Felix didn’t know what to expect when Imogen led him deep into the decrepit building, although he wouldn’t have guessed that it involved inflating women.
Most of the passageways were sparsely lit, so Felix stayed close behind her, checking out the backside of her jeans as they got closer to the screaming crowd. They seemed to be screaming “Blow! Blow! Blow!” with various other voices shouting encouragement or the more enigmatic “Pop her! Pop her!”
They made their way through the bleachers, and Felix stopped and stared at the sight in front of him: Two giant balloons were spotlighted in the middle of the arena, each surging in growth. Yet the balloons were quite obviously human--swollen stubs where their hands and feet used to be, and pretty female faces on top, each of which blew into a plastic tube, which in turn was connected to a nondescript machine between them, from which there were also two black wires running to the midsection of each human balloon.
Imogen stopped and grinned at Felix, who just gaped as the crowd chanted and cheered. One of the balloon women was slightly larger, and there was a clear look of panic on her face as she surged even bigger. The other, slightly smaller balloon woman blew steadily into the plastic tube from her mouth, the corners of which were upturned in a distinctive, victorious smile.
The crowd stomped their feet, clapped their hands, and continued shouting: “Pop her! Pop her! Pop her!”
The larger balloon woman surged again, let out what sounded like a moan, and with a loud BANG, she burst into shreds.
The crowd rose to their feet, clapping, cheering, and shouting, while cash was exchanging hands.
Imogen leaned close to Felix so he could hear. She pointed to the remaining balloon woman, who was visibly pleased with herself. “That’s her,” said Imogen. “That’s Dreda, our current champion. See? They blow into those tubes, and the aero-accelerator multiplies their breaths exponentially. There are no rules: It’s pop or be popped.”
“That--that woman just exploded,” Felix observed dimly.
Imogen still smirked. “Wanna back out?”
Felix looked back at the smirking, lovely blonde. He always thought she was pretty when she smiled, but somehow it now took on a vicious tint. Still, her flawless face and tightly packaged body kept him from saying anything but “No.”
“Then I’ll introduce you.”
It took almost twenty minutes of waiting, but Felix hardly noticed it. As they waited in a secluded office, Felix looked out the door, left slightly ajar, as a series of lovely women walked by, chatting happily about the people that they had seen blown to bits. One woman was speaking to a friend, “--and then she just went, psssh!!” She threw out her hands, mimicking an explosion, and the two women giggled. Felix listened to them laugh as they continued down the hallway, and he began to imagine what they would look like as balloons.
As if reading his mind, Imogen said, “Oh, you don’t want to mess with Shanelle,” she told him. “She’s also one of the top inflators. She’s popped quite a few competitors in her day; she’d pop you without even getting winded. She’s supposed to take on Dreda next week--” She cut herself off. “Speak of the devil.”
Felix got his first close look at Dreda as she entered the office, and he was unimpressed. Dreda had completely uninflated, but her thighs were still chunkier than he liked them. The bottom of her buttcheeks were exposed by the tight white shorts she wore, but it wasn’t a flattering fashion statement. Worst of all, Felix noted, was the face: Dreda was the homeliest woman he’d seen tonight. Her ears were elephantine; her eyes, proboscis, and mouth were similarly all too big for her head, which had a long, pointed chin that could, in Felix’s estimation, be used to break icebergs. Her straggly black hair was uncombed and stuck out in ridiculous ways.
“Dreda,” said Imogen, “this is Felix. He wants to join Inflate Club.”
Dreda smiled at him, and he inwardly cringed at the crooked teeth.
Imogen continued, “Felix, this is our founder and current cham-peen, Dreda.”
“You think you can handle being popped by a woman?” said Dreda. “Cuz I’ll tell you right now, that’s definitely going to happen.”
“You think so?” Felix said noncomittedly.
“I know so,” said Dreda. “We’ll start you off in the minor leagues, of course. If you survive those--and I do mean ‘IF’--you’ll have to deal with Shanelle. Or Renee. Or Kelsie. They’re our heavy-hitters. One of them will pop you, and if not...” She paused for effect. “I most certainly will.”
Felix smiled back with a self-assurance he didn’t truly have. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Your funeral,” Dreda shrugged. “Rule one: Don’t talk about Inflate Club. Rule two: There are no other rules. It’s pop--”
“--Or be popped, yes, I know.”
“Well, then, welcome to the Club. We meet again next Saturday night. You’ll be going against another freshman, Maura. Get your affairs in order in case you don’t make it. Nice meeting you, Felix.” Dreda turned to leave. Felix didn’t want to look, but he still had to check out the back of her tight white shorts. Dreda was unattractive woman, but Felix was still a male.
Imogen smiled again. “I’ll be rooting for you, Felix.”
“Nice to have a fan.”
“No,” she said, leaning closer to him, the viscious grin still in place. “I just want to pop you myself.”
Felix sat in the stands, trying to determine if there was a strategy, but there appeared to be none. Other than having a good set of lungs and dumb luck, there seemed to be no other battle tactic.
He watched several rounds that night, watched two competing balloons blow each other up, trying to pop the other before they themselves exploded. Probably the highlight so far was when one woman, having just popped her opponent, survived only a second longer before she spontaneously burst herself. The holder of that bet probably walked off with a fortune.
And then the crowd cheered as the woman Felix recognized as Shanelle walked into the center of the arena. Shanelle, Felix decided, was very much his type: A round-faced, round-figured brunette who snugly fit into the black leather pants and vest she wore. Felix found himself strangely aroused at the the thought of her being a balloon, but he was definitely rooting for her not to pop. If he had to be popped by someone here--and he didn’t plan to be popped at all--there would be worse ways to go than by Shanelle’s warm, moist breaths. Or by Imogen’s. He glanced at his blonde friend, who sat next to him in the stands. She was so, so pretty. And one day, if he made it up the ranks, he would have to pop her. Or she would pop him. And he cared preciously little which.
The crowd cheered again, some giving a standing ovation, as Dreda walked into the ring. She waved to the fans, seeping up the adolation with an oversized, toothy smile that made Felix roll his eyes. Dreda, he told himself again, was one freakish-looking chick. He hoped that she’d pop quick.
The two women spoke briefly to each other--what they said was completely inaudible to all but them--but Dreda said something directly into Shanelle’s ear, laughed, and stuck her tongue out. Shanelle just shook her head. Then the two women stood on either side of the aero-accelerator machine, each plugging a black wire into their navels and inserting a plastic tube into their mouths. The referee, a buxom, long-haired blonde in tight red shorts, entered the ring, stood by the machine, and lifted her arm.
“Go!” she said, bringing her arm down, and the competition began.
The two women began blowing into the tubes, the air going into the machine, and exiting through the black wires, causing their bellies to immediately expand as if they were pregnant. Shanelle was wide-eyed and determined, but Dreda looked relaxed, her mouth turned upward in a smile even as she blew. She seemed unconcered that her belly was now billowing out in front of her.
The bulges in the women’s midsections got bigger and rounder. They still looked pregnant, but to an extreme degree, as their bellies looked comically large, almost as if they were carrying full-fledged adults inside them. But that soon changed as the air filled out other parts of them as well, plumping up their arms and legs, pushing out their sides, turning them slowly, inexorably, into human balloons.
Shanelle’s round face got even rounder as she filled up, blowing out air even as more air came inside her, pumping her up like a tire. Dreda was similarly stuffed with air, but still smiling as her puffy arms stuck out at her sides, her legs spreading apart as she filled out into a rounder, more ball-shaped figure.
All the while, fans of each woman were cheering for their preferred outcome.
“Blow, Shanelle! Blow!”
“Pop her, Dreda! Make her burst!”
“Bigger! Blow her up bigger!”
The women responded by blowing and blowing and blowing. And each one swelled up like the balloons that they were--two round, human blimps that pulsated larger and larger, each time reaching a greater and greater height, a wider and wider circumference.
It didn’t take long for a victor to become clear. In only a minute, Shanelle was nearly twice the size of Dreda, who smiled and puffed happily as Shanelle’s eyes clearly showed panic. Her breaths became hurried and irregular, her near hysteria causing her to lose her breath more often. She had to stop repeatedly to catch her breath and inhale, all the while giving ground to Dreda, who just steadily puffed and puffed and puffed, causing her opponent to continuously surpass her in her rate of expansion.
Felix felt hollow inside as he sensed the inevitability of the situation. That freakish-looking chick was going to pop the hottie! It was so unfair! And it didn’t help that the crowd was now clearly on Dreda’s side now, applauding Shanelle’s imminent demise.
Shanelle shifted about in fear as she inflated larger. The crowd cheered. Dreda kept smiling and blowing, inflating at only half Shanelle’s rate. The end was near.
“Pop!” shouted several spectators, who were soon joined by several more. “Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!”
Imogen looked over at Felix, who noticed that her hand was slowly moving across her crotch. He gently took her by the arm, and they walked swiftly out of the stands, climbing below the bleachers, out of sight from most of the spectators. Unconcered if they were seen, and without a word between them, Felix dropped his pants, Imogen pulled down her jeans, and they had at it. They didn’t even look at each other, instead looking over their shoulders at the ring. Felix thrust quickly and Imogen moaned as they watched the ever-expanding Shanelle, her round face becoming even rounder as the air began to fill her head, having already filled her body to its limit. Felix thrust in rhythm with the crowd’s chanting, “Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!”
Shanelle’s body surged again, causing her to moan in despair, just a second before...
BOOM!!
Shanelle burst like an overinflated balloon, with only the shreds of her black leather uniform to indicate that she had been there at all.
The crowd rose to their feet, as Felix and Imogen shared a powerful orgasm, their screams of pleasure drowned out by the cheers of satisfied fans. Meanwhile, Dreda let the plastic tube drop from her mouth and she smiled at the crowd. She could do little else, as she was blown up into a ball, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just laughed as she caught the silhouettes of a man and woman fornicating underneath the bleachers.
“You’re next,” Imogen told Felix as she used a tissue to rub her lipstick off his face.
Felix turned to look at the ring. His opponent--presumably that was Maura--was already waiting for him, dressed in a skin-tight pink body suit and hooking herself up to the aero-accelerator. She was a tall, slender woman, and Felix wondered if that put him at a disadvantage. Did thinner women take longer to overinflate than heavier women? Or vice versa? The crowd murmured amongst themselves as they waited for the next round to begin.
“Remember,” Imogen advised him. “Don’t get popped. It’s my job to pop you.”
“We’ll see,” is all Felix said, and he walked out into the ring, possibly to his doom.
As it was his first match ever, Felix had the buxom blonde referee show him how to hook himself to the machine that would inflate him and Maura. It was actually pretty simple to use; he just wanted a closer look at the ref’s rack.
Strangely, as the referee stood back and raised her arm, Felix did not feel nervous. He just wanted it to begin.
The blonde threw down her arm. “Go!”
Felix had often speculated what inflation felt like, but he still wasn’t prepared for the sudden rush he felt when Maura, with the help of the aero-accelerator, puffed him up like a balloon. It was downright euphoric. He watched in wonder as his gut blew up nice and round, filling him not only with Maura’s warm breath, but also with an overwhelming sense of well-being. He ran his hand over his belly, absorbing just how much bigger he had gotten in so little time.
And then Maura blew into him again, blowing his belly up twice as big. It was then that Felix finally snapped out of his reverie. He had to start blowing--now! He realized already that he had made a bad start: Allowing the opponent to get even one breath ahead of you could be fatal in such a match. And so he blew into the plastic tube in his mouth, the air traveling through the tube, through the aero-accelerator, through the black wire, and into Maura’s belly. She looked instantly pregnant.
Felix’s heartbeat sped up as he puffed hurriedly, trying to make up for lost ground, all the while inflating larger and larger. He couldn’t help but be amazed at his own ballooning body, watching it expand, feeling fuller and fuller in a wonderful, orgasmic sensation. And yet, he didn’t have the luxury of pausing to admire it, because Maura would pop him unless he kept blowing. And so he puffed, hurriedly at first, his nervousness clearly showing. The match was just a few breaths in, but the crowd had already rallied around Maura.
“Go, Maura! Pop him!”
“Blow him to the moon!”
“He’s yours, Maura! Make him burst!”
Felix briefly closed his eyes. He had to focus. As difficult as it was, he had to stop thinking about his own inflation, ignore how big he was getting, how he was so plumped up that he couldn’t even move. He had to just blow, quickly but with deliberation. He opened his eyes again to see that his breaths had the desired effect: Maura was becoming ball-shaped. She was still smaller than he, but he wasn’t out of the game yet. He blew and blew, observing with satisfaction that Maura inflated as easily as a toy balloon. If he could pop a balloon, he thought, he could pop this beautiful woman. He just needed to catch up. He tried to suppress the nervous energy that would cause him to lose his breath. He just kept puffing away, marveling in his own glorious expansion, while at the same time admiring the way Maura surged bigger and bigger. She was a round balloon-ball now, just like him. And it was all his doing.
The bigger he got, the better he felt. And the bigger Maura got, the bigger he wanted her to be. He let the cheering voices turn into white noise, filtering out the calls for him to burst, and instead just focusing on the realm of the ring, watching Maura fill out bigger, feeling himself grow larger. As he puffed, he cheered within his own mind.
I’m a balloon! I’m a balloon! I’m a BLIMP! I’m a giant, inflating BLIMP!
And so is she! Look at Maura! She’s my balloon! I’m making her bigger, and I love it! I’m going to make her so big that she pops!
And so it went on, the two tight, globe-like figures puffing and inflating, puffing and inflating.
Imogen watched nervously and quietly from the stands. It didn’t look good for Felix; he was a size smaller than Maura, and Maura had a little more experience. Felix was blowing hard, but so was she. He always seemed a breath or two behind.
And then something happened that almost made Imogen stand up from her seat.
Maura made another large puff--and the plastic tube flew from her mouth.
The crowd collectively gasped. Strangely, at least in Imogen’s experience, this had never happened before. No one had ever before let her blowing tube fall from her mouth. Maura’s eyes opened wide as she flapped her stubby hands in a futile attempt to reclaim her weapon. But the tube just rolled off her round body and hit the floor. There was a moment of indecision by the crowd. What were the rules in this situation? Did they stop the match? Did the referee step in and give Maura back her tube? Would Felix stop to give Maura a chance?
The answer, of course, was no. Felix knew the rules: There were no rules. It was pop or be popped.
As the crowd fell into deathly silence, and Maura squirmed to get away, Felix inhaled deeply...and he blew.
Maura’s growth surged again, pushing her out in all directions. “Stop! I lost my tube!”
But Felix just blew again. Maura was now as big and as full as he was, her advantage completely gone.
Maura pleaded. “Wait! It’s not fair! Someone help me!”
But everyone just froze, waiting for the next move. It came from Felix, who just blew, and blew, and blew again. Maura swelled and swelled, surpassing Felix’s size and still growing. “Stop the match!” Maura cried. But the referee just watched from the sidelines as Felix kept blowing. “Please!” Maura begged Felix. “Give me a chance! I can’t blow back! It’s not fair!”
Felix just kept blowing, watching Maura stretch and stretch until she was nearly twice his size. He wondered at first if he should stop. But the crowd and the referee had done nothing, apparently feeling as he did that, if Maura lost control of her weapon, she had only herself to blame.
Besides, he admitted to himself, he wanted to see her burst.
His attention was now totally focused away from his own inflated state and onto the beautiful, giant balloon woman in front of him. She was, in fact, a beautiful balloon, Felix thought. And she just got more beautiful the bigger she got. And so he kept blowing and blowing, watching her get bigger and ever more beautiful. She knew, he knew, everyone knew what was going to happen.
Maura is going to pop, he thought. And I’m the one who’s going to make it happen.
“Please,” Maura said, her head now inflating as her body stopped expanding. Her voice was faint, as if she had already given up. She probably had. She knew it was inevitable.
Felix puffed once more, and she let out a little squeak. Her body seemed to quiver ever so slightly. Felix puffed yet again...
BANG!!
Like a spectacular firework display, Maura burst into lovely shrapnel, the explosion shaking the ribs of the front-row spectators. A pregnant pause followed.
And then the crowd burst into applause. Felix, at first the underdog, was now the hero, basking in the applause and adulation. He looked at the lovely shrapnel that had been Maura and wondered if he deserved applause: After all, it’s not like he won fair and square. What would’ve happened if Maura hadn’t made that fatal error? He’d never know.
Imogen smiled and applauded from the stands, even though she knew she was out fifty bucks, having put her money on Maura.
The crowd broke into packs of discussion groups as cleanup began. Two lovely women in tight blue jumpsuits cleaned up the debris that had been Maura. As the audience mixed among themselves, one woman walked from the stands to approach Felix, who still sat there in the ring, a helpless, inflated balloon-boy.
He recognized the woman as Dreda, the founder and all-time champion of Inflate Club. Unfortunately, there was no mistaking her: That freakish face was, sadly, difficult to erase from one’s memory. Felix scowled. Did she think that dressing in those tight white shorts, low-cut tank top, and high heels made her look sexy? Did she really think she could compensate for those giant ears and that oversized mouth with the crooked teeth? What was she thinking?
Dreda looked up at him with her hands on her hips, which carried small but noticeable spare tires. “It’ll take you about fifteen to twenty minutes to deflate,” she told him. “And then it’ll be time for the next round. That’ll be between Tamika and your girlfriend, I believe.”
Felix looked to the stands for Imogen, but he didn’t see her. She had apparently gone backstage to prepare for her round. He was on his own.
“You like her, don’t you?” Dreda asked.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“That’s good,” said Dreda, in a way that suggested that it wasn’t all that good. “You must be pretty proud of your victory. Especially the way you won it.”
Felix didn’t like where this was headed. “There are no rules in Inflate Club, except that you don’t talk about Inflate Club. And that there are no other rules.”
“Maura was a friend of mine,” Dreda said coldly.
Felix just swallowed.
Dreda stepped closer, lifted one of her high-heeled shoes, and dug the pointy heel lightly but firmly into Felix’s taut flesh. He inhaled deeply, feeling the point come dangerously close to piercing his fragile, gossamer skin. “You think you’re pretty big right now, don’t you?” Dreda asked him. “Well, you are nothing compared to how big I can be. You better hope that I don’t get you in the ring, because I’d blow you to bits. You lucked out in this round. You won’t be so lucky next time. You’ll have to get by on your own breath, and I think you’ll pop. But if not...” She lifted her high heel off his skin, and Felix finally exhaled. “I’ll be seeing you.”
As she walked away, Felix tried and failed to resist the temptation to look at her butt in her tight, revealing shorts. Damn it, that ass was too big to be in shorts like that, but he had to look. He hated her even more for that, because he was SO not attracted to her.
It was Felix’s turn to sit in the stands--after getting several congratulatory salutations from attractive female spectators, along with a few flirtations--and he watched as Imogen hooked herself up to the aero-accelerator.
Her opponent was a flamboyant black woman, who, Felix knew, was actually named Tamika, but competed under the name “Spice,” as if she were a wrestler of some sort. She wore a star-spangled outfit, a red-white-and-blue number with stars and stripes on the up-the-crotch shorts and the ever-straining sports bra. She did some wild dances, playing to the crowd, which apparently carried a sizable fan base for her. She was over the top--sort of like her sports bra, Felix noted--but she deserved the attention, because her body was flawless. It was almost too bad that he’d have to see her pop. Almost.
The match began in the usual way, and Felix watched these two gorgeous women, a petite blonde and an athletic black-haired beauty, lose their womanly figures and swell into big, round balloon women. And it continued in the familiar way, each women’s supporters shouting encouragement as the two women blew each other up.
Soon the two women were as big as weather balloons, and there was still no clear frontrunner. They were both disciplined, focused inflation athletes, and Felix felt a little nervous. Could this be an occasion where both competitors wind up bursting? It looked like that was a possibility, though perhaps Imogen was just slightly bigger than Spice.
It was a tense few minutes as each women blew, and each woman inflated. The crowd was going nuts: “Pop her, Spice!” “Go, Imogen!” They were stamping, cheering, clapping. All the while, Felix just quietly watched.
The two women were nearing the size of parade balloons, almost totally round except for their heads sticking out on top. They still blew, still swelled, each keeping pace with the other’s inflation.
And then the crowd sensed it just as Spice did. Spice’s eyes widened in concern as Imogen took an impossibly large breath, apparently using lungpower she had kept in reserve, and focused it all into one powerful gust. Spice was kept off guard, unable to compensate for her sudden expansion, too flustered to regain her composure. Imogen pushed out all the air she possibly could into the plastic hose, the constant flow of air accelerating into Spice and multiplying in force. Spice grew at an alarming rate, surprising everyone who had never seen a woman that big inflate so much more in so short a time. Instead of just a growth spurt, Spice billowed steadily outward in one constant expansion that lasted what seemed to be an incalculable amount of time, panic flaring in her eyes as she began to pulsate ominously, her taut skin squeaking from the rapidly increasing strain. Imogen kept up the pressure, keeping Spice from ever catching her breath or from ever letting her inflation stop. Spice’s growth slowed only modestly as she reached the limits of her endurance, having time for only one quick “Mmmmph!” before she went...
KABOOOOOOMMMM!!
The crowd rose to its feet in exaltation, except for those who lost a fortune on their bets. The applause lasted several minutes, and Felix enjoyed it almost as much as Imogen, who soaked up the spotlight as the cleanup crew arrived. Eventually, after several long minutes, the applause died down, and the spectators turned to each other to talk about perhaps the most intense, exciting match they’d seen in a while.
Felix sat back down again, but he wondered if he should go out to the ring to give Imogen his congratulations. Before he could decide, Dreda appeared from the stands and walked straight up to Imogen, just as she had when Felix was in the ring.
Oh, brother, thought Felix, trying in vain to keep his eyes from straying to Dreda’s slightly exposed buttcheeks. Don’t tell me Dreda gives everyone that “I can be bigger than you” speech.
But in fact, Dreda said nothing. With a swift kick of her high heel, she pierced Imogen’s elastic skin and caused her to burst with a loud BANG!
The sudden explosion caused all conversation in the arena to a screech to a startling halt. An overpowering silence filled the room. Felix rose from his seat in disbelief. Where a moment ago Imogen sat helplessly inflated, there was now just scraps of skin floating to the ground.
Although the rules of Inflate Club were minimal, it was unheard of to pop someone after a match was over, especially when that person had no chance to defend themselves. But no one seemed inclined to punish Dreda, perhaps because she was the Club founder, or perhaps because the vast majority of the crowd were her fans.
In the stunned silence that followed, Dreda stepped in front of the bleachers where Felix sat and flipped him the birdie. “I just popped your girlfriend, fucker! What are you going to do about it?”
The crowd let out a “Ooooh!” from the challenge. Felix just stared dumbly.
“Next week, then, I take it? You and me?” Dreda asked him.
Felix looked around the arena. It was filled with beautiful women, all of whom he would rather compete with. He wouldn’t have minded so much being popped by a hot chick like Imogen, Shanelle, or even Maura. But he didn’t find satisfaction in competing with the ugly chick--especially since she just happened to be the top popper. And yet he couldn’t back out in front of the entire arena. And besides, this time, the competition was personal. After a long, tense moment, Felix nodded.
“Bye-bye!” Dreda sang, and walked out of the ring. Felix’s eyes followed her shorts, as usual, but he was barely aware that he was doing it, as he was already planning his revenge.
He had to pop that freakishly ugly chick. And he knew just how to do it.
Over the next week, Felix found himself lying on his bed at night, with the image of Imogen, fully inflated and helpless, occupying his thoughts. Each time, the image was destroyed by that freakish Dreda, kicking Imogen until she burst, giving her no chance to defend herself. Imogen had been so helpless, so vulnerable, so powerless--and Dreda had been so cruel, so merciless, so totally in control...
And, as it had every day that week, the thought gave him an erection, which his right hand quickly dealt with. He felt guilty getting off on Imogen’s humiliating demise, but that guilt only seemed to stimulate his orgasm.
On this particular night, though, he didn’t climax immediately. The scene played out as usual, with Imogen looking full, tight, and inflated like a round pinkish balloon. Dreda then walked out on stage with her revealing shorts and high heels. She lifted her heel to drive a kick into the balloon--but the face on the balloon was no longer Imogen. It was Felix.
He watched himself burst in his mind, and then pictured the smiling, mocking, victorious face of Dreda, with all her grotesque facial features...and her flabby thighs...and her gnarly hair...!
And then he ejaculated, holding Dreda’s face on his mental “pause” button as he let out a series of guttural groans and spunked on his stomach, the bedsheets, and the walls.
As he lay panting, his heartbeat slowly returned to normal, though his skin was still flushed. He did not just cum because of that ugly, monstrous chick, he told himself. He is not attracted to her! She’s hideous!
He looked down at the friend in his right palm. “Let’s keep this between the two of us,” he told it. Then he closed his eyes, picturing the back of Dreda’s shorts for the better part of an hour, until the incident had to be repeated.
Felix’s duel with Dreda was supposed to be the climax of the evening, so he had to sit and watch as woman after woman popped in front of him in the preceding duels. And he tried to ignore Dreda, sitting in the bleachers only a few rows away, who occasionally turned in her seat to shout over at Felix: “Hey, Felix! Are you ready to POP?!” or “Hey, Felix, can’t wait until you burst!” And then she’d flip him the middle finger.
Felix pretended to ignore her, just as much as he tried to ignore his third erection that night. He just continued to watch the other competitions, all of which he had placed wagers on--and all of which he had won, prompting the cashier to ask where she should send the money, as it would be going to his next of kin by the end of the night.
Felix felt nervous energy building up inside of him as the penultimate match began between a tall blonde named Tess and a short brunette named Yvonne. Felix had put his money on Tess, which turned out to be fortuitous, as it did not take long for Yvonne to blow up to twice Tess’s size. Felix’s thoughts were so occupied that he hardly registered the scene in front of him until Yvonne finally burst.
And then it was time.
As the cleanup crew left the ring, Felix entered, enduring a barrage of catcalls and jeers. Moments later, Dreda walked out to a standing ovation and cheers of “Dreda! Dreda! Dreda!” She waved and pranced around for the crowd, wearing her familiar white tank top and shorts. Felix just waited, letting her have her moment.
Finally Dreda stepped up to him, patting him condescendingly on his chest, as if giving a dog a pat. “I’m going to blow you up niiiiiiiice and biiiiiiig,” she told him lustfully, drawing out the words. “And then, when you’re juuuuust about to burst, I’ll stop for a moment, let you catch up a little, you know, to give you some false hope. But I can get reeeealy big,”--her eyes widened as she said “really”--“so there’s no danger of you popping me. I’ll let you puff your little heart out, and then? Then I’m going to take one, deeeeep breath, and blooooow you up and up and up, and finally--!” She sang it out: “POP!” She threw up her arms for effect. “The look on your face before you burst will be priceless. I’ll enjoy every second of it. And when you explode, I’m just going to laaaaaaugh and laaaaaaugh!” She giggled, as if previewing her victory mirth.
“If you blow this much hot air during the match,” said Felix, “you just may be right.”
Dreda just smiled back at him, but as she turned back to her station, her smirk faded ever so slightly. For a guy who was just about to explode, he seemed quite reserved. She put the thought out of her mind as she and Felix hooked themselves up to the aero-accelerator.
The crowd’s chanting faded into murmurs as the buxom referee came out on stage. All the wagers had been placed: There were no bets on Felix, because no one wanted to take the bet that Dreda would actually pop. Instead, the bets were on how long Felix would last. The odds were 3-to-1 that he would pop within five minutes.
Dreda’s eyes bore into Felix as they stood with the tubes in their mouths and the wires in their bellies. She held the tube firmly in her teeth as her oversized mouth turned up into a wide smile. Felix decided that, along with all her other flaws, her smile showed way too much gum.
The buxom referee raised her arm, counted down from five, and threw her arm back down with a “GO!”
Felix blew into the tube and watched with satisfaction as Dreda’s belly suddenly bloated outward. He noticed that she hadn’t blown yet--she was giving him a head start, thinking him totally outclassed. But he didn’t let her psyche him. He just blew again, watching her body become puffy--or puffier, as the case may be--and her arms and legs became thick with air.
Dreda, smiling with her eyes if not with her mouth, finally blew back. Felix allowed himself to stop blowing long enough to enjoy feeling his chest expand outward--not that he enjoyed being inflated by an ugly chick, of course; but he had to admit that it was still a thrill to be a human balloon.
He gave only marginal resistance as she blew again and again, so that he could concentrate on the sensations involved with inflating. He used his puffy arms to feel his round midsection, savoring the expansion, running his hands over his wonderfully distended flesh. He paused to drink in his pleasure, again allowing Dreda’s warm breath, aided by the aero-accelerator, to pump him up even more. He closed his eyes in brief ecstasy, his whole body trembling with the anticipation of being bigger. Of being nothing but a balloon.
“Pop him, Dreda!” he heard a voice shriek from the audience. He snapped out of his reverie. Okay, he thought. There’ll be time later to enjoy being inflated. Now it’s time to avenge Imogen and pop this bitch.
He inhaled deeply, setting aside for a moment the love of his own inflation, and blew hard into the tube. He watched as Dreda, taken by surprise by the sudden forcefulness of the counter-attack, doubled in size, her arms and legs shrinking as they merged with her round, ball-like body. Felix allowed himself a smile of his own, looking straight into Dreda’s wide eyes. Dreda’s own trademarked smile did not come so easily from this point.
He blew again, watching her grow with exponential force. She blew back, her cheeks reddening and puffed out from the strain. Yet for all her efforts, Felix had managed to blow Dreda noticeably larger than she had blown him. She had to be at least a yard wider in circumference.
The crowd’s chanting had given way to silence. This was not going to be the quick match that they had envisioned.
As the two contestants puffed and puffed, many more bet-holders began to get antsy. Felix was blowing up nice and big, there was no doubt about it: He was now completely ball-shaped and would fill a one-car garage. But at the five minute mark, Dreda was almost twice that, about the size of a small house. Her smirk was totally absent now, her wide eyes staring disbelievingly at her opponent as she surged to greater and greater sizes.
Felix met her gaze, blowing casually into the tube and watching her inflate and inflate. Behind his eyes was a secret, one that Dreda hadn’t anticipated: The other night, when the building was empty of spectators, Felix had come in and sabotaged the aero-accelerator.
At first, he had considered plugging up her tube with cotton, but that would be too obvious, and he would be immediately suspected. Instead, he chose a balloon’s worst enemy: a pin. With a tiny, virtually unnoticeable pinprick in Dreda’s hose, Felix had turned the undisputed champion into the inevitable loser.
Of course, every other woman who chose that side of the aero-accelerator--Yvonne, for example--had been at an unfair advantage and had burst. But you know what they say about omelettes. Besides, he had just made a small fortune on wagers.
One thing he learned about these matches: Once someone took the lead, it was virtually impossible to catch up again, unless the frontrunner did something stupid, as when Maura dropped her hose, something Felix had no intention of doing. So he settled back for a moment to just relish his inflation, reveling in his balloon state. And he could also enjoy watching Dreda consistently outpace him in growth. Her white body was so big--so BIG! Her body was just a huge, beautiful, spherical shape--
Did he say “beautiful”? Well, he supposed most women looked good as balloons. Not Dreda, of course--he wasn’t attracted to her. Still, he did admire the way she inflated, and she looked as good as any balloon he’d seen. And he knew that she would burst just as fabulously. He looked right at her terrified eyes, knowing that she was still dealing with the fact that this amateur was going to cause her to burst.
Yes, Dreda was going to pop. Burst like an overinflated balloon and be gone from this planet forever. No more of her tight shorts on her oversized ass. No more of that giant mouth that liked to taunt him so much. No more of those chunky thighs or oversized ears. No more of her boasting of how big she could get, of how great she was, of how she planned to pop him, because she was the best, she was the greatest...
And then, almost without thinking about it, Felix stopped blowing.
It wasn’t immediate: He first slowed his breathing pace ever so slightly, so that even the most observant spectator wouldn’t suspect anything. His breaths came shorter and were spaced farther apart. Dreda still grew, but at a much slower pace, until finally she inflated at about the rate of Felix.
And then, for a brief moment, Felix stopped blowing altogether.
Dreda, however, did not stop for a moment. She puffed heartily, her face still red and puffy, perhaps glistening with a little sweat, but blow she did. The crowd gasped as Felix, who had been much smaller than Dreda, was now her equal in size, each about the size of a hot-air balloon.
And then Felix got even bigger, and the audience suddenly broke the silence and roared its approval.
The sudden cheers finally penetrated Felix’s inner thoughts: WHAT AM I DOING?!
At once, Felix set to blowing again, but it was too late: Dreda was now ahead, and it would be impossible, even with her defective tube, to catch up. Felix puffed and puffed, but he felt himself ever approaching his limits with every breath Dreda dealt out.
The crowd, sensing the outcome, began its chanting: “Pop. Pop. Pop! Pop! POP! POP! POP! POP!” Their hands clapped; their feet stomped. The corners of Dreda’s mouth again drifted upward in a wide smile.
She puffed again, and Felix surged larger, the impact of the air causing him to wobble with the strain. His body squeaked like a balloon, as if pleading for no more air. His head had begun to fill with air, his body having reached its fill.
“POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!”
Dreda scanned the crowd, drinking in the accolades before looking back at the wide eyes of Felix. She stopped blowing momentarily, perhaps to give him a false sense of hope. But for Felix, there was none: He had stopped blowing several moments ago, knowing that it would not change the outcome.
Did he have any regrets? Even he wasn’t sure, as he sat there, gently wobbling as he waited for her to finish it. He chose to spend the last moment of his life just enjoying being a balloon.
And he looked forward to being popped by the most beautiful woman he ever knew. If he didn’t still have the tube in his mouth, he would have shouted it to the world: Dreda, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you and I want to burst for you!
It was a long, pregnant pause. And then Dreda took a deep breath. And she blew.
It was only a second after she blew when...
BOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!
The crowd rose to their feet, chanting, “Dreda! Dreda! Dreda! Dreda! Dreda!”
Dreda smiled as pieces of Felix drifted to the floor. “Told you I was gonna win,” she said to the empty space. And then, once again the undisputed inflation champion, she laughed the night away.