Ski Lodge, The part 2

Date Written: 
08/01/2013

As Brett approached the door to the party room, he briefly wondered about his stay here. The girls here were sexy (and friendly, a novel experience to Brett and to most of the men here) while the food (and beer!) was both free and plentiful. Again, he wondered about the brochure: "Eat and drink all you want while skiing! Lose weight fast!" He wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that. When he and the others had got there, the gals had confiscated all their clothing and dressed them in these rubber suits, claiming that it would be easier to notice any changes without any form-hiding clothing.

"Relax," the sexy gal bodybuilder had said. "With the plan we have here and the special formula we have in the food here, you'll notice changes within a couple days."

Looking over at the guys eating and drinking caused him to look down at his own somewhat massive girth. Running his hands over it, he imagined the girls taking their turns with him when he heard a shocking loud explosion in the distance. "Oh, it's those charges the girls said they were going to set off," he said to himself. Sure enough, he saw them a few minutes later, broad smiles on their faces, their cheeks surprisingly flushed; he wrote it off to the chilly temperatures.

An even six feet tall and clad in a sleeveless white shirt, Cora was all about good muscles combined with sexy curves, firm D-cup breasts rose high on her chest while round hips strained at the seams of her spandex jeans. Her partner, Tiffany, wore her slim and toned curves well, a hot pink tube top showing off her own round firm breasts while sky-blue tights showed off her toned legs and ass. Cora sashayed up to Brett and, smiling invitingly, she slowly ran her fingertip over his belly, causing him to involuntarily groan. With the other men looking on, she slowly ran her fingers in shrinking circles until they reached his belly, her lips parted and her tongue running over her lips. With a wink, she walked away, her jeans-clad hips swaying.

"Ben," said Stan, "can you possibly imagine how feeding us will cause us to lose weight?"

"I'm trying to think of a reason," replied Ben, "but nothing's coming to mind quickly. Excuse me miss..." he asked.

"Please, call me Tiffany," replied Tiffany.

"Exactly how are you going to cause us to lose weight by feeding us high-calorie food? I mean, I'm not really complaining, but it does seem to be counterproductive...and to be brutally honest, your friend's behavior among us is rather giving me pause."

"Oh don't worry, sweety," said Tiffany. "My formula is predicated on the fact that the more calories you consume, the more calories you'll burn. It's a two-stage serum, so the first part is to get you to gain weight. You have to reach a particular size for the 2nd stage to work. Trust me, when you reach the weight goal we set for you, you'll understand.

"I was about to question that mys—OH!" Ben cried as he felt a sudden strain at his suit (not below his waist—that took place a long time ago upon seeing the girls). Placing both hands on his belly, he felt the suit tighten up all over, loose seams and wrinkles quickly disappearing. Looking up from his own transformation, he saw the same change start to take place with Stan. His belly suddenly swelling upwards and outwards, it took on the appearance of an over-large beer gut that also filled out his limbs. Looking around, he saw the same thing happening to the other men in the room, their bellies and limbs (but mostly their bellies) firmly fattening up without sag or wrinkle.

"Ooh, it's finally happening," squealed Cora. "The first stage is taking effect!"

"Say WHAT!?" said the men in unison.

"The first stage is finally taking effect! This is supposed to happen, guys! The heavier you weigh and more mass you accumulate, the greater will be your caloric burn. Don't worry, this is Tiffany's formula; she's got it all figured out. By this time tomorrow, being fat will be the furthest thing on your mind." Looking down at Stan, she murmured, "and I guess I'd better have some fun before we administer stage two."

Climbing atop Stan's belly, she slowly ground her ass into his tightening rubber-clad gut, her fingers exploring the vast surface of the belly-orb. Moaning aloud, she slowly slid downwards towards his face while Tiffany started to run her tongue all over his belly. As the other men started groaning themselves and grunting their mass approval, Cora slid down further and further until her ass rested lightly on Stan's unresisting face as Tiffany quietly straddled his crotch for a few seconds, then both girls slid off. Going over to a closet, Tiffany hauled out a new keg of beer, crying out as she did so, "Time for stage two, fellas. Drink up!"

The men didn't need any more encouragement. Ignoring the protests of the suits and bellies alike, they attacked the ten-gallon keg voraciously.

"It's getting late guys, so we're going to bed. See you in the morning," said Tiffany as Cora blew them a kiss, the ladies' hands traveling and wandering all over the increasing taut forms.

That night, Tom and Stan disappeared, unnoticed by the rest of the guys.

 

The next day

 

Cora and Tiffany had set out breakfast for the men: bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, all food the gals told them they needed to start their weight-loss regimen. "It's quite simple," Tiffany told them. "The more calories you'll take in, the more calories you'll eventually burn."

And how, Cora thought.

Circulating among the men, the two ladies went out of their way to make sure the men ate their fill...and then some. "Go ahead, stuff yourselves, it's the main key to the program...yes, eat up, you might not be eating again for the rest of the day," they said as they ran searching fingers and nails over bellies that were rapidly getting tighter and tighter, bigger and bigger. "When you're done, please be so kind as to put on the skis we left out for you and head over to the beginner's hill."

As the men continued eating, the two ladies continued running their hands over those increasing swollen bellies. Moaning just a little bit, Cora gave in and took out some paint; she started painting alternating red and-white concentric circles on their bellies, licking them and running her nails over them.

"Um, not that we don't appreciate it, but what's that for?" one guy asked.

"Oh, that's just a gentle reminder of what's coming. Y'know, our special weight-loss program that helps you burn calories..." said Cora just a teeny bit breathlessly.

"Yeah?"

"It's a reminder that we re gonna target your belly fat."

"Oh. Okay then, paint away," said Brett, thrusting his belly out and making it bigger at the same time.

An hour later, fifteen rather stuffed men started rather clumsily skiing and tramping towards said hill, their bloated and stuffed bodies gleaming in the bright sunlight. As they commented to one another about the absence of any feelings of coldness, they came upon Tiffany in her bright red snowsuit on her snowmobile. "All right then," chirped Tiffany, "we don't want to risk any premature injuries, so if you'll all start heading down in your proper intervals, we'll start the cross-country leg of this regimen."

"Excuse me, ma'am," said Drew. "You wouldn't terribly mind if I finish off some of last night's beer from the party, mmm?"

Tiffany thought it over. "Promise you'll show up? You do? Fine, finish drinking the evid—er, beer, then come along as best you can."

Just over the hill and out of sight of the others, Cora spied the long line of swollen men headed towards her and ran her hands over the bloated figure of the man next to her, now himself overblown into immobility. "Now aren't you glad I got you up this morning before all the others woke? I have such a lovely surprise for you...oh look, more of your friends are about to join in. Now then, as you've been curious about how you're going to burn off all these calories, don't you worry your little mind," she cooed as she gently put the gag in his mouth, mounting her own snowmobile and driving to her vantage point. "I'd stay and chat, but there's another friend of yours I have to attend to...he's feeling kinda gassy right about now and stuck in a cleft stick of his own making."

As the line of swollen men made their way to the rendezvous point, they all commented on how much gassier they were feeling, of the way their suits were starting to feel rather tight.

"Urp...uh, guys, I don't think it's exactly gas we're feeling now."

"How's (oof) that?""I think we're actually increasing in size...well, at least I think I am, my belly's practically getting bigger right before my eyes...""Nonsense, it's physically impossible for the human body to put on dozens of pounds in a single night!" said Ben, rather self-importantly. "What we're all feeling is gas."

"Uh, I don't think so. I feel like I'm getting heavier without it slowing me down, as if it's imparting some new type of energy to me...feeling kinda warm, too."

"Hello boys," chirped the girls over the radio headsets they gave the men. "We've been tracking you via GPS chips we've planted in your suits. Whatever else, we just can't afford for you to get lost. We figure you're about to crest the hill, so we're here to explain what you're about to see." As the men crested the hill, they all stopped in their tracks. One man spoke for all of them as gazed upon the bizarre sight: "Well I'll be..." he said as his sentence trailed off.

Some two hundred yards before them was Stan, one of their number from this morning the girls invited out earlier. A chubby weighing in at 300 pounds upon arrival, his gut had now horribly grown to a massive orb some seven feet across—firm, not flabby, rather like a pneumatically inflated man, his limbs now grown into. A white bulls-eye was painted across his giant middle as he gazed upon them, a beatific smile on his features.

"Look how big he's become, gentlemen! No unsightly droopy, saggy flesh, nosirree!" the gals sang out over their headsets. "But hold on, Stan's still a bit...massy. We'll take care of that right now. Careful now, don't get too close."

From at the ski lodge, Cora carefully sighted through the scope of the experimental gyro pistol, centering on Stan's helplessly protruding belly. "Good-bye, Stan," she cooed over the radio as she fired, sending out a two-foot long jet of flame towards the target some six hundred meters away.

For his part, Stan was far too happy to care. Already bloated and grown dangerously close to critical mass, he was basking in the relative warmth of the 'Boom' serum when Cora bid him adieu. He didn't care at all, at all. Feeling his body strain at the suit, stretching it dangerously tight, filled with energy and warmth was quite enough for Stan. And that's why he didn't bother noticing the tiny jet missile whooshing into the bloated bomb his body had turned into.

If Stan was unaware, his friends weren't. Their eyes tracked the tiny missile into Stan's orb of a body...and the next instant, they were all struggling to avoid falling into the snow as Stan made his Grand Exit with a massive "KA-WHAM!," the shock-wave of his passing washing over them.

"You see boys," the girls hooted over their radios, “told you we'd target your belly fat!" Of all the men, Ben was the first to respond. "Quickly, to that abandoned railway tunnel! It has to lead somewhere!" Quick as they could, all the men (for a given definition of 'men,' if they could still be called that) half waddled, half skied to the tunnel, painfully aware of the tracks they made. All, save two man-bombs that tried to evade their cruel fate. Mitch tried to creep away and hide while Frank thought he saw an abandoned snowmobile the girls in their negligence forgot.

"Woo-hoo!" the gals cried out in unison. Cora turned to Tiffany. "Did the cameras in the missile's nose cone record that?"

"Yeppers, we can watch it over and over again, even in slo-mo! Now, did you all catch that, because ready or not, here we come!" Switching the radio off, Tiff looked over to Cora. "They're almost all running and headed toward that abandoned train tunnel, just like you said they would. I only counted twelve..."

"I have them all on the GPS units I built into their sweet black suits, right on their bellies. There's one hiding near those bushes, another's heading for the snowmobile I 'left' there, there's that other guy in the lodge..." Cora grinned. "And then there's the surprise and a friend of theirs I left for them at the end of the tunnel. Let's head over to those bushes."

About a hundred feet into the tunnel, Ben and the others trod on, painfully aware of the fact that the more they moved, the greater became their swollen state as ominous hissing sounds started to emanate from their bodies, the fat slowly being converted into gas. As more fat got converted into gas, the more sausage-like became their appendages and massive their respective girths, until the entire party was wheezing, grunting and groaning along an ever narrower tunnel...until they met an obstacle and stopped.

"What is it?" "What could it be?" "Dunno, but it feels soft and ...warm?"

"Ben, you're always prepared, come up here with that flashlight on a keychain and see what it is." Ben, with much difficulty, shined his light on what lay in front. For the second time that day, they were struck speechless as before the men was a giant angry red-colored orb, pulsating before them. As they touched it, it felt rather satiny under their fingers. Suddenly they shone the light around at the sound of a murmur. Small appendages greeting their eyes, they shone the light upwards and realized: "My gawd, it's one of us. They've somehow inflated one of us and he's blocking the exit to this tunnel! Maybe if we somehow pop him..."

They forgot about the girls, but the girls were still tracking them.

"Hey fellas, I bet you've finally found Tommy-boy! Poor guy, he's not feeling to well right now—we gave him the same stuff we gave your friend yesterday—it was a gas. Oh, please don't pop him, you won't like what happens next."

Perched on a hill overlooking the tunnel outside, the girls chuckled to themselves. Cora said, "Looks like they found their missing friend."

"Whadja do to him?"

"Took him to the exit point and force-fed him some 'beer.' He swelled up just right so that his belly entered the exit and now he's wedged in there with only his head sticking outside," said Cora as she eyed some of the surrounding bushes where a pair of tracks led. "Now if only some brave man would try to overpower me and maybe rescue his buddies," Cora said rather theatrically as she rolled her eyes.

Billy was awash in equal parts of rage and fear, but charged her nonetheless. "You heartless bitches," he screamed, trying to ignore the horrible strom brewing his belly as he ran/waddled towards them, "you may have turned me into a bomb but I'm gonna take you with me!"

"As if," Cora said as she waited for Billy to get closer, then reached out and grabbed his wrist, bending it back just so and halting his advance. Swiftly grabbing the other hand, she produced some steel wire and bounds his hands behind his back, causing his massive gut to jut out (and turning on Tiffany to no end). Overcome with passion, the two women soon ran their hands and nails over Billy's protesting girth, planting kisses on it as they remarked on his size.

Back in the tunnel, Ben tried to ignore his still bloating belly and take charge. He said, "It's no use fellas, we can't explode Tom here (oof!) without detonating ourselves in the bargain. Out only hope (ugh!) is to somehow turn ourselves around and get out of this tunnel."

Too bad for them Cora and Tiffany were still listening in, even if they weren't transmitting.

Cora chirped, "Hey Tiffany, sound slike the 2nd stage of that serum is taking effect!"

"Yeah," said Tiffany, "They should be bloating out just perfectly now. Okay, my sweet Billy-Bomb, time you met your friends and your final destiny," cooed Tiffany. "Cora, will you do the honors?"

"My pleasure," said Cora. Turning Billy around, she steered him and aimed him straight towards the tunnel. Working her powerful bodybuilder legs, she gradually started pushing him down the hill as he built up speed and then let go.

"Bombs away!"

Down in the tunnel, Ben had (somehow) turned himself around and was leading the group toward the exit when he spied the massive black shiny orb that was now Billy's massive explosive gut sliding downhill straight at them.

"Holy shit! They've tossed Billy at us! If he hits, we're all goners! Quickly, everyone, faster!"

Well, they tried, but trying to move quickly when every move you make bloats you up a little more with every gesture isn't easy. True to their fearless leader's command, all the men tried to move forward faster, pneumatic bellies scraping against the sides of the tunnel...

And then Ben got stuck. Moving his own unstable bloated form forward, he could see Billy picking up more speed as he careened towards them. Ben was nearing the exit when his own form got wedged at just the wrong time, his sides trying to expand, wedging him in there tighter and tighter as his own belly kept jutting forth. Trying to escape, Ben had just enough time to see Billy's screaming form enter the cave entrance. He closed his eyes...

"Ben," a guy shouted, "what's happening!?"

In a resigned voice, Ben replied, "It looks like the ladies have punched our ticket for the afterlife."

Still accelerating and horribly bloated, his limbs unable to do more than wiggle as his explosive gut jutted out, Billy screamed, "Can't stop can't stop can't stop AUUUUGGGHHHHHH..."

and then he struck.

The two men stared at each other briefly, then opened their eyes wide in mutual shock as a brief sensation of further pressure, growth, and heat came, filling them from toe to head. A horrible popping and ringing sound struck their ears for a brief second, an instant of a moment of intense pressure...and then every ounce of fat in their bodies was suddenly and decisively liberated as Ben and Billy both disappeared in a mutual ball of fire, the equivalent of some 1800 pounds of nitroglycerin detonating in a confined space.

This really didn't help the poor fellows pressing up in a line two feet away. The white-hot sphere that used to be Ben and Billy enveloped the rest of the men, instantly converting several thousand pounds of explosively unstable body fat to energy...

which was a real shame for poor Tom at the rear of the tunnel as the still expanding ball of gas and fire that used to be his buddies, raced towards his own horribly bloated explosive form.

Far away from the caves at the top of the hill, Tiffany and Cora knew nothing about the drama going on inside. Watching intently, they heard Billy's scream of raw hatred as he careened downhill into the tunnel. Cora reached a protective arm around Tiffany's waist as the two shared a look.

There was a rumbling sound...

The ground shook...

And the two lesbians kissed passionately in a red-golden glow as a goodly chunk of the mountain disappeared skyward in a perfect volcaninc cloud, the raging fireball carrying the remnant essences of the men upwards as the ladies' cameras recording their passing.

Watching from his vantage point, Frank slowly started up his snowmobile. Whimpering under his breath, he had barely been able to trundle his 800 pound bulk atop his machine. Maybe if I slink away, I'll get out of this.

The women startled as they heard the telltale sounds of an engine. "Shall we?" they asked each other. Mounting their own snowmobiles, they took off in pursuit, their ski suits tightly hugging their bodies.

 

At the lodge, Drew had been barely able to squeeze his ever fattening frame through the door when the sound of the mass exit of his friends made him pause as he stuffed his face.

"Soooo bloated...am I getting bigger?...Is that a hissing sound coming from my gut? That explosaion, that's far too loud and close to be a normal charge. If...only...I can...turn...around." Squeezing himself sideways, he noticed a gun (a spare gun the girls made) with a strange sight on it and a computer screen. Barely able to move and trying to ignore the growing heat coming from his massively swollen form, he picked up the gun and discovered the view on the screen change. Moving the gun changed the view on the screen.

"Holy crap, the gun's transmitting what it targets to the computer and saving it...they're making a movie?" He reached over and pressed Play with bloated fingers...

 

Frank accelerated as fast as he safely could, his enormous gut practically pushing its way over the controls. Massively swollen, he was almost on top of them, his great belly jutting forth far past where his hands could reach and dangerously overbalancing his machine as he tried to ignore the ominous rumbling from his belly. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the two women on the machines rapidly gaining on him.

Engine roaring, Tiffany came up to Frank's left side while Cora flanked his right. Catching Frank's eye, she drew a little ahead of him and blew a kiss as she wriggled her ass at him at the same time. Distracted as he was, Frank utterly failed to notice Tiffany until she was practically on top of him. Admiring the swell of his belly for a moment, she shook her head briefly and said, "What a waist," and planted a last kiss on it, then pulled out her little surprise for him and lit it. Patting his belly, she smiled sweetly at him. Looking at her with shocked eyes, Frank was completely helpless as she drove in front of him briefly and pushed the sharp end of a lit sparkler into the center of his belly, dead center. Blowing her own kiss at him and patting her butt, she sped off immediately followed by Cora.

Great gawd a'mighty, they've turned me into a bomb, complete with fuse! Hell's bells, I even look the part in this suit! Frank thought frantically. Gritting his teeth, he decided to take these two girls with him. Pouring on all speed, he accelerated as best he could.

"Hey Frank, do you honestly think you're going to catch up to us with the weight of three or four people on that snowmobile of yours? Take a good look at our asses, it's the last thing you're ever gonna see before your one-way trip to the afterlife!" Tiffany sang out. With that, the two girls sped up considerably.

Racing on, Frank figured they'd head back to the lodge, so he poured it on, knowing that he was in a race against time. Speeding on, he saw them slow rapidly for a moment, travel single file for a moment and then spread out again. Gaining ground temporarily, Frank thought he was finally going to catch up with them, take them with him...

and then he saw the fence. Barely a meter wide, the girls had fit easily through it, knowing that he could not. Braking hard, Frank shut his eyes as he slowed, knowing that if his belly hit the fence posts, there'd be nothing but a crater to note his passing. Sixty feet, forty feet, twenty feet, he came closer...and stopped, just inches short. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he started to back up as best he could...

"Hey, Frank! Do you know you only have a couple inches of fuse left?"

"Say WHAT?" screamed Frank. Looking over, he saw the end of the fence line some two hundred feet off. Turning quickly, he accelerated as best he could, trying to reach the girls, just praying to take them with him. Turning the corner he gunned it for all he could straight towards them, only to hear the engine cough, sputter and die on him.

"Aw, poor baby, it looks like you've run out of gas," said Cora over the radio as the two ladies drove a safe distance off to watch as Tiffany continued to record the scene.

"NO!" he cried loudly, "You've gotta take it outta me! Please, for mercy's sake, I'm too big to reach it..." Feeling the warmth approaching his navel, he looked straight at the two grinning women and thrust his belly outwards, a silent plea for mercy. Waving his vestigial arms, he tried helplessly to reach the fuse, knowing they were too short to reach over the maasive girth of bomb his belly had been turned into, transformed, mammoth energy about to be converted and released even as he felt the heat from the fuse reach him. His last act was to scream his outrage to the heavens as a white-hot needle of pain reached into his belly.

"And now you've run out of time," said Cora, watching the fireball carry what used to be Frank to the heavens. As she started to rev up, her own machine died.

"Crap. Tiff, drop me off near the garage so I can get my bike."

 

From his vantage point at the top of the hill, Drew just got done watching the movie of Stan's demise when the sound of Frank's passing washed over the house. "Gawd above, they've turned us all into human bombs! All this fat...this gas...ohhh...I can hardly move...I've become a human bomb, a big fat human belly bomb! I'm gonna expl-," he cut himself off when he remembered the gun.

"Or not."

 

Driving back to the lodge on her snowmobile from dropping off Cora, Tiffany was in fine fettle when the first WHOOSH! Came out of the lodge and exploded behind her. Spying Drew with the gun, she kicked her machine up into high gear and poured on the speed. Playing for time, she bluffed over the radio, "Well, Drew, I guess you've found out what your final fate's going to be!"

"You murderous bitches, you've killed them all!"

"Not really. If anything, they killed themselves, given the road they chose to take. Cora and I simply gave them all a gentle push over. Ask nicely and we'll help you along as well."

"Arrrgh!" That was quite enough for Drew. Unable to turn and directly sight on Tiffany, he could only point the gun to the side and aim through the image on the computer. Flicking the button on the side of the pistol, he picked "seeking mode" and fired. Weaving from side to side, Tiffany was barely able to dodge that missile, its overhead passage warming her face for a moment and eliciting a scream from her.

Drew laughed over the radio, "Hey, Tiffany! You really gotta check out the scope on this gun, the optics are really something! For example, I'm using the buttons on this gun to zoom in and check out your ass...guess maybe it's your turn to say good-bye, bitch!"

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Tiffany gunned her engine as another loud WHOOSH shot out of the lodge, turning and heading straight for her. Hoping against hope, Tiffany raced for the cover of a nearby tree...

WHAM! The nearby explosion as it struck the tree knocked her off the snowmobile. Looking up at the lodge, Tiffany felt icy fingers of fear go down her spine...

and then turn to relief as a might roar announced Cora's arrival. "Tiff, what's going on?"

"It's Drew, he's onto us and trying to kill us with the backup gun!" Drawing her own gun, Cora aimed at the lodge and pulled the trigger. "Nothing. He must have hit the override button! Stay down!"

"You stay down, Cora! This thing tracks on heat signatures like your cycle!"

"Oh, really? Given how near critical mass he was when we left him, how much heat do you think he's giving off? Don't worry, I have a plan."

With that, she gunned her cycle for all it was worth and raced for the lodge. Racing around, she appeared in what she hoped was plain sight and started taunting Drew.

"Hey there, my big, bloated bomb-boy! Thought I'd come back and give you some personal attention, seeing's how you missed out on all the previous action."

"Stop it!"

"Your friends, you know, they went big—just like the most awesome fireworks in the world..."

"STOP!"

"But you, I can tell, you're so biiiig, I'm surprised the floor is still holding you up, giant black shiny sphere that you are."

Driven past reason, Drew fired at Cora yelling, "Here's hoping it goes up your ass, bitch!"

Gunning her cycle in a circle, Cora led the missile on a chase, hoping the motor wouldn't have the ability to out-maneuver her. Looking over her shoulder as she raced on and knowing that Drew was watching her through the camera in each missile's nose, she patted her ass at the missile and drove on, spiky tires crunching through packed snow.

Inside, Drew exulted as he watched the computer screen. Watching Cora's ass get larger and larger in the screen, he blew her a kiss over the radio and cried out, "Time you got your special air mail!"

You dream, thought Cora. At what she hoped was the right moment, she wheeled her cycle hard over, both her and her machine skidding on ice and snow just as the missile passed overhead. Righting her cycle as quickly as she could, she sped off, sending Drew a last taunt:

"Hey, Drew, does the expression 'Return to Sender' ring a bell with you?"

Inside the lodge, Drew saw the missile pass over Cora and cursed in frustration, then cut himself off as the image on the screen resolved itself into a massive shiny black orb with sausage-like limbs and a target painted its belly...a target that was quickly getting bigger and bigger--

"SHIIIIT!" he screamed as he mashed the 'abort' button on the gun, closing his eyes as he did so, feeling the missile plow into his explosive belly...and stop. Letting out a breath, Drew could feel the weapon of doom inside him, completely inaccessible. Smiling, he raised his gun...

Cora, noting the same such button on her gun lit up, raced over to Tiffany. "Hop on and let's go! The failsafe on that is about to let go!"

"Failsafe?" asked Tiffany as she got on.

"Failsafe as in no unexploded weapons left lying around!"

Trying to sight the two, Drew suddenly became aware of a strange beeping coming from inside him. Listening carefully, he heard the beeping noise suddenly get louder and faster in pitch and volume. Suddenly aware of what was about to happen, he screamed aloud, not knowing the radio was still on. Hearing both the beeping and Drew's screams over the radio, Tiffany chimed in, "Hey, Drew, don't feel so bad. Your explosion is the only one we won't be able to record and enjoy over and over."

Hearing the pitch reach a crescendo of doom, Drew saw the gals and raised his gyrogun...

and felt himself taken by the briefest and loudest white hot thunderclap ever.

A hundred yards away as they were, Cora and Tiffany were still buffeted by the wind of Drew's final passage. Watching the fireball carry what was Drew into the clear blue sky, Tiffany cursed aloud as Cora raised an inquisitiv

Author's Note: 

Sorry about being so late posting this.  I feel there isn't nearly enough female inflating male stories around here.

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