Leslie is really good at inflating balloons. But things don't go as planned when she tests her limits.
Roger often referred to Leslie as a "living contradiction." She had an outlandishly outgoing and unabashed personality that was far too large for a woman who seemed so delicate and petite in every other way. Her bright, playful smile and twinkling blue eyes only served to add to her air of impishness. Her oversized attitude had been the second thing that had drawn Roger to her; he’d always had a thing for redheads.
Roger had first met her through his old buddy Harry. Harry and his girlfriend Belinda were planning a surprise birthday party and had invited just about everyone they knew. Leslie was a friend of Belinda’s.
When Roger walked in, Leslie was showing off how well she could blow up balloons. Much to the embarrassment of several men she’d goaded into competing with her, she was easily outpacing everyone. They all watched in disbelief as she picked up one of the brightly colored balloons and blew it up with ease. She took in a deep breath, and it almost looked as though her whole body swelled. Then she pressed the mouth of the balloon to her lips and with one long gust filled it to near bursting. She tied it off and nonchalantly batted it away to join her rapidly growing pile. Meanwhile, several men around her were still huffing and puffing to fill their balloons. Roger watched, amused, as Leslie repeated the process over and over. Inhale, exhale, tie off, repeat. After a while, the others conceded to her superior lungs and staggered off, lightheaded from their exertions. "I’ll leave this job to the expert," one of them muttered. Leslie just smiled and carried on with blowing up balloons.
Roger had always had a bit of a fascination with balloons, and had been thoroughly enjoying Leslie’s performance. But now that the competition was gone, she was going about her task with far less gusto. Roger approached her, intent on changing that.
"You look like you’re having a lot of fun."
"Yup," she grinned, swatting another balloon away. "Most guys think it’s all about brute force. Technique’s what really matters."
Roger tore open a bag of balloons and pulled out one several times the size of those Leslie was working with. "I’ll bet ya dinner you can’t blow this one up in one breath." He tossed it to her.
Leslie caught it with a swift hand. "You’re on. Oh, by the way, I’m Leslie. And you’re about to lose this bet."
"We’ll see. And the name’s Roger."
"Okay, Roger. Check this out." She grinned and took in a huge breath. Her chest rose and her belly bulged, filling and completely filling out her blouse. Roger’s jaw dropped as she continued her intake, swelling up until one button, then another popped open. Leslie winked as she brought the balloon to her mouth and blew. The bright red rubber grew into a giant sphere, rapidly inflating as Leslie expelled her air. Her entire head was hidden behind it, then her shoulders. Roger thought she must have used up all of the air she’d inhaled, but she kept on blowing steadily. The rubber became translucent, and he could see her face through the balloon, still grinning faintly as she blew. There was a soft groan, and Roger jumped as the balloon exploded. Tiny shreds of red showered down on them both.
"I like Italian food," she said as she rebuttoned her blouse.
That first date led to another, and another. It wasn’t too long before Leslie was spending most nights at Roger’s house. He was always curious about her "technique" and searched for another opportunity to get her to demonstrate. Luckily for him, it was pretty easy to taunt her into testing her limits.
One such opportunity arose on their trip to the beach. They’d planned a couple of days ahead, and Roger had taken the time to prepare. They spent a while rubbing suntan lotion on each other and lounging in the sun. Leslie had no problem with showing off her slender body in a shimmering silver one-piece swimsuit. After a while, Roger sprung his surprise on her.
"I brought a beachball," he said, reaching into his bag.
"Oh?" That caught her interest.
"Hold on, I’ll blow it up." He knew what her reaction would be. The beachball he’d brought was supposed to be over three feet across when fully inflated. Leslie laughed as she watched him puffing away feebly.
"Gimme that," she said, snatching the limp plastic form from him. "This is how you do it."
Roger watched her with rapt attention. A familiar look of concentration came over her face as she pursed her lips and inhaled. Her chest rose as her lungs filled. But ever since seeing her burst the balloon at the party, Roger had suspected her ability was more than a trick of simple lung capacity. He was still uncertain as he saw her belly puff up under the silver of her swimsuit, but his doubts faded as she continued to swell and her waistline vanished. Her pert breasts plumped up, a generous cleavage rising up under chin. Before her clothes had hidden what happened to Leslie’s body, but there was no concealing her inflated condition now. Just as her shoulder straps started digging into her shoulders and he was certain her swimsuit would split, she brought the valve to her lips and blew.
The beachball quickly filled, its crumpled panels smoothing out as it took shape. Leslie’s puffed up body subsided, but still she blew. With a long, drawn out "whoosh," she kept blowing for several seconds after Roger was sure she’d exhausted all of the air he’d inhaled. She filled the beachball until its seams pulled taut, then plugged the valve.
"There," she gasped.
"Wow," Roger gasped in return.
"Let’s play," Leslie called to him as she bounced the ball off of his head. She had caught her breath and was prancing off into the waves.
"Sure," he responded absently, but she was gone. He reached for his bag again, but stopped as a smile spread across his face. We’ll save that for later. He grabbed the beachball and chased after her.
That evening, they returned to his apartment, still in high spirits from their frolicking at the beach. "We have to go again soon," Leslie said as she let herself fall next to him on the couch.
"Yes," Roger smiled. "Maybe next time we’ll use the really big ball."
Leslie raised an eyebrow. "The really big ball?"
"Yeah, I got an even bigger beach ball, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend all day blowing it up. Wouldn’t want to waste valuable play time, y’know. Next time we go to the beach, we can really find out if your lungs are strong as you think they are." He reached over and tickled her gently.
Leslie fought off a giggle. "Let’s see it."
"It’ll be there next time."
"I mean it, let’s see this ’really big ball’ of yours," she smirked
"Let’s change first, then you can show off how well you can blow," Roger smirked right back at her. He knew full well that she’d taken the bait, and wouldn’t let it go.
"Come on, let’s see it!" She started poking him playfully.
"Ok, I’ll get it." He went off to the corner where he’d tossed his bag, and retrieved the beach ball. Made of alternating bands of red and white, it was supposed to be over six feet across when fully inflated.
This’ll take a few breaths for sure, he thought, though he was hoping she could do it in one. "Here it is," he called, throwing it across the room to her. "Good luck."
She squinted at him. "You don’t think I can do it, do you?"
"I don’t care how big your lungs are, there’s no way you can fill that up in one shot."
She winked at him as she took the beachball up in her hands. "I think you know by now it’s not all about lungs." Her face set in a look of focused determination, she inhaled deeply and exhaled several times. Roger walked over to stand next to her to get a better view. He looked over her shoulder as her chest rose and fell, puffing out a little more each time. Finally, she opened her mouth wide, inhaled, and didn’t stop.
Roger heard the soft rush of air flowing into her as her swimsuit shimmered across her expanding stomach. She was blowing up faster this time, and swelling quickly spread to her breasts. Leslie took in air even faster, her waist and hips pushing outwards as her rapidly developing breasts grew fuller and rounder. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing as she strained to suck in even more. Roger’s jaw dropped when he saw her slender legs plumping up with pressure, then her shoulders started to rise up under the straps of her suit. The silver cloth was stretched skin tight across her now huge breasts, which sat atop a belly that was several times bigger than pregnant. Behind her, the suit was starting to ride up between her enormous buttocks. The sides of the swimsuit began to fail, first with a soft popping of stitches, then a loud rip as her bulging sides burst through.
The rush of air slowed, and a blissful smile spread across her lips as her breath almost finished. She wished Roger weren’t standing behind her so she could see the look on his face. Although she might have been concerned about what devilish thoughts were causing him to grin just a little bit through his gawking astonishment.
She paused for a moment, taking in that last puff of air. I think I might have overdone it this time, she pondered as she took stock of herself. Her body was insanely distended, her new swimsuit ruined by her hugely rounded shape. I’ve never gotten this big before, she thought, but it’ll be worth the effort to see his face when I blow his precious beach ball into little bits.
Her body quivering slightly from the pressure, and barely able to bend her swollen arms, Leslie let a huge gust rise up in her throat as she brought the ball’s valve to her lips. Her eyes snapped open wide in panic as she felt Roger’s hand reach around and cover her mouth. She tried to force her breath back down, but it was too late.
"MMMMFFFFF!!!" She shrieked into his palm. She was so bloated with air she could barely move, much less break free from his grip. Her cheeks puffed out as the torrent of air that she’d captured inside her desperately sought escape. Finding none, it angrily returned from whence it came. Leslie started to swell.
Roger held his hand firmly in place as Leslie continued to bulge out on all sides. The swimsuit held out for only a few more seconds before the last of the seams were ripped apart, the tattered remains falling to the floor. Leslie tried her best to free herself from his grip, but her arms swelled with air and were forced out stiffly from her body. Completely immobile, her entire body trembled as though there were a hurricane raging inside her. Bigger and bigger she grew, her lightly tanned skin stretching out to a shiny tightness. Gradually, the enormous bulges that made up her form began to merge into each other. The canyon of cleavage between her mountainous breasts spread wider and wider as her hills flattened against the vast expanse of her inflating body.
Roger had to step back a bit has Leslie’s growth started to press into him. She was swelling up as well as out, so he had to roll her back a bit to keep his grip. Her arms were being engulfed by the rest of her body, but he could only assume the same was happening to her legs since her massive bulk was blocking much of his view. She was blowing up into a huge globe, now taller than he was. She was fully on her back now, her belly looming over him as he held her head at chest level. Her protruding head and hands were the only indications that he wasn’t simply standing in front of a giant, flesh-colored balloon.
Looking down into her fear-stricken eyes, Roger finally relented. He took his hand away, and was nearly knocked flat by the blast of air that came from Leslie’s mouth. When it stopped, Leslie hadn’t shrunk at all; she remained huge, round, and firm, her absurdly inflated body taking up a good portion of the room. Her taut skin trembled slightly as she drew long, heaving breaths in panic.
"Oh my God," she gasped. "Look what you’ve done to me!"
Roger was awestruck. "Are you alright?" He carefully held his hand out and touched her warm, smooth skin.
"I feel like I’m about to burst," she said softly, closing her eyes. "I’ve never gotten anywhere near this big before."
"How...?" Roger’s voice trailed off, his mind not able to form the question.
But Leslie understood. She opened her eyes and stared intently at him, though her flesh had bulged up around her head so much she could barely turn it. "When I was younger, I played with balloons a lot. I liked blowing them up, making them as big as I could, as fast as I could. I got pretty good at it, too. Practice enough, and you get really strong lungs. But it wasn’t ever good enough for me. I always tried harder, pushed myself farther. Then one day, I was about to blow up a really huge balloon. I took a breath, but when I stopped inhaling I could still feel the air rushing inside me. I just kept getting bigger, and it didn’t stop until I just blew it out. At first I couldn’t control it much. I burst a few outfits before I figured it out." She laughed gently. "It just felt so good. It was like, I’d inflate myself, then pass the air on to the balloon, make it my own private little toy. Guess the tables are turned now." She closed her eyes, and a blissful grin came over her face. She was calming down.
"But how do you deflate now?"
She shook her head. "I don’t know. I’d always just exhale and let all the air out, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to work this time."
Roger rubbed her gently. "Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out."
"In the meantime, could you turn on the heat? I’m getting kinda chilly, and I don’t think any of my clothes’ll fit a three hundred inch waistline."
"Sure." Roger went to adjust the thermostat. Before he went back to Leslie he made sure all of the curtains were drawn. He returned to the living room to find her wiggling her fingers and toes, finding that to be the extent of her range of motion. He still couldn’t quite believe how absolutely enormous she was. Her belly rose several feet above his head at its highest point, leaving only a couple of feet between her and the ceiling. The tanlines she’d gotten that afternoon were now stretched across her, forming vast arcs over her body. As he walked around her, he noticed her comically distorted nipple. Stretched out to the size of a frisbee, its dark pink gradually faded to her normal skin tone at the edges, a swollen nub timidly poking up from its center.
"How do you feel?"
"A little bloated," she giggled. "How do you think it feels to get blown up?"
He walked around until he could see her head. "So...what now?"
"Hey, you’re the one who got me into this fix in the first place. Didn’t you have a plan?" She glared at him for a moment before breaking into a smile at the awestruck expression that still held Roger’s face. "I don’t think I’m stuck this way, if that’s what you’re worried about. I hope the air just leaks out on its own. If I’m still this big in the morning then we might have some serious problems, but for now I guess I’ll have to just hang out in your living room."
"Well, I can’t have you spending the night out here alone," he said. "Hold on."
"Not like I can go anywhere," Leslie muttered as Roger started moving furniture around. He took a pair of couches and formed a ’V’ with them at her feet. "What you doing?" she called to him.
"Just watch." He gently rolled her forward towards the couches, then propped his armchair against her. "This should keep you from rolling," he said.
"Why should I be worried about rolling?" Though she wasn’t fully upright, her head was higher up now, so she had to strain to turn around and look at Roger below. He was stripping down to his boxers.
"You shouldn’t. I just didn’t want to fall off when I tried this."
She scowled at him. "Hey there, don’t you even think about that at a time like --"
"Don’t worry," he laughed, though the idea had occurred to him. What would it be like to make love to this giant balloon woman? "I’m just going to keep you company up there." He stepped up onto one of the couches and carefully climbed onto Leslie’s swollen body.
"Hey! Be careful whhhoooaaahhh!"
Roger’s weight slowly sank into her, the pressure causing her to flatten slightly. She felt her hands and feet begin to plump up as the displaced air was forced outward. As Roger put his full weight onto her belly, Leslie felt the pressure rise slowly up her neck, filling out her face until she had to squint over her swollen cheeks. He reached the top, being careful not to bump his head on the ceiling, and brought himself face to face with her.
"See," he smiled. "Now I’ve got a nice soft cushion to sleep on."
"Just make sure you don’t pop your new toy, mister." Her voice was slightly muffled by her overly plump lips.
"Oh, don’t worry. I’ll play nice." He leaned in and kissed her delightfully full lips and nuzzled up against her face. He started to laugh.
"What’s so funny?"
"I’ve just never had a girlfriend I could use as a cushion before." He snuggled up to her a bit more, settling in to sleep, listening to the soft rise and fall of Leslie’s breath echoing through her body.
"I should smack you upside the head," she said, smiling. I guess it’s not so bad. Leslie still wasn’t sure how or even if she’d get back to normal, but for the time being she just closed her eyes, gently rubbing her cheek against Roger’s. She sighed. She’d worry about it in the morning.
Leslie awoke, but didn’t open her eyes at first. She no longer felt Roger’s weight on her. She was lying flat on her back now, to whatever extent she still had a back. Best as she’d been able to tell, her body had been one giant curve before she went to sleep.
She wiggled her fingers, breaking into a grin as she realized she could move her hands freely once again. Her feet were similarly mobile. Moving her arms and legs proved somewhat less fruitful. She could wiggle them some, causing her to wobble in place and displacing the air inside her, but bending simply wasn’t happening. Leslie was still somewhat heartened. At least now she could distinctly feel that she had limbs.
Taking a deep breath through lips that she could feel were still significantly plumper than normal, she steeled herself in preparation for viewing her current condition.
Leslie opened her eyes.
“Holy shit, my tits are huge!” she cried out, then laughed at the absurdity of her response. She was used to her breasts growing larger when she inhaled, but she’d never had the opportunity to appreciate her pneumatically enhanced mammaries. Previously she’d never stayed inflated very long, and last night she’d gotten so huge that they were stretched to near nonexistence across the vast surface of her body.
But she’d shrunk down considerably while she’d slept. Now her breasts stood out from her body as two towering, swollen domes blocking most of her view. She couldn’t even see the rest of her torso.
“I’ve — I’ve deflated.” Not completely, that was obvious. Looking to the left and right, marvelling at her reclaimed ability to turn her head, she could see her hugely distended arms tapering to hands that had returned to their normal size. Leslie was still massive by any reasonable estimation, even though she was a mere fraction of her former size. She looked more like an overinflated doll, whereas before she’d been a weather balloon with feet. She smiled, laughing with relief.
“You’re awake,” Roger said as he approached. “And in good spirits by the sound of it.”
“I’m not a blimp anymore,” Leslie said. “I was worried I might be stuck like that.”
He leaned over her and kissed her, gently stroking her tousled red locks. “Good morning.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.”
“You started getting smaller around midnight while you were asleep,” he said, looking her over. “Somehow the air was leaking out.”
“Enjoying the view?” she asked cocking an eyebrow. Roger quickly turned his gaze from her enormous bosom and back to her face.
“By the sound of things, so were you.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she chided.
“They are rather — enticing,” he said. “And large.” He reached out to gently press a hand to her colossal bosom and could clearly hear Leslie’s sharp intake of breath in response.
It was a fascinating sight. “Large” was an incredible understatement. His hand looked so small against the vast, pale surface of her breast. And although her dark pink areola was vastly diminished in size from last night, it was still far too large for him to cover it. And despite being swollen to several times its normal size, her nipple still looked absurdly small by comparison.
Her flesh was soft and yielded easily to his touch. Her pale skin was smooth and showed no distress from having been so impossibly overstretched. There were sharp transitions to a darker shade where her swimsuit hadn’t shielded her from the sun the previous day. At her current size, the rhythmic rise and fall of Leslie’s chest was barely discernible, but had noticeably quickened at Roger’s touch.
Roger turned his attention to Leslie’s face once again. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her freckled cheeks blushing.
“That feels a lot better than I was expecting,” she breathed.
“Do you want to?” Roger asked. “It would be a bit cumbersome, but you’re small enough now that we could probably manage it.” It felt strange to describe Leslie as “small” in her current state, but recent events had greatly altered Roger’s sense of scale.
Leslie bit her lip nervously. “I do, but I don’t?” she said. “I mean, I bet it would be amazing, but this is all pretty new to me. It’s definitely something I’d want to explore. But right now I really feel like a balloon, and I’m a little apprehensive about how a balloon might respond to a vigorous poking.”
“As you wish,” Roger said with a chuckle. “Coffee?”
“Coffee sounds wonderful.”
While the coffee was brewing, Roger made several attempts at standing her up. It was to no avail. With her decreased mobility Leslie was unable to maintain her balance. Even a small shift in weight resulted in a slow-motion fall and gentle bouncing.
“At least I have built-in airbags,” Leslie joked. They decided that the best course of action was to lean her against the sofa so she could be comfortable and mostly upright.
She could hear the clink of ceramic and silverware as Roger prepared the coffee, but with her back to the kitchen she couldn’t see him. It was frustrating. Will he remember? Cream, no sugar? This was the sort of thing she’d normally handle herself, but now couldn’t.
After taking a sip to make sure it had sufficiently cooled, Roger brought the mug to her lips. She smiled.
“Good?” Roger asked.
“You remembered.”
“Of course. Now, what would you like for breakfast?”
While Roger was cleaning up after breakfast, he heard Leslie grunting in the living room. He went to investigate and found Leslie flexing her arms. She’d strain to lift them as much as possible, then let them fall back to their resting position, sticking out nearly straight from her body. She’d repeat the process, bending them forward, then down, then up again.
“Under the circumstances, I think it’s okay for you to skip a day of aerobics,” Roger said.
“I’m trying to force the air out faster,” Leslie responded.
“Do you want me to help?” Roger offered. “I could — squeeze you?”
“Squeeze me? What, you’re not going to roll me to the juicing room first?” she teased.
“There’s no juice in there, that’s air,” he countered. “Besides, my juicing room’s out of commission. The living room will have to do.”
“That’s alright,” Leslie said with a laugh. “Honestly, I have no idea if this is speeding things up. But I’d rather do something besides sit here and wait.”
“Whatever makes you feel better.” He kissed her cheek. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Could you put something on the television? I could use the distraction.”
“Certainly.”
As much as she would have liked her thoughts to reflect the cheesy levity playing out in the sitcoms she was watching, Leslie couldn’t keep her mind from wandering into unpleasant places.
She knew that Roger had only meant it as a lighthearted quip and it was completely irrational for her to read anything more into it, but his comment about the juicing room had left her unsettled. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was one of her favorite movies. She’d long felt a deep kinship with Violet Beauregarde, and her recent experiences had strengthened that connection.
In the movie, Wonka stated that Violet had to be juiced immediately lest she explode. Had the juicing room not been available, that scene would have had a much darker tone to it.
What if Violet hadn’t been juiced in time? What if Roger hadn’t let go in time?
Leslie pushed the thoughts away and concentrated her attention on her arms. She could already feel her range of motion increasing as the air slowly left her.
After several episodes, Leslie wanted to test her progress.
“Roger, could you help me up?”
He lifted her from the couch and stood her upright.
“Okay, gonna let you go now.” Roger took a step back. Leslie swayed a bit, but managed to adjust and remain vertical.
“I can stand!” she cried out overjoyed. Her spirits lifting, Leslie’s ambitious drive was returning. She shifted her weight to left, lifting her right foot. Carefully, she swung it forward. And set it down. She then shifted right and brought her left foot forward.
“Oh my God, I can walk!”
“Where do you want to go first?” Roger asked.
“The bedroom,” Leslie replied.
“Changed your mind about some pneumatic naughtiness?” Leslie was already lumbering away from him, so he couldn’t see the look of consternation on her face.
“No. I’m exhausted from that workout. Now that I can, I want to sleep in an actual bed.”
As it turned out, regaining the ability to walk wasn’t the only hurdle she had to clear to get to the bed. She was too big around to make it through the doorway on her own. Roger had to pull her through the doorway sideways. She just barely squeezed through, and nearly smothered herself with her own bosom in the process. He helped her onto the bed and laid a sheet on top of her. It couldn’t completely cover her, but she didn’t even notice. By the time the sheet was in place, she was already snoring.
Leslie awoke to a number of pleasant surprises. Most of the air had left her. Her limbs were still quite puffy, but she could easily bend her knees and elbows now. And to top it off, most of the air that remained had settled in places where she was naturally curvy. Even though she still had a prominent paunch, her hugely swollen breasts and backside gave her the most exaggerated hourglass figure she’d ever seen.
It’s a bit much, but I guess getting blown up isn’t all bad. Admiring her new shape in the mirror, she gave a quick shimmy and watched with amusement as her various swells quivered and jiggled long after she’d stopped.
The end of Leslie’s ordeal was in sight. She was still comically curvaceous, but she didn’t mind much. At least she could now move with relative freedom and easily fit through doorways. She was no longer trapped in her own body and could leave the house if she wanted to. Assuming she could find clothes that fit, of course.
But her first order of business was to get a shower. She giggled at the loud patter of droplets against her swollen body as she sudsed herself up. The warm water and fragrant foam relaxed her. She revelled in her ability to reach most of her body; she would never again take that for granted.
Leslie searched through her drawer to see if she had any clothes that were stretchy enough to accommodate her. Of the few garments that she had any chance of squeezing into, most weren’t capable of providing much coverage. Leslie suddenly realized that her sense of modesty had returned. She hadn’t even noticed its departure. It wasn’t that she’d quite literally had bigger things to worry about. She’d been naked since she burst out of her swimsuit yesterday, but she didn’t feel naked when she was round. Now that her areolae were smaller than serving platters, she felt the need to cover them.
Underwear simply wasn’t an option yet. She didn’t even try. After an extended struggle, Leslie was able to stretch her leggings over her enormous posterior, and over the audible protests of the garment’s seams. Thank God for spandex. She gave up on her tops and borrowed one of Roger’s t-shirts. It covered her boobs, but left her bulging midriff exposed. Although she’d finally reached some minimal level of decency, she was reconsidering the wisdom of leaving the house. She was quite large, but she didn’t appear fat. Her firm, gravity-defying curves reflected her preposterous reality; she was a living balloon, and would certainly look the part to a casual observer.
“So what?” she mused, defiant. It’s not like being inflatable was a crime. She’d puffed herself up in front of people many times before, but never to this extent. She’d always limited herself to a size that people would dismiss. It was amazing what people could rationalize when faced with the impossible. Inflating that beachball for Roger was the first time she’d let someone see her pumped up to the point that her true nature was undeniable.
“And look where that got you,” she grumbled, giving her gigantic boob a squeeze. Strangers would stare, but likely just assume that she was some kind of freak of nature. But if she was recognized by anyone who knew her, her secret would be out. She couldn’t risk more people knowing.
Leslie sighed. She’d have to stay hidden away in Roger’s home for a bit longer.
“Mmmm,” she purred as she emerged from the bedroom. “That smells wonderful!”
“My cooking skills aren’t exactly top notch, but I figured I could manage a passable lasagna,” Roger said. He had just set the pan down. His jaw dropped when saw Leslie’s new curves.
“Still enjoying the view?” she asked with a grin. “After all, they’re a lot smaller than they were this morning.”
“So’s the rest of you. But I have to say, I’m liking the proportions.” He pulled her in close for a kiss, running his hands over rounded bottom. “What do you think?”
Leslie glanced down at her bulging cleavage. She was so big, Roger couldn’t get close without her breasts squeezing against his chest.
“I know I look and feel pretty impressive, but this is a bit overboard. But at the rate I’m shrinking, I think I’ll be at a pretty fun size by the time we’re done with dinner.”
“So maybe after dinner, we could have some dessert?” Roger asked hopefully.
Leslie licked her lips. “Maybe,” she chirped. He pulled out a chair for her and they sat down for dinner.
“Thank you,” Leslie said as Roger refilled her wine glass. “Dinner was wonderful, by the way.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he replied.
“You’re lucky I’m such a good sport,” Leslie said. “I can’t imagine any other woman being so understanding after her boyfriend blew her up.”
“Technically, you blew yourself up,” Roger corrected her.
“Is that really a hair that you wanna try to split, mister?” Leslie glared at him sternly.
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in surrender. “And you’re right. I am lucky in so many ways. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not furious with me.”
“I am. Kind of.”
Leslie was so deeply conflicted it was hard for her to think straight. Despite her generally bold nature, she’d never been aggressive about pushing the limits of her ability. She had no idea what would happen if she went too far. Sure, she might just spring a leak and deflate like a cartoon character. But she knew all too well what happened when you put one puff too many into a balloon. And you never know how many is too many until it’s too late.
But now thanks to Roger she knew her capacity far exceeding anything she’d ever imagined. There was so much to explore in her newly broadened horizons. A day had passed, and she was almost completely back to normal; everything had worked out in the end.
But what if it hadn’t? Things could have easily gone horribly, catastrophically wrong. And Leslie couldn’t purge that possibility from her mind.
“Good. You should be,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. My curiosity got the better of me, but I should have just asked you about your talent. Not doing so is one of my two great regrets from last night.”
“One of two?” Leslie asked. “What was the other one?”
“We never determined if you could fill that really big beach ball in one breath.”
“Are you serious?” Leslie scoffed. “After watching me blow myself up to the size of a weather balloon, do you really think that puny thing would give me any trouble at all?”
“So we’re in agreement now that you blew yourself up?”
“Hair,” she snapped.
“You’re right, what was I thinking?” Roger conceded. “Having seen what I’ve seen, it would be foolish for me to question your capabilities.”
“You really don’t think I can, do you?”
“I’m sure you can,” Roger said. “But at its rated maximum size it’s over six feet across, and it can probably handle a bit more—”
“I was definitely more than six feet wide last night,” Leslie retorted.
“Definitely,” Roger agreed. “I’m six feet tall, and you were a little taller than me.”
“Just a little?” Leslie asked, tersely.
“Well, we never actually measured you,” he said.
“Fine,” she said, setting her glass down. “We can settle once and for all just how much I’m capable of. Go get it.”
“Maybe we should settle this later, after you’ve fully deflated.”
“No, we’re going to settle this right now,” Leslie growled. “Get the ball.”
“You don’t have to —”
“Now.”
“Okay,” Roger said. It was all he could do to keep from smiling. Leslie was definitely getting back to normal; her competitive nature always got the best of her.
They returned to the living room, where Roger fetched the beach ball for her.
“You stand over there so I can keep an eye on you.” Leslie pointed toward the couch. “There will be no funny business this time.”
“Of course.” Roger stepped aside.
Holding the beach ball in one hand, Leslie closed her eyes and inhaled.
Her already distended body plumped up even more. Her her chest rose, her breasts billowed, her belly ballooned forth. Her shirt rode up, revealing more of her expanding form.
Leslie’s eyes snapped open; her steady intake of breath turned into a series of frantic gasps, her arms windmilling in panic. It took Roger a moment to realize what had happened; she was already swollen when she started, and had inadvertently puffed herself up to the point where she couldn’t properly maintain her stance. She’d lost her balance and was slowly listing forward.
“I’ve got you!” Roger shouted as he ran to her. He reached out to halt her descent, mostly winding up with two armfuls of Leslie’s billowing boobs. “Oops,” he said sheepishly. He looked up at Leslie’s bemused expression and realized that she’d stopped inhaling.
Suddenly, and with astonishing agility, Leslie grabbed his head with both hands, pulled him close, and brought their mouths together. Quickly, but not quickly enough, Roger realized she didn’t intend to kiss him.
Leslie blew.
It all happened so fast. A torrent of air rushed down his throat. First his torso surged outward, his belt painfully cinching his midsection. The seams of his jeans growled and popped as the increasing girth of his legs overwhelmed their strength. Through no accord of his own, his arms straightened, releasing his hold on Leslie’s bosom. They slowly rose as they filled, bursting his shirt’s stitches.
Roger tried to scream against the onslaught of Leslie’s exhalation, but only produced the faintest of muffled squeaks. His attempted cries were fueled by both fear and pain; his waist was still held in the death-grip of his belt, while his bodily continued to expand above and below. The pressure was immense; something would have to give, and soon.
Bang!
The belt made a noise like a gunshot when it finally failed. It flew to a far corner of the living room as Roger’s middle rushed outward with a loud bwoom. He was pretty sure he could feel Leslie giggling at the noise. He allowed himself to feel the briefest moment of relief; freed from his constraint, he didn’t feel nearly as full anymore.
Leslie seemed to take this as a challenge.
“Mmmrrph!”
Leslie blew even harder, and Roger ballooned even faster. His body rounded out, steadily absorbing his limbs as the ceiling grew ever closer. When he was nearly spherical, he felt the pressure within him rising. The swelling spread to his furthest extremities; first his hands puffed up, then his feet. He could even feel his manhood filling and stretching. Finally, his cheeks began to bulge, pushing Leslie’s hands apart.
He was running out of places to grow. With a rising sense of terror, Roger wondered whether Leslie would stop before it was too late.
He was certain that point was mere moments away when Leslie finally relented. She released her hold on him before heaving one final gust of breath.
“Wow, I wasn’t sure that would work,” Leslie said. She looked down at herself with a mix relief and disappointment. While blowing into Roger she had completely deflated. Although she was happy to be back to her normal, petite self, she missed having a bit more more bounce to her figure.
It looked like Roger was trying flail about in panic, but his struggles only resulted in a bit of slow rocking.
“Wh-what...what have...” It was only with great effort that Roger could utter even that little bit. His face and lips were hugely swollen.
“What have I done?” she asked. “Let me clear that up for you. I blew you up. See? Simple. No hairs to split here.”
“B-b-but...why?”
“Why? Why? Do you really have to ask that after what you put me through?”
“I’m so sorry…”
Leslie had been wondering how long it would take for Roger to actually apologize for what he’d done to her. At this point the words felt as hollow as Roger himself.
“You damned well better be! I could have been hurt! I could have been stuck as a living blimp forever! I could have fucking exploded!” Leslie trembled, blinking back tears of rage. “So I think you’ve earned this. We can call it even now.”
“I feel like I’m —”
“About to burst?” Leslie finished for him, giving his drum-taut skin a soft pat. “I know, I’ve been your shoes before, remember?” Although Leslie had to admit to herself that the shoes seemed to be fitting Roger much more tightly than they did her.
It made sense; Leslie had been inflating for most of her life before her big blowup. This was Roger’s first time, and she’d made him huge. She’d assumed that since Roger was a bigger person than she was, he could handle more air. At his highest point he nearly touched the ceiling; he was significantly larger than she’d been and he appeared to be under much more stress. As frighteningly firm as his body felt, she wouldn’t dare try to climb on top of him.
Roger’s reaction echoed her concerns. The pressure inside him greatly magnified the sensation of her gentle touch.
“Please, d-don’t! I’m too full!”
“Calm down, you’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ll just have to wait it out like I did. Maybe this can be a learning experience for you as well.”
“Help,” he whimpered. “It’s too much! I can’t--”
“And don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for what I’ve learned from this,” she continued, dismissing his fearful cries. “Now I know that I can stay inflated and that I can deflate afterwards. And I can inflate other people. That’s amazing! I just know I’m going to get myself into so much trouble with that.”
Roger found her gleeful grin and wide-eyed excitement to be more than a little disconcerting.
“And I meant what said this morning. I’m really looking forward to finding out how it feels to make love while inflated. But that won’t be today,” Leslie said with a sigh, “and it won’t be with you.”
“What?”
“We’re done, Roger. Maybe in time I could forgive you, but I’ll never be able to really trust you. I think it’s for the best if I just grab my things and go.”
“No! Please, don’t leave me like this! I’ll — uuurrrrrghh!” Roger clamped his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as his body shuddered, groaned, and swelled.
“Oh shit!” Leslie reflexively took a step back; as he grew, Roger’s skin had flushed to an alarming shade of pink.
Is he right? Did I go too far? What if he can’t hold all that air in?
“On second thought, I can get new things,” she said, her voice quavering. She picked up her purse and quickly walked to the front door. She wouldn’t want to be anywhere nearby if something precipitous were to happen.
“No!” Roger screamed.
“Goodbye, Roger.” Leslie shut the door behind her.