First of all, I would never pick up a hitchhiking stranger. Ever. But she was neither hitchhiker nor a stranger. I knew her from somewhere- around campus maybe. I even knew her name. It starts with a D, I think. She’s rocking that whole tomboy thing: That short hair, tight ass, tittieless, t-shirt, jeans and sneakers kind of look that most chicks out grow by the 6th grade. She’s not your everyday day hot, but scorching nonetheless. But that’s not why I slowed to pick her up.
Secondly, I’m not so brash as to stop some lone female out for an evening jog and offer her a ride. This girl was definitely NOT jogging. She was running. Running like she was being chased. There is danger in her exhausted and unsteady strides. She might not be waving me down, but she is pleading for help.
I didn’t even stop. I just pulled along side her, opened the passenger door and without looking at me, without breaking stride, without a single word she hopped into the passenger seat of my Toyota pick-up, closed the door and we were off to-
“Off campus housing. Lanning Street.” She breathes.
I said something like, “I live on Lanning Street.”
“I know. We’re neighbors. Larissa, my roommate, dated your roommate last semester.”
Dawsie! That’s her name. Dawsie. Dan and Larissa tried hooking us up. I can’t remember why it didn’t work out. I think we all just ended up getting really stoned, watched ‘Lost’ and passed out on my sofa. I didn’t even make a move. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?” I’m terrible at small talk, “Bio-Chem, right? That’s your major. Bio-chem?”
“Listen, James, can you go any faster? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m in a bit of a rush? Fuck! Is that clock right?” She gestured dramatically with both hands to the digital clock on my dashboard.
“Yeah. Well it’s a couple minutes off, but…”
“A couple minutes? Two minutes? Fast or slow?”
“Slow. Two minutes slow.”
“Shit.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Ask me at 11:23.” She huffs.
The clock reads 11:18pm
“What happens at 11:23?”
“Hopefully nothing. I can see you’re going a little bit faster, but would it be possible to go a lot faster. Again, I don’t mean to be rude.”
“Would it be possible to put your seatbelt on?” Truth be told, I didn’t give a shit whether or not she was buckled in, but I was captain of the ship and I needed to regain control.
Dawsie looks at me with a confounded expression as if the request were some how obscene or inappropriate. After a moment’s hesitation, she stretched the belt across her torso and clicked it secure. I step on the gas. We’re cruising at 60 in a 35 zone.
“So” I ask, breaking the silence, “How’s Larissa? I haven’t seen her since she and Dan split. She’s a pretty cool girl…”
Dawsie isn’t paying attention. She pulls a phone from her pocket and begins dialing. God she was gorgeous. Her face glowing from her run, chest heaving, a few damp locks cling to her forehead. Her pink nipples are clearly visible through her sweat drenched t-shirt. Tiny boobs like hers don’t require support. I try not to stare. She pressed her phone to her ear, as the other end of the line is starts to ring:
“Dawsie?” A quivering voice answered.
“Yeah. It’s me. How are you? How’s Danielle?”
“I’m fine. I’m…umm…well, not stopping. Danielle’s humongous, Dawsie. She’s…round.”
“Round?”
“Yeah, round. Like a ball or something. She’s really big Dawsie and she’s starting to freak out. Actually, I am too. This is really weird. You have to get back here, quick!”
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying. I got a ride from this guy…”
“James.” I interjected.
“…We’re almost to the house. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Ahhhgg!”
“What! What happened?”
“My buttons just popped off!”
“Try to relax. I know it’s scary, but it will stop. There is a limit. You have to relax.”
“I’ll try, but hurry!”
Dawsie hung up.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, no prob.” She feigns a casual tone, but she is obviously tense. Her legs crossed tightly at the knee. Her thumbs drum nervously against her thigh. “A little science experiment gone awry.”
“That sounded like Larissa. Is she all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I need to grab something from my house real quick. Would you mind giving me a ride back to the Chem-lab afterwards?”
“Sure. You bet. I was thinking about the last time we hung out and what a good time I had and…”
Her thumbs stop drumming. “Oh shit” She whispers.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you dating someone or…”
“Not here. Please, not here” Dawsie draws in a quivering breath. She starts to rub her belly with her palms.“ James” She says in a serious tone, “Something really weird is about to happen and you can’t freak out, okay?”
“What’s gonna happen?”
Dawsie unbuttons her jeans and unzips her fly. I can see a wedge of her white panties.
“Jesus Christ!” I’m not used to the unsolicited removal of clothing.
She’s fiddling with the female end of the seatbelt. “The latch. It’s stuck!”
“Yeah.” I say. “It does that sometimes. You just have to get an angle on it. We’re not there yet. Keep it on.”
Dawsie tugs wildly on the restraint. “No! No! You don’t understand.” The whole car shifts to the right with reach frantic pull. I felt it in the steering wheel. I took my foot off the accelerator. The truck slows.
“What are you doing?” She screamed, “Go! Go!”
I pulled over to the side of the road. We were about four blocks from her house. “I’m not moving an inch until you tell me what’s happening.”
“Fine. I’ll walk. GET ME OUT OF THIS SEATBELT!”
“I can help. I just want to know what I’m getting into. That’s all.” I tried to remain calm in the face of a wet t-shirt wearing goddess with her pants undone locked into my passenger seat.
“I’m gonna blow up! There, you happy?”
Not the answer I was expecting. “Blow up? Like a bomb?”
“Like a balloon.” She relaxed into her seat and put her hands to her face. She was embarrassed.
“Are you stoned? Are you on shrooms?”
“James. Look at me. Any second now I’ll start inflating. I’m gonna get huge.”
“What?”
She lifts her t-shit to just above her navel. She grabbed my hand and placed it on her low on her tummy. My pinky was on the waistband of her panties. Her abdomen was warm and still a bit damp with perspiration. She clasped her hand over mine. Her belly raises and falls with each breath. I could feel a rumbling just beneath the surface.
The clock on my dashboard switches to 11:23pm. Dawsie looks defeated “Here I go…”
She smiles meekly.
And with that her tummy begins to grow. The folds in her flesh are pulled taut as she swells up. It feels like my hand is being pressed into a water balloon. There is a gushing, liquid torrent beneath the surface and it is rapidly filling her. A pot belly bulge has developed beneath her navel, spreading my shaking fingers. I pulled my hand away leaving her hands alone, gripping the expanding mound of her midsection. The lap strap of the seatbelt stretched over the dome like a racing stripe on a VW Bug.
Dawsie’s doe-eyes turn to chest. In one smooth motion, her nipples harden then surge forward on the billowing masses of her expanding breasts. Dawsie’s boobs jiggle as they fill, her pink jellybean nipples peer through the white cotton like insane eyes, widening as they press outward. The scene is accentuated by the seatbelt cross strap which crosses her chest diagonally, between her breasts, holding her shirt tight against her and holding her tight against the seat.
Her wet shirt offered no privacy. It was like watching her body swell through a screen of white smoke. Her cone-shaped breasts were lively, vibrating with each tiny movement. They jutted strait out from her ribcage like dangerous piercing weapons. But after a moment or two, their quality changed, the undersides of her boobs dipped slightly with the growing weight. They filled out into a pair of jiggling teardrops.
At the same time, her legs uncontrollably uncrossed. Her jeans groaned as her thighs thickened. The increasing girth of her thighs forced her legs to spread slightly. Her crotch slightly puffed to meet the expanding arch of her belly. The base of her zipper strained to hold together.
I Slowly removed my seatbelt and inched away from her. Overall, she wasn’t swelling as much as she was filling. Any part of Dawsie that was once allowed to bounce or wiggle was being stretched to capacity. She looked like an over-inflated love doll. Stitching popped as her butt ballooned lifting her up an inch or two as if on a pneumatic lift. The seatbelt reluctantly gave the poor girl some slack.
I pressed myself into my side of the truck, my trembling hands frantically searching for the door handle that would allow me to escape.
“James?” Dawsie said calmly. “James, it’s okay. I know this looks weird, but…”
“Are you going to pop?”
“No. No, but I am going to get big. Really big. And I’ll need help to move. Are you listening?”
Dawsie’s tits, once non-existent, but now the size of two jumbo oranges, had found the limit of the white cotton t-shirt. Not willing to yield any more space for her increasing bosom, her busty surge forward was halted. They began to spread to the sides. Outward to her armpits, inward to the seatbelt cross strap, upwards to her collar and down to her basketball belly, her breasts were filling any vacant space her tiny top had to offer. Her sides began to fill, puffing out over the sides of her jeans like a muffin top. Inch by inch the seatbelt gave way to her breadth.
“We need to get you to a doctor. This isn’t normal.”
“We don’t have time. I can fix this.”
“No. We’re going to the hospital.” I grip the wheel. I rev the engine.
“James, Do you want to see me naked?”
I look over into her glassy, brown eyes, then down to her ballooning figure.
“Of course…I mean, yes…I mean…what?”
“Naked James, naked. My tits, my pussy, everything. I’m going to get big. I’m going to burst out of these clothes. And you can watch it happen, but I need your help. I need to get to my house and I need you to get back to the lab. Can you do that?”
What could I say?
We were off. Speeding through the quiet residential streets. Every pothole causing an ocean of motion through my passenger, every turn of the vehicle sending a vicious feminine wave to this side and that. Finally we arrived at her house. We came to a screeching halt in her driveway. Her tummy, heaving forward with momentum, popped the zipper from her jeans with a metallic ping. She was definitely blowing-up now.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“Well, first I have to get out of this seatbelt.”
I pressed the button and jiggled the lock. The seatbelt would not let go.
“Try to pull some slack on your side”
“There isn’t any more. I thought you said there was an angle?”
“There is. It’s towards you. Your hip is in the way.”
Breeeeeeeeeeeeeek- the seatbelt groaned.
“It’s getting really tight. This is bad!”
“You’re blowing up and you’re worried about a seatbelt?”
“I can’t breath!”
It was digging into her midsection. She was trying to compress her beach ball belly with her hands. She tried pushing the strap away from her F-cup breasts. It was no use. As she ballooned up the straps were sinking further and further into her. Her boobs were being forced up and out her v-neck collar. She let out a little whine as they rose like a pair of soufflés, traveling up her neck closing in on her chin.
We skidded to a halt. We made it to her house
I removed the keys from my ignition, got out of the car, crossed around to the passenger side, flung the door open and proceeded to cut the top corner of the seatbelt with my key chain pocket knife. I barley needed to touch it with the blade. The strap was under so much tension that once a small cut was made it snapped like sewing thread. The belt cracked across Dawsie like a whip. Free from restraint her massive teardrop tits dropped back into her shirt. As they bounced and swayed they expanded another couple inches outward with a rubbery squeak.
“Thanks. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Huh?” I was lost in her voluptuous bouncing figure. “Oh, the seatbelt. Don’t worry about it. No better demise than being sandwiched to death between two enormous… Sorry. Listen, we should get inside before someone sees you? Can you walk?”
“I think so. Step back.”
I did. She swung her legs out. Supporting her ample bust in her arms she rocked back and then like a great pendulum swung forward over her heels onto her feet. Even in this ridicules, swollen state, she was graceful. Another thing about Dawsie: She is short. I forgot how short until she was upright next to me. 5’ 2” at the most. Not even up to my chin. She stood in front of me like an overstuffed teddy bear. Legs slightly spread, arms raised and two button-like eyes looking helplessly up at me. Beautiful curves were bursting from every seam. An extreme exaggeration of everything feminine. Dawsie pulled her shirt down over her tummy. It nearly covered her belly button.
Dawsie took a step towards her door, but stumbled sideways, falling into me. I caught her around the waist. It was a strange sensation, touching her. She was warm and she was definitely getting close to full. Her tummy vibrated rather than jiggled. I lifted her upright.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“It’s my jeans. They’re too tight. I can’t move my legs.”
I crossed behind her. Sure enough the stitching on her back pockets began to burst. Her midsection was getting bigger. Her hourglass figure was giving way to a more pear-like shape. Her jeans, now stretched to a shine, creaked and moaned as they filled. It was as if a yoga ball in her lower belly was being inflated. It not only widened her belly, but her butt, her hips her lower back and her…
“Oh my god!” she yelped, then immediately covered her mouth. Her words echoes through the vacant residential street.
The pressure must have been immense. Her entire body was trembling. Her cantalope boobs chugged in front of her. Dawsie squeezed her midsection, trying in vein to hold herself in, but it was no use. Her lower torso was perfectly round and spreading recklessly in every direction. She looked to me for help. I dove behind a bush and covered my head.
“ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…”
It sounded as if someone had popped a colossal inflated paper bag. The concussion literally blew my hair back.
For a moment it was snowing little denim swatches. Dawsie’s jeans had exploded off of her. I lifted myself from my hiding place and looked for the girl. She was nowhere to be seen. The front door was wide open. She had apparently made her way inside her house. I decided to wait for her in the front yard.
After some commotion (thumping around, breaking glass, what not), the living room light clicked on. Through the blinds I could see her blown-up silhouette rummaging through the house looking for what I guessed to be the cure for her little problem. Looking at her outline against the window I could see that Dawsie’s bust line had grown considerably. In the 30 seconds since I last saw her, her breasts had begun to perk up, becoming more pneumatic. As I watched her shadow, they bobbed in front of the girl like two fleshy bowling balls, alert and buzzing to each tiny movement.
A phone rang. It wasn’t mine. It was coming from somewhere close by. In the gutter, about 15 feet away was a cell phone. It was Dawsie’s phone. It must have blown from her jean pocket when they met their thundering demise. I picked the phone up. The incoming call was from Larissa. I answered:
“Hello?”
“Who is this?” She sounded distant. Like she was on speakerphone.
“James, Dave’s roommate. I gave Dawsie a ride home.”
“Oh, right. How is she?”
“Well, she’s…uh… She’s inside the house. I’m going to give her a ride back to the lab. But Larissa, something funny happened on the way here. She started to swell up.”
“I was worried that would happen. I blew up too. So did our friend, Danielle. We’re getting really big over here. REALLY big! Can you remind Dawsie to…”
Larissa babbled on. I forgot what a chatterbox she was. I continued to watch Dawsie’s outline bounce around the room. In profile, her boobs dominated her figure, but when she turned facing me I could see that the mass of her bulk was the great globe that encompassed her butt, hips and tummy. Dawsie was at least three feet across at her thickest point. And as she continued to swell, the globe was widening the gap between her legs and gradually forcing her crotch downward. Slowly, but surely her thick thighs we’re fusing with her ballooning torso.
“…And 2 pairs of stretch pants. Even after the injection it may take a while for us to deflate. You should see Danielle. It’s incredible.” Larissa almost sounded excited.
“What’s happening to you girls?”
“Did Dawsie tell you anything?”
“No.”
“We were working on a growth accelerator for fruits and vegetables for an agricultural science class. It was supposed to be all on paper. Theory, right? But when we stumbled onto a formula that worked, we took an extra step fallowed it through to a product. We were scared that other students had found the same formula, so we wanted to put ours to practical testing first. It worked. It worked really well on all sorts of vegetation with no apparent side effects on rats, or rabbits or monkeys. But we needed to do a human test.”
“So you tested it on yourselves! Are you nuts?”
“We had no reason to suspect anything like this would happen…”
I watched Dawsie continue to hobble about the living room. Digging through shelves, throwing items about, searching wildly for the antidote. Every time she passed by the window, her shadow seemed slightly larger, slightly rounder.
“…No one wanted to go first, so we took it at the same time in different levels of potency. Danielle had it undiluted; she began to swell almost immediately. I took a 50% water mix and I started to grow within 10 minutes. Dawsie had a 75% mix. I’m guessing she started, what 5 minutes ago?”
“Yeah, about that.”
“I found it!” Dawsie exclaimed from inside the house. She threw her fist victoriously into the air; a small was vile clasped in her fingers. Her up-stretched arm began to puff up. The jaw dropped on her silhouetted profile as her upper arms billowed out into two miniature zeppelins.
“She found it Larissa. We’re on our way.”
“Wait James! Before you go…”
“Yeah. What?”
“How does she look?”
“Bloated.”
“Sure, but she looks sexy too, right! It’s fun to watch, I know, but it FEELS even better. Did she grow boobs? How big are they? Oh, I would have loved to watch them…”
I ended the call. Larissa must have gone mad with the experience. I didn’t want to admit to myself that Dawsie did look amazing all juiced up. This whole thing was too bizarre to take in.
Meanwhile, Dawsie’s victory arm was forced down while her other arm was being pushed up by it’s increasing girth. She stood in front of the window, frozen in a starfish-like stance.
“JAMES! HELP!” Dawsie cried.
I rushed inside. Seeing her outline was one thing. Seeing her now in person was quite different. She was like a gigantic, cartoon pear. Technically, she was clothed. The white cotton that made up the entirety of her outfit- that is to say her panties and her t-shirt- were both stretched to a milky translucence. Dawsie’s v-neck was barley able to conceal the underside of her basketball tits. The straining shirt was more like a bra. Her midsection was closing in on four feet in width, making her just over a foot taller than she was wide.
Her arms were moving in little circles, apparently the extent of their movement. I watched her armpits slowly invert, then bulge downward to eventually become flush with her belly. At the same time her shoulders filled effectively turning the length of her arms into distended cones. Gradually, the little circle ceased as all movement was robbed from her arms. Her belly had ballooned into a glossy, peachy-pink orb that arched from just below her boobs to just above her knees where it met with the remainder of her lower thighs.
Dawsie turned her head to me, her body stayed in a ¾ profile. She took one look at my bowling ball expression and her cheeks turned bright red.
“Don’t laugh.”
“Oh my god. Dawsie…” I collected myself, “Larissa just called. We have to go.” I tried to sound assertive and business-like.
“I can’t move. My legs aren’t working.”
I wonder why. The base of her bloated torso hovered just 6 inches from the ground. It wouldn’t be long now before her plumped little legs would be completely overtaken by her body and her feet lifted from the floor by her swollen crotch.
“Maybe we can…” I paused. Was it a stupid idea? “Maybe we can roll you.”
She let out a quick laugh, and then considered it. “Do you think I’ll roll?”
I poked her belly. She looked ready to pop, but as my finger sunk into her belly, I realized she has a ways to go. I pushed on it a bit harder. It sent a wave through her. She sloshed in place like a waterbed. Her boobs bobbed. Her arms gently flapped. She teetered a bit, but caught her balance. If we tried to roll her now she would sink into place like a flat tire.
“I don’t know. I feel funny saying this, but you might not be big enough yet.”
“Should we try” She shook the vile with what little motion her wrist would allow. “I need to get this back to the lab. We need to mix it. Larissa and Danielle are waiting for…”
“They’re fine. In fact, judging from the conversation, Larissa is better than fine. Give it a minute or two. You’re blowing up so fast, you’ll be ready to roll in no time.”
Dawsie’s nervous face broke into a laugh. Her body vibrated with her.
“Thanks.” She said, “I’m glad I’m not alone right now. I don’t know what I’d do. I feel so weird.”
She was nearing five feet wide. Her body was overtaking her calves. The base of her body, her pussy, was three inches from the floor. Her skin squeaked and whined as it pulled tighter and tighter.
“What does it feel like? Does it hurt?”
“There’s pressure, but it doesn’t hurt. Like after you had a really big meal and you’re full, but it’s a good full. It feels like that everywhere…”
The top of her pear- shape was filling out. Dawsie was getting round. The resiliently elastic panties lost their grip on the girl as the last of her curves disappeared. They rolled to the floor.
“…It feels like…”
The arch of her ass had slowly spread up her back until it met with her thick shoulder. As the base of her cone arms widened, her sleeves began to separate from the rest of her shirt. The stitching tore free with a soft ping, ping, ping. Her armpits had completely disappeared.
“…It feels like diving into a pool of ping-pong balls. They’re massaging me everywhere. Everywhere.”
As her shirt tightened, it squeezed her boobs in, deepening her grand canyon of cleavage, elongating the V of her v-neck.
“So it feels good?”
Dawsie nodded yes. “It feels good when you touch me.”
As I stepped towards her she took in a deep breath. Her lungs filled, her breasts heaved, her shirt split up the center. Two pink beach balls bloomed out. The tattered remains of her shirt fell to the floor. Dawsie was completely naked.
I approached her from the side. I bent to her. Our lips met. She was so warm, so sweet, so soft. She moaned. I opened my eyes. Her deep brown eyes were wide-open staring back at me. Then they looked down. Her pussy had reached the ground. She was lifted from her feet. I tried to pull away from our lip lock, but her hand gripped my shirt and kept me close.
She was breathing hard. I began to fondle her breast. Her eyes rolled back before gently closing again. I let my hand explore the vast expanse of her drum tight boob. Whatever torrent was filling her was still rushing beneath the surface. Eventually, I found her thimble-sized nipple. I tickled it between my fingers.
“James, help me cum.”
I was no longer bending over. She was nearly eye level with me. Her inflating, rounded body had lifted her toes eight inches from the floor. Dawsie had swelled into a near perfect ball. Her two feet and two hands flapped absurdly at her sides. Atop two firm dome breasts stood her erect nipples, their gaze steadily traveling in opposite directions as she blimped-up.
Dawsie’s gorgeous little face was perched on top of entire masterpiece. “Please James. Please.”
I gently pushed on her chest; she rolled back in massive slow motion, giving me plenty of time to undo my pants. They dropped to the floor. I grabbed her by the feet, stopping her revolution away from me. Dawsie was lying on what might be called her back. I slid into her and using her feet, smoothly rocked her.
She breathed deep with pleasure. The antidote dropped from her fist and spilled onto the carpet.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She was yelling. The closer she got to climaxing, the more she expanded. She was pushing 6 feet in diameter. There was an audible rubbery groan as Dawsie stretched beyond her capacity.
“Dawsie! You’re too big. You’re gonna pop!”
“Almost there! Don’t stop. Almost there!”
Her feet had spread beyond my reach. There was nothing else on her smooth surface to grab. It was like bear hugging the Astro Dome. With what little grip I had I leaned back allowing her to roll onto me. Still she filled. The weight was incredible and increasing. The pitch of the stretching sound was increasing. The pressure within her distended figure has reached it limit. Dawsie was about to burst.
“I’m cuming. JESUS, FUCKING, ASS-RAPE, CHRIST, I’M CUMING!”
She had the pillow talk of a sailor. I was in love.
Dawsie’s eyes rolled back, fallowed by her head, fallowed by her entire, massive body. She rolled right off of me, backwards somersaulting across the living room, bursting through a set of double doors that guided her wayward tumble down a hallway. As she rolled she was decreasing in size.
Propping myself up on my elbow I watched her graceful revolutions become lopsided as her body quickly deflated. Arms and legs emerged from the shrinking globe. They fumbled about noisily. She disappeared through the beaded doorway of the back bedroom.
I hopped to my feet, pulled up my pants and fallowed her path down the hall. She was in the bedroom, still naked, lying face down on the floor. I watched her balloon butt suck back into its perfect little shape. She sweaty skinned glistened in the low light. I fell down next to her. She turned to me.
“Well” she said, “We found a better antidote.”
“Should we tell Larissa and Danielle?”
“We could tell them… or we can demonstrate it. I’d like to try the accelerator on a guy. You game?”