or, 1001 Inflationary Nights
or, “1001 Inflationary Nights”
When the three gorgeous women entered the tavern, the smart men headed for the door. The others, clearly the majority, remained to stare at the blonde, brunette, and redhead who strutted confidently, perhaps arrogantly, to the bar. The female bartender, Sarah, politely took their drink orders and served them without comment.
She recognized the hot trio as Baby (the blonde), Brianna (the brunette) and Kitty (the redhead). Baby’s perfection culminated in her sculptured butt, which caressed a lucky bar stool. Her beauty was only enhanced, not detracted, by her prominent angular nose. The tall, athletic Brianna leaned over the bar, resting her inviting breasts, which seemed to need a break from their attempts to break free of her tight tank top. The rambunctious Kitty, always smiling, attracted many eyes to her skin-tight shorts that rode up her crotch while exposing her long golden legs. Sarah knew it was best to stay in their good graces.
Unfortunately, Bob was new in town.
He, like most of the male species, was immediately entranced by the three beauties. With a lustful look in his eye, he sauntered up to the bar next to the gorgeous treacle. “Hey, ladies,” he cooed, “buy you all a drink?”
Baby and Brianna just looked impassively at him. Kitty, however, beamed with excitement. “Oooh! A volunteer!” she said jubilantly.
“A volunteer?” Bob repeated mindlessly.
“Yep,” said Kitty. “See, I like two things in life: Popping bubble gum and popping men. And guess what? I’m all out of bubble gum! So goodbye!”
With that, Bob looked down to see his coat filling up like an inflatable life jacket. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it wasn’t his coat that was doing the inflating. His body was rapidly pumping up, blowing up like a balloon. The coat quickly began to shred, and in just seconds, Bob had become a huge balloon ball, rapidly expanding in all directions, losing his human features to be replaced by a round, inflating ball for a body. A few more seconds, and all that remained of Bob was his puffy head, hands and feet sticking out of a giant balloon that continued to grow at an exponential rate.
Kitty giggled, her wild eyes gleaming with the anticipated conclusion. A slight grin broke out on Brianna’s previously impassive face. Sarah the bartender covered her ears. Baby looked slightly bored.
Bob had ballooned so big that he was almost touching the ceiling of the tavern. Kitty pointed at him. “Pop!” she shouted. She liked to predict when the big bang would occur, but she was not always accurate. Bob continued to inflate.
“Please, don’t!” he pleaded through his plump lips.
“I said pop!” said Kitty, and thrust her finger at him again. But he still just grew bigger, looking pleadingly around for help that wasn’t forthcoming.
“I’ll do anything!” Bob assured her. “Don’t let me burst!”
But Kitty just ordered him again: “Pop!”
Bob’s puffy head touched the ceiling, and then…
BANG! Bob burst into nothingness, leaving only shredded articles of clothing to indicate he had ever existed.
“Yes!” said Kitty, throwing up her arms in victory, drinking in the echo of the popping noise that she loved so much. Baby and Brianna exchanged a knowing glance. A few more patrons carefully made their way to the door.
Kitty closed her eyes and clenched her fists in ecstasy. “God, I love it when they beg!”
Brianna nodded at the torn remains of Bob’s clothes. “That was a good one,” she acknowledged.
Baby just looked forward and sighed.
Kitty leaned forward, looking past Brianna at the blonde. “Baby! What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing,” said Baby distantly. “I guess I’m getting a little blasé, you know? I think I’ve popped so many men in my time that it’s getting old.”
Kitty just gaped as she struggled with the concept. “Getting old? Who gets tired of popping men? That’s like getting tired of multiple orgasms!”
“I think I understand,” said Brianna. “I have to admit it; it’s never quite as good as the first time I popped a guy.”
“You guys are nuts!” said Kitty, whose love of popping was unsurpassed. “It just gets better and better for me!”
“Oh, it’s still nice,” said Baby. “But the first was the best for me, too.”
Kitty just looked puzzled. “Well, why don’t you tell us about it?”
“Yeah!” Brianna encouraged her. “Tell us about your first time!”
Baby smiled, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled the happy memory. “Well, it was like this…” she began, rubbing her chin. And the world went all blurry and wavy…
1. Baby’s Tale
My boyfriend John and I went down to a secluded area of the beach. I brought along my inflatable raft, but I forgot to bring the air pump. So I asked John to blow it up for me.
“Oh, man, are you sure you need it?” he asked, because he knew it would take quite a bit of time and quite a bit of air. But of course, all I needed to do was bat my eyelids at him, and he started a-blowin’.
I lay on the sand in my bikini—you know, the thin white one that becomes transparent when it gets wet?—and I didn’t do anything but watch him inflate that raft for about 20 minutes. I kept him inspired by just being there, lying on my stomach so he could see my butt as well as my rack. I knew he thought I looked good, so he kept puffing away like a good little boy.
As I watched the raft inflate, I began to feel a little funny. Watching it get bigger, I think I felt a twinge of something, a sign that maybe watching things inflate held a special interest for me. The bigger it got, the bigger this feeling became, and I began to feel a bit playful.
Finally, the raft was almost fully inflated. John was clearly winded and anxious to see me get wet. He held the nozzle, trying to get it closed without any air escaping.
“One more breath,” I told him.
“Baby, it’s full,” he assured me. “What do you want me to do, pop it?”
“It won’t pop,” I said. “Trust me. Just one more breath. A deep one.”
So he took a deep breath, and just as his lips touched the nozzle, I leaped onto the raft. The sudden pressure on it blew back all the air in the raft, as well as the air he had inhaled. I think we were both surprised what happened next.
The raft was totally deflated again, and all the air was pushed back into John. His eyes widened as his whole body plumped up. Not just his cheeks; not just his stomach; but his arms, legs, and entire midsection all puffed up with air. The nozzle of the raft dropped out of his mouth, but no air escaped. I don’t know how all the air managed to stay inside of him. Of course, later I learned that I was doing it by my own willpower; but at the time, all I knew was that I had accidentally discovered how to inflate my boyfriend.
After an initial moment of shock, I burst out laughing, and I kept laughing at him for some time, rolling around in the sand, holding my sides. He squirmed around, trying to adjust to his new bloated condition and failing miserably. He could barely move! It was so priceless!
“Baby! It’s not funny!” he wailed, but that just made me laugh harder.
“What do you mean?” I said, gasping and crying from laughing so hard. “Look at you! You’re a balloon! It’s hilarious!”
He fumed a bit, still trying to move his arms, but all he could do was flail them a little bit. Finally, he looked down at his blimp body and chuckled a little. “I guess I do look a little funny,” he admitted. “But that was still pretty mean!”
“You’re right,” I said, finally getting control of myself. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him as best I could. “That was pretty cruel of me, and I owe you something for that.”
He looked at me lustfully. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“A good swim!” I said, and I snatched him up and threw him into the water. Then I jumped on top of him, using him as my raft as I paddled around.
“Baby!” He tried to call out, but the waves would splash over his face, keeping him from saying much of anything.
“Relax, pool-toy!” I called down to him. “It’s not like you’re going to drown! You’ve got plenty of air!” I laughed again and kept paddling for a while, his body squeaking beneath me as the waves batted us about.
Finally, I noticed his head had been underwater for a while, and he was looking a bit blue, so I reluctantly dragged him back to shore. I squeezed his rubbery body a little, forcing a gush of water to shoot out his mouth, aided by all that air inside him. Unfortunately, this also caused him to deflate a bit, and he was sufficiently deflated that he could walk around a bit.
This would not do. Before he could escape, I threw him down on the beach, and acted as though I was about to give him mouth-to-mouth. He didn’t even resist as I laid him on his back, pinched his nose closed, and brought my open mouth down on his.
And I blew.
He went, “Hmmmph!” as his body plumped up again, returning to his inflatable-raft state. But I didn’t stop there. I blew again, and he plumped up further, especially in his midsection. He began to put up a fight; but it was just so pathetic, with his pudgy arms and legs flailing around, that I almost began laughing again. But as I felt him get larger beneath me, heard his body squeaking from the increased air pressure, my amusement gave way to a deeper, sensual feeling. I puffed again, and sighed inwardly as he expanded again. So I puffed some more, and then again. I closed my eyes, just feeling his rubbery body inflate and inflate. I rubbed my hand over his inflating belly, feeling it get bigger and bigger. I totally lost control, and for the next several minutes—I lost complete track of time—I just concentrated on blowing up my pool toy.
Finally, I opened my eyes, and all I could see was round flesh in front of me. I had blown him up so big that he looked absolutely giant, like a hot-air balloon version of himself, but rounder, looking less like a person and more like a giant balloon-ball.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, looking over the vast expanse of his body. “You’re a huge balloon! You are the biggest balloon I’ve ever seen!”
He murmured something back, but I realized that my hand was clutching his lips, holding them as if his mouth was the neck of a giant balloon. I decided to keep it that way for a while. I again lay on the sand, lying on my back and holding my balloon up to the sun. John was stretched so tight, so thin, that he was transparent, and I could see the clouds above me. I kicked him gently, bouncing him in the air, while keeping a tight grip on his lips. I was entranced at my giant balloon. I had never seen one so big in my life. I ran my toe over his taut skin, feeling his rubbery body against my leg. Finally, I whispered, “So what do I do with you?”
He tried to share his idea with me, but I wouldn’t release his mouth. I was just thinking aloud.
“How big can you get?” I asked.
Again, he squirmed helplessly, looking pleadingly back at me with his distended face. I noticed he no longer had a neck; his body had absorbed most of his extremities, and I saw him only as balloon with a face on it.
“I think I’ll find out,” I said.
“Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!” he said.
I just laughed and blew into him again. The air was struggling to escape, and his body kept trying to push the air back at me, resisting any further growth. I pulled back a little, looking over his giant balloon-body. Then came the moment when I faced the very real prospect that I would cause my boyfriend to burst. Part of me was scared. But most of me was excited, knowing that only one conclusion would satisfy me. I could never just go back to seeing John as he was before.
“You’re about to burst, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Mm-mm!” he agreed.
I squeezed him gently between my legs. “Good,” I said, and blew him up again.
I blew and blew, and I realized that, for me, there was no going back. I had to see this to the end. I would not stop. I could not stop. I just puffed, and puffed, and puffed…!!
The explosion was sudden, terrifying, and exhilarating. I wallowed in its power, as the sound of his bursting echoed back at me, still ringing in my ears as I drank in the sight of boy-balloon fragments raining down on me.
****
“Sweet,” said Kitty, picturing the image in her mind.
“That’s a nice story,” Brianna agreed, nodding.
Baby sighed. “Never another time like the first.”
“So,” said Kitty, “did you feel any remorse?”
Baby looked genuinely confused by the question. “Remorse? What for?”
“For popping a guy you could’ve had more sex with first!” said Kitty, as if it were obvious.
Baby made a contemptuous noise. “Please! As if guys to use as sex toys are hard to come by!” She looked over her shoulder at the nearest male, who was ogling Baby from a couple tables away. “You!” said Baby. “Come here!”
The man looked around to make sure she was talking to him. Then he raced up to the bar where she sat. “Who, me?”
“Yeah, you,” said Baby, a little impatiently. “You want to be my boyfriend? Maybe go back to my place and have sex later on?”
“Hell, yeah!” said the guy.
Baby turned to her friends. “See? Piece of cake!” Then she turned back to the eager man. “Now blow up until you pop.”
The man immediately began to inflate, becoming a round balloon in just a few short instants. “But—but I never got to—I mean, we never even—!!”
But Baby had already turned back to her friends, ignoring the cries of her inflating victim. “Anyway,” Baby continued, “how about you guys? You remember the first guy you ever popped?”
Brianna nodded. “Oh, yeah, I’ve got a great story about that.” She looked over Baby’s shoulder. “Watch it; your ex-boyfriend’s about to pop.”
“Who? What ex-boyfriend?” Baby looked over her shoulder at the man she told to inflate, having forgotten him already. “Oh. Him,” she said, uninterested.
The man was a huge expanding ball, almost to his limits. He looked down at the three gorgeous women, especially at the woman was causing him to inflate. “I regret nothing!” he shouted, and burst into pieces.
Kitty whooped and clapped for a moment before turning back to Brianna. “Anyway, you were saying…?”
“Yeah, the first guy I ever popped. Actually, it was a communal experience. I was joined by my entire cheerleading squad. But it’s still a great story. I remember it as if it were a memory from high school…”
She rubbed her chin, and the world became all blurry and wavy…
2. Brianna’s Tale
We were having cheerleader practice on the football field; and as usual, we were being watched by some pathetic chubby kid named…Actually, I don’t remember his name now. Not important. Let’s just call him Billy. Billy the Blimp.
Anyway, our cheerleading captain was Rochelle, a buxom blonde with the most pronounced hourglass figure you’re likely to encounter. I’m not sure why I shared that detail, but I’m sure it’s significant. Billy seemed to be enjoying the view, watching us from the bleachers like some lovelorn puppy dog. We ran through a few routines, and then Rochelle called us over for a group huddle and told us her plan.
We ran through another cheering performance, one that included lots of hip gyrating, girl-on-girl contact, and ended with our lining up and pulling up our cheerleading skirts to expose our upper thighs. Billy practically drooled on himself, and it took all my willpower not to laugh.
We ended our bit and Rochelle called to Billy. “Hey, you! Come down here!”
Billy moved as fast as his girth could carry him. He panted at us, “Yeah?” and we could all smell the chips on his breath.
“The girls and I were talking,” Rochelle began, “and we all agreed that we like guys who have a little more…bulge on them.” She traced her finger down Billy’s round belly.
“Yeah, right,” he said skeptically, but he made no move to remove Rochelle’s finger. He looked around at the dozen hot, athletic young women; and, like all guys, was willing to forego any logical thinking if he could accept the possibility that even one of them would be willing to have sex with him.
“We were wondering…” Rochelle scanned the rest of the squad, feigning a bit of embarrassed hesitation. “We were wondering if you’d be willing to make yourself even bigger—you know, by blowing yourself up like a balloon!”
“Oh, very funny!” he said, rightfully cynical at this point.
“No, we’re serious! We talked it over, and we all thought that it would be really hot to see a guy get really…really…big!”
The rest of the squad and I nodded our heads forcefully, struggling to keep straight faces.
“Well, uh, how could I do that?” he finally asked. “That’s impossible.”
“No, just try it!” I urged him. “Just go like this…” I blew air but kept my lips closed, allowing my cheeks to puff up. I exhaled. “Just do that, but don’t let the air go. You can do it.”
“That won’t work!” he insisted.
We gathered closer, young, nubile bodies now all around him. “Oh, please!” I said. “Just do it for us! Here, we’ll cheer you on!”
And then we did some kind of cheer, using his real name, whatever the hell it was, but it went something like: “Blow, Billy, blow! Blow, Billy, blow! Go, go, go! Blow, Billy blow!”
He looked us over again, twelve amazing pairs of legs in short skirts, before he inhaled and puffed up his cheeks. We kept cheering: “Blow, Billy, blow! Go, go, go!”
We all started giggling at the expression on his face when Billy went from obese to comically ballooned in an instant, a hiss of air rounding out his back and sides to match his belly, his arms and legs becoming bloated, but firm instead of flabby. His arms stuck out at 45º angles, resting on his blimping sides. He stopped and stared at his inflated figure, and we could see he was a little freaked. We couldn’t have that.
Rochelle stepped up and rubbed his rounded chest. “Oooo! Feel him, girls! He’s so soft, like a balloon!” And just like that, twelve pairs of hands began feeling Billy up. We saw his face turn red, and giggled a bit more, but his ego was inflated as well.
“Can you get bigger?” I asked him.
“I can try,” he said. I exchanged a knowing glance with Rochelle as Billy puffed up his cheeks again…and nothing happened. “It’s not working,” he said, dispiritedly.
“Keep trying,” Rochelle encouraged him. “Here, we’ll help by cheering you on.”
And we started up with our cheers again: “Blow, blow! Don’t go slow! Show us just how big you’ll grow!”
And like that, he got bigger, doubling his circumference in a few seconds. His arms were now at 90º degree angles, sticking out of a big round ball. We cheered and clapped excitedly. “This feels cool!” he said, and I’m pretty sure he was talking about both the inflation and the adulation.
“Bigger! Bigger!” we chanted.
And he ballooned even larger. The state of his arms was a moot question, as all that was left of them was his stubby hands. Presumably his stubby feet were sticking out from underneath, but we could no longer see them, his round body totally covering them up. He paused again, and we all stopped to clap.
Then I told him, “Wait a minute!” The group of us rapidly formed a human pyramid. I climbed on top and stretched my arms to the sky, allowing my shirt to pull up a bit, exposing my midriff. “Can you get this big, Billy?”
“Oh, yeah!” he said excitedly. “I can be as big as that! In fact, I can be even bigger than all of you together!”
“So what are you waiting for?” I called back to him, and we all chanted: “Puff! Puff! Show your stuff! You just can’t get big enough!”
And our Billy-balloon billowed out bigger, inflating until he could see over the top of my head. “I’m so big! Look at me! I’m the biggest boy in school! And I’m going to be even bigger!”
“So do it!” I said, and we shouted, “Blow until you reach the moon! Pump it up, you big balloon!”
He swelled even larger, and soon he was as high as the bleachers. And then even higher!
“Blow, blow, don’t slow down! Pump yourself up nice and round!”
We could barely be heard over the sounds of the hissing air and rubbery squeaks coming from his balloon body, as he got ever bigger, now inflating so big that he was nearing the field lights!
“Yes!” Billy called out to us, or to the heavens. “I’m the biggest balloon ever! Look at how big I am! And I’ll get even bigger!”
And he did, as we shouted, “Two, four, six, eight! Puff again and you’ll inflate!”
He loomed over the football field as he pumped up and up and up…
“Bigger than the highest tree! Bigger even than a mountain—blow as big as you can be!”
He stretched out further, getting larger and larger, turning red from the strain, his growth slowing as it took more and more air to make a noticeable difference…
“Bigger! Larger! More immense! Bigger than the continents!” (Okay, at this point, we were running on empty.)
But Billy seemed to be reaching his limits, too. He had stopped blowing and was instead looking nervously down at us. “I think I’m big enough now, girls!”
“That’s it?” I said, sounding disappointed. “You can’t get any bigger than that?”
“I’d like to,” he admitted. “But I feel so tight, like I’m gonna burst! I want to get bigger, but I don’t want to pop!”
“Awww,” we all said in a group groan. “You won’t get a little big bigger? Not even for us?”
“Girls, I’m serious! I can’t get any bigger! I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but I’m not going to pop for you!”
I smirked. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.”
“W-what?” he said, probably noticing the change in tone the conversation was taking.
“You think you could just blow yourself up by puffing up your cheeks?” I asked him. “What, are you some kind of idiot?! You weren’t blowing yourself up, balloon-boy! It was our cheers that were making you bigger!”
Billy took a moment to process that while we started laughing at him. After we calmed down enough to hear him, he asked, “S-so, how do plan to get me deflated?”
“Deflated, nothing!” said Rochelle. “You’re gonna burst!”
“No, don’t!” Billy said.
But the cheers already began: “Blow, blow, don’t ever stop! Keep inflating till you pop!”
“Please!” he said, getting dangerously bigger, the squeaks getting louder, his skin turning redder.
“Listen to this rhyming verse! Puff and puff until you burst! Burst, burst, burst!!”
“Ooohhh…!” His body grew ever so slightly, trembling from the strain.
“Two, four, six, eight! You are going to overinflate! Pop, pop, pop, POP!!”
As if on cue, his body reached its limits.
BOOM!!
Then we all went out for pizza.
****
Kitty sighed. “Nice one,” she said. “But I can’t believe that he was the best balloon you ever popped.”
“Well,” said Brianna, smiling, “I guess I’ve had a few good balloons since then. But I see Baby’s point: After you’ve popped a few hundred men, I suppose the rush diminishes.”
“Geez,” said Baby, “how many men have we popped between the three of us?”
The ladies did a few quick calculations and arrived at 998 men.
“Wait,” said Baby. “Did we count the two men we popped since we came in here?”
“Nope,” said Kitty. “So that’s a thousand.”
“Oh, that won’t do,” said Brianna. She suddenly got up from the bar and walked out the door. Outside was a male patron who, having overheard enough from the three ladies to know he was in imminent danger, decided to head out to his car. “Hey!” Brianna called out to him.
The man froze and spun around to face the tall, dark-skinned beauty.
“Blow up like a balloon until you pop!” she ordered him.
The man immediately began to inflate. “I gotta get to work!” he protested, but Brianna was already heading back to the bar.
“Where did you go?” asked Kitty.
“Just wait,” said Brianna, holding up a finger.
They waited for a moment. Suddenly from outside came a loud explosion, sounding like thunder in the parking lot. Brianna sighed. “1001, my friends!”
Baby grinned. “Okay, I still love that sound,” she admitted. “But how about you, Kitty? We haven’t heard your first popping story!”
“Well, it’s like this…” said Kitty, stroking her chin. The world went all blurry and wavy…
3. Kitty’s Tale
I plugged an air hose into my boyfriend’s navel, and I kept pumping and pumping until he exploded.
****
“That was the lamest inflation story I ever heard,” Baby whined.
“Hey!” said Kitty, shrugging. “I just said that it was the first guy I popped. I didn’t say it made a great story.”
“You must have a better one than that,” Brianna coaxed.
“Actually, I do,” said Kitty, beaming again with a warm, wonderful smile that revealed a certain amount of mischief as well. “I was a blossoming young woman, and I had just learned how to combine my love of popping balloons and popping men…”
She rubbed her chin, and the world went all blurry and wavy…
or, “1001 Inflationary Nights”
4. Kitty’s Tale (Redux)
My mom’s boyfriend, Dave, was a real creep. I mean, he was almost old enough to be my father, but he totally had the hots for me. Of course, he didn’t say anything or do anything to suggest that he wanted me. He didn’t even look at me that much. But I was a hot young redhead, and I knew he wasn’t gay, so he must have liked me, the sick old creep!
At first, I tried to expose his lust for me by wearing a lot of tight clothes around him and bending over in front of him, that sort of thing. But he didn’t go for it. He still pretended that he was interested only in my mom. So when my mom was away, and he was left to supervise me, I made my move. He was sitting on the couch, reading, when I jumped on his lap and started kissing him all over. He pushed me away, saying that he was flattered, but he was dating my mom and was too old for me. But I hasten to add that he took a few seconds to push me away, so I knew for sure that he wanted me. What a sicko!
So I decided to get rid of him. I pretended that I was cool with his rejection and left, but I came back a little later with a bag of balloons. “Don’t mind me,” I told him. “I’m just going to blow up some balloons.”
“No, I don’t mind,” said Dave. (He wouldn’t, either, the dirty old man!)
First I blew up this bright pink balloon. In my peripheral vision, I saw Dave watching me. Oh, he pretended not to be paying attention, but I caught him looking at me, or my balloon, from time to time. I lay on my back, my hair sprawled out on the carpet below me, as I raised the balloon toward the ceiling, taking deep, passionate breaths before putting them into the balloon. The balloon got quite big, and I began hugging it to my chest, sighing as I cuddled it to my body. I drew my hand over it, causing it to squeak. Then I licked it before blowing into it again.
Dave really was paying attention now. He wasn’t even pretending to ignore me. He tried to come across as just curious, but he must’ve been bursting with desire at that point. He squirmed a bit on the couch, and I figured he was getting a huge boner.
I kept on blowing up the balloon. It was huge now, and it was hard to hold onto it. But I kept at, making it bigger and bigger with every breath. It was so big and tight, and my heart was pounding, but I kept putting breath after breath into it and finally…POW! It popped from my hand, sending pink fragments all over.
I panted a bit, being a little out of breath. “You like that, Dave?”
Dave still sat there calmly, suppressing his unbearable lust. “Well, it is a little difficult to read if you’re going to be popping balloons all night.”
Ha! He wanted me to leave the room so he could masturbate! That proves he wanted me, and that he deserved everything that was coming to him.
I pretended not to notice his feigned “objection.” I reached into my bag of balloons and pulled out a big white one. “Ooh, look at this big one,” I said, holding it up for him to see. “You know what I’m going to call this one? I think I’ll call it Dave.” I reached toward a nearby coffee table and picked up a magic marker, which I used to write Dave’s name on the balloon. “See? This balloon is you now, Dave!”
“That’s nice,” he said.
“Oh, you don’t know yet how nice it is,” I said, smirking.
I kept my eyes on him as I entered my breath. I put my lips around the mouth of the balloon, blowing into it, causing it to make a gentle “shoowmp” sound as it rapidly plumped up, the way balloons do when you pump that first breath into it. But in this case, the sound came not only from my balloon, but from Dave.
Shoowmp! Just like that, both my balloon and my mom’s boyfriend inflated, firming up with that first breath.
Dave looked down at his torn shirt, ripped from the sudden expansion of his middle. “Oh my god! What happened? How did you do that?”
I shrugged. “Like this,” I said, and blew my second breath. The balloon easily doubled in size, and so did Dave. He rapidly turned into a balloon ball on the couch, already nicely rounding out along with my balloon. His expanding belly had already knocked over the coffee table.
“Bad Kitty!” he yelled at me. “Stop that right now!”
“No,” I said, and I blew up my balloon some more, causing him to swell and swell.
“Ohhhhh!” he said as he rapidly grew, now much bigger than the couch he had been sitting on. I paused for another breath, but Dave said, “Kitty! I mean it! Knock it off or I’ll tell your mother!”
“But Dave,” I said, “I’m just getting started! My balloon isn’t even half as big as I want it. In fact…” I flashed him my mischievous smile. “Remember what happened to that pink balloon? I want to do the same to this one!”
“No! You can’t be serious!”
“Just watch. Watch and inflate!” I puffed again and again and again! He grew and grew and grew! He was quickly filling up the living room.
“Kitty! I’m serious! I feel like I could pop!”
I scoffed. “Oh, please! If this balloon can get bigger, then you can too. And I’m going to blow this a lot bigger. Much, much bigger! Wanna see?”
“No!” But it was too late, because I had already inhaled. And then I exhaled into the balloon, and Dave whined again as his growth surged forward again, this time growing so large he was nearing the ceiling.
I took the big, full, white balloon of mine and held it up to Dave. “See how big it’s getting? I’m going to make it even bigger. It’ll be huge. And you are going to be enormous!” I blew and blew, watching with satisfaction as Dave’s panicked face bulged out from the increasing air pressure. He swelled so large that the walls were confining his growth. He made some rubbery stretching noises as he collided with the walls and the ceiling, his body wanting to expand more but meeting too much resistance.
“Oh, god! Kitty, it’s too much! You can’t keep blowing me up! I’ll burst! Please!”
Well, you know how I love it when they beg, so I decided I didn’t want to pop him until I had my fill of tormenting him first. I tied off the balloon and drew my hand across it, making a loud squeak. Dave let out a squeak at the same time.
“Cool!” I said, giggling at the expression on Dave’s face when he realized I could do other things with the balloon than just blow him up. I squeezed the balloon a bit with my hands, and Dave’s sides concaved a bit, as if two giant hands were squeezing him.
“Uhh!” Dave groaned, the pressure on his sides causing him to bulge out in other areas, including his head. It looked so funny! I just started laughing wildly! “Why are you doing this to me?” he pleaded again.
“Well, you said you didn’t like me,” I told him.
“Oh! Uh, o-of course I like you, Kitty!”
“Ha! I knew it! You’re attracted to me!”
“No! That’s not what I meant. I meant, I liked you as a person.”
I gave him a disbelieving grin. “Well, now, Dave, that’s just a lie. Tell me the truth: that you have the hots for me.”
“Is that what this is all about?”
I squeezed the balloon. “Tell me!”
Dave groaned again from the strain. Finally, his bloated head bobbed a bit, as much as it could do without a neck. “O-okay, Kitty. Here’s the tr-truth.” He looked away from me for a moment, trying to come up with the words. “The truth is, I was just interested in your mother.”
I held up the balloon and poised my nails over its fragile skin.
“Wait!” said Dave. “I was only interested in your mother, but then…”
“Then I kissed you and you fell in love with me?”
“No,” Dave pressed on. “But Kitty, when you started blowing up that balloon…I could feel it. I mean, feel it down there, like you were giving me the best blow job in the world.”
I laughed, but he sufficiently amused me that I allowed him to continue.
“And it felt good, Kitty. Really good. And when you started to blow me up, it was a surprise at first. But as I got bigger, I felt more and more of your warm, moist breath inside me. I can still feel it now, and it feels wonderful! But I don’t want to burst, Kitty, so please don’t pop me! I’ll let you make your balloon anytime, but I’m begging you: Don’t make me burst!”
I pretended to think about it. “So do you like having me blow you up?”
He swallowed. “Y-yes.”
I stepped closer. “And do you like it when I hug this balloon like this?” I pressed the balloons to my chest, and Dave’s front flattened a bit, as if two giant breasts were pushing into him.
“God, yes, Kitty! I feel your breasts all over me when you do that!”
“How about this?” I knelt down and gently sat on the balloon. Again Dave felt squeezed, and his voice came out in a loud squeak, his face totally red.
“Yes,” he peeped, wheezing. “God, yes, I love that!”
I giggled and bounced gently on the balloon with my rear. Dave groaned and let out some dangerous squeaking noises. But his head bobbed again.
“Kitty! Your ass is beautiful!”
“It is, at that,” I admitted. Then I stood back up and ran my hands over the balloon again, gently this time, before placing a long wet lick across it.
Dave’s eyes closed in ecstasy. “It’s too much, Kitty! I love it! I love being a balloon! Do you hear me? I LOVE BEING A BALLOON!”
I smiled devilishly at him. “And do you love me?”
His eyes still closed, he nodded as best he could. “Yes, yes, yes! I love you, Kitty! I love you and I want you bad!”
“You pervert!” I shouted at him, losing my smile. “You’re old enough to be my dad, you sicko! What kind of creep hits on his girlfriend’s daughter? Mom won’t be sorry in the least when you’re gone!”
“No,” he gasped. “Please! I’m sorry!”
“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be,” I said, and I picked up a nearby pin from my mom’s sewing kit. “And in just a second, you’re gonna be nothing at all!”
“Please! Kiiiiiit-tyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
That was the noise he was making when I tossed the balloon into the air and thrust the pin into it, popping them both.
****
Brianna and Baby just stared back at Kitty for a long while. At last Baby said, “That…was the cruelest inflation story I ever heard in my life.”
Kitty bit her lip and looked sheepishly down at her drink.
Then Baby held up her hand. “Gimme five!”
Kitty smiled and slapped her palm. Brianna patted Kitty’s back. “That was the best one yet, girl!”
“Twern’t nothing,” said Kitty, shrugging. “So, you gals still think you’re getting tired of popping guys?”
Baby laughed. “Instead of binge-drinking, I say we go binge-popping!”
“Ah,” cooed Brianna, in her sultry voice. “But where to begin?”
The three exchanged knowing glances before rotating in their seats to face the remaining male customers in the tavern. The men had been watching the ladies nervously, looking for their chance to escape. Now it was too late, and several of the men, despite their strength and size, audibly swallowed.
“Gents,” Baby announced. “We’re here to pop bubble gum and pop some guys. And we’re all out of bubble gum…!”