Or, “To the Victor, the Spoiled!”
“I said I wanted LIGHT highlights, bitch!” screamed Barbie at her personal hairdresser, just before she threw a hairbrush into the woman’s face. The hairdresser ran out crying, passing Barbie’s mother, Candy, on the way out. It was easy to see where Barbie got her looks: Candy, at 35, still had her smoking svelte figure, and had little trouble convincing people she was Barbie’s older sister. She still looked good in her skin-tight blue jeans and bulging blouse. Of course, plastic surgery helped in that regard.
Barbie clearly had the same fantastic genes--and jeans. Her sultry blond hair and curvaceous 16-year-old body was the bane of older, potential-statutory-rapists everywhere. Her young pert breasts strained at her halter top, her tight white stretch pants virtually painted on her lower body, from her round sensual butt, all the way down her long, finely sculptured legs. She was young, she was gorgeous, ...and she damn well knew it.
She also knew that her divorced parents were filthy rich, and as they each vied for her affection during their custody battle, she knew they would each indulge her every whim. Neither parent would deny her a thing. And that’s exactly what Barbie deserved, anyway.
Candy sighed at her spoiled daughter. “ANOTHER hairdresser gone, dear? That’s the third one this week.”
“So?” Barbie sneered. “Her family was poor, anyway. Can’t stand poor people. They depress me.” She didn’t even turn away from the mirror for an instant as she continued, “How’s the planning for my party going?”
“Come and have a look, dear,” said Candy. And after several minutes of preening in the mirror, Barbie finally deigned to get up and walk downstairs to the living room.
There was yet another of Barbie’s many personal assistants, Gisselle. She was a tall, leggy woman, who (largely unsuccessfully) disguised her obvious feminine charms with a conservative dress suit and high heels, her hair tied in a ponytail as her big brown eyes were covered by giant, thick glasses, which did nothing to conceal her full, pouty lips and round cheeks. Fortunately, Gisselle intuited that it would not do to dress too provocatively: Barbie was very sensitive to any competition.
She stood in the middle of a large pile of balloons, in front of a table with a punch bowl with tall wine glasses and shiny silverware of real silver. “Where’s the liquor?” Barbie asked.
Gisselle looked to Candy for help, but got none. She cleared her throat nervously and replied, “It’s illegal to buy liquor for the purposes of giving it to minors--”
Barbie snapped at her mother. “Mo-ooommm! I can’t have a party without alcohol! That’s so lame!”
Candy tried to put her arm on Barbie’s shoulder, but it was slapped away. “Look, dear, it’s illegal--”
“I don’t care! I want it! I always get what I want!”
“We’ll see what I can do,” said Candy, giving Gisselle a cold look, as if to say, “You are SO fired for this tomorrow.”
Barbie, still fuming, looked around at the large pile of balloons. There were many types and colors, all beautiful and fully inflated. Barbie lifted her dainty foot and stomped one random balloon out of existence. “Ha!” she laughed cruelly at the balloon fragments, as if she had just stomped on an annoying underling. Then she looked around with irritation. “I don’t see any really big balloons.”
Candy glanced around at the giant Qualtex balloons all around her. “They seem pretty big to me--”
“NO!” Barbie shouted. “I want BIG balloons! BIGGER! I want them so big that they fill the whole room!”
Candy looked at her watch. “Well, it’s after five, dear. I don’t think the balloon shop is open--”
“But I want it I want it I WANT IT!!” Barbie jumped up and down, pounding her fists on her legs.
Gisselle winced, slightly surprised that her glasses didn’t shatter from Barbie’s piercing scream.
Red-faced from her screaming, Barbie pouted for a moment before her eyes caught the automatic air pump in the corner of the room, surrounded by newly inflated balloons. Barbie’s eyes drifted back to her incompetent assistant. Gisselle had unwisely left her top button undone, and Barbie detected a bit of cleavage--beautiful, shapely cleavage. Barbie glanced down at her own bust, which was truly gorgeous. But it had to be at least one cup smaller than Gisselle’s magnificent rack.
Barbie tilted her head in thought--a rare occasion, to be sure. Gisselle must think she’s pretty big, Barbie thought. Well,...let’s see just how big she can be.
“Mommmm?” Barbie asked with saccharine sweetness, as she always did when she was about to ask for a particularly outlandish request--even if she knew there was no chance it wouldn’t be granted. “I want to make Gisselle my balloon!”
Candy blinked. “Come again?”
“I want a giant balloon for my party,” Barbie elucidated. “So take that air hose and pump her up into a balloon!”
Gisselle swallowed quietly, looking for Candy for help. “Madam?”
“Barbie, I don’t even think that’s possi--”
Barbie began jumping again, her voice even more piercing than before. “But I ALWAYS get what I want! I’m a veritable princess! Make her my balloon! Blow her up! I WANNA SEE HER INFLATE!!”
Candy gently steered Gisselle to the air pump. “You heard her, Gisselle. She wants a big balloon, she GETS a big balloon.”
“But madam--!”
“You want to keep this job?”
“Well, I need this job very much, but I don’t think--”
Gisselle was interrupted when Candy stuck the hose in her mouth. “It’s just until the party’s over, I’m sure,” Candy assured her.
Gisselle glanced over at Barbie again, who gave Gisselle a little victory smirk.
Candy turned on the pump, and Gisselle’s round cheeks immediately became more rounded as they pumped full of air. Her eyes shot open, and she was vaguely aware of Barbie’s giggling nearby.
At first, Gisselle’s chest expanded as if she had taken a deep breath and didn’t let it out. Her chest continued swelling as her breasts expanded further, tightening the cloth around her dress suit, stretching the seams until she heard buttons begin to pop off, her cleavage becoming more and more exposed as her breasts got larger and larger.
“Oooo!” Barbie mocked her. “Gettin’ big!”
Gisselle was indeed. Her midsection plumped up as Candy kept feeding her air, her tummy and torso plumping up slowly but surely. Gisselle’s hand went to her belt that had previously been just for show, but now struggled to keep its position around her expanding waistline. “Hmmph!” she groaned, lifting her arms to signal Candy to stop--(I quit, already!)--but when she looked at her arms, she noticed they were all bloated, and her flapping extremities made her look so ridiculous that Barbie laughed out loud.
“Look! She’s gettin’ bigger! She’s get-ting BIG-GERRRRR!”
Gisselle heard the last button pop off her jacket, and her chest surged forward, only to snap through the remaining seams of her blouse as well. Her ass and legs were now full, too, making her attempt to escape look especially comical. All the while Candy firmly held one hand on the air pump nozzle, another on the pump in Gisselle’s mouth, the sound of the tank suddenly competing with the sounds of tearing clothes and the tight, rubbery squeaks coming from Gisselle’s ballooning body.
Gisselle closed her eyes and winced as the belt around her waist refused to release her, ever tightening as her inflating body pushed harder and harder against it. But it still resisted, and her body became increasingly hourglass shaped, her round puffy legs below, her puffy upper body, pinched painfully in the middle. Her skin grew tighter, the squeaks got louder, and Candy found herself gradually backing away from the inflatable assistant.
“Uh-oh! Look out!” shouted Barbie, sounding far more amused than concerned. “She’s gonna blow!”
Gisselle winced again, there was another loud squeak, another surge in her growth, when suddenly...
Bang! Her belly thrust outward as her belt snapped off, flying somewhere over the punch bowl.
“Weee!” Barbie yelled as she clapped with glee. “That was totally awesome!”
The sudden pressure release caused Gisselle to fall forward, but her own belly stopped her fall, as she had become so large the only way to move her was to roll her or bounce her like the balloon ball she had become. Her hands and feet, pushed straight outward from her expansion, now looked like nothing more than points on a star. And still Candy held the hose in her mouth, forcing her to become bigger and tighter as the air filled every body part.
Gisselle still felt herself growing larger, and Candy was having a harder time reaching her mouth. Finally, Candy released her grip on the hose, but it remained firmly in Gisselle’s mouth, pumping her fuller and fuller.
“Ha! This is priceless!” Barbie yelped. “Wouldn’t it be funny if she just POPPED?”
“Hmmmph!” Gisselle protested feebly.
All Candy could say was, “If you say so, dear.”
“Hmmmph?” Gisselle tried to look at Candy as if to ask, “Are you out of your mind?!” but she had no neck to turn her head. She could only look straight forward into the pretty but evil face of that spoiled brat Barbie, who watched Gisselle inflate with that sadistic smirk. What that girl needs is a damn good spanking! How would SHE like to be inflated and humiliated, treated like some toy for a little brat’s amusement--
CRASH!! Gisselle’s expanding backside--which could now be reasonably considered her lower hemisphere--had just knocked over the dining table, shattering glass, spilling the punch bowl, and creating yet another nightmare for the cleaning lady. [The cleaning lady, by the way, was a staggeringly hot Latina chick who looked uncannily like Eva Longoria. That has nothing to do with this story, but I thought I’d mention it.]
“Uh-oh!” Barbie called out. “Someone’s getting too big for her britches!”
Gisselle could respond only with a pathetic “Grrph!” The air, finding fewer places to go, now filled Gisselle’s head, and it puffed up, releasing her hair from her ponytail and allowing it to fall and spread out against her widening globular body. Her glasses were pushed off her bloated face, bouncing once off her rounded front before falling to the carpet. Her clothes were now completely shredded, and the remains of her business suit now in tatters on the floor, along with her torn high heel shoes. As if it were possible, she felt even more vulnerable, now that she was a giant, naked balloon.
“Whoo!” Barbie cheered. “Look at her! Nothing but a big, fat balloon! She’s blowing up so nice and big!”
Gisselle heard air coming in gentle spurts from her mouth, as if it could find no more room inside her and was beginning to look for a way out. Gisselle, already quite nervous, became terrified when she realized that the pressure was still growing inside her--but she was no longer expanding. She had reached her limit.
The pressure built and built and built until...
The air stopped. Gisselle couldn’t see Candy from over her bloated body, but she could still see Barbie’s happy face turn into a pout.
“What are you doing?” Barbie sneered at her mother.
“She’s as big as she’s going to get, dear,” Candy explained.
“NO!” Barbie said, stomping her feet. “I want her to fill the whole room!”
Gisselle inwardly panicked. She felt so full that she was about to burst--and she wasn’t nearly as big as the giant mansion’s expansive living room.
“I really don’t think she can take any more, dear!” Candy insisted. “I think she’s just about to burst!”
“Mmmph! Mmmmph! Mmmph!” Gisselle agreed, looking pleadingly around for some sign of rational thought in this room. Please please PLEASE stand up to your bratty daughter just this once!
“But I want her bigger! And I always get my way! So make her bigger! Blow her up more! I want to see her get bigger! Make her bigger make her bigger MAKE HER BIGGER!!”
Gisselle recognized that shriek. It was the shriek that always made Candy cave in.
Candy sighed. “Whatever you want, dear.” Candy turned on the nozzle once again, but quickly moved her hands to cover her ears.
“Mmmmmmm!” Gisselle murmured over the sound of the air tank, the hissing air, the squeaking of her straining elastic body.
Below her, the beautiful brat Barbie stood watching her. Her head was cocked playfully to one side, one hand on her lovely hip, the other hand waving her fingers at the swollen Gisselle. She smiled broadly and mouthed the words...
Bye bye.
Gisselle couldn’t stand it. Her body wobbled with impotent, unreleased rage. She hated that bratty girl so much she could EXPLODE--!!
Gisselle thought it was impossible: Her body simply could not get any bigger. But for just a brief moment, just a split second, her body surged in growth just once more...
And then she exploded with a loud BANG!, showering the room with the remaining fragments of her clothes. Barbie let out another shriek, this time of delight, and she fell into a fit of giggling. She dropped to her knees and threw Gisselle’s remnants into the air like confetti.
Candy just watched her daughter, pleased that she could make her so happy.
Barbie grabbed a clump of Gisselle’s shredded business suit and seemed to talk to it. “See? I’m the prettiest, the hottest, the greatest girl ever!” And she was.
“And I get everything and anything I want!” And she would.
“And it’s just what I deserve!”
And strangely... it was.