said as he entered the den, with all the balloon people sitting and floating about the room.

In the middle of the room, Carmella turned away from her air pump to face him. She had been inflating a fellow member, a young man who was now just a big balloon ball, already towering over Carmella, and still rapidly growing in every direction.

“Well, well, well, look who’s back,” said Carmella, walking up to Lem as the hose continued to inflate the young man behind her. “So I was right: You got the Urge now.”

“I can quit any time I want to,” Lem insisted.

“But you don’t want to quit tonight,” Carmella mocked him.

Behind her, the young man began to squeak. Carmella turned to look at him, as his swelling slowed and the noise grew louder. The man’s eyes widened, and he tried to spit the hose out from his mouth, but all he did was comically puff his cheeks in and out like a frog. He looked pleadingly at Carmella, who merely stood and waved. The man had time to let out a “Mmmmphhh!” before he went--POP!! The hose dropped to the floor as pieces of the man’s shredded jacket and pants scattered about the room, amidst rollicking laughter from the other balloons.

“The crowd seems quite gay tonight,” noted Lem. “And by ‘gay,’ I of course mean it in the traditional sense, that of being happy.”

“Of course,” said Carmella. “What other meaning is there?” She brushed the issue away. “So what’ll be this time, Lem? Air or helium?”

“Helium, please,” he said. He stripped off his outer clothes to reveal a tight elastic scuba suit, much more suitable to inflation. “And don’t spare the tank. I’m going to be HUGE.”

Carmella smiled. “Yes, I think you are.”

“But, uh, this is the last time.”

“Oh, I believe it,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“Open wide,” she said, holding the hose out to him.

Lem looked around. “Isn’t there anyone else who can operate the pump?”

“Jim would,” she told him. “But he just exploded.”

“Oh,” said Lem, and put the hose in his mouth.

Carmella turned on the pump and watched him swell for several seconds, until he was nice and plump and unable to move his puffy form. His body stretched out the scuba suit, blimping up and outward until, less than a minute later, he had a balloon for a body. “So you want to be huge, eh, Lem? You want to be even bigger than before, don’t you?”

“Mmm-mmmm,” he moaned in assent as well as pleasure.

She watched him grow for a few seconds, still expanding as he gently lifted off the floor and floated slowly upward.

“Bigger, Lem?” Carmella asked softly.

“Mmm-mmm.” He kept growing, floating up and up.

“More?” She asked.

“Mm-mmm.”

She gently turned the crank on the helium tank, and Lem swelled slightly faster. Carmella watched him for a few moments more.

“Bigger, Lem?”

But at this point, Lem couldn’t even speak. He was lost in a dream world.

“Well, then,” said Carmella, her hand still on the crank, “if you have no objections...” She smiled villainously. She watched him bet bigger and--

BANG! There was a pounding at the door. Carmella turned away from Lem, her smile dropping suddenly from her face as she turned to the window. Outside she saw red flashing lights. The bulls! Coppers! The pigs!

The banging at the door continued. “Ar’right, lads and lassies! This is Sgt. O’Malley, and for shore I’m shuttin’ this place down! Open up! Open up, I say!”

Carmella scowled. “So! The pigs think they can stop me, do they? Well, there’s only one thing to do: Destroy the evidence!” With maniacal laughter, Carmella twisted the helium tank nozzle full blast, cackling as Lem’s eyes shot open wide, his inflation surging with a mighty gust. His expansion continued at a breakneck pace.

Meanwhile, the crazed-eyed Carmella looked at all the helpless balloons around her. Still laughing, she raced around the room, popping the human balloons left and right, squeezing them, poking them with her fingernails, stomping on them with her high heels! Pop, pop, pop! Some balloons had only moments to plead for mercy, another only went “Ooooh!” before she picked him up and squeezed him to her chest, popping him.

Outside, Sgt. O’Malley turned to his partner. “Faith’n Begorra, laddie! Shore’n if it don’t sound like carnage in there! Break down the door! Put you shoulder to it!”

Officer Walt Denton turned the doorknob. “It’s open, chief.”

O’Malley shot Walt an irritated look but threw the door open, and the men gaped at what they saw: A giant human balloon--formerly Lemuel, but now just a blimp--which was rapidly filling the entire room. His round body, suspended in the air, continued to expand upward, coming into contact with other floating human balloons, all of which suddenly found themselves more and more confined. Lemuel’s growing body pressed into them pushing them against the ceiling, applying more and more pressure to their round, fragile bodies.

And they began to pop like bubble wrap.

“Stop!” shouted one, just before she burst.

“Help!” shouted another, before he went pop!

“Yes, yes! Pop me! Pop me! Pop me!” shouted a female balloon, and she soon got her wish.

All the while, the officers stared in disbelief, and Carmella just howled with laughter.

“Quick, laddie!” said O’Malley. “Turn off that pump!”

“Screw that!” said Walt, and he covered his ears.

Lemuel was now pressed against the ceiling, but he still grew, filling up the room, free to grow now that every other balloon had burst. He looked down at Carmella, watching him with those crazed eyes, just waiting for him to reach his limits. He knew it was coming, knew he would soon burst...

And he didn’t care. So this is inflation madness! So be it! I’m a balloon!, he thought. Balloons want to burst! Let me burst! Let me BURST! Let me--!!

The explosion knocked Carmella off her feet, and she lay back on the floor, holding her sides. Timidly, the officers approached her, taking time to look around at the shreds of balloons that littered every corner of the room.

“You see, Officer Denton?” said O’Malley, pointing to Carmella, who was laughing insanely, obviously unhinged. “That’s the true Inflation Madness right there: Once a person pops a human balloon, they can’t stop! Oh, why do kids get taken in by this lunacy, Denton? Don’t they know there are plenty of other ways to enjoy life? There’s drive-in movies! Malt shoppes! Popular songs, like those of Glen Miller and Duke Ellington! There’s practicing good hygiene, like flossing every day! Don’t you agree, laddie?”

Walt didn’t answer. O’Malley looked over his shoulder, and then did a double take.

Denton floated over O’Malley’s head, the buttons shooting off his uniform as the helium tank pumped on and on and on...

[And so ends our cautionary tale, a tale of tragedy, pathos, and balloon people. But beware! The next person who falls victim to Inflation Madness may be...YOU!]

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