How would I Inflate You 4: Live Free or Inflate Hard

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GiftedShana's picture
How would I Inflate You 4: Live Free or Inflate Hard

This is the fourth(?) in a series of creative forum posts. This is where willing writers come together when they have time to supply short inflative-tales to prospecting posters. Rules are as follows:

1: To request a possible short story, simply post and give some details about what you'd like done. The more details, the better the writer is likely to make the story.

2: Don't continually repost or ask specific writers for a story. Writers are doing this strictly on their free time, so expect there to be days or weeks before someone responds.

3: Writers are to respond to a request by replying to that specific post. In case of a tie between writers, the first registered replier gets the job.

4: Be patient and enjoy the stories. This is a creative outlet for not only for the writers but for the community as a whole. Remember that demand, as it pertains to this thread, will always outweigh supply.

With that, writers and requesters have at, and for examples, please see the older "How would I Inflate you" threads.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.



Thanks for making the thread Shana, hopefully this experiment turns out some awesome results!

GiftedShana's picture

Your hopes are mine. Lets see how the next 24 hours treat it.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.



First off thanks a bunch for getting this thread started, massive props to you! 

Details about myself; I'm male, tall, and slim build. I prefer blueberry inflation in a public place with some slight humiliation and rolling. I'm also into popping! 

Once again thanks a bunch! 

eljacko15's picture

It was a brisk Autumn day when you made the mistake of sharing a bench with me in the crowded park.

"Good morning," I said, and you nodded a half-hearted reply, trying not to be rude without initiating a conversation.

While you went about your business reading the newspaper, I surreptitiously allowed a small stick of gum to slip from my pocket and onto the bench between us. It was a minute or two before you noticed it, but when you did your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to ask, "Is this yours?"

"What?" I said. "No, certainly not. You can have it."

"I don't want it," you said. But even as you spoke you realized that it wasn't true. You could really go for a piece of gum right about then, and the package around the stick proclaimed it to be Blueberry Flavor, one of your favorites. You tried to be inconspicuous as you reached for the gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into your mouth.

You knew you had made the right choise as soon as the intense flavor hit your taste buds and washed over you. It was easily the best blueberry gum you'd ever had -- no -- the best gum, period! The gum was making your mouth remarkably wet, too. If you didn't know better, you would have sworn that you were actually gulping down 100% pure blueberry juice, though that was, of course, preposterous.

"You aren't looking right, there," I said, jolting you out of your reverie.

"Huh?" you said, noting with a twinge of embarassment that some liquid had spilled out of your mouth and dribbled down your chin, onto your shirt. You looked down to examine the fallen liquid and realized, to your great surprise, that it was a solid, dark blue. You were even more shocked when you saw your hand. Your entire hand had somehow turned a deep azure. You glanced at your other hand, and found it to be the same. You rolled up your sleeve partway, and saw that your arm, too, was blue. So, upon further inspection, were your feet, your legs, your chest, and, you could only assume, your face. People's heads were beginning to turn your way. Some were stopping to watch you.

"What the hell is this?" you gasped. "The gum . . . ?"

"Undoubtedly the gum," I said, rising to my feet.

"What?" You rose to your feet as well. "Do you know something about this? What's happening?"

But I ignored your entreaties and began waving to the crowd, urging them to gather around closer and get a better look at you. I removed my hat and placed it on the ground, indicating a request for donations.

"Come one, come all, come see the astounding, confounding blueberry man!" I shouted over the din of the confused parkgoers. "Today only, he will undergo a curious transformation for your amusement!"

"Wait, is it not over?" you asked.

As if in answer, someone pointed at you and shouted, "Look at his belly!"

Sure enough, your abdomen was undergoing a swift and profound change. Where formerly you had been trim and flat, you were now sporting a visible gut that was expanding before your very eyes, and the eyes of the parkgoers. Very soon it was the size of the beach ball, and by then some of your other extremities had begun to join in. Your thighs bloated, your chest surged, and your ass swelled. As you grew larger and larger, and more and more of you joined in on the party, your clothes got tighter and tighter. Your shirt was the first to go, revealing your bare chest and huge blue belly to the crowd. Your cheeks turned a noticeably darker shade.

"That's right, ladies and gentlemen," I said, as one individual tossed a dollar into the hat and came in closer to observe you. Another individual did the same, approaching you close enough to give your belly an investigative prod.

"Hey," I snapped at them. "You'll all get a chance to roll him later, but for now keep your hands to yourself."

It wasn't long before your limbs started to lose definition. Your flailing arms lost much of their ability to move as they merged more and more with the globe that your body was becoming. Your legs did the same, and you were soon left rocking on the bulbous region that had formerly been your crotch. Aside from your underwear, which was still relatively intact, your clothing was mostly in tatters. By the time you stopped changing shape there were few features left to distinguish you from a massive blueberry, save for your hands, feet, head, and the vague suggestion of what had once been your butt. You towered over the crowd and several of the smaller trees, being some 10 or more feet across the showing no sign of stopping. While your shape was no longer rapidly changing, the same could not be said at all for your size. And with every inch that you grew, you could feel an uncomfortable tightness beginning to manifest.

"You've all been very patient," I said to the parkgoers, many of whom had gone in for a closer look and were now circling you inquisitively. "But the best part is yet to come! The rolling! That's right folks, you can roll this unfortunate fellow around to your heart's content, until he can roll no more! Just try to stand clear when our young man's bubble -- *aheh* -- bursts. I won't be responsible for your cleaning expenses."

As the hands of the parkgoers began to press into you, and you could feel yourself tilting, a rising panic gripped you and you tried to call out, to no avail. Your swollen cheeks muffled your voice, and anyway your mouth was still full of pumping juice at all times. You had no recourse whatsoever as you felt yourself tip all the way over and begin to roll over the grass and between the trees. You could feel the wind rushing over you, the grass and crunchy leaves beneath, the hands of the parkgoers pressing into you, and the tightness inside growing more and more pronounced with every second. How could this have happened to you? How could this be? The overwhelming sensations drowned these questions out.

You didn't know how long you rolled for, but the pressure within your body was nearly unbearable by the time you finally came to a stop, your head facing the sky in a clearing of soft grass. With the wind no longer roaring in your ears, you could hear the strange sounds that your body was making: heavy creaking and groaning, suggesting that the end was near at hand. The parkgoers had realized this. Many of them were fleeing behind trees, crouching behind rocks, or simply sprinting out of range. Only I approached you, striding into the clearing and coming to a stop beside your upward-facing head. I looked down at you, and you looked up at me, and I grinned.

"Thanks for being such a good sport," I said.


Disclaimer for All: This was an unusually lengthy story for me! Unless it's a slow night, don't anybody expect me to give you something of this breadth and length! I will always try my best to fulfill a request satisfactorily, but I won't always get this carried away!


Amazing story and very detailed! Thank you so much! 

eljacko15's picture

3: Writers are to respond to a request by replying to that specific post. In case of a tie between writers, the first registered replier gets the job.

So does this mean you only want one writer replying to any given request? I thought we'd have each request being fulfilled by as many authors as chose to take it up, in case anyone was dissatisfied with the first writer they got. If you want to do it with one-writer-to-one-request that's fine too, I'm just curious.

GiftedShana's picture

Excellent work Jacko! The length was fine, after all these are meant to be short stories, and I believe yours fulfilled that to a tee.

As for rule 3, I suppose it could be either way, but I don't think the requester will be that picky that he'll choose one writer over the next, and in the event that they do, that would be relatively rude. Either way, If you wish to respond to multiple requests, that's equally acceptable. I just figured one-for-one would be an easy way to keep things in order.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.



Hey there.

I'm a bit tall, a bit overweight and male. Really love blueberry inflation, possibly in a place like a mall?

InflatedAlaska's picture

Hi! I'm a guy, and I was thinking of normal inflation in a college setting by a friend.

GiftedShana's picture

A busy day, winding down, coming close to its end. In our dorm room, we sit on opposite sides of our room. You are tending to your work, scribbling in your notebook. I am in my bed, casually reading a magazine. For a while there's simply the sound of your pencil tracing on paper, with the occasional flip of a page from my magazine. The sun is still well and up in the sky, and as I look out, a small sigh escapes my lips. I drop the magazine on my bed and roll to my side, focusing on the back of your head. I wait there for a moment, pondering something to say, but no words roll off my tongue. I take in a breath to say something, but just as I do, a thought strikes me. As I think it over, my lips curl into a childish smile.

I swing my legs over the side of bed and then stand up to go to my dresser. Pulling out the top draw, I shift through some of my clothes to find my ball pump. Giving the plunger a few pumps, I grin, hiding it behind my back. A expression of mischief fills my face, but it cools into a soft smile. Step by step, I walk up behind you, taking note of your attire: a college logo'd t-shirt and some running shorts, with socks on because you like to lounge with them on. Leaning in close to the back of your neck, I tighten my mouth, and blow a short burst of air through my lips.

You react not as suddenly as I imagine, but I grab your attention nevertheless. The sound of your pencil hitting the desk as your turn around is enough for me to know that you're mine. As you try to speak, I lay finger on your lips, hushing you quietly as my nail trails to below your neck, beckoning you to rise. Your lifted eyebrow shows me your concern, but you know this isn't the first time I've done this. My hand finds its way to your chest, guiding you to your bed until I can safely push you back on to it.

I reveal the pump. Your eyes match mine. A pleasant, yet understanding smile is shared between us.

You back-crawl up until your head rests on your pillows, and I follow, an eagerness flowing all around me. Taking the end of the hose in my hand, I slowly lean forward to teethe the bottom of your shirt, pulling it upward while my hand slides up and through your short pant leg. With time, I find the spot I'm looking for, and gently usher the hose inwards. Your tight and then relieved breath lets me know its in a secure place. I feel your thumb brush my cheek before I raise back up, kneeling between your legs, the pump primed in my hand. For effect, I very slowly pull the plunger upward to its peak, and then make feint to pump it, just to see your reaction. To my amusement, your closed eyes and sharp inhale let me know that temporarily faked you out. When your glare locks on to me, I give up my charade and finally...

I push the plunger downward, a hiss eminating from the cylinder...

I hear you let out a soft wisp of breath, a deep satisfaction as you feel a swift rush of air enter you. Yet this is only the beginning, as my hands kick into action, already starting to pull the plunger back up. Though, instead of giving you full pumps, I want to give your body some prep time so that we can truly enjoy your soon-to-be-obtained size, and thus I bring the plunger only up half way before pressing it back down. A hiss sounds out, and another, and another. My hands working now like clockwork in a constant pace. Those soft breaths of your get a deeper, full of more sensation than the first. You can feel it, although you can't quite see the results of my work. You can feel the pressure slowly but surely building, mounting up as the bursts of air fill your middle.

My eyes roam up and down your body and I can see how thoroughly you are enjoying this. Your legs are wavering side to side, your hands are smoothing around your midsection caringly. Your head rolls into your pillows, a mix of pleasure and sheer contentment ever-present. Every now and then, my hands curiously leave the pump to feel your plushness. The softness of your skin is welcoming, and I can't help but tickle it. You squirm slightly, and I laugh, but I do not stray from my business. I lean in to kiss the warmth of your stomach shortly before I return to the pump, a new vigor in my eyes.

The kiddy gloves are off, and I take the plunger to its fullest, again and again...

With each full pump, your face says a thousand words. Pleasure, excitement, sensation, happyness, giddyness. I pick up the pace, and soon enough, I see it. The round of your belly, the bulge of your paunch, primming up ever so slightly over the belt-line of your shorts. You must be really feeling the pressure now. With more pumps per minute, your middle starts to form a more defined roundness. At first it was barely noticeable, but now by itself its steadily lifting your shirt upwards. Each hiss signals more pressure, more pleasure, more fullness. My eyes revel in the fascination of how much your swelling. As much as it is in my control, I know you'll stay my hand when you are ready, but until then I plan to make you writhe with sensation.

Your stomach is clearly reaching upwards, like a balloon being inflated while flat on the ground. Your increasing girth shows the extend of how far your being stretched internally. At this moment, I'm thankful for the amount of pratice you've had making it possible for you to get this large. Even now, its pushing the size of partially inflated volleyball, only getting wider by the moment. Swelling. Puffing. Bulging. Billowing. Lurching steadily upward.

Yet I know you want more, and you know I want more...

My pace accelerates once again. I can hear your moans. They are music to my ears, and an incredible motivation. I long to see you huge. You're grasping the sides expanding, inflating midsection, squeezing it softly, its tautness becoming more and more apparent.

It can still go bigger!

Your eyes are flutter at a deft speed, while mine are locked on your expansive roundness. It has surpassed that of a volleyball and is seeking to be much more more. Every hiss pushing your limits, every pump trying to give you a new max size. I see it now that you are simply huge. Perfectly rotund. Marvelously sized. And as I pull the plunger upward, a grin stretched wide across my face...

I feel your hand reach out, and rest upon mine.

I realize that you are still human, and your gentle hand brings me back down to Earth. My expression shifts somberly, but you let out a chuckle, and poke my nose with a out-stretched finger. I feel your heaving chest, rapid breaths winding down after all the excitement. Your breath is mine as well, as I notice that I had been exerting a great deal of effort to get you this far. You beckon me to your side, and I crawl over your legs, laying next to you, stroking your massive tummy. A sincere sigh escapes my lips.

Knowing next time is going to be just as good, if not better.


Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.


GiftedShana's picture

This is a first for me, using what I call a "silent but friendly" storytelling method. No dialouge, just friendly interaction with characters using only actions. By "normal inflation" I assume you meant something similar to real-inflation, so I applied a realistic aspect to it, while still giving room to get somewhat big. Hope you enjoyed.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.


InflatedAlaska's picture

That was Amazing! I especially love how personal and romantic is was. You're a fantastic writer.

GiftedShana's picture

I'm glad you approve, Brandon.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.


mosherballoon's picture

Hi, I'm male. Into full body inflation, air/helium/blueberry. Also like clothes destruction, in a public place with humiliation and teasing. Not into popping.

Daemon13's picture

*Sorry for it being a little latter than planned. Enjoy!*

‘You shouldn’t have jumped ship on the band Mosherballoon’ I yell, making my voice audible over the rumbling bass. The area backstage of the open air arena is pounding from the noise of the support act. Tied to a chair and gagged, all you can do is groan your response at me. ‘Now you’ll see what happens when you leave the band’ I say with a wicked grin on my face.

With that, two roadies grab you and drag you through the curtain onto the main stage, just as the band finish playing and leave. The two burly men shove you in front of the crowd, who begin jeering and laughing at the sight of you, thinking this is part of the show.

‘Ladies and gentleman!’, my voice echoes around the arena, ‘welcome to the main event! Mosherballoon here wanted to leave the band and become the biggest star on the planet! Shall we make him HUGE?!’ The crowd roar their approval as another roadie drags out a large cylinder marked Helium and drops it with a loud THUNK next to you. I grab the end of the nozzle as your eyes go wide in fear of what is about to happen. ‘Open wide!’ I yell as I pull down the gag and jam the nozzle into your mouth. You try to moan your protests but to no avail, as I spin the wheel on the cylinder. The crowd cheer their approval as the hose goes taught and the gas pours into your body, puffing your cheeks out comically.

Your stomach begins to feel tight and bloated and with good reason, as you begin to look like you’re nine months pregnant, with no sign of stopping. ‘Looks a little gassy don’t he folks?’ I yell prodding your expanding belly, which is now like a beach ball under your stretching Metallica shirt.  The crowd yell and laugh, not realising this isn’t an act. The expansion begins to spread into other parts of your body, as your belly begins to pull apart the seams of your shirt. Your arms and legs, though tied to the chairs, feel full and puffy and you feel yourself rise off the chair slightly as your ass begins to fill with gas and round out.

‘Better give him room to be the BIG star shouldn’t we guys?’ and I pull a knife from my back pocket. You scream as a run the flat of the blade along your massive stomach. ‘Oh, don’t worry’, I whisper in your ear, loud enough to be audible over the hissing of the gas. ‘I’m not going to pop you, that would ruin the fun!’  And I reach behind you and cut the ropes tying your legs and arms to the chair. Immediately you rise off the chair, your limbs flinging straight out to your sides as the helium rushes into them proper. The lighter than air gas begins to lift your swelling form from the stage, as your body starts to become too much for your clothes to hold. Your shirt, already in tatters from your rounding torso and belly, finally gives up the ghost and falls from your body in shreds. Your trousers, painfully tight and holding a lot of the bloating at bay, tear apart with an audible RRRRIIIIIIIPPPP!!!

Completely naked and beginning to round out into a human sphere, the crowd laugh and point at you. The gas has even rushed into your manhood, making it look like humorous party balloon. Woman in the crowd blush and whisper to themselves. You feel so humiliated and exposed.

You rise higher and higher of the stage, easily fifteen feet from the floor, the only thing stopping you from drifting off and into the night sky being the hose in your mouth which keeps you tethered to the ground.  Now nothing more than a huge round, naked ball with a head, swollen hands, feet and penis, the band you once called your friends gather underneath you, each with a huge grin on their faces.

‘Now you’re the biggest star in the world! Hope you enjoy it!’ I yell, producing the knife again. Your eyes go wide again as I cut the hose holding you down. ‘Wave bye-bye to Mosherballoon everyone! We are The Pneumatics! Hit it!’


Music blares out of the arena as you drift up and up, out of the building and into the warm summer night. Your taught body glistens in the dying sunlight and you mumble your vows of revenge, the remains of the hose still dangling from your swollen lips...

*Criticism is welcome as this is the first story I've actually written and would like to know what you all think*

darth_clone19's picture

This is the same concept as the first story I wrote years ago, called The Nighthiss. Check it out and I hope you like it!

 -   Read my stories: 

mosherballoon's picture

wowsers! that was great :)

inflatable slut (not verified)

Hi i'mmale.into full body inflation,by force inflation,by air or helium using my cock as the valve and being humiliated and teased.Not into popping.

eljacko15's picture

DISCLAIMER: The following is extremely explicit. I say this both as a warning to those of a sensitive disposition and to ensure the requester that, if he is uncomfortable with the sexual nature of the story, I'd have no problem rewriting it for him. I just figured it would be appropriate due to the nature of the request.


It was the middle of the day and I had been following you through the streets for some time, observing you, before I eventually made my move. You were pausing at a busy intersection, waiting for a street light to change, when you suddenly felt a metal cuff close around your left ankle. You looked down at the shackle, which was clamped around your pants leg at one end, and around a lamppost at the other. Before you could fully process what had happened, I rose to my feet from where I had been kneeling behind you and came around to face you.

"Did you do that!?" you demanded. "What the fuck!?"

Your shouts quickly began to draw attention as people in the street and around the intersection turned to look at you. Many whipped out their phones, some to take pictures, some to dial the police. But the show hadn't really begun yet.

I crouched down in front of you and undid your fly. You squirmed with discomfort as I lowered your trousers, and you tried to kick at me, but I dodged aside and continued my work uninterrupted. Eventually I managed to get the pants off your right leg, though the shackle made it impossible to lower them past your left ankle, so I simply left them to hang limply from one leg and moved on to the next stage of my work. All around us, people were moving in to get a closer look, dissuaded from interfering by some morbid curiosity.

Despite your mumbled protests, I slid down your underwear, revealing your balls and semi-hard cock to the everyone within eyeshot. As I placed my satchel on the ground and began to root around inside it, you attempted to cover your genitals with your shirt, pulling it down over them and blushing furiously. Your wide, panicked eyes wandered to my satchel, from which I was extracting a long, thin metal tank with a hose and valve attached to the top. You edged as far away from the lamppost as the shackle would allow you to, but I hefted the tank and advanced upon you.

I pushed your hands aside, exposing your penis again, which was almost fully erect now. I grasped your shaft with one hand and the hose with the other, and brought them together. You gasped and nearly cried out as you felt the hose enter your urethra, but what happened next shocked you even more: as I turned the valve on the tank, you could feel cold gas beginning to rush into our body through your penis, and it quickly ran out of empty space to fill.

Your cock and balls were the first to start swelling up, becoming larger and rounder, and seemingly more buoyant. Your hips and ass followed closely, and then your belly started to push up beneath your shirt. You moaned and pressed your fingers into your thighs, feeling them give slightly beneath your hands. Looking up, your blush intensified when you noticed that many of the assembled pedestrians had started to film your predicament.

"Hey!" you called out in vain. "Stop that! Stop it!" They ignored you, naturally.

The gas continued to rush into you unabated, and the more it filled you, the lighter you felt. When your belly was larger than an exercise ball, your ass even bigger, your penis unrivaled in size, and your limbs beginning to lose definition, you felt your feet begin to lift off of the ground. Slowly but surely, you ascended as you inflated, tethered to the ground only by your shackled left ankle. Before you could float out of reach, I leaped up and caught your penis, climbing onto it and straddling it, riding you up into the air.

The chain on the shackle was long, and by the time it went taut you were higher up than the tip of the lamppost and close to roundness. I sat there on your hugely bloated member, rocking back and forth on it and running my hands slowly up and down its turgid length. Though you tried to keep yourself from moaning, it was no use. Every immodest sound you involuntarily made was heard and recorded by the crowd below.

It didn't last forever though. The sound of sirens was faint, at first, but you detected it instantly, and so did I. Hurriedly, I scaled your body to where your face (currently wide-eyed and showing a brilliantly embarassed shade of red) was sunken partway into the ballooning flesh of your torso. I planted a small kiss on your bulging cheek, winked at you, and slid off of your body to the ground. My landing left a lot to be desired, but I was up and running in short order, and the last you saw of me was when I pushed past the crowd and disappeared down a nearby alley.

The sirens grew louder and louder and finally the police cars arrived on the scene, far too late to prevent the deed. With much effort they managed to reel you back down to the ground, break the shackles, and tie you to the bed of a pickup truck, which ferried you to the hospital where they were able to drain most of the helium from your body. You were always slightly rounder and more buoyant after that, and since your fantastical story had made the evening news (complete with video evidence) it soon became common knowlege that you had once spent the better part of your afternoon as a floating, half-naked balloon, moaning away to a crowd of astonished onlookers.


Hey!! I'm a male, normal weight, tall, i also have a balloon fetish and i would like to be inflated in a private place.

eljacko15's picture

"What are you doing here? How did you get in my house?"

These were the questions that I pointedly refused to answer as I sat on your couch, rolling a toothpick back and forth in my mouth, surrounded by colorful, inflated ballons. In my left hand was a camcorder, and sitting on the end table beside me was an open laptop. You stood in the doorway, glaring at me in a combination of confusion and anger. You thought about phoning the police. It would be the smart thing to do. But a part of you was more interested in knowing why I was here, especially with all of these balloons about. I reached out and popped a balloon with my toothpick as it passed by.

"I work for the Looner Lodge," I said. You recognized the name. It was a website that you frequented, supplying both balloon videos and custom inflatable products. You had made a few orders from them, though you had thus far neglected to make any of your required payments.

"Look," you said, "I'll pay you guys back eventually, okay? Now's just not a good time."

"It's never a good time, is it Mr. Pit?"

"Listen, don't think you can try to intimidate me with your toothpick and room full of balloons."

"I'm not here to intimidate you, Mr. Pit. You had your chance to pay, and now it's too late. I'm here to see to your punishment?"

"My punishment?" you scoffed. "That's funny, really. Who do you people think you are, the mob? I'm calling the cops?"

You turned around to make for the telephone, but found that your path was blocked by a pair of figures. Roughly human shaped and sized, they had strange, textureless skin and clothing, all of which had a glossy sheen and a pronounced roundness at all edges. You guessed that they were balloon people of some pedigree. Not one to be deterred, you reached into your pocket for your cell phone. As soon as you pulled it out, however, it was slapped away by one of the balloon people. Then they seized you. They were shockingly strong. They turned you around so we were facing each other, and I raised my camcorder, the record light flaring to life.

"Smile for the camera, Mr. Pit."

Defiantly, you struggled against the balloon people, their inexplicably powerful grips holding you firmly in pace. I nodded my head, aiming my camcorder at you, and a third balloon person entered the room, walking around to face you. This one was especially tall and slim, and unlike the other two it had an entirely featureless body, just a black, humanoid shape without a face or any kind of clothing. The tall one reached out and plucked a large balloon from the air. It was easily the size of an exercize ball. Winding-up, the tall one swung the balloon at you and it struck you across the belly, exloding on impact.

"Ow!" you shouted, as the balloon scraps flew up and slapped you.

At first you thougt this "punishment" was rather weak, but soon you began to feel strange. It seemed to you that your body had suddenly been filled with a great rushing sensation, centered on where the balloon had burst against you. As you watched, dumbfounded, your belly began to swell up slowly until it was the size of the balloon that the tall one had hit you with. You were sure that the gas was helium, because you could feel your feet lifting noticeably off the ground. Now that you were effectively unable to put up much of a fight or make your escape, the two balloon people that had been gripping your arms released you, retreating from the room and leaving you with just me and the tall one.

You tried to move away from the tall one, but you bobbed impotently in the air and your toes only just brushed the floor. It seized more of the random balloons that filled the room and pelted you with them, breaking them against your person. Every time a balloon popped against you its contents were transferred into your body. The helium lifted you higher and higher even as you became rounder and rounder. It took almost no time at all for you to float so high that you bumped against the ceiling, and even then the tall one didn't let up. By this time your belly was the largest part of your body, but every part of you had seen itself swollen at least a bit.

I backed out of the room and into the hallway as your body became so enormous that it filled the den entirely. You bobbed back and forth between the ceiling and floor, bouncing lazily between them. The tranquil motion of your body did no justice to the tension that you felt as your skin stretched thin over so much helium. You knew that you had very little give left. You almost thought you might burst, but the tall one had ceased its attack by then. You could no longer see it. Your head was facing out into the hallway, where you watched as I switched off my camcorder and put it away.

"If you ever got down from there, be sure to check our site out again," I said. "I think you'll really like your video. It's sure to be a hit."

"Mmmhf, mfffhrf!" you released a muffled screech of indignity.

"Hey, try not to move around too much," I said, as I turned and headed for the front door. "That room's still full of balloons, and I don't think I need to tell you what might happen to you if you pop too many more of them."

Blueberry boy 17

Hi I'm male a little overweight have brown hair and into butt/blueberry inflation. I prefer a lot of teasing and humiliation. And even prefer if you acted like a mom or something.

Daemon13's picture

Can you elaborate on the butt inflation and mom stuff? Just to get an idea for something?

Blueberry boy 17

Oh ya sure. I like to have it so either it's butt inflation and I eat something a my butt swells, same for the blueberry. As for the mom part, just like a fake over protective mom watches a freaks out and stuff like that

Daemon13's picture

Well even thoughI'm one of the authors on the thread, I do love to be inflated myself!

Im average height, slim and toned. Dark hair. I love full body inflation, with air or helium, usually adminisitered by my ass :-P Popping is cool, and so is humiliation or teasing. 

eljacko15's picture

It was nearly 7:00 on a Friday night, and morale at the office was nearing an all-time low. Just about every worker had been ordered to stay late without overtime pay, and none dared refuse, save for you. You had been staying late with no overtime for six weeks and counting now, and you were no longer going to take it. Your coworkers all warned you against it. They had been at the company longer than you had, and claimed to have seen things you hadn't seen, but you weren't bothered. What were they going to do, fire you? You'd had it up to here with the constant impositions on your precious time, and you were having no more of it. You told me as much when you confronted me in my office, throwing in a few colorful insults for good measure and storming out in a self-righteous huff. When you finally got home you collapsed onto your bed immediately to catch up on some much deserved sleep. When you awoke, you found yourself someplace else altogether.

You were not in your own room when you woke up, but in an austere, square cell made of stainless steel. You weren't lying in your bed at all, but rather on a cold metal table. You shivered and rose to a sitting position as you felt the steel against your back, and realized then with no small amount of concern that all of your clothes had been stripped off. You sat on the table, wondering where you were and why you were there, for ages. You were almost relieved when a pair of men in suits arrived and forced you to your feet before dragging you from the room, each holding one of your arms. They carried you down a series of long hallways before finally hefting you through a set of large double doors.

The room you entered then was a kind of amphitheater, with rows of seats surrounding a raised platform in the center. From the middle of the platform, a hollow rubber tube protruded out of the floor. The suited men carried you to the platform and held you there before the people assembled in the rows of seats. Upon closer inspection, once your eyes had grown accustomed to the bright light of the room, you recognized the people as the other workers on your floor. And at a podium in the front row, grinning smugly, I stood holding a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "welcome to yet another employee discipline seminar. Mr. Daemon13 here, who has never witnessed a seminar before, will have the privilege of being our subject for this demonstration. Everybody give him a big hand!"

Your coworkers gave an uncomfortable and half-hearted applause, but it seemed to satisfy me because I signalled them to stop and nodded to the men carrying you. They seemed to understand, and carried you to the center of the platform where they raised you up and suspended you over the rubber tube. You realized what was going to happen about a split-second before it did, but by then it was too late to scream. Your cry was cut short as the men swiftly lowered you onto the tube, which plunged straight up your ass. Fortunately, the tube was well-lubricated and slid easily inside of you. Most of your coworkers winced sympathetically, but some of them seemed enthusiastic.

The tube was more flexible than it initially appeared, but despite your efforts you found yourself unable to disengage yourself from it. Eventually you came to rest in a half-lying, half-sitting position, with most of the tube hidden inside of you. Your head craned forward, you saw me press a button at the podium, and from somewhere far below you a loud whooshing noise could be heard. It grew in volume as it drew nearer and nearer, until finally it was a low, dull roar. That was when you felt the tube start to twitch, and immediately after that you could feel the air start.

The air rushed into your body with dizzying speed and you instantly began to grow. Your butt took the lead, raising you up off of the platform. It felt not unlike sitting on an inflatable cushion (although of course, in this case, you were the cushion). You had never felt anything quite like the feeling that spread through your body in tandem with the air, and it quite took your breath away, so that you gasped as your body jerked and shook from the shock of being filled so quickly. In only a few seconds your belly had gone from flat to beach-ball sized, and it showed no signs whatsoever of stopping. Your upper legs and arms were taking on a conical shape and merging with your torso, your ass was raising you nearly a meter off the platform, and the size and precise shape of your manhood would be better left unmentioned.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for sympathy. Though the majority of your coworkers were frowning, shaking their heads, or even covering their eyes, some of them were grinning, taking pictures, and jeering maliciously. You felt a pang of shame as you watched people who you thought respected you, or even liked you, took devious pleasure in your unjust punishment. Fortunately, you were soon spared the sight of their perverse amusement when your chest and belly swelled up high enought to block your vision. You were almost totally round now, and had mostly stopped changing shape. Your head and extremities had sunken partway into the massive orb that had once been a lithe, body-shaped body. You could feel the air pushing against your taut skin, still rushing into you with its same insistent pace. With each passing second the tightness became more and more pronounced, until it was unbearable and you almost wished that you could just explode and be through with it.

Then it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun, and you sat there on the platform, a nude blimp stuck on a hose. You made a half-hearted effort to struggle, but all you succeeded in doing was rocking back and forth slightly.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," I said, "our disobedient employee has reached his capacity and will soon be leaving us, permanently. If you have any goodbyes, you may say them now."

You strained to hear, but there came no reply.

"I thought not."

You tried to protest that this couldn't be happening. From bloated cheeks you tried to force indignant words, but none came. From somewhere far below, you heard a familiar whooshing noise that built into a low, dull roar, just before-


Daemon13's picture

That was brilliant eljacko, really enjoyed it lol

TheFalcon3's picture

I love the stories you guys have done so far, great stuff! 

I'm male, about 6' tall, slim, average build, I have glasses as well. I like the hose in the mouth routine, full body inflation, clothes destruction, humiliation, and teasing. No popping though, I like just about any filling too, my favorites though are helium and air.

TheFalcon3's picture

I didn't mention that I like cartoonish inflations. Like flattening before being inflated. I would like a girlfriend type character inflating me as well. Hopefully that clarifies a little more.


Chill out, everyone.  This one's mine.


Your girlfriend sighs as you walk with the rest of the tour group.  It wasn't your idea to tour the newspaper factory, but it's ended up to be much more fascinating than you had anticipated.  The same can't be said, however, for your girlfriend.  She adjusts her purse and looks at her watch as the tour group is ushered along the factory floor, by the paper press, before being led up the stairs.  You look around at the whirring, churning machinery around you, belts of paper speeding along through rollers and pneumatic arms pumping in and out along the line.

"We're going to be going over the paper press in a second!" chimes the attractive female tour guide, "Please keep your hands and feet within the handrails at all times!" she says.  You look over to the wall over an office window behind you and see a sign that reads "(03) (months) since our last accident", with a cartoonish image of an unhappy person being squished flat through what looks like a laundry wringer below the interchangeable numbers.  You gulp nervously.  

You walk over the catwalk with the rest of the group, and the huge, noisy machine looms below you.  The group shuffles slowly along, filing through the bright-yellow catwalk, but you stare transfixed at the paper press through the metal mesh of the floor.  While the group goes on ahead, you stay behind.  You lean over the railing, nervously keeping a hand on your glasses as you look down over the vast machinery below you. 

"What are you doing?" you hear your girlfriend say, and the sudden voice makes you jump.  You let out a relieved breath as she quickly walks over to you.  You tell her that you're looking at the machinery.

"Don't slow the group down, come on." she says, tugging your shirt sleeve.  You tell her to go on ahead.

"Uh, no, I don't want to stay on this stupid tour any longer than I have to.  And besides, didn't you hear the lady?  That stuff is dangerous, you shouldn't be leaning over it like that.  Come on!" she says, grabbing your arm.  You stumble and pull back, your lower back hitting the handrail, and suddenly your mind reels with the sensation of your feet leaving the ground.  Your girlfriend's eyes widen in shock and your arms shoot outward as up becomes down, and before you know what's happening, you're tumbling, and land on your back on a heavy canvas belt.  You look up and see your girlfriend's horrified face just in time to feel an unimaginably heavy pressure pinch your toes and work its way up your feet.  You yelp in pain and look down to see your feet getting getting squeezed between a pair of rollers, and watch helplessly as the belt feeds you inch by inch through them, working their way up your ankles to your calves, your knees...something catches your eye on the other side of the rollers, and you see something on the belt, which inclines upwards at a sharp angle.  As you are fed further into it, you realize you're looking at your own flattened sneakers, plastered to the belt as flat as a sticker, and the legs of your jeans trail upwards after them.  There's yelling and confusion as your waist goes through the rollers, your stomach, look behind you and reach for something to grab onto to no avail, as your head goes through, leaving only your grasping arms and hands on the other side to disappear through the rollers after you.

You stare, dazed, above you as you travel with the belt, flattened to it as thin as the papers they print with it, and your body is folded upwards and downwards as it is fed through roller after roller before you come around a curve and see the open ceiling above you, and the belt slows down and comes to a stop, an alarm buzzing and bells ringing around the floor.  You lay there, flattened, and try to move your arms and legs, but fail to pry them off of the belt.  You hear footsteps running from above you, and soon your girlfriend comes into your view, and you look each other in the eye.  She looks up and down your whole flattened body and gives a disappointed sigh.

"I told you not to lean over the machine!  Now look what you did!"  she said, raising her arms up and letting them flop back down, defeated.  You look at her and try to ask her for help, but you can't move your flattened mouth.  "God, I didn't even want to go on this stupid tour..." she says, cradling the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.  "Well, come on.  Let's try to get you back to normal before the tour group finds you." she says, feeling along your body.  She sticks her fingernails under your sides and peels you off of the belt, your body flopping and hanging helplessly in her hands.  She holds her arms out, awkwardly, and carries you away from the belt and lays you out on the ground.  She looks around, and spots something, getting up and running away.  You hear metal scraping against concrete, and after a bit, she comes back into your view, dragging a compressed gas cylinder behind her, and rights it upward, the tank wobbling on its base while she unwinds a rubber hose on the top.  The tank says "He".  As in "helium".  You're more impressed at how she managed to find that in a newspaper factory than you are dreading what she's about to do.  

"Alright, put this in your mouth, and don't spit it out until I tell you to." she says, impatiently.  You don't know how, but somehow, you can feel the hose prying your lips apart, and it is firmly in your mouth.  She turns the valve on the tank, and the hose twitches, before you feel the gas coursing into your mouth and lungs, poofing your cheeks up and filling you out.  You blink behind your glasses, dumbstruck, as your body reinflates to its normal, slim proportions.  You try to spit the hose back out, but you can't.  In a panic, you look down at your belly, swelling outwards against your t-shirt, as the hose fills you up and up and up with helium, but your lips are stuck against the hose somehow.  She looks back over at you and does a double-take at your expanding stomach, but puts her stern face back on and looks you in the eye.

"Alright, you can spit out the hose now." she says.

"Mmmmph!" you say back to her, shaking your head.

"No!?  Do you think you're being funny?" she asks you, appaled.

"Mmmph!  Hmmmph-mmmph-mmmmmph!" you say, pointing to the hose in your mouth.  She looks around, speechless, while you look down and see your shirt riding up over your inflating midsection, your hips flaring outward and thighs fattening up.  You can feel your manhood jutting triumphantly outwards, rock-hard and piping hot against your thigh.  You run your hands across your stomach, rising above you, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but you keep getting bigger, and bigger, and rounder, and rounder.  Your butt swells up like two balloons, straightening your body out as you flop on your back, gesturing frantically at the hose while your limbs fatten up.

You feel a sensation overcoming your whole body.  A strange, weightless feeling, like going down a really fast elevator, or cresting a hill on a roller coaster.  Your head swims and your heart sinks as the sensation washes over you, and you realize your taut skin isn't touching the ground anymore.  The weightless feeling, you dumbly realize, was actual weightlessness.  You're floating.

You gyrate your fattening arms behind you, trying to feel the floor, but you can't.  Your clothes creak and groan as your body blows up and grows rounder and rounder, your vast midsection stretching further and further outwards, your arms and legs getting rounder and shorter, until your frantic waving of your arms and legs is reduced to panicked flapping of your hands and wiggling of your feet.  You feel gigantic and hollow, as you unwillingly suck down every ounce of helium pumping into your huge, ballooning body.  You feel it filling your manhood up and out, as it eagerly pumps bigger, and longer, and pushes tight against the fly of your overtaxed jeans.

You moan and shout at your girlfriend, your voice high-pitched from the helium, as you float upwards beside her body, but she stubbornly stays looking away from you, her arms crossed.  You look her in the face as you float up to its level and then pass it, lazily flipping over in the air.  Your clothes squeal and protest against the bulging, spherical mass of your body.  You can feel the waistband of your pants and underwear ride down past the crest of your butt crack, and your button pops off of your fly.  The sound of it ricocheting off of the floor seems to get your girlfriend's attention, and she looks up at you, nearly double-taking at your massive, inflating body.  You blink at her, pleadingly.  She quickly looks around, before reaching upwards, reaching for your stomach.  She can't quite reach, and jumps up, grabbing onto one of the flaps from your fly and tugging your huge body back down to ground level.

"What do you think you're doing!?" she tells you, impatient and angry.  You try to tell her to help you, but she doesn't seem to understand.  "Spit the hose out!  Right now!" she says, pointing her finger in your face.  Then, a ripping sound.  You both look each other in the eye in surprise and then look down at your huge, round body, as your shirt starts tearing up the middle.  "Oooooh!  I got you this shirt for your birthday!" she says.  "Don't you dare-!" she starts, before the rip quickly travels upwards and with a quick, loud, RIP! flies off of your body in tatters, making your shirtless, inflated body jiggle from the release of pressure.  "Ooooh!  You big, fat, pig!  Now look what you did!" she says, but you insistently squeak at her to remove the hose from your mouth, and you expand bigger and bigger before her.  You float up a little bit, but she jumps up, puts a hand on your skin, and slams you angrily back down, your body making a bouncing noise not unlike those rubber 4-square balls you used to play with on the playground.  "Spit the house out!" she says, curtly.  You look at her, pleadingly, while the seams on your rounded-out jeans start splitting apart.

Your hands and feet are inflating too, and getting harder and harder to flap and wiggle around.  The shoelaces on your sneakers pop themselves untied and slide off of your ballooning feet, and your pants pop and tear, breaking apart piece by piece.

"If you don't spit out the hose by time you blow yourself up bigger than your pants, I'm pulling it out myself." she says.  You moan in disbelief, hoping that she would hopefully have done it while you still had pants.  You get bigger and bigger, your manhood swelling and swelling, the material of your pants stretched tight over it, and your pants rip, and rip, and rip, until finally, with a loud, sudden tearing sound, your jeans explode off of your huge, round body, leaving you in your badly-stretched and struggling underwear, with your manhood pitching an epic tent in the front.

"Fine.  Fine!  That's fine.  That's the way you want to do things." she says, raising her hands in the air.  You feel the weightlessness overtake you again and you start floating.  You hear voices all around you, but you can't see what's going on as you gently tip in the air, rising up, your glasses slipping down your nose.  "Oh, this is just my idiot boyfriend.  He decided he wants to blow himself up like a balloon rather than admit that I was right!" she says.

The tour guide, and all the other people in the group are approaching you now as you float higher and higher off the ground, rotating downwards, and look down on your girlfriend and the group from a bird's-eye-view.  You can't hear what they're saying over the murmuring of the crowd, but the tour group is all looking at you, and some are taking pictures.  The tour guide and your girlfriend look like they're having an argument before your girlfriend seems to sigh heavily and grab onto the hose.  You can feel the long, trailing hose tug you downwards a little as you bob in the air like a balloon, and then she yanks it out of your mouth.  Your body jerks downwards in the air before your negative buoyancy retakes you, and you keep your mouth shut tightly.  You lazily bob and rotate in the air for a little bit before you realize there's nothing keeping your mouth shut anymore, and then it all comes out at once.

Helium shoots out of your mouth as you rocket confusedly around the factory floor, feeling your inflated butt bounce off of every surface you come into contact with and send you spinning and zipping around in another direction.  Your proportions slowly return to normal, and with one last, upward sweep, you return to your normal, slim size and fall to an ungraceful landing on the ground wearing nothing but your stretched-out underwear and socks.

Your arms and legs shaking, you get back to your feet, holding your underwear up, as the tour guide strides up to you, holding your shoes, your girlfriend in tow, and asks you to leave.  Your girlfriend is blushing and fuming.  You ask your girlfriend for her jacket, and without a word, she angrily takes it off and throws it at your chest.  You put it on and zip it up, but it is far too small and tight for you.  You turn to leave, and catch the attractive female tour guide giving you a once over with a mischievous smile on her face.  As your girlfriend leads you out, the tour guide puts her hand up to her head and mouths "call me".

darth_clone19's picture

that was cool!

 -   Read my stories: 


Hope this is what you were looking for!  I usually write more lighthearted, cartoonish fare; this is my first time writing humiliation/teasing and clothes bursting.

TheFalcon3's picture

I loved it! Awesome work, it doesn't surprise me that you've done stuff like this before. Thanks for the great story!


I wanna try!

I am 4'11" about 95 pounds, brown just past my shoulder hair, and I am female ^_^.  I love breast, butt, or hourglass inflation and either by water, air, or magic is always good.  I can even do blueberry, but I dont like popping.  Hope to hear from you guys soon!

GiftedShana's picture

I claim this one, but I'll get to it whenever I can.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.



If anyone wants to pm me a story while we wait for GiftedShana then feel free ^_^

GiftedShana's picture

The day was hot. Being in the middle of summer, days like this came often, and often did we make the best out of it. Geared with my bikini, my towel, and some sunscreen, spending the day basking in the sun with my bestie sounded like a marvelous idea. Of course, the beach was a bit too far away, so we have to settle for your back yard, pool and all. I had a good feeling about today, and I planned to make the best of it. Nudging my sunglasses upward on my nose, I parked up on your driveway, grabbed myself, locked my car and made way for the door. No matter how long we've been good friends, and no matter how many times I've been to your house, out of a undying sense of courtesy, I ring the door bell...

Bing, biiiiinnnnng, bing...

Looking through the glass inlay, I see your lovely figure strolling up to the door, until I hear the lock on the door click. As the door open I greet you with a friendly smile while I take in the sight. Much like myself you're sporting a lovely summer bikini, colored a series of complimentary blues and purples. I can't help but grin, seeing how well your petite frame fills the piece, mentally undressing and redressing you at my whims. With a pleasant greeting, you take a step out and give me a fullsome embrace, though your face practically goes immediately into my cleavage given your height. I giggle at this and comment on your looks as we both make our ways to the back yard. As always, the lawn is a perfect deep greep, and the pool is a glistening blue. Many memories live here, and I hoped to make a few more interesting ones today.

I scanned over the turf and saw that you had already laid out your towel, and following suit, I laid mine next to it, on the side closer to the pool. Taking a look around, my eyes took note of certain features of your back yard: the back of the house itself, the hose reel, the sprinkler panel, the sun chairs, and the vast yard itself. Thoughts fluttered in my mind, and a silly smirk drew itself upon my face. It was then that I came back to reality when you tapped me shoulder, gesturing to the sunscreen bottle in your hand. I blinked, and then nodded humbly as you laid face down, undoing your top.

Just where I want you...

I liberally apply the sunscreen to all of your back, but once I'm done, I take advantage of you laying down and tip-toe over to the sprinkler panel. I've worked this thing before, and now was the time for to make good on all my waiting. Closing the panel, I walked steadily over to the hose and quietly began to pull out a length of it. Ensuring the hose head valve was shut, I turn on the water, and put it down close to the grass. With the minute or so I had left, I knelt down, and ever so gently, kissed the back of your neck. With the desired reaction, I feel your body shiver giddily, and hear you giggling. I tell you its all apart of the fun, and just as you begin to question me about what fun I'm refering to...


With perfect timing, sprinkler heads began to pop out of the ground, one after the other, and as they filled with water, they began to shower the entire the lawn, including us. The shock of cold water raining down on you jolts you enough to make you scramble to your feet, hurriedly trying to collect your towel before it was too late. Fortunately, it already was, but not for the towel. Calmly I stood to my full height next to you, and with little grace I give you firm push backwards, knowing full well you're not the best with your sense of balance. You arms wave wildly for but a second until your rear comes in contact with the ground, an odd foomph accompanying it. After a short squeak, you look right at me, eyes burning in a confused and betrayed manner, but that doesn't last long. Before you can even muster a curse or stern insult you feel a coolness entering your lower half. The anger in your expression leaves instantaneously as you take a look around, until your see your rear end...

Slowly but surely, it begins widening, getting rounder, bloating outward.

Your shrill squeal pierces my ears as you frantically try to push yourself off. By now you must know that you conveniently fell on a sprinkler, and all that water that would be going to the lawn is now flooding into your soft, bubbly bum. Turning your head to the left and right, doing your best to get a glimpse and your filling behind, you forget to take notice of where I've gone. Yet, by the time you do notice, once again it is already too late. Standing before you was myself in all my wet and shining glory, armed with a now running hose. Determined to not let you get a single word in the hose soon finds its way inside your mouth, stuck so securely that it stays even after I let go. Your eyes widen incredibly while you begin to tug hopelessly at hose as the flow of water from it starts to fill your cheeks, rushing steadily into you. As you take in what soon amasses to be gallons of liquid, you quickly come to the realization that its not going down into your stomach...

Its billowing out your uncovered breasts, bulging them more and more like waterballoons...

For the most part, everything had gone according to plan: you, filling up in a rapid pace, not only from one end, but two! Bigger and bigger you became, your once lithe form bloating to newer and larger sizes. Your entire form becan to somewhat raise higher with the size that your butt had obtained. Each cheek tremored with the sloshing and whirling waters that were within. Your breasts weren't far behind as each minute the hose pumped water into you was another cup or more added to your liquidy bust.

Admiring my work, I stepped around your swelling form, poking and proding where I saw fit. You didn't take notice, but who could blame you, having your body slowly transform more and more into a watery hourglass is something that demands one's full attention. While still frantic, I sense a calm overcoming the fear, as you cup your impressive breasts together, feeling their softness, their sloshyness, how smooth your wet skin is beneath your grip. After a while, I even see a blush reddening your cheeks. To me, this couldn't have went any better, as I kneel to your side, a curious hand lifting to squeeze your squishy bosom. Your face says a thousand words in response to my touch, but this is just the beginning.

Larger you swell, plumping up marvelously, steadily more, and more, and more!

The soft sounds coming from your lips signal the intense sensation. Each touch feels like electricity, stinging so lightly, but so desirable. Your behind rivals two overly filled bean-bag chairs, your bust surpassing even the largest of beachballs, swaying heftily on your chest. On your figure, these proportions are simply outrageous, and only getting more and more so as time passes. Though, you want more it seems. Your hands run all over your body, squeezing, touching, holding, kneading. My hands are right there with yours, rubbing, massaging, pushing, teasing. Everything is flowing and flooding, pushing your limits with each ounce, each quart, each gallon that fills you. Soft but ushered moans flutter from your limits. You can feel the pressure mounting. Higher and Higher! Larger you fill, bigger you bulge! I reach my hands around to your front and give both your swollen nipples the firmest squeeze!

Your pleasured and water muffled scream fills my ears...and then all goes silent.

One by one, the sounds of sputtering sprinklers come to and end, as they all retreat back into the ground. The timer on the garden hose even times out, and with a gentle tug I pull it free from your mouth. You breathe heavily for short time as I drape myself across your shoulder, nuzzling my cheek into yours. For a time you marvel at the sheer size you have gained, reveling in the wonders that are your massively plump breasts, and your stupendously large rear end. Getting up, I walk around to your front, and slump onto your breasts to see you face to face. I give a slight remark, something to the effect of things not being bad. And for my efforts, I receive a flick to my nose, and a stubborn, but thankful grin.

Completely worth it.

Life is always a bit better once you pop a few buttons.



Amazing yet having a sprinkler head shoved up my butt seems kinda painful lol.  I couldnt have asked for better. Thanks love!


I'm male and I'm into either air or water inflation. I also like to bounce around or be bounced on. Popping is always a plus for me.

I usually prefer full body inflation, but I can take anything else. I always welcome something new whether it's what I am inflated with, how I am inflated, or even what is inflating.

darth_clone19's picture

As this advances I'd like to take on some of you :p Probably more into the weekend. However Ill leave my info if anyone wants to do me.


Im male, 5'11, long dark brown hair, stubble. I like helium, floating and the humiliation aspect. I like constraint and popping. Full body, as in cheeks, fingers, hands, feet...the whole deal :p Maybe like an angry or jealous girlfriend in a public place.

 -   Read my stories: 


I'll take this one, and post it when  i can :3


Your girlfriend, Cindy, glared at you from a distance. You where hanging out with a friend of yours from school. But Cindy was't aware that she was simply a friend. " WHat's she have that I dont? CIndy asked herself. She was slim with a decent cup size, long blonde hair with brigh tblue ees, a cute face. She thought she was great. " And then this two timing loser goes behind my back and does this..." she grumbled. She was watching you two from a distanc ein the park. It was a bright sunny day outside, with a few other people in the park. Frowning, she looked around, and saw a clown selling balloons nearby. A grin crossed her face when she saw the large heluim tank's he had. " I think I've got an idea" Cindy said to herself, her smile turning to an evil grin.

She waited until you where alone, conviently near the balloon stand. The clown had left to take his break and the other girl having gone off to the public bathroom. " So, thinking you can go off with another girl, huh?" asked Cindy suddenly, stomping up to you. She grabbed you by the shoulder. You looked surprised. But as you opened your mouth to explain yourself, Cindy cut ou off. " I don't want to hear it!" she shouted. " I'll teahc you to cheat on me!". She grabbed the hose from one of the tank's, and jammed it in your mouth. SHe held it there, tightly, and turned the valve on full blast. Your cheeks puffed out as helium blasted into you, going into your body. " Maybe if there's more of you, more girls well be attracted to you!" snaped Cindy, giving you an evil grin. YOur belly quickly began to blow outward, coming out from under your t-shirt. You tried to muffle out for her to stop, but Cindy wasn't having any of it. Your body grew quickly, your belly surging outward and ushing your shirt up. Your arms and legs quickly followed, even your fingers and toes.A wince came across your face, making Cindy laugh. " WHat's wrong, getting full balloon boy?' she asked, shoving the hose deeper. " You should have thought about that before you cheated on me!". Behind you, your butt ballooned outward, stretching your pants tighter on your body. Clearly she was enjoying this far to much as she watched you expand, her eyes fixated on you, not caring about anything else around you two. People who had been walking by stopped, watching your ballooning body as well. You began to round out, your cloth's tearing in a few places, trying to contain you as helium filled you entirely. Slowly, but surely, you started floating off the ground. " Just like the balloon you are" sneered Cindy, looking up at you as you started floating. It was then she noticed the girl you where with before out of the corner of her eye. With one last smile, she darted off, leaving the girl to find you still expanding, the hose jamemd deep into your throat. " Oh my god, what happened!?" she cried, looking up at you as yo grew bigger and bigger with each passing second. As Cindy was walking away, a loud pop suddenly filled her ears, making an even larger grin cross her face.




Not as good as the other writers here. I'm a bit rusty, but then agian, they're better then me anyway lol. Hope it came out alright all the same

darth_clone19's picture

that was nice thank you :)

 -   Read my stories: 

Blueberry boy 17

Can you write one for mine please, it's #22


I'm female, 6 feet tall, and brown haired. I'd like full body inflation, either air or helium, and being used as a plaything by a girlfriend (preferably below average height. Oddly specific, I know). Nothing overly explicit please, and I'm not a fan of public humiliation either.

I've never really thought about being the inflatee before, this is mostly experimental. If I don't like the story, it's most likely my problem, not yours. Thanks in advance to any takers.


Water/blueberry inflation with rolling is also good. Pretty much as long as it's full body inflation. And I forgot to mention no popping!


I think I'll go ahead and take a shot at this one.  Stay tuned for updates!


I think I might hop in for salty seconds after you're done with this one :)


Hey!! I will put this one last time, I hope nobody gets angry for it, its just I really really want it :D

I'm a male, 1.76 mts, brown hair, thin, 20 years. I'm also into balloon fetish so I'd really want if u could include something like that. I'd like to be forced to inflate by a girlfriend or something like that, either in public or private. Thanks!!


I whipped this up really quick. Not much of a writer, so excuse me if it isn't very well executed. :P

(Also, apologies if you didn't want it to be sexual. It kinda just happened!)

Riiip! Your shirt starts tearing under the pressure as the large, red balloon inflating underneath pushes it to its limits. You grasp what you can of your 'balloon belly' with your arms and embrace in a tight hug, letting out an intense moan. The creaks and groans of the balloon intensify as it nears its capacity. The pressures become so intense that you've begun to shake, trying to keep yourself together until the very end. The hose thickens as space inside the latex sphere becomes seldom avalible. The bottom part of the balloon was shoved crudely into your underwear, pulling on the elastics and pushing down onto your private regions more and more with each passing second.

Your girlfriend has been giggling to herself ever since you've started; She never knew how much you were into balloons, so the two of you had spent most of the day playing with all the different possibilities that came to your head: Balloon riding, humping, underwear stuffing, and all sorts of other ideas that ended up being an absolute blast. After all this, she had stripped down into her panties. She had been making sure the pump was operating normally, while at the same time giving you encouragement and playing with the massive balloon that threatened to rip your shirt in half. "You look so cute!" She would exclaim enthusiastically, giving you a gently placed hug and a kiss on the lips. As she was drumming her fingers on your taut shirt, wondering when the balloon would rupture in a massive explosion, a rather curious idea had came to her. She initially opposed it; it sounded too dangerous, and there was no way you would accept it anyways. But, at the same time, she had started growing more and more curious. Her curiosity had eventually overcome her, and she immediately went into action.

"Just a second, sweetie!" She said in an innocent tone. "I got a really cool idea!"

It was the perfect time; There was no way you would be able to stop her, what with the giant balloon impeding most of your movement. She went to where the compressor was connected to the balloon, the hose snaking into your stretched underwear. As she carefully and quietly reached in and removed the hose, she couldn't help but notice your massive member. After a moment of contemplating playing with your erection while you were so helpless, she decided that what she originally had in mind was going to be much more...interesting.

She tied the balloons nozzle and let go. This was the first thing to catch your attention, and you rock around a bit, trying to get a glimpse of what she was doing. Unfortuneatly, your entire vision was blocked by your overstretched, taut shirt. She leaned down and put a finger inside the backend of your trousers and pulled it towards her. Your face flushes red as you feel your bare buttocks become exposed to the air of the bedroom, and to the sight of your girlfriend. She moans in lust, then carefully starts pushing the hose between your buttcheeks. The alien feeling causes you to lose your composure and start frantically bobbing around, trying to move any part of you. The hose squeezes into your bum with almost no difficulty; you could feel the air starting to push its way into your body. The cool air sends shivers throughout your body, your erection starting to push against the balloon.

Your girlfriend starts giggling uncontrollably; your shock-filled face just looked so silly to her as the compressor pumped more and more air into you. You couldn't see it, but you could definitely feel it: A building pressure at the base of your gut. You could feel the pressure starting to become stronger, and stronger, and stronger. Soon, you could feel your belly filling up and bloating out, your balloon and shirt trying to force your belly down again. You start panting, the pressure on your body making it harder to breathe. Unable to stop your body from inflating, you simply hug what you can of your balloon-stuffed shirt and groan, hoping you dont pop.

Your belly must have been the size of a basketball. No, a beachball! You couldn't tell very well, but the bloated feeling of your gut was starting to feel...pretty pleasuring. The feeling of pressure had subsided, your brain getting sick of processing all of the different sensations. It was becoming easier to focus on just your bellies inflation, but you start to notice that the air is starting to displace itself, not just inside your belly, but your entire body! Your arms, legs, and midsection all start to puff up and fill with air. The sensation was breathtaking in a very strange way. It was as if you were actually becoming a balloon! The thought of being a huge balloon was so amazing! So sexy! So...


You couldn't help yourself. You started to thrust against the balloon, wave after wave of pleasure starting to overtake you.


Your body trembled. Your heart raced. Every muscle in your body started to tense...


You held your breath and balled your fists. Suddenly, every part of your body flushes with the most intense orgasm you've ever felt, and you let out an unearthly shriek.


After a few minutes, your body finally relaxes. You've begun panting, realizing that the hose had popped out of you from the pressure. You lay your head back and look to your right. You see your girlfriend, nude, laying against a large blue balloon. Her whole body was drenched with sweat and she looked exhausted. The balloon was also soaked, giving off an odd shine. She wiped her brow with her left arm and sat up again. She speaks faintly and out-of-breath. "That was amazing..."