Having been a smoker since the age of sixteen, Marti made many attempts to break the habit. She first went cold turkey at nineteen when she couldn’t afford to buy cigarettes, but found herself bumming smokes at every opportunity.
At twenty-two, her boyfriend introduced her to nicotine gum. It tasted unsavory and did little for her cravings, so she dumped both the gum and the boyfriend.
At the age of twenty-five, she tried the patch. After making herself sick from applying too many at once, she found smoking to be safer after all.
Pushing thirty, Marti made a last-ditch effort at finding an alternative. Through extensive research, she happened upon electronic cigarettes. Not only did they appear to be healthier, but Marti was thrilled to find that they came in delicious flavors.
After slogging through the flood of reviews, message boards, videos, and testimonials, Marti wearily settled on a brand of e-cigarette at random and ordered a getting-started kit.
When the box arrived, Marti spent the afternoon reading manuals and preparing. Jargon such as “atomizer” and “vaping” along with the assembled cigarette looking like a black magic marker made her feel like a science fiction character. She filled a blank cartridge with dulce de leche flavor, loaded it, and took her first vape.
It was heavenly.
Marti drained the cartridge dry, finding it increasingly difficult to exhale the delicious vapor. With her second cartridge (this time, chocolate mousse) Marti trapped the vapor within her, savoring each vape like a consummate stoner, before exhaling.
With the third cartridge, caramel mocha, Marti didn’t exhale. Instead, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a delicious dreamscape. She didn’t notice her jeans’ tightness until the cartridge was empty. She ran her hands up and down her figure and released her vapor in a gasp of shock. Her breasts were more buoyant, her flat stomach was flat no longer, and her hips had enough swagger to knock a military contingent dead.
Marti scoured the documentation and found nothing about electronic cigarettes having “increased voluptuousness” as a side-effect. Was trapping the vapor causing the dramatic change in her physiology? Curiosity got the better of her, so she took in cherry cola flavored cartridge four.
By the end of the cartridge, the button of her jeans rocketed to freedom. A round belly poked from beneath her top and her brassiere seemed four sizes too small. As Marti made her way to her mirror for inspection, she felt as though she was hopping on the moon.
Sans clothing, she looked like a hyper-sexualized love doll made real. Despite the enormity of her breasts, they were perkier than ten years ago. Her stretched belly was less like a gut and more like a dome, and she swore that her robust thighs squeaked as they brushed together. When she gazed over her shoulder to get an eyeful of her backside, her jaw dropped. Her widened hips melded into an ass of immeasurable size. All she could think was that she looked like “one of those rap guy’s girlfriends.”
Through poking and pinching, she discovered that her skin yielded but it had no heft. It was as though her meat was as insubstantial as the vapor she absorbed. This enraptured her.
With the fifth (French vanilla) cartridge down, she could jump to the ceiling and float down as lightly as a feather. Her billowing hips and buttocks were too broad to fit comfortably on her couch and her abundant breasts and belly obscured most of her vision.
By the sixth cartridge, banana crème, Marti was floating both literally and metaphysically.
Her body was more a collection of luscious spheres than anything that resembled a normal feminine silhouette by the time she drained her seventh cartridge of its apple pie flavor. She could no longer maneuver herself to the ground to refill her cartridge. Worse yet, Marti’s arms were too fluffy for the dexterity needed to put the e-cigarette to her lips.
Having vaped herself into a human zeppelin, Marti helpless bobbed against the ceiling while pouting and creaking.
Darkness fell and her body was no less pneumatic. Though Marti couldn’t see the time, her roommate should be home shortly. They would then figure out a way to get Marti down that didn’t involve sharp objects. In the mean time, Marti lulled herself to sleep with thoughts of open windows and fluffy, vanilla-flavored clouds.