Tattoo

Keywords:
Inflation Types:
Popping:
Date Written: 
03/07/2008

Joanna made her way down the street toward the tattoo parlour hurriedly, unable to wait for whatever bauble or trinket she desired today. The enormous burden and magnitude of her gargantuan stomach didn’t slow her down at all thanks to the effects of the weightlessness tattoo located on the lower left hand side of her belly, although the size and scale of it certainly disrupted the traffic on the sidewalk, as she made her way through the Saturday morning throngs of shoppers she smashed them aside with the vast bulk of her abdomen. She finally reached the door to the tattoo parlour, gathered herself for a moment, and then began the arduous task of forcing her way in through the door.

Alicia turned as the bell jangled, and rolled her eyes at the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass. She waved her hand in feeble protest as Joanna demolished the entrance to her shop, her titanic belly making short work of the door frame as it squeezed its way ponderously through the small space, closely followed by Joanna.

“So sorry Alicia, I had another idea.”

“I suppose I could fit you in now, it’ll be a while before anyone else ventures in here with the door in that state. You know where to go.”

Joanna made her way through the curtain at the back into the space behind. Slowly she undid the clasps holding the front of her gigantic white shirt closed, and let it slide open, revealing the vast bloated swell of her stomach. She shivered in the slight draught that came from the ram raided doorway to the shop; chuckling to herself at the impromptu piece of DIY she had performed. Turning to the mirrors at the far end of the workshop, she admired the immensity of her curves, the cold white flesh of her midriff looking luminous in the low light of the workshop. She drew herself up, turning this way and that, catching a glimpse of her firm, wide hips and shapely buttocks here, a snatch of her black bra containing her large, pert breasts as they lay snugly encased within. The tiny edge of her black thong stuck over the waistband of her black pants, dipping over her curves. Alicia entered the space, and looked disapprovingly at Joanna’s vain posturing.

“Remember about what I warned you of; don’t get too full of yourself Joanna.”

“Yeah yeah, just admiring YOUR handiwork! Come on, do your stuff.”

Alicia looked resentful for a moment, before dipping into the bag hung from her belt and withdrawing a handful of the mystic black powder. Once again, as always, she knelt in front of Joanna’s flawlessly smooth and ivory white stomach, her eyes just level with the tiny hollow of her belly button, before raising her hand to her lips and blowing hard into the tiny amount of powder in her hand. As the powder touched Joanna’s stomach, it spread in strange spidery patterns all over the surface of her stomach, adhering to it in complex shapes which when finished formed words and phrases. Alicia stood up and stepped back, looking over the surface of Joanna’s stomach with a critical eye. The Olympian abdomen which she gazed upon was covered on literally every single available surface with Alicia’s tiny, neat handwriting, all over her belly the words read out like the wish list of the most demanding of socialites. Here was here modelling contract, there her expensive coat, there, there and some more round there were the expensive shoes she desired, her private plane and the spot on Roberta Carlisle’s talk show. Alicia turned her head this way and that, looking in vain for a spare inch or two to fit another demand on. She found no such space, and promptly informed Joanna of such.

“I beg your pardon?”

“There’s no more space on your stomach.”

“Well then I can make some!”

Joanna drew herself up proudly in front of the tiny tattooist. She puffed out her stomach as big as she could to emphasise its mighty dimensions, when all at once a loud, deep gurgle ran through her distended gut. Joanna didn’t seem to care, though a worried look ran over Alicia’s face

“I doubt it Joanna. You’re already much bigger than you’re supposed to be. Too much more, and it’ll be too much for the enchantments.”

Joanna looked incensed. She slapped her hands to the sides of her belly in defiant anger, wincing slightly as her vast orb of a gut whined loudly in protest of her actions.

“I’ll tell what I can and cannot do! How dare you speak to me like this, you’re just some stupid little witch, waving your arms and doing your silly little spells. I’m Joanna Clarke, and I’m a star, and I’ll tell you what to do, you little maggot, or I’ll crush you like one, do you understand?”

Joanna leaned forward menacingly, allowing her vast bulk to bump Alicia backwards roughly, nearly knocking the poor girl flat.

“Get me a fucking hose, you worm.”

Alicia returned directly with the hose, which she plugged in to a tap over the sink. Joanna barged her aside impatiently, grabbing the hose from her with her thick hands and stuffed it into her mouth. She jammed on the faucet, and arched her back with one hand, holding the hose in her mouth with the other. The tap gave a gurgle of protest before a gush of cool water fed through the hose, flowing into Joanna’s mouth. Joanna swallowed deeply as her mouth filled with water, taking deeper and deeper gulps of the fluid, urging it down into her monstrously distended gut. Her belly began to fill slowly with the fluid; a liquid sloshing sound could be heard from somewhere deep inside of her colossal stomach as the water filled her stomach. Joanna took more and more gulps of the water, her stomach began to grow, slowly but surely her silhouette was increasing. Alicia watched in muted horror as Joanna drank more and more of the water, drinking deep and long on the hose stuck in her mouth. Her stomach had grown several inches by now, the skin beginning to grow less matte as it was stretched by this sudden influx of content. Joanna drank, more and more, willing herself to grow big enough to contain her own demands. She stopped the hand at her back sliding round the front to her bulbous stomach. She rubbed thoughtfully at a single spot on her flank, before her eyes widened and her hand shot to the faucet, scrabbling at it to turn it off. She wrenched the hose from her lips and gasped, dropping it as both hands shot down to her stomach. Her face tilted slowly downwards to study the surface of her grotesque ocean of a stomach, her hands pensively rubbing the sides to help relieve the massive pressure within her. She turned slowly to Alicia, leaning backwards against the counter top, and spoke.

“Can you see a space yet?”

Alicia looked on in stunned silence. How could this be? Joanna stood in all her immense glory, before taking a few strides to the tattooing chair in the centre of the room and collapsing gratefully into it. She stretched out, her hands circulating over the already overstuffed surface of her gravid orb of a gut.

“Why did you stop?”

“I got a pain inside, over on my side.”

Alicia cautiously approached the swollen starlet, all the while her stomach issuing sloshing growling complaints. She laid a cautious ear to the churning ocean of fluid inside her, listening to the bellowing roars of her insides. All of a sudden, the sound built. Joanna screamed in pain, and Alicia jumped back in fright

“What, what is it?!”

“My belly, it hurts!”

Joanna sounded pitiful; her hands couldn’t reach far enough to indicate where the pain was. But she didn’t need to. As Alicia watched, tiny red marks began to creep along the sides of her heaving girth like tiny red slashes.

“You have stretch marks”

Joanna wailed in anger, clutching her belly in anger as the elasticity of her skin reached its limit. The tiny red marks spread across the lower curve of her stomach, and as they went they split apart the words that formed the demands tattooed on Joanna’s massive gut. The words split soundlessly, and as they did they evaporated in tiny puffs of black smoke, leaving nothing more than the white skin and the angry red of her stretch marks as they did so. Her clothes began to puff out of existence with them, the enchantments governing them broken with the disappearing of her demands, leaving Joanna clad in nothing more than the black bra and the increasingly tiny looking black thong, nestling underneath the immense swell of her groaning, sloshing midriff, caught between the writhing tangle of her wide thighs. Slowly the red slashes crept further and further up her shuddering gurgling, sloshing mountain of a gut, before they entirely encircled the tiny hole of her navel. Alicia looked on aghast. Joanna was shaking and sweating in fear as her belly betrayed her, holding on for all her might to the roaring goliath of her own body. She screamed in pain, before in a final heartbeat the skin over the apex of her stomach gave out under the pressure and the stretch marks obliterated the final rule.

“I will never pop.”

Her stomach shook as if an earthquake was happening inside. Joanna clutched at her stomach in fear and agony, screaming out against her own vanity and pride. Alicia covered her face as she awaited the inevitable.

But it never came.

Joanna opened her eyes and looked on in triumph at the gargantuan mass of her own body as it rippled and gurgled loudly to itself, but otherwise, it remained as it was. She shifted her bulk ever so slightly to look at Alicia, her gut groaning ominously in protest.

“Get the powder, I want it all back.”

Alicia looked on in muted horror at the vast distended leviathan that lay churning and gurgling like some prehistoric monster in her tattooist’s chair.

“I’m not sure I want to...”

Joanna went red with rage.

“Since when is it up to you, you miserable little shit. Get that fucking needle going on my belly NOW!”

The words trickled into Alicia’s head and an idea formed. This had gone far further than she had hoped, and as such there was only one way to stop it.

She drew her tattooist’s gun from her apron pocket, and approached the immense form facing her. Joanna’s breath came ragged and laboured from the hideous weight of her own bulk, which was threatening to crush the very life out of her. Deep red marks crisscrossed the surface of the otherwise ivory white dome, the tiny navel atop it seeming insignificant and out of place, lost in the great roaring ocean of red and white around it.

“Do it.”

Joanna arched her back to stick out her belly. The surface trembled and gurgled with its own insane dimensions. It wasn’t possible. And it shouldn’t be possible. Joanna soothed her massive stomach while Alicia prepared the needles, unable to reach even half way around herself. Alicia leant over her; needle poised in one hand, and rubbed the other appreciatively over the surface. It was taught and hard, almost unyielding to the touch. Rather like a balloon. She raised the needle over her head.

Joanna’s eyes widened. Alicia became aware of screaming, but she blocked it out as she brought the needle down sharply, right atop the bloated orb of Joanna’s belly.

The needle sank into the tight flesh of Joanna’s stomach a quarter inch below her navel. Joanna squealed in agony for only a moment, before with a titanic roar she exploded, the immense pressure of her stomach exploding outwards violently, carrying Alicia out through the front of the shop and across the street, hitting the opposite wall with a loud smack, before falling lifeless to the floor. Passersby crowded in to see the source of the explosion which had pretty much gutted the building, finding amidst the large quantities of internal organs and assorted viscera Joanna Clarke, still laying in the tattooists chair elegantly as if posed for a magazine in just her tiny black thong and bra, a look of dignified surprise on her face as she stares down at the gaping crimson crater her exploding stomach left in her body.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later” one observer whispers.

“It’ll be a while before there’s another one what big.”

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