or, "My Wet Dream"
It was yet another dusty, barren day at the county fair. In the past six hours, only three groups of people had passed by, and none stopped at the water-balloon game he'd been tending. His name was John, but he'd taken the nickname "Tax"--partly because of his love for the Beatles' song "Taxman," but also because it connoted something that brought people pain, and he liked the thought that he too frightened and intimidated people. He did not.
It was nearing closing time on this totally wasted day when his world became a dream.
Tax wiped the sweat from his brow and sat up, looking in the distance as, yes, three potential customers began walking his way. They were tall, they were leggy, and goddamn, they were beautiful. From left to right was a redhead, a brunette, and a blonde. They walked with deliberation toward his booth, with a self-confident--perhaps somewhat arrogant--swagger. Knowing grins were on their flawless faces. They wore matching low-cut white blouses and tight, tight bare-backed jeans.
As they reached his booth, Tax stood at attention (as did the bulge in his pants). He could now read the gold embroidery on their blouses: The redhead was "Kitty," the brunette was "Brianna," and the blonde was "Baby." "Can I help you, ladies?" Tax asked, hoping they didn't hear the crack in his young voice.
Wordlessly, the three put their dollars on the counter and picked up their squirt guns. Tax collected the money and had barely stepped aside when they fired at their targets. The balloons above the targets began to inflate. They giggled softly amongst themselves as the balloons swelled bigger and bigger, racing each other to burst. Tax liked watching the women enjoying themselves, but he couldn't help but keep one eye on the swelling balloons, getting larger... larger... larger...
POP! Kitty squealed in delight as she popped her balloon first. POP! Baby's balloon burst. POP! Brianna's balloon had held out the longest, but it too succumbed to Brianna's will. Tax had never given it much thought before--maybe because his few previous customers had all been children--but there was something deeply erotic about these women popping balloons. Something about their laugh as they forced the innocent, peaceful balloons to meet their destructive end...
Kitty began a victory dance, at first gyrating wildly and laughing. The other two merely watched and smiled. But then Kitty's dancing slowed, her eyes closed, her laughter stopped as her dance became more seductive. She ran her hands over her body, tossed back her hair, and moaned softly to some silent music.
And then Brianna sprayed her with her squirt gun. Kitty squealed again, putting up her hands in surprise; but then she put them down again and let the water drench her blouse, soaking it to her skin. Tax saw her breasts cling to the wet cloth, feeling as though he himself would soon swell up and explode. It was all too much for him to take--all the world was birthday cake.
But it got better. Because, to Tax's astonishment, Kitty's wet breasts... began to grow.
Tax would almost think he was dreaming if not for the unbearable throbbing in his shorts as Kitty's breasts swelled larger, filling out her blouse, becoming more prominent. Becoming rounder and bigger, like the balloons in his game. Kitty threw back her head and laughed, allowing herself to grow a couple more cup sizes. And then she turned her own gun on Baby and Brianna.
Unbelievably, their breasts grew too, as the water soaked their blouses. They laughed and sprayed each other, becoming wetter, and considerably more buxom. Soon they were all drenched. And their swollen breasts nearly burst through the thin, transparent cloth of their tops. They all ignored Tax as they played.
Until Tax spontaneously ejaculated his pants.
He doubled over, clutching his throbbing groin, feeling the wetness spread over his crotch.
The women had stopped and watched him in silent amusement. He looked up, wondering if they knew what was happening--or, God forbid, if they thought he was pissing his pants.
They knew. And the knowing grins returned to their faces.
Brianna turned her water pistol on tax and shot him, drenching his shirt. The other women laughed. At first, Tax smiled too... but something in their laugh seemed different, almost menacing.
And then his body began to swell. Like their breasts, like the balloons in his game. It was impossible. It couldn't happen. But his midsection was expanding.
At first he just stood there, unable to accept that his belly and chest had grown rapidly bigger, bulging out of his shirt and gurgling as the water gushed inside of him. It was far more water than could be coming from Brianna's pistol. But he had no time to digest the illogical situation. He was definitely getting bigger. Filling up like a water balloon.
He opened his mouth to call for help--but Kitty sprayed her gun directly into his mouth. And his inflation doubled. He tried to run, but several pounds of water pressure inside him kept him planted firmly in one spot. Baby also turned her gun on him, and he swelled even faster, and ever so much bigger! Unable to move, unable to scream, Tax grew and grew and grew. His midsection had rounded out to a giant ball shape, forcing his arms outward. Soon, even his extremities plumped up with water. He was so heavy, he fell forward--but his swollen body didn't have far to fall. His bloated belly made a "sploosh" sound, like a water balloon hitting the ground. The pressure inside him mounted. He swelled and swelled, the sounds of rushing water all around him.
And over that was sound of their laughter. He grew bigger. And he grew bigger.
He could no longer tell how big he had become. But he could no longer feel his arms and legs, and with good reason: He no longer had any. He was now just a ball, a large rubbery ball, water pouring inside him, filling him bigger and bigger. His skin had become transparent, revealing no visible internal organs--just water. And as the water filled him bigger, their water guns constantly spurring him to greater and greater sizes, the squeaking from his body grew louder and louder.
Tax began to realize that they were playing the game, but with him as the balloon. And he knew how the game ended.
The booth began to creak as Tax's body threatened to outgrow it. His full, rubbery body squeezed against the wall and the counter, the pressure growing as he became increasingly snug. Still the water flowed. Still the women laughed. And still his body expanded. Growing bigger... bigger... bigger... The tension built as his skin stretched ever thinner.
Tax ignored the squeaking of his body and became barely aware of his increasing expansion. Instead, he looked lovingly down at the three exquisite beauties, for he had now swollen so big they seemed far below him. Their laughing faces, their wet blouses, their swollen breasts. They were so beautiful.
He couldn't speak, but he hoped they could hear his thoughts.
I'M YOUR WATER BALLOON.
MAKE ME BIGGER.
POP ME.
And he swelled and swelled and swelled and...
He exploded.
There was a loud "whoosh" as torrents of water poured down on the gleeful women. They were thoroughly soaked to the skin from head to toe.
Their laughter turned to giggles, which also silenced, to be replaced once again by their knowing grins. All that could be heard was the dripping of water from the booth and from their sleek, sculptured figures.
The declining sun dried their bodies as they swaggered away.