Michael’s first experience with inflation and balloon fetish was with his first girlfriend. They were both 16 years old, and Suzie was Michael’s first love.
After spending a hot summer day at a traveling carnival, Michael and Suzie walked home and found her house empty. A note on the kitchen countertop explained that the rest of her family had left for the swimming pool at the local recreation center earlier than planned, and would be back at 6pm. With a smile, Suzie pulled her boyfriend slowing to her room and the two descended onto her bed for another vigorous make-out session.
Afterwards, clad only in a pair of pink silk panties, Suzie lay looking at Michael. He was gazing into her eyes with a playful look, and still had one cupped hand on her bare left breast. “Do you like my boobs?” she asked, taking his hand and pressing it harder onto her barely-an-A-cup tit.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered back with a sly smile, leaning forward and gently kissing a puckered nipple.
She savored the feeling of his lips on her exposed breast-flesh. “Now, I know that I am probably not done ‘growing’ them, if you know what I mean.” Suzie ran her fingers through his hair as Michael moved his head to sample her other nipple. “But I hope they get a lot bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
Suzie thought for a moment, and a grin spread across her face. “Let me show you.” She got up from her bed and slipped back into the T-shirt she had been wearing earlier. Michael watched as she dashed out of the room and into her little brother’s room next door. He could hear her rustling about, and with a definitive “Yes!” she came back into her room with two objects in tow. Two high-floating red helium-filled balloons, both tied with long white ribbons, trailed behind her and she entered and stopped next to her bed. Michael looked up at her, confused.
“How about this size?” Suzie smiled. She held the balloons by their tied mouths up to her chest.
“Ohhhh, yeeaahh!” Michael purred, reaching for the balloons.
Suzie lightly slapped his hand away playfully. “Here”, she said holding the balloons behind her back. “Maybe they will look even better inside my shirt.”
Michael watched as she slowly, seductively pushed one red orb and then the other up into the T-shirt. When she was finished, Suzie placed her hands on her hips and thrust her new endowments outward triumphantly. Michael gaped at her new look, the suddenness of the transformation from skinny underdeveloped youth to voluptuous woman that stood before him amazing him. He was still stretched on the bed, and was unable to see the smile on her face, since her new giant boobs were blocking his view. It looked to him as if her shirt was being stretched by two basketballs that squeaked at each other as they fought for escape.
“What can I say, Suz,” Michael stammered, awe-struck, “but WOW! I have my own inflatable girlfriend, with helium-filled boobs!”
“Inflatable girlfriend, you say?” Suzie responded playfully. “That could be fun!”
She knelt down on the floor next to him, allowing her balloon breasts to hover at his eye-level. Michael reached out, and this time Suzie let him touch them. She giggled sweetly as his groping hands made her inflated boobs squeak. Then she came up with an idea.
“You know, with me being inflatable like this, you are in a very dangerous position,” Suzie remarked with a grin, as his probing fingers felt around where her nipples would normally be.
“Oh, why is that?” Michael asked, smiling, squeezing her balloons together and watching the cleavage they created force its way through the top in the shirt.
“Well, I’m inflatable because you made me that way,” she slyly explained, placing her own hands on her balloon tits. “It was this mystical power you possess that made me blow up like this.”
“Mystical power, eh? Maybe like telekinesis. And just how long have I had the power to inflate women’s breasts?”
“Oh, you are too new at this,” Suzie continued, edging forward on her knee and pressing her balloon boobs right into his face. “I’m the first that this has happened to, which is why my boobs blowing up just now came as such a surprise.”
“Oh, I see,” he smiled, playing along. “But if I’m so young and just realizing what this power can do, what happens if I can’t control this new ability?”
Suzie pulled away, a look of pretend shock on her face. “You must learn how to control your power,” she explain, a note of mock sternness in her voice. “The more you think about me and my inflating boobs, the bigger they get. You will have to restrain your thoughts, or I might inflate too big and….” She hesitated dramatically.
“And what?” Michael cocked an eyebrow.
Suzie purred seductively. “Well, maybe we’ll just have to find out.” She moved further away, making two steps backwards on her knees. “Close you eyes” she instructed at almost a whisper, “and get a mental picture of me.” He obeyed. “Now, picture my breasts the size that they normally are. When you have that, imagine what it would be like if they suddenly started blowing up like a pair of balloons.”
Michael concentrated for a moment. In his mind, he pictured Suzie, as she was when the day had begun. Skinny, but proportional to her small frame, a pleasant smile on her face as they walked among the rides and the game venders at the fair. Though this part hadn’t actually happened, he created the image of them walking up to a man in a clown suit who is selling helium balloons to children. In this concocted memory, Suzie took a large balloon from the man, untied and placed the stem in her mouth, and deeply inhaled the buoyant gas. And in the daydream, Michael watched Suzie smile as her breasts began to swell as the balloon in her mouth deflated. “Alright, I’m there.”
“Okay. Still keep your eyes closed until I tell you otherwise,” Suzie instructed, reserved. She hesitated for a moment, and took in a deep breath. “Sssssssssssssss,” she hissed, quietly at first, then getting loader. “Oh no, Michael,” she feigned surprise with her voice, “My boobs are blowing up like balloons…..Sssssssssssssssssssss…..what’s happening to me?…..Ssssssssssssssssss…..How are you doing this?…..Ssssssssssssssssssss…..they are getting to big, they are the size of beach balls…..Sssssssssssssssss…..”
In his imagination, Michael followed what Suzie was pantomiming. She had completely deflated the balloon, but each hiss the real Suzie made, the Suzie of his thoughts looked down at her chest as her boobs inflated more. Soon the tops of her breasts were pushing out of her shirt and into her chin. “Sssssssssssss….,” she said again, and the imaginary Suzie reached around her burgeoning mammaries to find that she could no longer reach her distended nipples.
“Oh my Gawd, Michael,” Suzie exclaimed, continuing her charade. “My boobs are filling up with helium. And they are getting so big, I think I’m starting to float!” With that, she slowly began to rise from her kneeling position, the balloons under her shirt squeaking as she moved.
To Michael, the imagined Suzie wore a stunned look of surprise as her shirt started to tear down the middle and her balloon breast squeaked in protest to their confinement. But her eyes flew wider as her feet left the ground, her wildly inflated helium boobs pulling her skyward. In his daydream, Michael reached out to catch Suzie as she gained altitude, and in the real world, his hands caught hers as she stood up. Michael was concentrating so hard, and the vision to him was so real, that his head was touched with a slight tingling feeling. To give him the continuing sensation that she was moving away from him, Suzie slowly stepped onto a chair next to the bed, and softly pulled her hand upward and almost out of his grasp. “Catch me Michael,” she said, a hint of mock desperation in her voice, “Control your powers. Don’t let me float away. Save me!”
“Suzie!” Michael called out, groping for her as his grip left hers, still in his trance-like state.
“Michael,” she whispered., “open your eyes.”
Slowly Michael’s eyes flickered open. In that first moment, his forehead tingling like he had received a mild electric shock, he stood at the precipice of awakening with a hint of confusion. And the first thing he saw didn’t help him immediately determine if he was fully awake or still imagining things. He gazed up and saw his girlfriend, standing on the tips of her toes on the seat of the chair, looking like she was hovering above him with her chest thrust upward as if she was about to be pulled toward the ceiling by a pair of helium-filled tits. The vision of that moment was forever burned into his memory, and in later years, Michael thought he actually remembered seeing her feet leave the chair as she pantomimed the act of floating away.
Instead, he grabbed her ankle, causing her to topple onto him. With the two balloons in her shirt smashed between them, Suzie arched her head forward and caught his surprised face in a forceful kiss. Michael returned the embrace, and her air bags squeaked again as he pulled her tighter. “My hero,” she declared when they finally came up for air.
_______________________________________________________
Ten years had gone by for Michael and Suzie by the time they met again. It had been later that year of the balloon boobs incident that Suzie’s parents had moved the family three states away. Suzie came back to town after doing four years of college and launching her career in fashion design, while Michael was in the downhill slide toward finishing medical school when he noticed an article in the local newspaper that Suzie would be showing off her latest work at a coming fashion show. A few phone calls later and a date was made for dinner at a local restaurant to catch up on old times.
Michael’s heart stopped when he saw the new, mature Suzie for the first time. Her long blonde hair was now longer, wavier; her legs were still as long and thin as he remembered. But her eyes carried a look of confidence mixed with youthful mischief that definitely displayed how she had grown into the woman that stood before him.
To Suzie, Michael had changed even more than she had. Taller by several inches than he had been the last time she had seen him, with a muscled chest and arms that dwarfed the scrawny boy she knew before. His brown hair had lightened a bit in the summer sun. Yes, he had changed much since their last meeting, and he was excited to show her just what was new about him.
“Med school?” she quizzed him over a steak dinner. “What discipline?”
Michael laughed. “Would you believe plastic surgery?”
Suzie about choked on a mouthful of meat. “Are you serious?” she asked, amazed. “So you can make as many women’s boobs bigger as they want.”
He flashed a sly smile. “Yes, I guess I’ll be able to.”
Suzie turned thoughtful for a moment. “Do you ever think about that day, after the fair…”
“When you stuck those balloons under your shirt and pretended that they were your real breasts, and then you made me think I was inflating them?” Michael finished for her. “You could say that I have thought about that day a little too often.”
“It must have left quite an impression,” Suzie commented coyly.
“You might say the experience influenced me to go down the career path I have chosen,” Michael explained. “You helped me discover a potential within me that since then I have tried to shape into something I can use in my career field.”
“I influenced you,” she queried, chortling. “By putting balloons in my shirt? And because of that, you will be able to turn other women’s boobs into giant beach balls as a plastic surgeon?”
“In a way, yes,” he answered calmly. Michael noticed the couple at the next table looking skeptically over at them, and chose to ignore the probing stares. “But, do you remember what you told me, how you described why your breasts were inflating that day?”
Suzie thought for a moment. “Yes,” she said stoically, “I told you that you had some strange, mystical power that caused women’s breasts to inflate like helium balloons. Why do you ask?”
“Because it came true.”
“What came true?” she repeated, cocking an eyebrow.
Michael lowered his voice. “It is some kind of mental discipline, like telepathy or telekinesis. If I concentrate hard enough, I can make your breasts grow.”
Suzie dropped her napkin. This was not the kind of date she had planned for. “Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I am not impressed.”
Michael leaned a little closer. “Think about it. Breast augmentation without silicon or sutures. The potential money I can make is astounding. I just need the schooling to get the license to do the work.”
Suzie looked away; making sure that the intrusive couple next to them was not hearing this incredible work of fiction. Then she decided to play along. “So, you are telling me that all you have to do is think real hard about a certain woman’s breasts, and they blow up like a pair of balloons.”
“Yes,” he answered, a look of seriousness in his eyes.
She leaned toward him. “Could you inflate me?” Suzie asked softly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “As you can see, I didn’t exactly grow up to match the size of those balloons I stuffed into my shirt that day. I could use the help.”
“What, right here?” he questioned. “Right now?”
“Why not?” Suzie countered, wanting to see just how far his charade would go. “Or doesn’t your secret power work in public places?”
Michael hesitated. “If that is what it would take for you to believe me, I’ll do it.”
Suzie’s taunting grin spread even wider. “Go ahead, make my day.”
Michael took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. He looked Suzie over very carefully, taking in the dimensions he desired, and closed his eyes. Again, his mind drifted back to that day a decade ago, when he first pictured Suzie at the fair, sucking the helium out of a balloon and the ensuing vision. He replaced the young Suzie of sixteen years with the mature Suzie of twenty-six in his imagination, and as he had experimented with, he pictured the gas traveling to her breasts and causing expansion. In his mind, her boobs slowly swelled with a faint hiss, their volume doubling and tripling within seconds. The next image was of Suzie towering over him with hugely inflated mammaries, standing on her tiptoes as if she were about to fly away. Michael was concentrating so hard that his forehead began to tingle, the sensation he was waiting for, and that was the signal that the process was about to begin.
He opened his eyes and met Suzie’s scrutinizing gaze. In his mind he still played out the scene of her expanding breasts, and watched as it happened in the real world. Suzie’s red blouse, covering two perky B-cup tits, began to tighten as the inflation started.
Suzie jumped slightly as the sensation began at her nipples and descended across her breast flesh. Like the feeling of tiny fingers dancing on her skin, she looked down at her chest to make sure a colony of ants weren’t crawling on her. She gaped at seeing her blouse shift forward. As she gazed, dumbstruck, her breasts blew up past a D-cup and continued to grow. “Are you doing this?” she asked without looking up, a hint of fear in her voice.
“You asked me to do it,” Michael relied calmly, his head throbbing slightly from the concentration.
“Yes, but” she stammered, “I didn’t believe that you could.” The gaps between the buttonholes of her blouse were beginning to strain and pull apart as her boobs continued to expand unabated. The couple next to them hadn’t noticed Suzie’s predicament, yet, but a waiter that passed them got a good look at her new endowments.
Michael’s gaze had not left Suzie’s face, though she was concentrating on something else entirely. She could feel her breast flesh stretching, and could almost detect a slight hissing sound over the din of the restaurant. Her B-cup bra was straining to keep her growth in check, but it took the top button of her blouse bursting off into oblivion before she realized just how big she was getting.
“Okay, I believe you. I’m bigger than I ever wanted to be,” she said through clenched teeth. “You can shut it off now.”
Michael was looking like has was in a trance. She had seen that look before. “Hey,” she exclaimed, throwing a spoon at his head. “I said it’ enough. Make it stop.”
The spoon had the desired effect. Michael snapped out of his reverie, and saw what his handiwork had done. Suzie sat across the table from him, a look of panic in her face, her arms draped across a pair of enormous tits that continued to push their way out of the too-small bra and out of her shirt. She was trying to shield them from being spied by other diners, but it was getting harder to do so as they hadn’t slowed their growth yet.
“Michael, I’m still blowing up,” she stammered, unable to surround her breasts with her arms any longer. They were the size of volleyballs, and still inflating, as he realized his mistake.
“Oh no,” he thought. “Not again.”
Michael pinched his eyes shut and forced a new image into his mind: one of Suzie deflating, diminishing back to her original size. But Suzie’s second and third button burst off her blouse in rapid succession, one bouncing painfully off of Michael’s forehead that interrupted his train of thought. He opened his eyes and was met by a vision of two basketball-sized boobs being contained by one severely strained bra. Suzie’s face could not be seen over the inflating mounds of flesh, but he could hear her call frantically to him. “Make it stop! Make it stop!”
Her black lace bra quivered just before it exploded off her giant tits. It shot across the room and landed in a stunned man’s fettuccini. Freed from their captor, Suzie’s bare breasts expanded even faster, and she got up to make a dash for the door. Michael jumped up after her, holding his jacket out in front of her inflating chest to cover them up. But her enormous boobs, with her nipples aimed skyward, prevented her from seeing where she was running, and people had to leap out of the way of the inflating woman and her frazzled date as she bumped into multiple tables on her way to the exit. Michael took Suzie’s hand and led her toward the main door to the atrium entrance and through a crowd of gawking patrons.
As they stepped through the door, Suzie slipped. At least she thought she had slipped. But instead of falling, her feet lost contact with the concrete floor of the atrium as her inflated breasts carried her upward. “What the….” She cried, groping for her date’s hand. “Michael, grab me. I’m floating away!”
Suzie was rising off the ground so fast that all Michael had time to grab was a single leg. He anchored her, stabilized, and tried to grasp Suzie around the waist. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say, Her response was muffled by the cleavage that was pressing into her face. The inflation still had not stopped, but continued to blow her up to near weather balloon size. The upward pull of her breasts became so forceful that soon Michael was not longer on the ground, and they both began the slow rising toward the glass ceiling of the atrium.
Michael soon began to loose his grip on Suzie. “I can’t hold onto you much longer,” he said apologetically. “My grip is about to give out.”
“Don’t you let go of me!” Suzie exclaimed, flailing her arms in frustration.
Despite every effort, Michael’s hand strength gave out. “Sorry!” he cried as he fell ten feet into a gooseberry bush. With the loss of his weight, Suzie screamed and shot for the ceiling, her tits bumping into the streaked glass and sliding toward the uppermost point of the room.
Michael got up, rubbing his wounded neck and back. He looked up to see his old girlfriend with ten-foot-round tits laughing hysterically while pinned to the ceiling of a restaurant’s atrium. It was the most odd and magnificent thing he had ever seen. It was then that he noticed that his forehead not longer tingled. “I guess I can tell you now that you are no longer inflating. Getting you down will be another matter.”
Suzie’s nipples were pressed against the cold glass, but that was the least of her worries. She was twenty feet off the ground and half-naked, and diners were still watching them through the glass walls. “Well, I guess I deserved this for putting it into your head all those years ago about secret powers.”
Michael chuckled nervously. “You may have planted the seed of this ability, but you weren’t the one making your boobs blow up.”
“But I was right even back then,” Suzie stated, wiggling her feet in the air.
“And what would that be?”
Suzie looked down at Michael with a wry smile. “That this power could be dangerous if you didn’t have it under control.”
Note: To understand this story, you might want to read (or reread) one I wrote several years ago, named “Control”, which given the origin of Michael and Suzie.
Michael sat under the shade of an oak tree. Scattered around him lay the various books of his discipline, a laptop, and a notebook that had this week’s notes transcribed from his professors’ lectures. It was Friday, and the week of exhaustive schoolwork and internship had finally taken its toll. He was beyond tired, and being stretched out on the soft grass of the campus quad in the shade was enough of a lullaby to put him over the edge. With two hours until his next class, he allowed himself to doze.
Have you ever noticed that what you were thinking about or doing just before going to sleep then influences what you dream about?
The most lucrative part of plastic surgery, which he was in school to learn, is breast enhancement. It was something that an old girlfriend, Suzie, had turned him onto when they were teens. She had placed helium balloons under her shirt to simulate the breast she wanted to have, to amuse him. Suzie had told a hypnotized Michael that he had a ‘special power’, which meant that he had the ability to cause her breast to inflate with helium until she would begin to float, and in his trance-like state, he had believed her.
Michael was so convinced of this power, that he gathered all the information he could find on telekinesis and telemorphosis, and began experimenting. The first time it worked, he was in a study group with other pre-med students. He was concentrating hard on one of the under-endowed female students, Jenny, envisioning her breasts swelling, like he did with Suzie as a teen, so much so that his brain, under so much straining, began tingling strangely. A sudden startled gasp and a button from her shirt hitting him in the face brought Michael out of his stunned trance. And there Jenny sat, the top button of her blouse missing and the others straining to contain her new E-cup boobs, with a surprised smile on her face while the rest of the group gaped at her. She never worried about filling out a bathing suit or needing to use a floatation device again.
But as he began to nod off under the tree, months later, it was back to his first experience with Suzie that his mind wandered.
He began to dream of that day. She had told him to close his eyes, and Suzie began to play act what would be her response if Michael had the power to make her breasts inflate with helium. She acted startled at first, making a hissing sound as if her breasts were filling from a helium tank, and had slowly rose up onto a chair high above him as if she was gently flying like a balloon, and she had cried to him to catch her hand so that she didn’t float away. He had opened his eyes to the vision of Suzie almost hovering above him, only tethered from floating off by his firm grip, all the while his head buzzing.
Like what happened that day, and his experiment with Jenny, his head began to tingle while he drifted through the dream.
A girl walking passed the sleeping Michael suddenly stopped, an unfamiliar sensation spreading across her chest. Like a hundred fingers caressing her at the same time, she gasped at the palpation, dropping the books she carried in startled surprise. Her hands pulled her red shirt forward, and she looked down to make sure no insect or foreign body had fallen into her exposed cleavage, and that was when she noticed her breasts expanding rapidly into the shrinking cups of her bra.
Another rolled passed Michael on the sidewalk, rollerblading to her fitness class in the next building. As her boobs began to grow, her tight sports bra couldn’t handle much volume and began immediately to tear at the seams.
Another woman, taking advantage of the spring sunshine, was like him asleep twenty feet away. Dressed only in shorts and a bikini top, her breasts began to inflate. The sensation of expansion wasn’t enough to wake her, though her twin towers blew increasingly upward, her nipples soon escaping her top and pointing resolutely at the sky.
The first one, not noticing the predicament of the other two yet, wrapped her arms around her burgeoning boobs, trying to push the swelling back down, to no avail. Bigger and bigger she became, and as her red shirt became smaller, unable to contain her growth, more cleavage was forced through the opening in her shirt and up toward her face.
The rollerblader stopped in her tracks when the sports bra tightened and came apart. Noticing for the first time what was happening, she covered her expansion with her arms, but resisted the impulse to call out for help, since this would just bring more attention to her plight. As she grasped her breasts, they grew more, pushing her arms outward and upward.
The sunbather barely flinched when the string holding the cups of her bikini top together snapped. They were made to cover up her AA cup boobs, but quickly were overwhelmed with the new inflation. Higher and higher her nipples protruded, aiming for the clouds. Because of her small, lithe frame, and being the least garbed, she was the first to become airborne. Her shoulders lifted from the blanket she was lying on, her breasts now surpassing three feet round, pulling her up into a sitting position before her posterior lost contact with the ground as well. It was then that, as her feet left the earth, she woke up and noticed the weather balloon-sized breast flesh that was pushing into her face as she floated upward. She screamed, flailing her arms and legs in the air.
The first one’s shirt gave up, exploding the last three buttons at one. Her B-cup bra snapped mid-cleavage, and with her breasts now free, the expansion proceeded unrestrained. Back arching, her endowments pulled skyward forcefully. Soon she was on the tips of her toes, and then she couldn’t feel the grass under her feet anymore. “Ah….help!” she exclaimed weakly, but the only ones nearby that could hear her were the two other women, both also inflating, and a sleeping man under a nearby tree.
The blader was the last to ascend. Weighted by the rollerblades on her feet, she tried skimming away from the others, though with her towering tits floating up into her face, she couldn’t see where she was going. She was even bigger than the others when she finally lost her battle with gravity, and began to buoyantly rise.
“Hey, you!” she screamed at the lounging guy under the tree. When he didn’t respond or move, she risked removing some of her ballast and took off the helmet she always wore when rollerblading. Taking the helmet in her right hand, looking left passed her growing boobs, she through it wildly in Michael’s direction.
The helmet bounced once one the grass and hit him in the side of the head. “What the…” he said, sitting up abruptly, looking around angrily for his attacker. Then he noticed the three women in various stages of buoyancy. “Oh shit!”
Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands to the side of his head, he began to mumble to himself. “Deflate, deflate, deflate…” he kept willing it to happen, but the three screaming ladies prevented him from concentrating enough to cause the tingling again. The one in red and the sunbather had already floated up fifteen feet, well out of his vertical range, but the one in rollerblades was only eight feet up, and he ran, leaping, and grabbed one boot before she sailed any higher.
His added weight pulled her downward. Their inflation had stopped when he woke up, so thankfully they weren’t continuing to blow up more. But as Michael descended with one, the other two were still hovering, drifting southward with a slight breeze. “Sorry!” he yelled to them, helpless to be able to do anything for them.
“Don’t let go of me!” the girl demanded as they slowly sunk back to the ground. When his feet felt touchdown, Michael was able to pull her further down, wrapping his hands around her waist to prevent her from floating away. “Thank you!” she explained, relief flooding through her. She grabbed him in a strong embrace, pulling him into the deep canyon of her cleavage until his head popped through next to her face, and planted a long, passionate kiss on his lips. “My hero,” she whispered to him, a note of awe and appreciation in her voice. “How can I ever repay you?”
Michael smiled, letting his imagination run. “I can think of a couple of things…,” he said, wrapping his arms around where her inflated tits connected to the rest of her and giving a good squeeze.
Though they never floated any higher that about twenty feet off the ground, the other two still had to be rescued. The woman in red caught onto the branches of a tall tree about a mile from the campus and had to be brought down by the fire department’s ladder truck. The sunbather drifted passed the windows of an office building and was able to capture and cling to the rail of a fire escape until a lawyer from the neighboring office was able to bring back to earth. All three women had to be taken to the local hospital to be properly punctured to release the buoyant gas that, without explanation, somehow had built up in their breasts and caused them to inflate and float. After extensive investigation, no hypothesis was ever reached on what some people are now calling SBIS (Spontaneous Breast Inflation Syndrome), having found no causative agent. Nor were there any other similar events ever occurring to show a pattern.
But Michael knew what he was going to do with this ‘special power’. Definitely breast augmentation. If only he could learn to control it.
Control 3: Private Practice
To understand the background of this story, you might consider reading my other works “Control” and “Control 2: The College Years”.
“So, I heard you have a special procedure,” Mrs. Fitz said, making a rolling gesture with her hands. She was obviously hinting at something hidden, unspoken.
Michael leaned back in his chair, unsure precisely what she was referring to. “What do you mean?” he questioned. “All we do here at the Better You Clinic is on the up-and-up (pun intended, he thought to himself with an inward smile). All of our equipment is approved by the Food and Drug Administration, and all procedures that we here do are have been certified by the American Board of Plastic Surgery.”
Jennifer Fitz sighed, a little disappointed. “It’s just that…well…I have a friend who came here for some work, and…”
Awkward silence. “Go ahead,” he said, but had a feeling about where this conversation was headed.
She looked down at her hands, gathering courage. “I came here because I have lost so much weight that I have lots of empty, excess skin that needs to be removed,” Jennifer said, looking up at the doctor with a look of hope. “But one of the first places I lost the fat from was my breasts. I went from a 44DD to what I am now. I was measured for a new bra last week, and I am down to a 38B. My breasts are the two things I and my husband miss the most. I don’t fill out swimsuits anymore; they just look like a couple of half-empty old shriveled balloons hanging from my chest.”
“Then I take it that you are interested in breast implants?” he advanced. “We can place them on the same day when we remove the excess skin. It’s much better to do the two procedures together, rather than on separate times. It keeps the recovery time shorter.”
“The skin work needs to be done, but…”
Dr. Michael Wilkes, board-certified plastic surgeon, had no time for patients who had fortitude to come here and then lost their nerve when they tried to talk to him about their needs. “Out with it,” he demanded rather impatiently.
“Listen, my friend named Brittany Booth said you did some breast augmentation on her last year, and were able to do it without incisions or scarring. I want you to do the same to me.”
Michael groaned inwardly. He had been in private practice for a couple of years now, and had done the special procedure several times, with an agreement with the patients that they would be discreet about the specifics of the procedure itself. Word of mouth advertising sinks or sails a business, and as long as the customers of his work were happy, they were able to talk about it with friends, show off his handiwork, and hopefully get some referrals. But ‘Busty Brittany’ had gone too far. She not only wanted his work to make her much bigger than any implant was made for, and was happy to pay handsomely for her new oversized endowments, but had also been telling too many people that her enhancements were light as air, not causing any back strain, and that it was all done without an incision.
He had wanted to keep the number of special procedures to a minimum, but Busty was going overboard with telling her friends about it (and showing them her new fem-balloons as often as they asked to see them). Mrs. Fitz was not the first one in the last month to come see him, drop Brittany’s name as a reference, and request his off-the-books undertaking. “I’m listening,” he said, subdued.
“I don’t want them as big as hers,” Jennifer explained. “Just back to the original size, before the weight loss. Brittany actually let me touch her breasts, and I noticed that they weren’t heavy at all, like saline implants. In fact, they hung and bounced like air-filled balloons.” She leaned forward to stress her point. “I want ones just like them. Not as big, but that type.”
Michael shook his head. “Are you sure…”
“I can pay, in cash, up front, so to speak; it doesn’t matter the cost,” she countered, determined. “And I can keep a secret a hell of a lot better than Brittany ever could.”
He hesitated, and with a sigh, gave in. This is getting out of hand, he thought, edging up to his computer to check his surgery schedule. “When would you like to have this done?”
Jennifer smiled. “The next open day you have.”
The excess skin removal part of the surgery went well. The drooping epidermis from under her arms and legs was gone. A tummy tuck completed as well. Jane, Michael’s surgical nurse, assisted him, while Betty the surgical scrub tech would hand him instruments and sponges, keeping track of everything used. The three had conferenced before the surgery, and had come up with the idea of a prank on the newest member of their team, Amy, the newly hired surgical nurse in training. Amy had yet to witness Michael’s special procedure, and the plan was to make her a big part of the event.
Jane had made sure that she, Betty, and Amy were all wearing surgical scrubs that were four times larger than needed. Jane told Amy that Dr. Wilkes always insisted that they wear oversized scrubs, just in case something happened during surgery. When Amy had asked why, Jane said that accidents can happen, and left it at that.
The patient was asleep, a tube into her trachea keeping her breathing. All the drapes had been removed, exposing the last part of Jennifer’s anatomy that was going to be worked on. “Calling for a time out,” Jane announced. “When we are about to begin a new part of the procedure, we always call a time out, to make sure we have everything we need before going on,” she explained to Amy.
“I know what a ‘time out’ is for, during surgery,” Amy responded, feeling demeaned. “But where are the surgical tools and the implants we are giving the patient?”
“There are no implants,” Betty said, hiding a smile under her surgical mask.
“But I thought she was getting breast augmentation,” Amy said. “She is too small to be needing a reduction, so she is obviously going bigger, which means implants.”
“Not this time,” Jane said nonchalantly, turning to Michael. “Ready?”
“Ready,” the surgeon replied, trying to keep from laughing. “Let’s blow her up and see if she floats.”
Jane leaned over to Amy. “Watch carefully, but don’t do anything to break his concentration. That’s when accidents can happen.”
Michael closed his eyes. He had been perfecting his special power for a few years now, and had only had one lapse in his control since graduating from med school. It was recently that he had reunited with his middle school first love, Suzie, and that incident had left the two of them permanently scarred, but they had laughed about it later. Suzie had to be brought to the clinic later that night to get her back to her usual size, and to be able to walk without hovering, but had been a great sport through it all.
As he concentrated, he held his breath and waited for the sign that his power was activating. A slight tingle in his forehead started on command, and he opened his eyes to begin the next phase. “All set,” he announced.
Slowly, Jennifer’s breasts started to rise. Like a pair of helium balloons on the nozzle of a tank, they rose proudly, twin towers inflating, limp skin stretching and filling. Just as they reached the desired size, Amy’s eyes flew wide. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, pointing. “Her boobs are blowing up like a couple of blimps! How is that happening?”
Michael shot a fiery glance at the nurse in training, his eyes out of focus, trance-like. “Oh no!” Jane said loudly, in mock anger. “You broke his concentration. You don’t know what you’ve done!”
Jennifer’s chest suddenly began to inflate faster. Betty grabbed Michael’s arm. “Doctor, you need to make it stop!” she shouted. “You don’t want to lose control, and have it happen again!”
“Again? What do you mean?” Amy asked, scared. ” What happened before?”
“The reason we always wear loose clothing around here, when Doctor Wilkes in doing surgery.” Jane said.
“What do you mean..,” Amy’s question was cut short. Her chest began to tingle, like dozens of tiny fingers were touching her at the same time across her breasts. She gasped at the sensation, and grabbed her boobs through her baggy scrub top, feeling the beginning of their expansion.
“Too late!” Betty yelped. Amy turned to her, noticing Betty’s chest as it surged forward. Jane’s breasts began to inflate as well. “When someone disturbs him while he is concentrating on the patient, we ALL start blowing up!” Betty said in a high, squeaky voice.
Amy’s small bra was being overcrowded quickly as she and the other two women grew rapidly. “Make it stop!” she demanded as her boobs passed F-cup size, causing her bra to snap.
“This is why I told you NOT to wear a bra,” Jane said, her scrub top already reaching capacity. Breast flesh was pushing out of the neck hole of the scrub top and into her chin. Amy was growing faster than the others. “You had better hold onto something!” Jane said.
“Hold onto something? What for?” Amy screamed, her scrub top coming untucked as her breasts rose up into her face. That was when her feet left the floor. “Whoa!” she yelped, arms flailing, trying to grab the edge of the surgical table as she floated up, and missed. “Help me!”
In her panic, Amy hadn’t noticed that the patient’s inflation had stopped at a size only a little bigger than planned, and that the other two women had also ceased blowing up. She continued screaming, arms and legs flailing in the empty air, until her head gently connected to the ceiling of the surgical suite. Her beachball-sized breasts pushed into her face. “I don’t want to be a helium balloon! Get me down!”
All three conscious people in the room burst into laughter. Jane and Betty were already shrinking back to normal, and the patient deflated to her requested DD size. Michael was laughing so hard that he started crying, while watching Amy kick her feet in the air above him. “Alright, doctor” Jane said with a snicker. “You should bring her down now.”
“If you insist,” Michael said, calming his mirth. Shifting his focus, he concentrated on the floating nurse and issued a mental command. Slowly she began to deflate and descend, her feet soon reconnecting with the floor. “Why did you do that?” Amy snapped angrily.
Jane smiled big, removing her surgical mask. “We do that to all of our new employees,” she said, suppressing another giggle. “It’s sort of an initiation. Welcome to the club.”
“And if you ever tell anyone about this, about what I can do,” Michael said, a note of mock seriousness in his voice, “I will do it again, making you blow up in public and let you float away, never to be found. Understand?”
Amy’s breathing was calming. “I swear I will never tell!”
A moment of uncomfortable silence went between the two. Michael burst into laughter again. “I’m just messing with you!” he blurted, Jane and Betty joining him.
“But seriously, if you tell anyone, I will inflate you again and leave you that way permanently!”
Amy swallowed nervously. “But, what if I kinda liked it?” she asked, placing her hands on her still slightly inflated boobs.
Jane put her arm around Amy’s shoulder. “Then you will fit in here just fine.”
Control 4: Dreaming
Michael’s mind drifted as he closed his eyes.
The memory that lingered was one that he had dwelt on many times. At the time that the memory had been created, his interest had been piqued by the chance to see an old flame. He hadn’t seen Suzie since they were teenagers. Now that he had graduated medical school and had start his surgical practice, her possibly coming back into his life was a pleasant surprise. Those old-school feelings of his first girl-crush bubbled up when she had somehow found his phone number and called him. That had led them to the infamously disastrous dinner date, where Michael had almost lost Suzie again.
The event had ended up being a catalyst to a great relationship. That was what his mind wanted to relive.
They sat across the table from each other, reminiscing about their teenaged love of many years ago, and filling in the blanks to each other as to the direction life had taken them gone since those days of yesteryear. Suzie told him about her schooling in fashion design, which had brought her back to their hometown for this chance meeting, and Michael telling her about medical school and the recent opening of him plastic surgery practice. She joked with him about his teenaged fascination with breasts, and how this new career would let him play with and alter as many of them as he wanted. She reminded him of the day he had taken her to the local fair, when afterwards teenaged Suzie had stuffed helium balloons into her shirt and admitted that she eventually wanted boobs the size of those balloons. They had roll-played with each other, imagining her real breasts blowing up like balloons until they had become so big that the helium inside them had caused her to float, and how Michael had to catch her before she flew away. It was then that his fascination with breasts had added the word ‘inflatable’ to his vernacular, and the obsession had led to the discovery of his ‘special power’.
He could make women’s breasts inflate with the power of his mind, and he used that power as part of his body-sculpting medical practice. Suzie didn’t believe him at first, daring him to make her breasts ‘blow up’ in an effort to expose him as a fraud. But when her chest began to rise and expand, she became an instant believer. Though the demonstration of his power was very convincing, it took a bad turn and went comically, embarrassingly wrong. It was the single time since his college days that his control of the power had slipped, and Michael watched helplessly as Suzie’s boobs inflated out of control in the middle of the restaurant, bursting out of her blouse as onlookers watched. When they tried to escape, she had blown up so big that her breasts, like twin blimps, had pulled her off the ground and she floated to the ceiling. Later, Michael had succeeded in pulling her down and getting her over to his medical clinic and was able to deflate her back to her original size.
Most girls would have panicked and run from such an event. Suzie laughed it off and stuck around, and now, a year later, they were married and sharing a home.
The memory centered on the conversation they were having during that dinner, just before the inflation started. “Do you ever think about that day, after the fair…”, Suzie had asked.
“When you stuck those balloons under your shirt and pretended that they were your real breasts, and then you made me think I was inflating them?” Michael finished for her. “You could say that I have thought about that day a little too often.”
“It must have left quite an impression,” Suzie commented coyly.
“You might say the experience influenced me to go down the career path I have chosen,” Michael explained. “You helped me discover a potential within me that since then I have tried to shape into something I can use in my career field.”
“I influenced you,” she queried, chortling. “By putting balloons in my shirt? And because of that, you will be able to turn other women’s boobs into giant beach balls as a plastic surgeon?”
“In a way, yes,” he answered calmly. Michael noticed the couple at the next table looking skeptically over at them, and chose to ignore the probing stares. “But, do you remember what you told me, how you described why your breasts were inflating that day?”
Suzie thought for a moment. “Yes,” she said stoically, “I told you that you had some strange, mystical power that caused women’s breasts to inflate like helium balloons. Why do you ask?”
“Because it came true.”
“What came true?” she repeated, cocking an eyebrow.
Michael lowered his voice. “It is some kind of mental discipline, like telepathy or telekinesis. If I concentrate hard enough, I can make your breasts grow.”
Suzie dropped her napkin. This was not the kind of date she had planned for. “Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I am not impressed.”
Michael leaned a little closer. “Think about it. Breast augmentation without silicon or sutures. The potential money I can make is astounding. I just need the schooling to get the license to do the work.”
Suzie looked away; making sure that the intrusive couple next to them was not hearing this incredible work of fiction. Then she decided to play along. “So, you are telling me that all you have to do is think real hard about a certain woman’s breasts, and they blow up like a pair of balloons.”
“Yes,” he answered, a look of seriousness in his eyes.
She leaned toward him. “Could you inflate me?” Suzie asked softly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “As you can see, I didn’t exactly grow up to match the size of those balloons I stuffed into my shirt that day. I could use the help.”
“What, right here?” he questioned. “Right now?”
“Why not?” Suzie countered, wanting to see just how far his charade would go. “Or doesn’t your secret power work in public places?”
Michael hesitated. “If that is what it would take for you to believe me, I’ll do it.”
Suzie’s taunting grin spread even wider. “Go ahead, make my day.”
It was at this point, though, that the true memory ended, and the nightmare began.
Michael began concentrating, willing his power into action. Suzie gasped, feeling her breasts expand inside her shirt, just as he had predicted. But they were blowing up much faster this time. “Whoa, slow it down, Mister Goodyear. You’ve convinced me. Now make it stop before my blimps bust out of my blouse,” she demanded, discreetly.
Too late, her top button snapped and went flying across the dining room. “I said ‘make it stop’!” she said more loudly. Several people around them turned to look as the next set of straining buttons popped in succession, breast flesh pushing through the widening gap and up under her chin. Michael, still in his self-induced trance, was oblivious to what she was saying. And neither one of them heard the startled gasps and expressions of surprise as the range of his power began to widen and spread to neighboring tables.
Starting with the couples sitting closest to them, every woman in the room started to inflate. By this time, Suzie’s bra clasps had given up the fight and had exploded across the table into Michael’s face. Her shirt hung in tatters as her breasts began to float upward, obscuring her vision. “Hey, Doctor Frankenstein, wake up!” she yelled, flinging a spoon at him, striking the dazed man in the forehead and breaking his concentration. “Look what you’ve done to me!” she screamed. “And look around and see what the lack of control of you power has done to everyone else.”
Michael, feeling like he was just waking from a dream, could do nothing but watch as Suzie expanded more. His body felt like lead, heavy and unmovable as he tried in vain to reach for her as she floated out of her seat, dragged skyward by her boob balloons. Then he looked to her left and saw that several other women were experiencing the same effect, with their breasts inflating under their fancy formal gowns and cocktail dresses. The air was filled with the sound of the steady hissing of inflating balloons and ripping fabric, while the men sat immobile, helplessly watching their women floating upward toward the high ceiling and away from them. The women screamed and kicked their startled rage as they slowly ascended, while Michael could only watch in stunned horror at the spectacle he created. They bumped into each other, bouncing in all directions as the women settled among the florescent ceiling lights with a sound not unlike a clutch of balloons fighting for space at the end of a single tether.
Suzie, though, had not risen to the heights like the others. She seemed to be suspended in the air, half-way between the floor and the ceiling, slowly rotating like a balloon on a string. Her helium tits pointing straight up, she had to turn her head sideways in order to face him. “Michael!” she called to him “Babe!
He looked up at her. “When it is convenient, would you mind getting yourself under control and deflating all of us?!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure we would all like to be on the ground in the next day or two!”
Michael’s eyelids became heavy, his reaction slow. “But I can’t,” he mumbled. “I don’t have control of my power.”
Suzie glared, the other women begging for help above her. “Listen, mister. You have better wake up right now and get control of yourself, and get us down!”
Instead, Michael closed his eyes, and slumping, laid his head on the table. “Maybe later,” he said, his speech slurring. “I’m too tired right now.”
Angrily, Suzie flailed her arms and legs in the air. “Babe!” she screamed, trying to keep his attention. “Wake up!”
Babe…
Wake up…
Wake up…
Michael sat up with a gasp. He was back in his bedroom at home, the afternoon sun streaming in through the window in the far wall. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs of sleep from it, and dwelled on the imagery of the bazaar dream he had just awakened from. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and he and Suzie had laid down for a short nap less than an hour before. He turned and noticed that Suzie was no longer in bed with him. He stretched and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before rising from the bed, going to look for his wife.
That was when he bumped his head into a pair of dangling feet.
His eyes followed the feet up the long legs to where they met at a pair of black lace panties that covered a shapely, recognizable ass. Gazing up further, he could see two arms protruding from either side of two massive domes of tit flesh that were topped by overstretched nipples that were brushing the bedroom ceiling. Suzie’s face was hidden behind her helium-filled mounds, but he could hear her voice just fine.
Exasperated, she spoke with a forced calm between clenched teeth. “When it is convenient, would you mind getting yourself under control and deflating me?” she said, hands grasping the rounded sides of her weather balloon-sized breasts. “This is getting a little old. This is the second time this week, and the fourth time in a month that I have woken up being tits-up on the ceiling.”
Flushing, he rasped “I’m am SO sorry!” as he grabbed her ankles and tried to pull her down. Suzie was too buoyant, pinned to the ceiling by her flesh balloons, his weight unable to pull her from the height. “Give me a minute,” he mumbled, settling to the side of the bed, and, concentrating, issued a mental command.
There was an audible release of pressure, like a tire loosing air, and Suzie slowly began to shrink and descend. When she was able to touch the carpeted floor, she maneuvered herself over next to her husband, her still slightly inflated boobs bobbing up and down as she moved. She put a reassuring hand on his, placing the other arm across the top of her bloated tits and pushing them down so she could talk without the floating obstructions in her way. “You were dreaming about our first time again, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Michael answered, abashed.
“Then you need to extent your control into your dreams, apparently,” she sighed. “Every time you dream about that, I end up waking up and finding myself floating under a pair of skin blimps. Honestly, my nipples are sore from rubbing the ceiling tiles!”
Michael hung his head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” he said, humbled.
Suzie snuggled up close to him. “I’ll tell you what. You can blow me up again later. I love the feel of these helium hooters getting bigger and bigger, but I prefer to be awake for it.” She leaned in and whispered seductively in his ear. “And maybe we can figure out how you can ride your balloon girl and have a little floating fun…”
That sent a tremble of excitement through him. Michael had always wanted to try sex in zero gravity, and that would be the closest to it. “Deal,” he whispered back, placing a hand on an inflated mammary and gently squeezing.
Control 5: The Beach
“I can’t believe it,” huffed Suzie. “That’s that same woman!”
Michael stifled a growl. All he wanted was a peaceful weekend, being off call for the clinic, and to spend the day at the beach with his wife. Their car was packed for a lazy day in the sun and surf: towels, blankets, beach chairs, a cooler full of cold drinks and sandwiches, and a large umbrella to give them shade so they could relax and read books on their Kindles when not in the water. But Venice Beach was jammed with people, all coming out to enjoy the first warm, non-rainy Saturday in the last month. So they moved north to Santa Monica beach, fighting traffic all the way there, almost in a crash with a yellow convertible along the way, until they reached the bustling parking lot. He had spotted a car leaving a parking space, and casually waited for the car to depart before moving to take the space. The same yellow convertible that had almost caused the accident five minutes before came flying around the corner from the other direction, almost clipping Michael’s classic 1967 Ford Mustang, and screeched to a halt in the space he was aiming for.
“Too slow, moron!” the convertible’s driver yelled, waving. She was a fiery Latina, with long straight dark brown hair that almost matched her complexion, wearing a long white beach cover-up over a swimsuit. Her passenger, a tall blonde, laughed at the couple in the Mustang, and flipped them off when Michael honked his horn at the two women in frustration. Giving up, Michael moved on, and eventually found another spot to park his car.
They unloaded their gear, Suzie grumbling angrily about what had happened, and moved towards the sand. Santa Monica beach, in the shade of the world-famous pier, was just as packed as the one they left in Venice. So they had to drag their stuff quite a distance through the hot sand before spotting an open area big enough to spread out the blankets, chairs, and umbrella. But as they approached, Suzie saw that they would have competition for the choice beach spot. “I can’t believe it,” Suzie turned to her husband. “It’s that same woman!”
“And it looks like they are headed to the same place we are,” Michael said through gritted teeth as he dragged the heavy cooler and umbrella. The Latina and her blonde accomplice were headed in the same direction, and both groups increased their pace. Suzie pulled away from Michael, racing ahead and planted the beach chairs in the same to claim the spot.
“Oh no you didn’t,” Latina wagged a finger at Suzie. “This is our spot!”
“We saw it first, bitch” declared Blondie, dropping a towel on the sand defiantly.
“Too slow, moron,” Suzie echoed, smiling haughtily at the karma of the situation. Michael caught up to her and dumped his burden. He maneuvered the cooler between the women that were staring daggers at each other, and winked at his wife. “I think there’s room enough for all of us,” he said, trying to play the peacekeeper. “Unless you ladies want to go somewhere else.”
“We aren’t moving,” Latina said, placing both hands on her hips.
“And neither are we,” Suzie responded, copying the other’s stance. They both continued to stare each other down as Michael popped the umbrella open and planted it into the sand behind their beach chairs and sat with a loud sigh of satisfaction, tugging on a baseball cap and donning sunglasses while waiting for the women to resolve their issues.
Finally, Latina gave in and broke the stare, but still refused to move on. “Alright, like he said, there’s enough room for all of us.” She dropped the towel that was rolled up under her arm and spread it out on the sand, dangerously close to Suzie’s feet and daring her to do something about it, mumbling a string of harsh words in Spanish as she did. Michael knew that Suzie understood every word Latina was saying, and was holding back bravely from responding in kind.
Instead, Suzie moved next to her husband and began to undress. Slipping off her shorts and t-shirt, she exposed the blue bikini she wore underneath. It was one of her own design, a style that had begun being sold at several major retail stores around the country last summer. “Hey, Esparanza, look!” Blondie said, pointing at Suzie. “You two are twins!”
Suzie looked over to see the Latina, Esparanza, pulling off her white beach cover-up to show that she was indeed wearing the same swimsuit, even in the same color.
“Shut up, Amanda!” she said, throwing the cover-up in her friend’s face. “I would not be caught dead wearing the same thing that she is.”
“Check your pulse, then,” Michael said nonchalantly, pulling off his t-shirt and stretching as he sat in his chair, “because you are wearing a suit from Ba-Luna Fashions.”
“How would you know?” smirked Esparanza, looking over her shoulder at him haughtily.
Michael smiled. “You could say I am intimately familiar with the clothing line,” he said with a mischievous wink, “and the designer.”
“Well, hurray for you,” Esparanza replied, snarky. “Anyway, I wear it better than you.”
“True that!” Amanda barked, slapping each other with a high-5 for the cutting comment.
The Latina arched her back, thrusting out her D-cup breasts for emphasis. “I fill this out much more than Miss Saggy Bags over there!”
“In your dreams, Chica,” Suzie threw back, nonplussed. She turned to Michael. “Hey, pool-boy, I have a job for you,” she whispered.
“Pool-boy?” Michael asked as the other two women settled down onto their towels. “What’s that about?”
“You know, he who plays with inflatable toys,” she purred. “Why don’t we show up our new atmospheric-pressure-headed friends what we can do.”
“Meaning what?” he questioned, peering over the tops of his sunglasses.
“Give me a boost,” she whispered, holding her hands to her chest and then moving them outward, pantomiming. “You know; you blow me up now, I blow you later, understand?”
“Got it,” he said. Michael sat back, closed his eyes, and opened his mind to bring up the control of his special power. He could count on one hand how many times he had done this in public, not behind closed doors in his clinic. With all the noisy activity around them, he had to concentrate and block out the distractions before his ability could manifest itself.
Suzie sat back and waited. She felt the first tingle, starting at her nipples and spreading across the skin of her breasts. She had had this done to her so many times already that she knew what to expect, and didn’t jump in surprise when her boobs began to rise like bread dough in a baker’s oven. With all the noise around, she could barely detect the slight hiss of the gases as her breasts began to inflate. Watching them grow, she felt another tingle further down her body; seeing herself ballooning like this always made her aroused. The twin blimps began to strain the extra stretchy fabric of the swimsuit’s cups. Michael let his power flow just for a few seconds, long enough to expand his wife’s chest to about an F-cup, and stopped.
“Saggy Bags, eh?” Suzie said loudly. “I think I fill this bikini out much more than you ever will.”
Esparanza turned to throw another brash remark, but what she saw instead cut her provocation short. “Hey, did you see that?” she smacked Amanda on the shoulder. “Her tits got bigger!”
“What gives?” spat Amanda. “Do you have inflatable implants?”
Suzie smiled nonchalantly, squinting into the high afternoon sun. “This body has been touched many times by a plastic surgeon,” she cast Michael a knowing look, “but I don’t have implants.”
“Either you are lying your ass off about not having implants,” the Latina remarked sharply, “or you are on some drug that makes your boobs bigger. What’s your secret?”
Suzie sat up, her inflated breasts bumping into her knees. “You really want to know my secret?”
“Yes,” Amanda sat up on her knees, keenly watching. Even Esparanza turned, interested.
Grabbing her beach bag, Suzie rummaged through the bottom, searching for some unknown item. When she brought out her hand, she held in it a small bottle of Lubriderm. Amanda took the bottle from her hand. “What’s this?” she asked. “It just looks like regular lotion.”
“No, it’s a special blend of breast enhancement creams that my plastic surgeon gave to me,” Suzie said calmly, trying to keep a straight face. Michael had to catch himself from chuckling. “I hide it in an ordinary lotion bottle so no one knows what is really in it. I rubbed some of this on myself before we got out of the car. Then all I had to do was wait for the sunlight to activate it.”
Amanda squirted some of the creamy substance into an open hand. “How much do you use?”
“Oh, you mustn’t use too much. A little goes a long way.” Suzie sat up straight and puffed out her inflated chest. “As you can see,” she added for emphasis. “Just rub a little on your breasts, but avoid touching your nipples. You don’t want them stretched out to the size of dinner plates.”
The blonde reached her full hand into her swimsuit top and smeared the cream all over her boobs. “Give me that!” Esparanza demanded, snatching the bottle from her friend’s hand and squeezing an amble amount into her own. Pulling down the bikini top, not caring who she was flashing her bare breasts at, the Latina rubbed the substance on her chest generously, and then tossed the empty bottle at Suzie’s feet.
“I told you not to use too much,” Suzie pointed out, a faux note of concern in her voice. “You don’t know how powerful this stuff can be.”
“I don’t care, Saggy Bags,” Esparanza spat defiantly. “When this stuff kicks in, we will be once again bigger than you, and everyone will be staring at us.”
“Yah, and since we used it all, you won’t be able to make yourself bigger,” Amanda added, laughing a Suzie. “We will have the biggest tits on the beach!”
“More like you will be seen as being the biggest boobs on the beach,” Michael retorted.
“So how long does this take?” Latina asked, sitting back onto her towel.
“Not long,” Suzie grinned maliciously. “You should be getting a boost right about…now.”
Michael, behind his sunglasses, took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. He had to concentrate, specifically targeting the two haughty girls while not allowing any of the other women close by to be affected by his special power. When he had his ability under tight control, he released it with a sigh.
“OH!” both girls remarked in surprise, hands instantly rising to grasp the cups of their swimsuits. Touching themselves lightly, they felt their breasts begin to expand. “I think it’s working,” Amanda said almost at a whisper.
Through his control, Michael was making sure that Esparanza’s boobs were blowing up faster than the others’. “Look at you,” Amanda pointed. “Your tits are blowing up like freaking balloons!”
The Latina’s hands were being forced further away from her body as her breasts continued to expand. The blonde’s growth was far behind. Both women were cupping themselves and rubbing their hands over their burgeoning mammaries, getting bigger and bigger, straining the fabric of their suits until the straps burst, unable to contain the inflation. The two women were both well past the size that Michael had inflated Suzie to, and he continued to flow his power into both of them, slowly increasing its speed.
Esparanza was having to hold the blue cups of her bikini over her nipples with her hands to keep herself covered. “I feel so tight,” she said excitedly. “I’m going to be bigger than any porn star has even been!”
Amanda had her arms wrapped around her volleyball-sized breasts, squeezing them up under her chin. “My boyfriend is going to love these!” she declared as she was forced to drop her arms, unable to hold back the expansion. “Nah, forget him! He’s a loser! I can get anyone I want with these things!”
Suzie just smiled again, watching both women blow up from under the shade of the umbrella. “Don’t let your egos become as inflated as your tits, ladies. You might want to remain grounded and not get ahead of yourself.” She leaned forward. “Then again, I told you not to use too much of that cream. You might not be able to stay grounded for long, since you did that.”
On cue, Michael sent a surge of power across the air and into the two women. Amanda’s breasts exploded from the top of her one-piece swimsuit, her growing blimps pushing upward into her face. “Whoa!” she cried, falling over backward and landing on her ass in the sand.
Esparanza’s twin flesh-tone beachballs escaped their blue captivity like a couple of front seat airbags, staggering her momentarily. “Oh shit!” she snapped, as a dozen people turned to stare at the expanding duo. Her breasts bobbed up under her chin, forcing her head back, her naked nipples pointed straight into the afternoon sky. She tried to reach the tips of her breasts to pull them down, but they were well out of arm’s length by now.
“Look!” people around them could be heard saying, “they are blowing up like balloons!”
“Are they going to pop?” said another.
“Help!” Esparanza screamed, her face buried in her own overblown cleavage.
“How do we stop this?” Amanda begged.
Michael, not taking his eyes off the surf, said, “You should have listened to her. You did this to yourselves by rubbing on too much. If you don’t burst from blowing up too much, you may just be left overinflated permanently.”
“Or, maybe, you will just float away, out to sea, like a couple of helium balloons on a gentle breeze,” Suzie added, “and no one will ever see you again.”
It was then that the Latina’s feet lost contact with the beach. Carried aloft her flesh-blimps, she bellowed a string of Spanish curses as she gained altitude. No one came running to her rescue, all stunned by watching her inflate and begin to float away. Amanda, fighting her own balloon boobs, reached out and caught Esparanza’s hand, anchoring her tenuously to the ground. “I’ve got you!” But that lifeline was short-lived, because the blonde felt her breast surge outward again, their upward tug increasing to the point of buoyancy and beyond. “I’m floating too!” she said, letting go.
Amanda turned to the two people closest to them. “Help us!” she cried, extending a hand toward the couple. Suzie slowly got up out of her chair, waiting until Amanda was almost out of reach before extending her hand upward. “Thanks,” Amanda said with a sigh of relief, grasping the proffered appendage. But her upward pull against gravity became too much, and she soon slipped out of Suzie’s purposefully weak grip.
“I’m sorry,” Suzie called. “Your hand was so slippery, probably from using too much of my lotion.” She waved goodbye to the two inflated women, their tit-balloons pointed proudly skyward as they began to drift upward and across the crowded strand. All activity ceased on the beach, as everyone gazed up at two half-naked women, hanging ponderously below pairs of flesh-toned blimps twenty feet above the onlookers’ heads. The panicked screaming slowly faded as they floated further away, leaving the crowd stunned and quiet.
Which was what Michael and Suzie had come to the beach for: a peaceful, quiet, relaxing afternoon.
”Don’t worry,” Michael whispered. “They won’t float too high. They’ll probably be found by some hiker up around the Hollywood sign later today. But they won’t be treating other people like dirt ever again.”
“You do good work, doctor,” Suzie said, looking down at her own inflated boobs stretching out her bikini top. “Sure taught them a lesson.” She rubbed her hands gently across her tight top. “I think I’ll have you leave me like this for the rest of the day.”
“You told me to blow you up, remember?” he prodded.
“Yes, I remember,” she replied, reaching down into the cooler and pulling out a cold drink. “I said that if you blew me up now, I would blow you later.” She seductively licked a piece of ice off the side of the long-necked bottle, her tongue traveling up and down the bottle’s side several times before she sucked the foam off the tip. “And I intend to keep my word.”
Michael shuddered excitedly, feeling a tingle stir things in his board shorts.
Note: Another in the ‘Control’ series. If you haven’t already, read my previous works so that you will know the background of these two characters.
Control 6: Long Distance Inflation
There are definite advantages of being married to a plastic surgeon, Suzie thought as she lounged poolside in her own backyard.
She was enjoying a little downtime, taking a break from the work she did at home to enjoy a little time in the spring California sun. Michael, her husband, had built a studio onto the back of the house for Suzie when they got married a few years back. The studio was her own private area, replete with easels and worktable for her to do the drawings and designs for her fashion clothing line. Shelves full of fabric samples dotted the walls in places where her design drawing weren’t mounted. The past few months Suzie had taken the time to truly make the space into her own, private woman-cave.
Her small company, Ba-Luna Fashions, had ‘taken off’, like an overfilled helium balloon, in the past year, and now the two were enjoying some of the spoils of success. Their Thousand Oaks home already had a huge backyard, with fully-grown fruit trees along the fence line that provided some privacy from peeping neighbors. An in-ground pool and spa were the next expansions that the couple had wanted and planned for. The work had been completed a few weeks before, and the couple could be found frequently spending their evenings relaxing in the bubbling waters of the Jacuzzi or splashing around in the depths of the new pool.
Seeing the cool, tranquil waters through the window as she had worked on her latest project, Suzie had given in to the temptation and abandoned her design drawings. Now sitting in the shade of an umbrella within a handful of steps from the inviting water, Suzie stretched her legs out on the cushion of the chaise lounge and welcomed the changing of the seasons. The air tasted slightly of the ocean that was only ten miles to the south, and the smell of freshly-tilled earth from the farms to the north. The feeling was blissful, and breathing deeply, she closed her eyes, dozing.
Michael had been away for the week, in stormy Chicago. He had invited his wife to tag along with him for the annual convention of the National Association of Cosmetic Surgeons, but a cold front coming off the Great Lakes that had kept the upper Midwestern states in its grip for the past two weeks had dissuaded her from accompanying him. Suzie was a California sunshine lover, and avoided snow when she could. He was due to arrive in Los Angeles the next day, and he had called her every night to tell her how much he missed her and couldn’t wait to find himself back in her arms on Saturday.
As her mind drifted somnolently, Suzie remained in a state of wakeless sleep; not quite completely unconscious, but also not completely aware of her surroundings. She was undisturbed by the slight breeze that caused her white, silky swimsuit cover-up to flutter slightly, the white bikini underneath hugging her amble curves seductively. Her chest, filling out the bikini’s top (of her own design) with much more than what nature had originally blessed her with (thanks to her husband’s ‘work’), rose and fell with her gentle breathing as she relaxed further and was finally claimed by the pagan gods of sleep.
Suzie jolted with a start, eyes fluttering open, not knowing how long she had been out or what had disturbed her. The sun was still high in the afternoon sky, so she determined that she hadn’t slumbered very long. It was then that she felt a familiar tingle in her erogenous regions, one that always accompanied Michael when he used his special ‘power’ on her. She glanced down at her chest to confirm what was happening, and watched as her breasts began to swell as they had done many times before.
“Oh,” she commented out loud to herself, “I must still be asleep and dreaming.” This had never happened before unless Michael had been in the room with her, so she relaxed and embraced the feeling of the expansion.
The growth, skin-stretching pleasantly, was accompanied soon by a feeling of weightlessness. When Michael inflated her with his special gift, it was so rapturous to her that is usually got her juices flowing, and she reached down and touched the front of her bikini bottom, feeling her clit rise and harden through the soft fabric. Her nipples, sliding inside the white cups as her breasts ballooned in front of her eyes, rose in response, outlined prominently through the silky cloth. Suzie gasped tenuously as the sensuous feeling enveloped her, and, closing her eyes again, began to gently rub her engorged clit through the swimsuit’s fabric.
It startled her when the bikini’s bra became too tight, and began to rip down the middle of her expanding cleavage. Suzie stopped her quickened rubbing when she felt the strings give way, the two halves of the swimsuit top springing to her sides and releasing her overblown tits into the exposing air. Her boobs were almost the size of beachballs when she realized that she was not truly still asleep. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, jumping up from the chaise lounge, her chest blimps bobbing in front of her face. “This is real!”
Unable to close her cover-up around her expanded chest, Suzie simply dashed for the nearest open portal to the house. She always left her studio door stood open when she was working, to allow fresh air to circulate through the spacious room. With her breasts floating up into her face, making it difficult to see precisely where she was going, Suzie bumped a planter and brushed against a dwarf pine tree as she made her way up carefully up the path to her workshop. Bigger and bigger she inflated, her tits developing more upward lift the closer she came to her goal. With ten feet to go, she took a tenuous step and hovered in the air for a couple of seconds before finally descending back to the ground. With one last push-off, Suzie launched herself at the open doorway, the tops of her breasts bumping into the upper doorframe as she did. Her body’s momentum then carried her the rest of the way into the room and under the relative safety of the studio’s low ceiling.
Her feet were only dangling a few inches off the workshop floor. Her nipples, though, were stretched four feet above her head, adhered to the studio’s texted ceiling. Since her toes couldn’t touch the floor, Suzie was practically immobilized, unable to move, and unable to know how this had happened to her in the first place. Michael was two thousand miles away, and she certainly didn’t have any special power to have done this to herself.
Unable to do anything else, Suzie hung there trapped in the air. Ten minutes went by before she heard her cell phone ring. It was on one of the workbenches, fifteen feet away, and the ringtone that played meant that Michael was calling her. Since she couldn’t move, the phone went silent, unanswered. I have got to get to that phone, she thought, determined. But how? And then an idea popped into her head.
Suzie remembered being a child and playing on the swing-set in her parents’ yard. She began to sway her legs, like she would on the swings, building momentum. Twisting, she swung her feet in the direction of the workbench, toward the phone, and her breast balloons skipped a foot across the ceiling. Repeating the action several times, Suzie slowly slid her way across the painted drywall, giving her abdominal muscles quite the workout. Finally, she maneuvered within reach, and was just able to stretch her fingertips enough to touch the cellphone and drag it closer to her. At last she was able to grasp the device, and turning her head to one side due to her floating obstructions, dialed it one-handed to ring her husband back.
“Hi, sweetie,” Michael answered cheerfully. “I was on a break between lectures and tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up, so I was…”
“Michael,” she cut him off, exasperated. “Tell me about it later, but for now I have another serious problem that I’m currently dealing with!”
He hesitated. “Ugh…what’s going on?”
“Let me explain,” Suzie began. “A little bit ago, I was sitting out by the pool, enjoying the sunshine, when suddenly my tits blew up like balloons again.”
“Wait…what?” he stammered.
“Just like when you have done it to me dozens of times before. Fortunately, I was able to get inside before I got too big to fit through the door and then floated away.”
The line was silent as Michael absorbed the story. “You just inflated, and floated, like I do to you, but without me being there?”
“Apparently so, since I am currently pinned to the ceiling of my studio,” she snapped at him, frustrated. “Do you mind telling me what you were doing about twenty minutes ago?”
He paused, thinking. “I was in the symposium on breast augmentation and reconstruction. The panel of speakers were talking about the newest types of implants, and the pros and cons of each. One guy was taking about the newest air-inflatable, adjustable implant. One of the panelists made a joke about women being able to use them as floatation devices, while another pointed out the risks associated with traveling in a pressurized aircraft. If the loss of cabin pressure ever happened, those implants would inflate to triple their size and burst. Which, of course, is why I always have to make sure you are fully deflated before we get on a plane. And then…”
Suzie smirked, knowing now where this was going. “Get to the point of the story when you were thinking about me,” she instructed.
“Well, at that point I was getting a little bored. Breasts are kinda my specialty now, and these guys weren’t talking about anything I didn’t already know about. But all this talk about inflatables and breasts got me thinking about the first time we swam in the new pool, and you had me blow you up so that you were your own personal floatation device. And how much fun we had having sex in the pool, and you blowing up so huge that you practically floated both of us out of the water that night.”
“And then I started blowing up, for real,” she added. “You are ten states away, and you can inflate me from there? What am I supposed to do about that?”
“Just give me a minute,” Michael said calmly. “Let see if I can also deflate you from here.” Suzie hung in the air, waiting, imagining her husband silently concentrating mentally. A minute passed, and no change occurred. “Anything happening?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. He paused again, issuing another mental command across the distance. And was rewarded with a high-pitched hissing sound, much like a balloon with a slow leak. “I think it’s working now,” Suzie said when she felt her nipples lose their contact with the ceiling. Slowly she descended, finally feeling her toes touch the hardwood flooring. It took a moment for her to be able to stand flat-footed on the ground, and another two full minutes before her breasts were no longer bobbing in front of her eyes and she could sit in a chair.
“Are you fully deflated?” he asked, embarrassed.
“No,” she answered, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, “but that’s okay. I want to have something to smother you with when I meet you at the airport tomorrow, in revenge for you doing this to me. Now you will have to learn to control your power from long distance. It’s a good thing I didn’t have clients over when this happened.”
Michael laughed. “Is there anything you want me to bring back from the Windy City?”
“No,” Suzie giggled, “just you, in one piece. But you own me a new bikini.”
“Then I will take it up with the designer,” he said. “I know her intimately.”
Control 7: Neighbors
“Sounds like our neighbors are out for a swim,” Gretchen Lipshitz said, accepting a glass of iced tea from her husband. She took a quick sip of the drink and stretched, enjoying the lazy weekend sun from under her tinted glasses and wide-brimmed sunhat.
John, a middle-aged balding man, set down the day’s copy of the LA Times and plopped into another chaise lounge chair next to his wife with a grunt. Skipping the sections of local news and national politics, he went right for the financials. The international stock markets were down all week, and his brokerage had taken quite a beating in the stock and futures markets. He barely registered what Gretchen had said to him until she repeated her statement, expecting a response. “It’s about time they got some use out of that pool,” he snapped distractedly.
Their neighbors, a young couple with no kids, had moved in about a year ago into the exclusive Thousand Oaks area subdivision. John and Gretchen had met them when they first purchased the property. The man was a medical doctor, maybe even a plastic surgeon if John remembered right, and the wife was some sort of fashion designer. The tranquility level of the neighborhood had begun to be disturbed not long after, as the new couple set about immediately adding onto their house with what looked like an artist’s studio off the back yard, and the installation of a swimming pool. Construction had finally been completed two weeks before, and now the Lipshitzs could finally enjoy some peace and quiet in their own backyard, next to their own pool without the work noise for next door.
The two sat in the sun, sipping their tea, listening to the splashing and laughing of the couple next door. Gretchen, only a year younger than John, stretched again; her long legs sticking out of a modest green tankini rubbing lightly against each other. She gazed at her husband and cringed, seeing that he was again wearing those awful blue board shorts that were a size too small for his middle-aged physique. His moderate gut slopped over the tops of the squeezing swim trunks, exaggerating its size. But, according to him, he worn them because that’s what all the young studs are wearing, and he never backed down from a fashion challenge. He didn’t see her roll her eyes in disgust, or simply ignored what he knew she was thinking.
The excited playfulness next door ebbed. Gretchen, ever the nosy neighbor who loved to spread the latest juicy gossip to the other rich ladies in the area, perked up and listened more closely as the splashing became more rhythmic, with the occasional moan of pleasure from over the wall. “I think they’re at it again,” she whispered, but John was again not paying attention. When her husband didn’t respond, she threw her sunglasses at him, bouncing them off his balding dome. He turned angrily to her, but she placed a finger over her lips to signal him to be quiet while pointing toward the wall that separated the two house’s yards. “I think they’re having sex in their pool again.”
John had been waiting for this. He had caught the couple next door fooling around in their pool last week, and what he had seen didn’t make sense. So he had waited for it to happen again, so he could try to prove what he had seen was not a trick of the eye on the water or that he was delusional. So he got up, setting down his newspaper, and quietly began to track back to his house. “This is scandalous,” Gretchen said, “and I can’t wait to tell the girls! Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” he mumbled, quickening his pace. His too-tight swim trunks made it difficult to move with much speed, but he didn’t want to pass this opportunity to catch them in the act.
“Alright, but come right back, you hear?” Gretchen called out. “And bring the rest of the pitcher of iced tea when you do.” He waved to her dismissively as he entered the house.
Scrambling up the stairs as quickly as his shorts would allow, John dashed into his bedroom. He grabbed his expensive digital camera with the telephoto lens, maneuvered to window closest to the border wall, and pulled the curtains partially shut. He had been in this same spot last week, and had noticed that a small break in the trees along the wall allowed him to see into his neighbor’s yard, overlooking their new pool. And what he had seen was beyond description. He had happened to glance through the break just at the right time to see Michael and Suzie Wilkes walk up to the edge of their pool, pull off their clothes, and jump naked into the water. John had sat there in the light to the setting sun and watched as the couple began making boisterous love in the waves. That hadn’t bothered him; he had kinda enjoyed it at first. But what happened next was what he wanted to view again, and record this time, so that his wife wouldn’t think him crazy when he finally told her about it.
As the couple’s sexual romp had become more vigorous, John had thought he had seen Suzie’s breasts begin to grow. And not just grow a little; her chest had inflated like a pair of beachballs. And the bigger she got, the higher her boobs pointed. It even looked like Michael was having to hold onto her, because she was rising out of the water, attached to a pair of skin blimps that threatened to pull her skyward. Suzie, throughout all of this growth, had thrashed and moaned like she was enjoying this immensely. John had watched dumbfounded as Suzie’s breasts ballooned so big that it looked like she was almost floating out of and above the surface of the water, and was going to take her husband airborne with her. Finally, Michael must have finished and ceased pumping into her, because she suddenly started shrinking, and slowly settled back into the surf as her breasts deflated. John had sat speechless as the two gathered up their clothing and had gone back inside their home.
Now he wanted to catch them in the act, and record the act to show his wife later.
*****
Michael stood in the cool water, Suzie’s arms wrapped around his neck as he ground his hips into her. “Harder,” she whispering into his ear. “I’m about ready to go up.”
That was their catch phrase to let him know when she was ready to be inflated. Michael slammed into her rhythmically, causing her to jolt with each impact. She smiled, loving the friction of the action, and knowing that even though she was light in the water, once she was blown up a bit, she was even easier for him to handle if she was floating slightly. And the inflation usually put her over the edge into a very satisfying orgasm. “Okay,” she said between thrusts, “give me the helium.”
*****
John couldn’t hear what was being said, but the camera that was focused closely on the couple picked up the first hint of expansion. But he was so entranced but his neighbors’ lovemaking that he didn’t notice what was happening in his own backyard.
Gretchen sat, a devious smile crossing her lips while listening to the Wilkes’ pleasure each other on the other side of the wall. Her iced tea glass was sweating in her hand, and the moans from next door actually turning her on slightly. She set the glass down on the table to her right, closing her eyes, and placed both hands on her breasts, cupping and stroking them gently like she always asked John to do to her. Her nipples tingled under her swimsuit top, those tingles descending into her loins and causing impure thoughts to spring into her head. Touching her tits more aggressively, kneading them like a baker with bread dough, it took a moment before she noticed the change. Her breasts began to grow, expanding within her grasp, soon spilling out of her hands before she noticed that she had more there to play with. The breeze through the trees muted the slight hissing sound that emanated from her chest as the inflation began and increased rapidly.
When she felt something nudge her chin, she opened her eyes, expecting to find John to be standing over her. Instead what she discovered was two huge mounds of flesh that were pushing out of the top of her green tankini, beginning already to strain the fabric. “What the…” Gretchen exclaimed as boobs continued to rise, spilling out in all directions of the inadequate swimsuit that was digging into her flesh. She pulled the restricting straps off of her shoulders, and her tits bounced free. Mouth agape, she reached with both hands and tried to push back the growth, but her breasts continued to inflated outward and upward, soon rising up into her face and blinding her. “John!” she screamed. “Something’s happening out here! I need you!”
Mr. Lipshitz was a little preoccupied at the time, as Suzie’s breast blimps were now big enough to start lifting both she and Michael out of the water. He was still fiddling with the camera, making sure that it was still recording, and didn’t hear his wife’s panicked screams.
Within seconds, Gretchen’s boobs had grown passed the size of basketballs. As they approached the diameter of beachballs, she felt the first hint of upward lift. Her chest balloons started to pull her skyward, her nipples pointed straight at the clouds, and the only thing within reach that she could grab for ballast was the wire table that her tea glass rested on. “Help!” she screamed as her finger clamped onto the edge of the table and bobbled it. Her glass crashed to the poolside concrete. The lightweight table halted her ascent, but only temporarily. Too soon her buoyancy overcame the added weight, and she again began to gain altitude.
*****
“Did you hear something?” Suzie stopped bucking. She was hovering, her feet the only part of her still in the water. Michael had a hold of her hips, his face planted into her nether region, keeping her from floating away as he pleasured her. Weather balloon-sized tits threatened to send her flying if he let go too soon.
There was the sound of breaking glass, followed but another crash. They both heard a woman scream, the panicked tone scaling up in timber. Both turned toward the sound just in time to see a woman, their neighbor, wearing a green swimsuit, slowly rise above the height of their barrier fence, attached to a pair of overinflated tits. “Oh shit!” Suzie stammered. “You inflated her too. Get her down!”
Michael, still holding onto his floating wife, closed his eyes, exhaled, and sent out a general mental command. He heard a high-pitched squeal in response, similar to the sound of balloon that has sprung a small leak, and he felt Suzie begin to deflate and descend, settling both of them back into the water. Gretchen was twenty feet up in the air, and a slight breeze had pushed her into the Wilkes’ yard, when she slowly began to drop back to the ground.
Michael and Suzie jumped out of the pool and threw on bathrobes as Gretchen lightly touched down in their yard. The older woman tried to speed up the process by pushing in on her breasts with her hands, trying to stuff her balloons back into her tankini top to no avail. “I don’t know what happened,” she babbled, trying to cover her still slightly inflated breast with her hand for modesty around the unfamiliar people. “I was just sitting in my chair next door when pfffffffttttttttt! I blew up like a pair of balloons!”
Suzie looked at Michael with a slight smile, realizing that Gretchen hadn’t known that they were the cause of her inflation. When she was floating, she had landed with her back to them, so Gretchen may have not noticed that Suzie had also been blown up. Unfortunately, John had seen it all and had recorded it in all of its digital glory. And he came sprinting into his neighbor’s backyard to rescue his inflated wife, only to find Gretchen grounded and talking to the perpetrators. His wife’s swollen breasts were almost back to her original B-cups when he arrived.
“Alright, how did you do it?” John demanded. “I know you did it, because you made your wife blow up and float too.”
Michael and Suzie looked askance at each other suspiciously. “You saw?” the doctor asked.
“Everything, and got it recorded on video too. So don’t try to deny anything,” the stock broker huffed. “What did you do to my wife?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen to your wife,” Michael explained. “Only mine. But somehow my control slipped, and your wife was too close and caught some of the slippage.”
“Is it biological, chemical, pharmaceutical, what?” John pressed. “How did you do it?”
All eyes were on Michael. “If I tell you, then you must keep it a secret,” he begged. “I will pay anything to keep this under wraps.”
“Anything?”
“What did you have in mind?” Suzie asked him.
Gretchen placed a reassuring hand on John’s arm. “How about this?” she said to her husband, then turned to the two others.
“How about you blow me back up?” she said suggestively, placing her hands back onto her puffy boobs. “I’ve always wanted to be bigger, and I know he’s always wanted the same thing, but without implants and surgery. And certainly not so big that I am floating like a helium balloon! But make them permanently big, as big as I want.”
Michael shrugged. “Done.” Gretchen felt a tingle in her nipples as her breasts began to expand again.
*****
John’s fingers clicked a few keystrokes on his computer, the keyboard illuminated in the glow of the display monitor in the dark room. Gretchen had gone to bed, having to learn to adjust her sleeping positions due to her new extra-large air-filled chest protrusions. He had placed the memory card from the camera into his computer, and now was watching the recorded events of the day for the fifth time. He had turned the camera when he first heard his wife scream, and caught her as she started to float up and away. He was fascinated by what he had caught on video, but hesitated with decision to share it with the world.
He had loaded the video, and all he needed to do to post it to YouTube was press the ‘Enter’ key.
His finger floated above the key, waiting for the mind to choose what to do next.
Control 8: Over the Net
“Hello, this is Doctor Wilkes,” Michael answered the phone call that had been transferred into his clinic office.
Well, hello there, Doctor,” a familiar voice said seductively. “This is your lonely wife calling. She wants to know if you are going to be finished for the day any time soon.”
Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “Not yet. I just finished up with a rhinoplasty, and still have one more breast augmentation to do this afternoon. You know it’s only three o’clock, right? I’m usually not leaving the clinic until at least five.”
“I know,” Suzie sounded a little disappointed, “but I am a little bored at home today. Not much in the way of creative ideas coming to me for the fashion line, so I have been thinking about you.”
“Thinking about me?” he perked at her words. “Just what have you been thinking?”
“Well…” she hesitated. “You remember last month when you were in Chicago for your convention, and you started daydreaming inflating me. Suddenly, thousands of miles away, I started blowing up at that same time.”
“Yes, I remember,” Michael admitted, not sure where this train of thought was going. “I remember you telling me that you were outside when it started, and you had to scramble to get inside before you floated off.”
A pause. “If you have a minute or two, I would like to ‘expand’ on what happened that day,” Suzie said, with a hint of humor in her voice.
“What did you have in mind?” he queried, piqued.
She giggled. “Turn on your office computer. Make sure your webcam is on, and when your Skype app rings, answer it.”
“Okay,” Michael answered, puzzled. Following her instructions, he opened the laptop computer on his office desk and waited for the signal. A chime sounded, and he moved the cursor over the Skype icon on the screen and double-clicked. The background faded to a new scene; it was a view of his bedroom, the king-sized bed with the bedspread pulled down to reveal purple (her favorite color) satin sheets. Resting on the bed was a scattering of red and white rose petals, and in the middle of it all was his wife, Suzie.
And she was naked.
“Wow!” he said, blinking rapidly. “That’s quite the view. Too bad I’m not home right now.”
“Then you would spoil the experiment,” Suzie purred, placing her hands over her exposed breasts, tugging gently on her raised nipples.
“What did you have in mind?” Michael repeated.
“This is to be a test of your control over your power,” she explained. “You inflated me from half the country away last month, but you didn’t realize you were doing it. Today I want you to try to do it while you are at work and I am at home. Try to blow up my tits while you watch me on your computer. I want to see if your control can be honed to be this precise.”
“I see,” Michael smiled. “Sounds like you have been thinking about this for a while.”
“Oh, I have been planning this for several days, waiting for the right time to do it,” she cooed, twisting her nipples pleasurably. “I want you to inflate me until I am just buoyant enough to float above the bed under my tit-balloons. Don’t let me float too high, or you won’t be able to see anything on the camera.”
“See anything? Meaning what?”
One of her hands left her ample breast and drifted down to her exposed pussy, beginning to rub her clit in a clockwise motion. “If this works, while you watch, I am going to stroke myself until I cum,” Suzie said in almost a whisper. “And that is just the prelude to what I am going to do to you when you get home tonight.”
Michael felt himself stiffen at the suggestion. “When do you want to try this?”
“I am sooooo ready now,” she said breathlessly, staring into the bedroom’s webcam. “Blow me up, big guy, and later I will show the other ‘big guy’ a really ‘swell’ time.”
“Then it’s a date,” he laughed. “I feel like a human air compressor, sometime with you.”
“Not air,” Suzie corrected him. “You are a human helium tank, and I am your happy, sexy balloon. So give me the helium and send me up!”
“Your wish is my command.” Michael closed his eyes, imagining himself being in the room with her, standing next to the bed. The feel, the scents, the familiarity of it all. She had both of her hands cupping her breasts, anticipating what his gift, his power could do to her. And he opened the door to his power and let it gently flow across the distance and into her.
Reopening his eyes, he watched as she laid on her back, palms caressing her mammary flesh. Through the microphone on her laptop computer, Michael heard Suzie gasp in surprise as the first hint of expansion began. Her breasts rose upward like two balloons being filled from the same valve, eager to accept their fate and purpose as they jostled against each other. Suzie kept her fingertips on her nipples, playing with them until she could no longer reach them, allowing her hands to drop to her sides as boobs continued to inflate bigger and rounder. She had told him that the feeling of stretching and expanding was very arousing to her, and she moaned sensuously as her breasts began to tower over her.
Slowing the flow of his power, he watched as her boob balloons began to pull her upward. First her shoulders, then her lower back lost contact with the satin sheets as she went airborne, the helium in her skin blimps dragging her towards the ceiling. “Remember, don’t let me float too high,” she admonished, but he was already stifling his gift as her feet left the surface of the bed. From the camera angle, he could only see half of her femme balloons (the top half out of frame), and her face was hidden behind her dirigibles, but her knew from experience that she would be, at this point, lost in the feeling of weightlessness and arousal, keening toward the need for release. “How’s that?”
“I feel free as a balloon in the summer sky,” Suzie replied dreamily. As he watched, she slowly rotated in the air, floating lazily. She ran her hands up and down the sides of her overinflated boobs, marveling at the tautness and shape. “Michael, you did it! But I can’t help it. If I can’t have you here, then I must do it myself. I need to do it. And you just sit there and watch!”
A hand slowly drifted down to the sweet spot between her legs. Suzie felt around, finally taking her engorged clit between two fingers and began to vigorously stroke up and down. Michael watched as her back clenched and her legs raised as her sexual tension built. Her rubbing made her floating spin slightly faster. Michael was getting hard himself.
Michael had an idea. Her breathing came faster as she used her whole palm to stroke herself. Redirecting his gift, he sent a small puff of power to a place he had never tried before, just to see what would happen. Suzie’s clit inflated like a small balloon, swelling to the size of a golf ball. Suzie screamed; ten times the surface area meant ten times the sensitivity. “What did you…”
“Don’t stop,” he commanded. Her breathing was coming out in loud gasps, crescendoing in pitch and intensity. “Oh shit, oh shit,” Suzie mumbled as her stroking speed increased. “Oh shit,” she exclaimed louder, “I gonna…”
Suzie screamed as she came; arms flailing and legs bucking in the air. Michael sent the mental command, and she slowly started to deflate and descend back down to the bed. As she came out of the event, she settled back on top of the satin sheets, sweat beading her forehead as her breathing calmed. By the time her pulse was almost back to normal, her breasts had shrunk back to their normal size. But Michael left the small clit balloon inflated, just for fun.
“That worked out better than I expected,” she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with one hand. With the other, she touched lightly on the overinflated bulb between her legs. “Wow, that is sensitive. What made you think to blow up my clit? I just about came right then.”
“I thought I could do it, and I just did it,” Michael said. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. “Oops, got to go. I have my last patient waiting in the OR.”
“Okay, I will see you when you get home,” Suzie said breathlessly, still slightly touching her inflated nub. “I have a great reward waiting for you when you get here.”
Michael shut his laptop. Rising, he pulled his lab coat tightly around him so that none of his office staff could see his own arousal. Stepping out of his office, he skirted quickly passed his receptionist and headed back to the operating suites. Betty, his nurse, was already washing her hands before taking the patient back to the OR, and nudged him with an elbow. “Is you wife here?”
“Why do you ask?” Michael queried, a trickle of sweat running down his neck.
“Because I could swear I heard you two in your office, and it sounded like you two were having…”
“That’s quite enough, Betty,” he interrupted her gruffly. “We were Skyping.”
Betty smiled from under her surgical mask. “Oh, so that’s how it’s done these days,” she said, accusatory. “Damned electronics!”