Control 4: Dreaming

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Control 4: Dreaming

Michael’s mind drifted as he closed his eyes.

The memory that lingered was one that he had dwelt on many times. At the time that the memory had been created, his interest had been piqued by the chance to see an old flame. He hadn’t seen Suzie since they were teenagers. Now that he had graduated medical school and had start his surgical practice, her possibly coming back into his life was a pleasant surprise. Those old-school feelings of his first girl-crush bubbled up when she had somehow found his phone number and called him. That had led them to the infamously disastrous dinner date, where Michael had almost lost Suzie again.

The event had ended up being a catalyst to a great relationship. That was what his mind wanted to relive.

They sat across the table from each other, reminiscing about their teenaged love of many years ago, and filling in the blanks to each other as to the direction life had taken them gone since those days of yesteryear. Suzie told him about her schooling in fashion design, which had brought her back to their hometown for this chance meeting, and Michael telling her about medical school and the recent opening of him plastic surgery practice. She joked with him about his teenaged fascination with breasts, and how this new career would let him play with and alter as many of them as he wanted. She reminded him of the day he had taken her to the local fair, when afterwards teenaged Suzie had stuffed helium balloons into her shirt and admitted that she eventually wanted boobs the size of those balloons. They had roll-played with each other, imagining her real breasts blowing up like balloons until they had become so big that the helium inside them had caused her to float, and how Michael had to catch her before she flew away. It was then that his fascination with breasts had added the word ‘inflatable’ to his vernacular, and the obsession had led to the discovery of his ‘special power’.

He could make women’s breasts inflate with the power of his mind, and he used that power as part of his body-sculpting medical practice. Suzie didn’t believe him at first, daring him to make her breasts ‘blow up’ in an effort to expose him as a fraud. But when her chest began to rise and expand, she became an instant believer. Though the demonstration of his power was very convincing, it took a bad turn and went comically, embarrassingly wrong.  It was the single time since his college days that his control of the power had slipped, and Michael watched helplessly as Suzie’s boobs inflated out of control in the middle of the restaurant, bursting out of her blouse as onlookers watched. When they tried to escape, she had blown up so big that her breasts, like twin blimps, had pulled her off the ground and she floated to the ceiling. Later, Michael had succeeded in pulling her down and getting her over to his medical clinic and was able to deflate her back to her original size.
Most girls would have panicked and run from such an event. Suzie laughed it off and stuck around, and now, a year later, they were married and sharing a home.
The memory centered on the conversation they were having during that dinner, just before the inflation started. “Do you ever think about that day, after the fair…”, Suzie had asked.

“When you stuck those balloons under your shirt and pretended that they were your real breasts, and then you made me think I was inflating them?” Michael finished for her.  “You could say that I have thought about that day a little too often.”

“It must have left quite an impression,” Suzie commented coyly.

“You might say the experience influenced me to go down the career path I have chosen,” Michael explained. “You helped me discover a potential within me that since then I have tried to shape into something I can use in my career field.”

“I influenced you,” she queried, chortling. “By putting balloons in my shirt? And because of that, you will be able to turn other women’s boobs into giant beach balls as a plastic surgeon?”

“In a way, yes,” he answered calmly. Michael noticed the couple at the next table looking skeptically over at them, and chose to ignore the probing stares. “But, do you remember what you told me, how you described why your breasts were inflating that day?”

Suzie thought for a moment. “Yes,” she said stoically, “I told you that you had some strange, mystical power that caused women’s breasts to inflate like helium balloons. Why do you ask?”

“Because it came true.”

“What came true?” she repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

Michael lowered his voice. “It is some kind of mental discipline, like telepathy or telekinesis. If I concentrate hard enough, I can make your breasts grow.”

Suzie dropped her napkin. This was not the kind of date she had planned for. “Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I am not impressed.”

Michael leaned a little closer. “Think about it. Breast augmentation without silicon or sutures. The potential money I can make is astounding. I just need the schooling to get the license to do the work.”

Suzie looked away; making sure that the intrusive couple next to them was not hearing this incredible work of fiction. Then she decided to play along. “So, you are telling me that all you have to do is think real hard about a certain woman’s breasts, and they blow up like a pair of balloons.”

“Yes,” he answered, a look of seriousness in his eyes.

She leaned toward him. “Could you inflate me?” Suzie asked softly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “As you can see, I didn’t exactly grow up to match the size of those balloons I stuffed into my shirt that day. I could use the help.”

“What, right here?” he questioned. “Right now?”

“Why not?” Suzie countered, wanting to see just how far his charade would go. “Or doesn’t your secret power work in public places?”

Michael hesitated. “If that is what it would take for you to believe me, I’ll do it.”

Suzie’s taunting grin spread even wider. “Go ahead, make my day.”

It was at this point, though, that the true memory ended, and the nightmare began.

Michael began concentrating, willing his power into action. Suzie gasped, feeling her breasts expand inside her shirt, just as he had predicted. But they were blowing up much faster this time. “Whoa, slow it down, Mister Goodyear. You’ve convinced me. Now make it stop before my blimps bust out of my blouse,” she demanded, discreetly.

Too late, her top button snapped and went flying across the dining room. “I said ‘make it stop’!” she said more loudly. Several people around them turned to look as the next set of straining buttons popped in succession, breast flesh pushing through the widening gap and up under her chin. Michael, still in his self-induced trance, was oblivious to what she was saying. And neither one of them heard the startled gasps and expressions of surprise as the range of his power began to widen and spread to neighboring tables.

Starting with the couples sitting closest to them, every woman in the room started to inflate. By this time, Suzie’s bra clasps had given up the fight and had exploded across the table into Michael’s face. Her shirt hung in tatters as her breasts began to float upward, obscuring her vision. “Hey, Doctor Frankenstein, wake up!” she yelled, flinging a spoon at him, striking the dazed man in the forehead and breaking his concentration. “Look what you’ve done to me!” she screamed. “And look around and see what the lack of control of you power has done to everyone else.”

Michael, feeling like he was just waking from a dream, could do nothing but watch as Suzie expanded more. His body felt like lead, heavy and unmovable as he tried in vain to reach for her as she floated out of her seat, dragged skyward by her boob balloons. Then he looked to her left and saw that several other women were experiencing the same effect, with their breasts inflating under their fancy formal gowns and cocktail dresses. The air was filled with the sound of the steady hissing of inflating balloons and ripping fabric, while the men sat immobile, helplessly watching their women floating upward toward the high ceiling and away from them. The women screamed and kicked their startled rage as they slowly ascended, while Michael could only watch in stunned horror at the spectacle he created. They bumped into each other, bouncing in all directions as the women settled among the florescent ceiling lights with a sound not unlike a clutch of balloons fighting for space at the end of a single tether.

Suzie, though, had not risen to the heights like the others. She seemed to be suspended in the air, half-way between the floor and the ceiling, slowly rotating like a balloon on a string. Her helium tits pointing straight up, she had to turn her head sideways in order to face him. “Michael!” she called to him “Babe!

He looked up at her. “When it is convenient, would you mind getting yourself under control and deflating all of us?!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure we would all like to be on the ground in the next day or two!”

Michael’s eyelids became heavy, his reaction slow. “But I can’t,” he mumbled. “I don’t have control of my power.”

Suzie glared, the other women begging for help above her. “Listen, mister. You have better wake up right now and get control of yourself, and get us down!”

Instead, Michael closed his eyes, and slumping, laid his head on the table. “Maybe later,” he said, his speech slurring. “I’m too tired right now.”

Angrily, Suzie flailed her arms and legs in the air. “Babe!” she screamed, trying to keep his attention. “Wake up!”


Wake up…

Wake up…

Michael sat up with a gasp. He was back in his bedroom at home, the afternoon sun streaming in through the window in the far wall. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs of sleep from it, and dwelled on the imagery of the bazaar dream he had just awakened from. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and he and Suzie had laid down for a short nap less than an hour before. He turned and noticed that Suzie was no longer in bed with him. He stretched and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before rising from the bed, going to look for his wife.

That was when he bumped his head into a pair of dangling feet.

His eyes followed the feet up the long legs to where they met at a pair of black lace panties that covered a shapely, recognizable ass. Gazing up further, he could see two arms protruding from either side of two massive domes of tit flesh that were topped by overstretched nipples that were brushing the bedroom ceiling. Suzie’s face was hidden behind her helium-filled mounds, but he could hear her voice just fine.

Exasperated, she spoke with a forced calm between clenched teeth. “When it is convenient, would you mind getting yourself under control and deflating me?” she said, hands grasping the rounded sides of her weather balloon-sized breasts. “This is getting a little old. This is the second time this week, and the fourth time in a month that I have woken up being tits-up on the ceiling.”

Flushing, he rasped “I’m am SO sorry!” as he grabbed her ankles and tried to pull her down. Suzie was too buoyant, pinned to the ceiling by her flesh balloons, his weight unable to pull her from the height. “Give me a minute,” he mumbled, settling to the side of the bed, and, concentrating, issued a mental command.

There was an audible release of pressure, like a tire loosing air, and Suzie slowly began to shrink and descend. When she was able to touch the carpeted floor, she maneuvered herself over next to her husband, her still slightly inflated boobs bobbing up and down as she moved. She put a reassuring hand on his, placing the other arm across the top of her bloated tits and pushing them down so she could talk without the floating obstructions in her way. “You were dreaming about our first time again, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Michael answered, abashed.

“Then you need to extent your control into your dreams, apparently,” she sighed. “Every time you dream about that, I end up waking up and finding myself floating under a pair of skin blimps. Honestly, my nipples are sore from rubbing the ceiling tiles!”

Michael hung his head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” he said, humbled.

Suzie snuggled up close to him. “I’ll tell you what. You can blow me up again later. I love the feel of these helium hooters getting bigger and bigger, but I prefer to be awake for it.” She leaned in and whispered seductively in his ear. “And maybe we can figure out how you can ride your balloon girl and have a little floating fun…”

That sent a tremble of excitement through him. Michael had always wanted to try sex in zero gravity, and that would be the closest to it. “Deal,” he whispered back, placing a hand on an inflated mammary and gently squeezing.

Author's Note: 

You might want to read the other "Control" series stories before reading this one...enjoy!

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airtankgirl5's picture
Strange that

I have a huge sense of deja vu reading this.  Was this released somewhere else before here?


Just over at Deviantart. It

Just over at Deviantart. It is brand new, but just another follow-up to my original story Control.


I just thoought about it, and realized you might be thinking of my other story, call "The Dream". Written a few years ago, the woman is the one that is dreaming, and she dreams of her own floating breast inflation, and wakes up un the ceiling.

Is that what you were perhaps thinking of when you had your deja vu?