Any Witch Way

Date Written: 

Any Witch Way
by SvenSvenson

Disclaimer:  Naughty, inflatable themes herein.
For mature audiences only.

She had been stalked before, but this guy was the first one who'd managed to track her down at work.   Like most midday afternoons, there were no other customers in the store but the man seemed to be wandering about aimlessly.  When he first came in he had hovered over by the keyboards, then slinked over to percussion, and finally made his way to the guitar room.  The only other person in the shop was the loser guitar tech Johnny, and he was sitting in the corner tuning his Strat and too wasted to know what day of the week it was.  Kaitlyn found it amazing that he could pluck the strings of the electric guitar with all the Cheeto dust clinging to his fingers.

She wasn't entirely sure he was there just for her sake but the dead giveaway was catching the guy staring in her direction several times.  When she realized what was going on, Kaitlyn started screwing with him by slowly moving around the store and ignoring him, only to suddenly turn and face in his direction.  He was never quite fast enough and kept getting caught, but after a couple times he learned to at least peak at her out of the corner of his eye.

He was painfully out of place in the store but he looked familiar and Kaitlyn was certain she had seen him before.  Without saying a word, his conservative manner of dress and grooming spoke volumes.  It said "I am an accountant" and not "I am a garage band drummer".  It clashed rather comically with all the posters of Death Metal bands and copious umlauts surrounding him. 

Kaitlyn quickly bored of the cat and mouse game so she walked over to the cash register and started flipping through a magazine.  An elbow on the display case and forearm with an upturned palm served as a pedestal for her chin.  After a few moments, she sensed the man walking her way and she looked up at him.  This time, though, he returned her gaze as he approached from the far side of the store.

"Let's see, how shall I tell him to fuck-off?" she quietly mused to herself, "Let me count the ways".  She rolled her eyes and then continued perusing her copy of Metal Guitar Gods Illustrated.

As the man neared the counter, Kaitlyn huffily looked up from her reading and put on her best I-am-not-impressed look.  She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"You're quite the talented one, aren't you?" the man said in a confident drawl.  Kaitlyn hesitated, the tone of his comment taking her by surprise. 

"What?"  She tried to sound annoyed.

The man placed his hands on the glass counter and leaned in, staring into her eyes.  She involuntarily shifted back a bit, chin still in hand and elbow firmly planted.  She furrowed her brow and deftly placed her other hand behind her back.  Had Johnny been sober, he would have noticed that a faint, glowing ball of green light began to form in her palm.

The man stared intently back and with a lowered voice and spoke again.  "I know what I saw." 

The open-ended statement was disturbingly alarming but she kept her cool.  Inwardly, though, she was panicking and trying to recall every drunken reverie she'd been to in the last couple weeks.  Static pulses began to jump between her fingertips and the glowing ball hovering in the palm of her hand.

"The rave.  You know, Saturday night.  I saw what you did to that girl.  Don't try to hide it."

"The rave, of course!" she thought.  "Wait... the rave?  What rave?  That rave? I don't remember a damned thing.  I was so wasted, what the hell did I do?"  She stood up straight and stepped back half a pace, one arm still behind her back.  Her panic began to leak through onto her face.  What the hell did this guy see?  The glowing ball crackled more intensely.

"Just like a helium balloon - floated up into the rafters."

Her fierceness melted away into a deer-in-the-headlights stare.  "Oh.... shit", she thought, and brought the glowing ball around to her front, readying it for action. 

He smirked and continued holding her gaze.  "Put it away, sweetie."

Kaitlyn drew back her hand, preparing to hit him with the glowing projectile.  The fierceness had returned.

"Relax, cupcake."

A white-hot anger boiled up within her and she paused for a moment, unable to think straight.

"I want to hire you."

The glowing ball winked out of existence with an audible pop.  Kaitlyn blinked several times, holding the attack pose for a moment as the words sunk in.

"You want to do... what?" she asked, fluttering her eyes in disbelief and cocking her head to the side.

"M-O-N-E-Y" He spelled out. "Unless, of course, ya'll are satisfied with your present career prospects."

She blinked again and tried to process what had just happened.  In the corner, Johnny plucked a cluelessly off tone C and then reached into his bag of Cheetos.


The following weekend, Kaitlyn found herself standing out in the cold at the end of an unfamiliar bus route.  Exhaust fumes swirled about her.  The surly driver's only acknowledgement of her existence had been the operation of the door to let her out.  The evening's downpour had stopped shortly before she had gotten off the bus and as the whirlwind of diesel fumes dissipated, the damp air was cold and still again.  She stood there looking around as her eyes slowly adjusted to the night. 

The houses out here were huge, bigger and fancier than her parents' place.  Utterly devoid of individuality or charm, they were the kind that social climbers aspired to.  Her Mom and Dad would fit right it, she decided.  This place was death by ennui; a suburban no-man's land where creativity marched out to die, bleeding out in silent agony.  In both directions, the street curved with a banal, calculated flair.  The decorative street lights on either side had been chosen so as to vaguely allude to Victorian London, as envisioned by an urban planner who's only reference point had been to watch Mary Poppins.  Once.  A long time ago. 

Kaitlyn rifled through her tiny purse and removed the crumpled up map she'd hastily printed off before leaving work.  It took a moment to get her bearings but she was soon walking down the middle of the deserted street.  The pale light of the lamps reflected off the wet pavement and surrounded her with an entourage of shadows that ebbed and flowed as she walked.  The houses got bigger and fancier as she went.  Her heels tapped loudly on the wet pavement and her frozen breath hung thickly in the artificial light.  She pulled her blazer as tightly over her lithe frame as she could.  Still, she was giddy.  The man had given her a large cash down payment before he had left the shop and promised more to come if she agreed to his terms.

The first clue that she was nearing her destination was that the empty street began to yield to the presence of dozens of expensive cars parked along it.  She came to a halt in front of what appeared to be the correct house and then checked its address against her map:  they matched.  The place was even bigger than all the other McMansions she had just passed.  The muted conversation and laughter coming from inside and the shadows moving across the brightly lit window curtains were telltale signs that Kaitlyn knew all too well:  Party. 

She climbed the stairs to the porch and stepped over to the opulent double doors of the home's entrance.  For the first time in a while, she felt self-conscious about her present socioeconomic status and its precipitous decline from her upbringing.  It had taken her long time trying to shake that particular cultural echo out of her psyche but it always managed to poke it's head out and mock her.  The animated conversation on the other side of the door got louder as she approached. 

She pushed the door bell switch and a few moments later her patron answered, neatly dressed in khakis, loafers, and a sweater.  He held an overflowing martini glass in a death grip, its contents spilling over the side from an unsteady hand.  "How you doin', sweetie?" drawled the man who had introduced himself in the shop only as Mr. Smith.  "We've been waitin' for ya!  Come on in!"

Kaitlyn stepped through the door and into the brightly lit foyer.  Party guests stood about in small groups chatting amicably with one another in the cheerfully loud manner that distilled spirits induced.  Light jazz played from some unseen audio system. Mr. Smith closed the door behind her and then, lightly touching her elbow, led the petite woman through the guest-filled front parlor and towards the kitchen.  It was now her turn to be the one who was sartorially out-of-place.  These people looked more like they were attending a golf club soiree than any party she'd been to.  Maybe they were. 

Her purple-streaked hair, piercings, and leather miniskirt certainly drew attention, but it wasn't the sneering she usually got from this sort of crowd.  No, their eyes seemed to light up when they saw her.  Some folks turned around and smiled and two women even whispered to each other about her.  Everyone was so polite, excusing themselves as Mr. Smith pushed on by with a tipsy "Comin' through!"   Kaitlyn liked being the center of attention, but this was unnerving. 

The kitchen was almost as big as her apartment; a huge expanse of fine woods, glass, polished stone, and stainless steel.  Mr. Smith put down his drink on the wide center island counter before ushering some chatting guests out the other door.  He closed it behind them.  Trays of hors d'eourves and bottles of fine wines and liquors covered much of the counter's surface. "Make yerself comfortable, sweetie" he bade her as he opened the door to the walk-in pantry.  She slipped off her thrift shop blazer and placed it on the back of a stool that was next to the island, revealing her patterned green tube top, and then jauntily plunked down on the stool herself.  As Mr. Smith muddled about in the pantry, Kaitlyn gobbled up a ham-and-cheese on a toothpick from one of the party trays and then reached over to his martini glass, tipped it back, and drained it.  She coughed from the high alcohol content and then smacked her lips before wiping them with the back of her gloved hand.  "Whoa."

Mr. Smith chuckled as he emerged from the pantry. "Good stuff" he commented and motioned to the cornucopia of treats on the counter.  "Help yourself."  He turned around and then, walking backwards, pulled out a hand truck with a large helium tank chained to it.  In his free hand he carried a large paper bag.  Kaitlyn's attention perked up.

"Honey, go into the fridge and pull out the shot trays." 

Kaitlyn grabbed another piece of ham and cheese as she bounced up from her chair, devouring it on the way to the large, double door refrigerator.

"On the right" Mr. Smith directed. 

She opened up the stainless steel monster to find it heavily stocked.  On two of the mid-level shelves were trays with empty shot glasses being chilled.  One after the other, she pulled the trays out and placed them on the counter as Mr. Smith positioned the metal tank.  "Oh, and get all the stuff on the lower pull-out drawer, too, will ya'?"  Kaitlyn complied.

As she finished, Mr. Smith reached over and grabbed her hand, placing a large rolled-up wad of cash in it.  "I'm glad you showed up.  Here's a little something extra." 

Kaitlyn stared, wide-eyed at the wad.  There was enough money in her hand than for several months' rent. 

"Go on, put it away.  We have work to do."

She felt giddy and numb as she tucked the roll into her purse. Maybe it was the martini.  Mr. Smith chuckled again and smiled when she turned back around.  The helium tank stood next to him with an inflation valve and hose now installed.  On the counter were several bags worth of large balloons and a roll of string.

"Now, first off," Mr. Smith said while patting the top of the cylinder,  "we're gonna need some magic helium..."

They emerged from kitchen and into the adjoining Great room.  It was huge; part yuppie banquet hall and part living room.  Its vaulted ceiling rose more than two storeys above the guests' heads and the wall at the far end was all windows.  As the curious guests looked on, the duo cleared one of the tables of its food and drink and then dove back into the kitchen.  Walking backwards, Mr. Smith re-emerged through the swinging door pulling the helium tank.  As he set it back up next to the table, Kaitlyn followed.  She was holding a clutch of brightly colored helium balloons and as she tied them to the back of a chair, the guests' chatter became more animated. 

The pair shuttled back and forth to the kitchen several more times, bringing the now filled shot trays and more balloons.  Other guests began filtering into the room from elsewhere, attracted by the commotion.  On the final trip, Mr. Smith and Kaitlyn paused in the kitchen, each holding another martini as expectant chatter filled the room on the other side of the door.  Mr. Smith looked over to Kaitlyn and spoke.  "Ready?"

"Ready!" replied the witch.

They clinked their glasses together and downed the contents.  "Good stuff" commented Mr. Smith. 

Kaitlyn coughed.  "Whoa."

All eyes followed the host and his sidekick as they stepped through the kitchen door and up onto a small dais next to the table.  Mr. Smith produced a microphone and pressed a button on it.  Two large curtains converged from either side of the windowed wall, slowly hiding the night sky.  With the press of another button, the light jazz on the audio system was silenced. 

A small feedback loop whined briefly as he brought the microphone up to his chin.  He spoke to the crowd.  "Everybody, this is Kaitlyn!"

"Hi Kaitlyn!" the crowd bawdily shouted back.

"Kaitlyn, this is everybody!"  She waved back to the crowd excitedly.  A hearty laughter rose, mixed with cheering and the raising of drinks in her honor. 

"I've been talking up this little party for a while now" he continued.  "And I believe our guest of honor will help me deliver on my promises.  I'm glad ya'll made it."  The inebriated crowd laughed.  "Now, this little lady has taken the time come all the way out here to be with us tonight"  Mr. Smith continued. He motioned to the table.  "We've prepared a few treats for everyone that I think will fit the bill." 

He then bent down and pulled up a large glass vase from the dais and held it high for everyone to see. 

"In addition to that, she's agreed to take a few requests."  Many an eyebrow in the crowd raised as everyone looked at her expectantly.  Kaitlyn smiled, and made a sarcastic curtsey.  "So be sure to add a little sumpthin' in the tip jar, here, to make it worth her while." 

Kaitlyn looked over at Mr. Smith with genuine surprise as he reached over and placed the vase on the table next to the party favors.  He then picked up one of the full shot glasses.  She stepped down from the dais and took up station by the table with her hands clasped behind her back, occasionally bouncing on her heels.  She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Who's the first volunteer?"  Mr. Smith asked of his guests.  Many hands shot up.  He scanned the crowd, holding his hand over his eyes as if shading them from the sun.  He spotted someone in particular and then pointed and motioned for her to come forward.  "Ah, Samantha, you airhead" he joked.  "Get yer butt up here!"   Laughter rose from the crowd.

A woman stepped through the obliging guests and joined Mr. Smith on the platform.  Like everyone else at the party, she was dressed nicely but with clothing that seemed to be a little ill fitting.  She sported an oversize green blouse that was tucked into a pleated skirt and she stood there daintily on high heels with an air of frantic energy.  Below the hem of her skirt were shapely calves dressed in nylon stockings. 

He talked to the curvy woman in the over-acted manner of a smarmy game show host.  "So, have you been enjoying the evening's festivities, miss?" 

The woman giggled and shoved him playfully.  "Yes!" the vivacious red head exclaimed.

"Well, then!"  he said, acting as if taking offense at being pushed.  "Aren't we bubbly tonight?"  He handed the shot glass to Samantha who accepted it cautiously.  "Here's a little something to lighten you up even more."  

She inspected the fizzing drink for a moment.  "What's this going to do to me?"  There was genuine concern in her voice.

Mr. Smith placed his free hand on her generous hip as he spoke to her with the microphone at his chin.  "Why don't you take a sip and show us?"  He smiled and then stepped back.  The crowd hushed.  "Go ahead" he urged. 

Nervously, Samantha brought the shot glass to her nose and sniffed the rim.  It seemed to meet her approval and she brought it to her lips, paused again, and looked over at Mr. Smith for reassurance.  Mr. Smith smiled and gave her a little nod.  She closed her eyes, quickly downed the bubbly drink, and then handed the glass back to her host.

She licked her lips and stood there for a moment with a puzzled look on her face.  Suddenly she doubled over, putting her hands on her belly.  Her eyes shot wide open and she looked back up at the emcee with amazement.  "Oh my!" she blurted out. 

"Something wrong?" asked Mr. Smith as he turned and gave an exaggerated wink to his guests.

"It tickles!" she squealed. The audience was intensely focused on her every move, as was Kaitlyn.  Samantha then shrieked as a loud hiss rose.  Her belly started to grow under her blouse and skirt, rounding out and pushing her hands away as if a beach ball was being inflated under them.  She then straightened up with a gasp, arching her back and throwing her arms out to her sides.  Her breasts, previously two vague bumps hidden under the oversize blouse, began to swell beneath.  The tenting green fabric pulled at the restraining buttons down the front, revealing glimpses of a white brassiere playing peek-a-boo.  It valiantly tried to contain her ballooning bazzooms.  She reached up and grabbed them and they squeaked as they rubbed together.

The wide belt around her waist quickly halted her belly’s progress.  With nowhere else to go, the magical gas filling her seemed to divert into her already curvaceous hips, flaring out her skirt.  Its hem crept upward as the pleats were flattened out by her ballooning legs and you could see her straining underwear pressing into her pneumatic derrière.  Shapely thighs squeaked as they swelled against each other, quickly taking up the remaining empty space in the skirt.  Nylon stockings stretched as far as they could before beginning to rip down the seams.  She began to look unsteady, slowly swaying side to side and waving her arms about.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed.  "I feel so light!"  Her entire chest seemed to be filling up now. There was a muffled popping sound as her panties gave up the battle. A moment later, her brassiere followed.  Its front clasp snapped apart and her swelling chest shook and ballooned out into the blouse's remaining volume.

She had quickly gone from curvy, to zaftig, and now was a balloony parody of a woman with a bust so large there was no way she could ever put her arms around it.  Wide, shiny thighs barely squeezed into her skirt.  Her belt kept her waist in check, though, giving her an extreme hourglass figure.  She stifled another shriek.  Eyes panicking, she was teetering on the toes of one foot as the air around her desperately tried to push her upwards.  "Wh-what's happening?" she cried.

With another shriek, her other foot left the ground and she slowly began drifting upwards.  The loud hissing began to diminish.  Mr. Smith reached out to her and she grabbed his hand, halting her ascension.  He pulled her down and then wrestled with her pneumatic body until he could get his arm around her waist.  Her inflated bust incessantly pushed upward, each ballooning boob bobbling and squeaking off the other in buoyant rivalry as they waved about in Mr. Smith's face.  She tried the best she could to anchor herself with an arm around his neck while her legs floated about weightlessly above the dais.  The astonished guests looked on.

"Now, then" he inquired. "How do you feel?"

" a balloon" came her stammering reply.

"That's because you are one."

"It's true.  Oh my god, it's really true!" 

"Yes it is" answered Mr. Smith.  "And you know what helium balloons do, don't you, silly lady?"

She could barely think.  Then, her eye's shot wide open with full attention.  "Don't you dare!" she squealed. "Don't you dare!"

He smiled mischievously and then let go of her waist and pushed her away.  Quite rapidly, she floated up over the crowd and toward the vaulted ceiling twenty-five feet above.  She must have repeated the phrase "Oh my god!" half a dozen times before bumping into the angled ceiling and sliding upward to the exposed ridge joist, bouncing the whole way.  All eyes followed her up. 

"Man, she really is an airhead" Kaitlyn muttered under her breath.

Mr. Smith spoke again to the crowd, drawing their attention back to earth. "Well, that certainly looked fun!  Any takers?"

Partygoers rushed the table and Kaitlyn picked up the two trays with the shot glasses and passed them to eager hands.  As the platters traveled around the room, people would take a glass and down the contents.  You could chart where the trays had been by the trail of inflated men and women.  The sounds of ripping fabric and popping buttons punctuated the loud hissing that filled the room.  More shrieks and laughter followed as the inflated people began floating upwards.  Several couples were kissing and groping each other as they rose, giggling with delight.  The balloonified people bounced into each other as they rose, finally joining Samantha at the top.  They laughed and talked excitedly with each other as they bounced around on the high ceiling.

Mr. Smith again addressed the guests, pointing out another woman in the group.  "You!" he cried at a brunette in a ribbed white cocktail dress. 

The woman shot back a look of "Who, me?"

Mr. Smith smiled and playfully snapped his fingers at her.  "Yes, you - front and center!"

As the woman timidly approached, Mr. Smith picked out a bright, yellow helium balloon from the bunch that was fastened to the chair, untied it, and pinched its neck while pulling out the plastic stopper.  The woman stepped up to the platform with a nervous smile.  She was very slim and her plunging neckline barely hinted at any kind of cleavage.  A golden necklace dangled over her flat décolletage.  Mr. Smith handed her the large balloon.  The woman trembled as she took possession of it.

"This is another fun one" he continued.  "Just close your eyes, think of what you want, and inhale from it."  The partiers momentarily forgot about their ballooned compatriots high above and now focused their attention back up to the front.  The woman's eyes went wide and she placed a hand on her flat chest. 

"Will it..." she began to ask.

"Yes, of course they will - if that's what you want" came the answer before the question could be completed.

The woman smiled broadly then closed her eyes and brought the balloon close.  She gathered her thoughts for a moment and then breathed out before pressing the neck to her lips.  She inhaled deeply.  Almost immediately, her chest ballooned outward.  Expanding breasts pressed into fabric that closely hugged the new bust line.  Her free hand, spanning her chest, rode a swelling tide of cleavage.  She had gone from flat to busty in mere seconds.

Looking down at her new figure, she exclaimed "Oh my god!" in a high pitched voice.  "My voice" she then squeaked, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Well, yes, it is helium" said Mr. Smith as he chuckled.  There was still quite a bit of it left in the balloon.

"Bigger!" She closed here eyes and inhaled again, though much more deeply this time.  Her chest swelled obligingly as her breasts blew up like a pair of balloons.  They lightened up as they inflated, rising.  Only the ribbed fabric of her dress checked their ascent.  Her necklace dropped into the deep, soft cleavage.  Once the balloon was spent, she looked down at her new bust and shook her shoulders back and forth.  "Look at me!" she squealed.

"Oh, we are!" one of the men in front insisted.  Laughter erupted from the crowd.

She laughed, too, and then threw her arms around Mr. Smith.  Her bazzooms squeaked as they rubbed up against him and he put his arm around her shoulders, kissing her on the forehead.  Her boobs were so big that he had to lean over to reach around her as he patted her on the back.  "Go show them off" he instructed.  He playfully slapped her on the rear as she bounced off the stage.  She looked back at him and giggled.

Mr. Smith again looked over at Kaitlyn and signaled her to start passing out the balloons.  Soon, there were more people expanding in various ways.  One woman had obviously gotten hold of several of the big balloons and blown herself into silly proportions.  She had inhaled just enough helium to make her weightless and was being bounced around the room above everybody's heads.

Samantha and some of the earlier inflatees began to slowly drift down from the vaulted ceiling.


As the crowd enjoyed the spectacle, Mr. Smith stepped down and ducked into the kitchen, only to re-emerge with another couple of mixed drinks.  He was a happy drunk, delicately stumbling as he walked.  He did an impressive job of keeping his wits about him.  "Here ya' go little lady" he said as he pressed one of the drinks into Kaitlyn's hand. 

She felt a tang of annoyance; that was the second time he had referred to her as "little".  It might be a cute little regional idiom to him, but it grated on her.  She held her tongue and accepted the drink anyway, albeit with a subtle eye roll.  What the hell, it was free booze.  Good booze.  And he was giving her money.  Shitloads of money. 

Besides, the guy was obviously drunk. 

She let it go.

The crowd ebbed and flowed in laughter and conversation as guests continued to experiment.  Mr. Smith busied himself by filling up more of the big balloons for his guests to enjoy.  As the the crowd's attention focused toward the helium tank and balloons, a man, leading a woman by the hand, walked up to Kaitlyn as she leaned on the table while sipping her Cosmo.  She put down the half empty glass, folded her arms, and regarded the man with a practiced indifference.  He seemed a little bit shy, but the woman was bouncy and playful.

"Will you do a request for us?" he asked sheepishly.

Although she had agreed to it, actually having someone openly ask this of her felt very odd.  Her magic secret was a gift that she jealously protected (occasional drunken public demonstrations notwithstanding).  She wasn't a bear riding a bicycle in a three-ring circus, dammit.  Without breaking eye contact with the man, she picked up her drink, finished it, and set the glass back down.  "Sure" she said flatly as she re-folded her arms.  "What do you want?"

The man hesitated and glanced at his companion.  He couldn't look Kaitlyn in the eye.  "We, uh... we..."

Kaitlyn cocked her head to the side impatiently. It didn't help his nervousness. 

"We'd like... would... you turn us into parade balloons?" the man finally asked. 

Kaitlyn sighed in disdain.  The woman giggled and then placed two fifty dollar bills into the tip jar.

Kaitlyn perked up immediately as, miracle of miracles, her bad attitude magically vanished.  "Uh, yeah.  That sounds cool."  She motioned for the two to move away from the table and over to a corner.  The woman became even giddier than before. 

"Okay, clothes or no clothes?"  Kaitlyn asked.

"Huh?" said the man.

"Clothes!" the woman blurted out.

"All right, then" Kaitlyn responded.  "Stand apart." 

The two let go of each other's hand.  The woman bounced up and down on her heels while the man looked back and forth nervously from her to Kaitlyn.   The witch held her hands up to her shoulders and then quickly and gracefully lowered her forearms so that her palms faced up.  Out of each hand flew a shiny ball of light that left a sparkling trail in the air.  Before the man and woman could even flinch, the missiles exploded into them, covering the two in a shower of silent sparks.  They gasped as the light faded, first staring at each other and then down at themselves.

"Oh my god!" the woman squealed as a sibilant hiss erupted from them. 

Their chests began surging outward, appearing as if both had suddenly taken a deep breath.  The woman's breasts began inflating over her swelling torso.  Her buttoned pastel blazer pressed them together, forming deep cleavage.  She put her arms around them as if she could stop their progress but they continued unabated, forcing her elbows outward. The man looked like he had suddenly become a body builder as his chest and shoulders puffed up. 

The woman's expansion quickly spread to her belly and the Capri pants that hugged her hips and thighs.  The man's belly also began to swell, stretching his knit sweater across his new girth.  His legs ballooned out to fill his pleated khaki trousers.   Not only were the two expanding outwards, but they also grew taller as the gas filling them stretched them out.  At first, their clothes tightened over their inflating bodies, but then it seemed as though their evening attire began to stretch out with them.  The hissing gained a hollow quality, lowering in tone as they ballooned.

The sound drew the attention of a few of the other guests nearby, who walked over to the group.  They smiled and laughed.

The blimping couple's shoulders began to puff out, pulling their arms up and making it look like they were shrugging.  Legs were forced apart as they blew upwards, at first looking like stuffed sausages and then rounding out.  Their backs also began to inflate and before long their upper bodies had become more spherical.  Arms and legs continued swelling larger and larger as they began merging into their torsos.  Their crotches ballooned downwards towards the floor and their belts and pants stretched with rounding bodies. 

Kaitlyn folded her arms across her chest as they inflated, smiling as she admired her work.

When they reached about ten feet in height, the pair stopped getting taller.  The magical gas pushed out more forcefully into their bodies and the swelling forced each into a balloony spread-eagle.  Even their heads puffed up a little and then their hands and fingers did as well.  The woman's breasts were now gigantic in proportion to her expanding torso.  The sole button on her jacket strained but stayed intact as the garment stretched to match her ballooning chest.  Their heads began to sink into their expanding shoulders.  Bellies rounded out like giant beach balls.

More guests noticed the commotion and joined the audience.

The woman began teetering on one leg and then left the ground, her buoyant body swinging horizontally into a prone position as it slowly gained altitude.  "Wheee!" she squealed.  The man followed in quick succession.  He, too, was obviously excited but kept mute.  They inflated a little larger until the hissing suddenly stopped.  As they rose, the entire room looked up at them.  Descending inflatees bounced off of them as the rose, appearing tiny in comparison.  The pair looked at each other and laughed as their backs touched the high ceiling.

Several more partiers came forward with requests and before long there were all manner of inflated and transformed people floating upwards.


Meanwhile, Samantha the test inflatee had finally made it back down to the ground.  Although still cartoonishly inflated, she was able to bounce along on her toes over to Mr. Smith.   From above, one could see her fiery red hair cut a path through the chattering guests.

"Hey there, balloon girl?  Didya have fun up there?"  Mr. Smith asked as she approached.

"Yeah!" she shouted out above the party's cacophony, smiling broadly.  "But I want to go back up."

"Well, we're all out of balloons, sweet cheeks." he gestured at the empty bags on the table.  "See?  All gone."

"Then give me the hose" she commanded.  Mr. Smith complied.

"Now, hold me down."

He chuckled and put two fingers through one of the large belt loops on her skirt.  Samantha brought the inflation nozzle up to her mouth, bit down, and then pressed the lever.  Cold, high-pressure helium flowed into her.  Already gigantic breasts surged back into her tight blouse, pushing out along Mr. Smith's forearm. One of the blouse's buttons popped off and flew in an arc at the helium tank, making a "tink!" sound before landing on the carpet.  Her hips and thighs swelled into her skirt larger than ever and once again she was buoyant.  Mr. Smith continued to hold her down as she blew up even bigger.  Her ballooning figure pulled skyward with ever increasing force.  The guests standing nearby smiled as they watched her progress.

Samantha released the lever and pulled the hose out of her mouth.  "Ha-ha!" she laughed with a squeaky helium voice.  She dropped the hose and began exploring her rejuvenated curves as Mr. Smith held her down by the belt loop.  Her skin squeaked under the stretched fabric.  "Okay, let me go!"  she squeaked.

Samantha rose quickly.  Mr. Smith held onto the ballooning woman's belt loop as his arm was pulled upwards like a tether.  Her arms and legs floated upwards, too, making her look like she was skydiving.  Long, curly red locks cascaded down over puffy shoulders, framing the milky cleavage of her bulbous mammaries.  Her inflated breasts seemed to repel gravity, rolling to and fro across her rounded chest as they relentlessly pushed it skyward.  Her waist, constrained by the belt around it, flared out into cartoonishly ample hips and thighs.  She closed her eyes and raised her chin.  Mr. Smith yanked her down a couple of inches and then let go.  She shot up like a rocket, bumping into several of her fellow inflated guests before her head met the angled ceiling once again.  "OOF!" she exclaimed as she rebounded off of it and continued a slide to the top. Once again at the pinnacle, she laughed with delight and chatted excitedly with the other ballooned people.  The whole group bounced off of one another as their effervescent bodies competed for space.

Mr. Smith heard another loud hissing and looked down from the ceiling to see another woman inhaling deeply from the nozzle.  As her fulsome figure expanded into her loose red cocktail dress, her eyes went wide and her feet left the floor. Mr. Smith grabbed her by the waist and held her down as she, too, blew herself up like Samantha had done.  The partiers gathered around cheered her on as she ballooned.  As soon as the woman dropped the hose, someone else took it and began inflating themselves.  Mr. Smith let the woman go and grabbed the next inflatee.  It would be a while before he was done launching balloons.


Across the room, three women approached the young witch from out of the lively crowd.  Dressed in business attire, it looked like they had come to the party directly from some office job.  Tipsy and giggling, two of them were playfully shoving the third one towards Kaitlyn.  The woman being pushed along in front put up token resistance as she laughed, stumbling on long legs and high-heeled pumps.  Her inebriation couldn't fully mask her nervousness. 

The trio came to a halt in front of Kaitlyn, who stood firm with folded arms, a raised eyebrow, and a smirk on her lips.  "What do you bimbos want?" she asked rather impolitely.  The trio giggled. 

It appeared that at some point, the woman in front had unbuttoned her purple satin blouse down to the waistband of her skirt.  She self-consciously gripped the material in her fists so as to close the gap and not expose herself.  The fabric was stretched tightly across her bust by her clenched fists and it was obvious that she was enormously well endowed.  From the way the woman's breasts bounced and drooped behind their cover, Kaitlyn surmised that she had undone the clasp on her bra as well.

"Go on - tell her!" one of the women behind her urged.

"No!  I can't!" said the tall, chesty one.  Her face was flushing red with embarrassment as she looked down on Kaitlyn.

The third woman then poked her head around from behind, produced a large denomination bill, and placed it in the tip jar.  "She... she said she wants weather balloons!"  With a giggle, the snitch grabbed one of Chesty's pendulous breasts from behind. 

"No! No! NO!" protested Chesty, laughing.  "I did not!"  She slapped away the naughty hand, letting go of the lower part of her blouse in the process.  It parted, exposing some of her generous cleavage.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" chimed in the other, bossy friend while pantomiming in front of the bouncing chest as if it were growing.  "You said it!  I heard you!"

Nearby partygoers closed in on the group with voyeuristic enthusiasm. Kaitlyn's smirk changed to a smile and she stood up straight while unfolding her arms.  She looked down at Chesty's jiggling torso and then back up.  Her hands began to glow and she brought one up in front of her.  The sight was intimidating and as the three women stepped back, Chesty suddenly pushed away from her kidnappers.  "Them, too!" she protested, laughing nervously as she pointed back at them. 

"What?? No!!" the two other women squealed. 

Chesty turned back to Kaitlyn and vigorously shook her head in the affirmative.  "Yes!  YES!!" she insisted.

Kaitlyn smiled more broadly and brought her glowing hand to her mouth, palm side up.  A brightly colored, sparkling cloud formed above it and she pursed her lips and exhaled into it as if blowing a kiss.  The rainbow cloud flew out like dust, settling about Chesty's enormous wobbling breasts before sinking in.  Kaitlyn then brought her other hand up, also with a sparkly cloud, and blew towards the two other women’s chests.  Their eyes followed the magic zephyr as it drifted toward them, gasping when it spilled into their chests.

A loud hiss quickly rose from the trio.  Chesty looked down, mouth agape as her breasts started ballooning out through the opening in her blouse.  She tried to grab the loosened fabric with her free hand but it was too late.  Her pneumatic boobs were rapidly widening the gap, pushing up and out as the fabric she gripped in her other hand began to unfurl.

Chesty's two friends looked at each other in amazement as their torsos billowed outward.  "Oh my god!" they cried in unison.  Their foundation garments strained as ballooning flesh swelled beneath.  With two muffled 'pops', the clasps of the their bras let go.  Shrieking in surprise, their bosoms surged outward, momentarily jiggling free before inflating and filling fabric of their blouses. 

The crowd surrounding them stepped back.

Chesty's cleavage continued to squeeze out between the widening gap in her blouse, her pneumatic boobs swelling like hot air balloons being readied for launch.  One side of the slippery fabric pulled away from her fist and she caught it with her other hand, briefly stalling the inevitable wardrobe malfunction.  Her lofting balloons swelled rapidly, pushing aside her hands until they began to roll out from behind the satin curtains.  They soon popped free, buoyantly swelling faster and faster as they bobbled up and down in front of her face. 

Meanwhile, her two friends squealed in protest as they tried to suppress their own ballooning chests with their hands.  The outward push was relentless and their blouses valiantly resisted the inevitable.  The snitchy one was the first to lose a button and it flew out over the ducking crowd with a "pop".   In rapid succession, their garments rendered themselves, pneumatic cleavage busting out as the buttoned fronts opened up like they were zippered.

"No!" cried Bossy. "I just bought his top!"  Lacey foundation garments were now the only thing keeping their breasts from escaping. 

The swelling accelerated.  Above the under wire cups, their boobs inflated as their bras began to slip down.  Areolas crept up as they slowly peeked out over the tops, dragging nipples that briefly caught on the edge of the cups before popping free.  In mere moments, their boobs were also bobbling up into their faces as they inflated and lifted towards the ceiling.  Soon, they were unable to corral their bouncing chests with their hands.

"I'm getting lighter!" shrieked Chesty as her gaseous boobs' inflation accellerated. They swelled upwards and outwards against her belly and she no longer see over their curves.  Their growing buoyancy tugged upward, arching her back as they swayed back and forth together.  The same was true for Snitchy and Bossy as they, too, began to get light on their feet.  The gawking spectators gathered around had to retreat to make room for the ballooning trio. 

Moment by moment, Chesty found herself going up on the tips of her toes as her body lightened.  Intense butterflies fluttered in her stomach as her breasts swelled, the hollow sound of the magical helium as loud as ever.  She shrieked again as her feet left the ground, uselessly kicking her legs as weather balloon sized boobs lifted her.  Her two friends quickly joined her a few moments later, protesting their situation rather unconvincingly as they drifted up.

The crowd stared in amazement as the three women rose up to the pinnacle of the high ceiling above, joining the other creatively inflated partiers.  Without missing a beat, a pleading cry rose as many more women rushed up to Kaitlyn with money in their hands.  "Me too!  Me too!" they drunkenly shouted.  Once again, Kaitlyn was astounded at the money being, quite literally, thrown at her. A minute later, another half dozen women (and even one guy) were rising off the ground, weather balloon sized breasts pulling them up to join the first three women.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but after a while Kaitlyn actually started to enjoy herself.


The festivities wore on late into the night as mercurial drunks floated about in the cavernous room.  But, like all parties, the number of guests slowly dwindled until all that was left was an empty house.  Catering tables overflowed with opened bottles of wine and spirits.  Picked-over trays of food filled the space in between.  Party favors were scattered about all over as if a ticker tape parade had just marched through the house.  Here and there, the occasional torn article of clothing or dainty undergarment lay on the floor.  Mr. Smith and Kaitlyn stood at the swinging door to the kitchen, each enjoying another drink as they laughed together and recounted the more memorable points of the evening.

Things had most definitely gone well for Kaitlyn and she was in a good mood.  The glass vase was stuffed with money and someone had even dropped a pair of giant diamond earrings in it.   "You want sum' help cleaning up?" Kaitlyn offered, the alcohol slurring her words. 

"Nah, I've got folks to help me out."  Mr. Smith took a sip from his highball glass and stared at her.  "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yeah, whatevah."  The witch rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink.

"How come you're so small?"

Kaitlyn laughed incredulously, coughing as the beverage went down the wrong pipe.  "What??"

"No, really" he continued.  "You've got this wonderful gift.  You could shape yourself any way you wanted but you go around town like you're a delegate from the Itty Bitty Titty Committee."  

She stared up at Mr. Smith, mouth agape.  This line of questioning was a little more personal than she had expected and she did not like it.  Nope, she didn't like it one bit.

"I mean, you got a nice butt, and all, but what's up with the no-boobs thing?"

In an instant, Kaitlyn's demeanor switched from jovial to offended and she looked up at her benefactor from under a furrowed brow.  "You mean like this?"  Immediately, her green tube top swelled outward as if two of the large party balloons were blowing up beneath.

"Yeah!  Just like that!"  He smiled as he stared down at Kaitlyn's new balloony cleavage bouncing over her bare midriff.  "It looks good on you."

"Tell you what" she snapped.  "If you like big boobs so much, why don't you give 'em try?"  She lifted her hand and casually tossed a sparkly cloud at his chest.  Drink in hand, Mr. Smith looked down as it hit his sweater and sank in.

Nothing happened. 

He looked up and stared Kaitlyn the eye, smirked, and then took another sip from his glass.  Kaitlyn was shocked.  Her magic had never failed her.  Quickly, she gathered her wits and then thrust her free hand out.  Intending to blow him up like a blimp, she let fly a bolt of green lightning from out of her index finger.  Mr. Smith didn't flinch as he absorbed the blow.

Again, nothing happened.

Kaitlyn held her hand up, looked at it, and then shook it as if to trying to unjam it.  "What the fuck?"

"Now, why'd you go and do that?"  Asked Mr. Smith, smirking.  He took another sip from his drink and then calmly pulled a small black box from out of his pocket and pointed it at her.  There were many buttons on it, making it resemble a television remote control. He pressed one of them and several lights on it blinked.

Kaitlyn gasped as an invisible force seemed to envelop her. 

"Besides, I'm way ahead of you."

Her back went stiff as her arms straightened downward at her sides, making her drop her glass.  Her bouncing balloon tits jutted out proudly in her tube top.  The room seemed to swirl and she felt a warm dizziness.  Then, everything around her seemed to be getting taller, including Mr. Smith and with a shock she realized she was shrinking.  Her legs and feet were pressed together as were her arms to her sides.  She couldn't move.  In moments, she was only three feet tall, staring at the man's legs. 

A loud hiss rose from inside her belly as her entire upper body swelled with gas.  Her arms seemed to melt into her sides and her legs melded together.  Her chest and shoulders then began to expand, rounding out as her back also surged.  She could feel her head and neck inflate before starting to merge with her chest.  From her feet upwards, she began to resemble an upside down teardrop and with a panic, Kaitlyn realized she was being turned into a party balloon.  The more she struggled to try to use her magic power, the greater the invisible force seemed to grip her.  She began to feel light and airy.  Arms, legs, and head had merged into one shiny, squeaky surface.  Her clothing and features were mere lines on a shiny rubber surface that inflated rounder and rounder.  Her feet transformed into an inflation valve and she began to float up.

Mr. Smith grabbed the balloon woman by her feet-turned-valve as she floated past and turned her around so she could see him.  Kaitlyn was now a little over three feet around.  Livid, she glared at him, unable to yell.  He poked her on the nose and her balloon body bounced back forth.  "Think of it like Rock-Paper-Scissors" he continued.  "Science always beats magic."

He pulled pulled her over to a table, tied a piece of the pre-cut string around her valve feet, and then to the back of a chair.  "I'll be right back" he said with a smile as he stumbled off to the kitchen.  Mr. Smith returned a few minutes later with Kaitlyn's purse and blazer as well as woman that hadn't been at the party.  As she bobbled around, Kaitlyn could only get a few glimpses of her.  She was tall, shapely, and dressed very professionally.  Mr. Smith addressed her in a suddenly sober voice as he handed the woman the tip jar, purse, and jacket.

"Please make sure the little lady makes it home safely, willya hun?"  he instructed.

"Yes, Mr. Smith" the woman replied.

He then untied the angry Kaitlyn balloon and spoke to her. "Oh, get over it.  You'll be fine in the morning."  He handed the string to the assistant.  "If we're going to work together, Witchy-poo, you'll need to lose the attitude."

Average: 4.5 (14 votes)
is there a prequl?

is there a prequl?

Too many tags / inflation types?

Was not sure if this was a clothing / suit inflation or body. Turns out it was body.

Had to read a lot to find out it was not my type of story.

Maybe calm yer tags next time, mate? ;)


Hi my name is Tom. I run the inflatable chicks yahoo group