Industrial Accident

Rachael's last day at work, and no she didn't quit.

“Rachael, I have a job for you”

The compressor on the factory floor had broken down again; Mr James, always sent the young blonde temp down to the factory when things went wrong. That way he could enjoy the view as she strolled out of the office in her tight skirt.

Rachael sighed; she knew of her boss’s lecherous nature, she was only here to earn enough money to pay off her overdraft from her first year at university. She couldn’t wait to get back down there, her home town seemed boring after the big city. She got up from her desk and tried to hide her ample breasts with her jacket as best she could as she walked towards Mr James’ office door. She hated the people she worked with, all men, all perverts in her eyes; they gawped at her curvaceous young body whenever she had to get up from her desk and thanks to Mr James, that was more often that she would like.

In Mr James’ office she found him sitting on his desk, legs crossed, trying to look as cool and casual as possible.

“Sit down Rachael”

Rachael sat down, as she was told; Mr James had positioned the seat so that when she sat down he could see right down her top.

“The compressor has broken down again Rachael… Rachael, I want you to go down to there to make sure it gets fixed. Ring back to tell me when it does”

Mr James clearly expected Rachael’s cleavage to answer back, but since it wasn’t about to he had to make do with Rachael.

“Do you really need me to go down there, surely you’ll know when it gets fixed”

“Of course I do Rachael, otherwise the men won’t bother to fix it, you know what they’re like.”

Rachael wasn’t one for arguing, she sighed again; he had a fair point but still, she knew it was just an excuse to get her in his office. She hadn’t failed to notice that he always closed the door when she came in. As she got up from the seat to walk out of the office, she pulled her jacket down to cover as much of her pert, round ass as possible.

Rachael liked to wear revealing clothing and was too independently minded to let an office full of perverts stop her. Well she certainly had the body for it; an hourglass figure that bulged everywhere it should and was slender and feline everywhere else. She had a very pretty face too, all doe eyed and plump lipped, and a cascade of long, lustrous blonde hair which she now flicked back as an act of defiance to Mr James as she walked through the door. She walked back through the open plan office, aware of the eyes of her colleagues following her rear as it followed her out of the room and down the stairs.

The testing room of the small tyre factory looked like a cross between a hi-tech lab and a mechanic’s workshop. There were lab style benches in the middle of the room and all sorts of equipment around the walls. One of these was an old air compressor, like the kind you get in petrol stations, which was used to inflate the tyres. By law two tyres in each batch of 100 had to be tested and whenever the compressor broke down production was halted until it could be repaired. The men from the factory were sitting around in their overalls, waiting for production to resume when Rachael walked in.

If Rachael hated the office then she despised the factory. The men here were cruder and as she walked over to where the foreman was stood one of them wolf whistled.

“Work that ass baby!”

A small group of men laughed raucously and made lewd gestures towards her. While she thought of them as pathetic losers, their crass remarks still made her very self conscious, especially of her E-cup breasts, she pulled her jacket round herself in an attempt to cover them. She asked the foreman about the compressor.

“Aye it’s broke” he replied. “An engineer’s been called, he’ll be here in about 10 minutes”

Rachael didn’t particularly want to wait that long.

“So… er… what exactly is…”

“blockage” The foreman cut her question short.

‘Is that all?’ Rachael thought. She was sure that she could easily unblock it with something and went over to the compressor. She took her pen and stuck it in the valve, sure enough there was something in there. She then stuck her finger in to try and get it out. She hadn’t noticed the pressure gauge rising, but the men had and backed away from the compressor.

“Don’t do that, it’s dangerous!” shouted the foreman.

It was too late, Rachael had almost dislodged the blockage when there was a loud bang. The compressor came loose from the wall and whatever was blocking it flew out towards Rachael’s face. Rachael squealed as she cowered away, the projectile just missing her and smashing a window on the opposite wall. As the compressor fell the sharp point of the valve stuck into Rachael’s inner left thigh, still hissing loudly as the compressed air escaped into her.

“Shit!” the foreman ran over to try and turn the compressor off, but the pressure inside was too great and rather than stop the flow of air, the knob controlling the valve blew off, hitting the foreman on the head and knocking him unconscious. The rest of the men backed away even further.

Rachael felt a sharp stabbing pain in her inner thigh when the valve punctured her skin. At first she didn’t realise that the compressor was still on, but then she felt a bit gassy and looked down at her stomach. What she saw were her thighs and stomach rapidly increasing in size as the compressor pumped her up.

“Oh my God!” screamed Rachael, “I’m being blown up like a balloon!”

Her stomach quickly grew that she looked nine months pregnant, but her thighs were swelling too, pushing her legs apart. She gasped, rubbed her bloated stomach with her hands and tried to push it back in, but it continued pumping up bigger and bigger, relentlessly rising like dough in an oven. Rachael’s pert ass pumped up like two weather balloons and her breasts began to expand too, causing the buttons to burst off her blouse one at a time and fly across the room.

Rachael was panicking screamed for the men to get help, one of them ran to the phone to dial for an ambulance, another rushed off upstairs to get Mr James; the remaining men stood fixed to the spot, amazed and horrified at what they were seeing. In the space of about a minute, Rachael had inflated until she looked like a parade balloon; clothes stretched tautly over her billowing flesh. Her arms and legs were now swelling up from the immense pressure inside her and she was wobbling around, struggling to remain upright as her legs and arms were forced apart into a star shape. All the buttons on her shirt had blown off leaving her bra exposed. In a series of bangs the stitching under her arms began to undo and up the side of her skirt also.

“I don’t think I’ve got much time left” gasped Rachael, feeling a bit faint. “Somebody please do something!”

Rachael continued to blow up in every direction, her whole front bulging out for about four feet, she couldn’t turn her head far enough round to see how big her butt was getting, but she could feel it brushing up against a desk which must have been at least three feet behind her a couple of minutes ago. The initial surge of expansion had slowed down as the compressor struggled to inflate her tautly stretched body much more. The pressure gauge was rising again, into the red area as the compressor forced more and more air into her protesting body. With a bang, the zipper on her skirt burst open revealing her silk, pink pants beneath, stretched to their limit by Rachael’s still swelling crotch.

One of the men shouted, “She’s gonna blow!, let’s get out of here” The men ran out of the room and shut the door behind them, but still continued to peer through the glass at the inflated Rachael, who was now about 8 feet in diameter.

“Come back!” shouted Rachael, “Somebody… ugh!... please help me!” the pressure inside her was making it difficult for her to speak.

She heard the sound of an ambulance outside, but it was maybe too late to save her. The compressor was now severely over pressurised and had now started rumbling and whistling as pressure tried to escape. The hissing from inside her had become much deeper and her body was making loud creaking noises as it tried to hold itself together. The ambulance men appeared at the door, along with Mr James. His jaw dropped when he saw what had happened to the beautiful young girl. Early in the morning, when he opened up and nobody else was in he had gone down to the testing room and pushed a piece of plastic into the valve so that it would break down and he would have an excuse to call Rachael into his office. He pushed his way past the paramedics and into the room, grabbed a crowbar and started desperately to whack the compressor in an attempt to puncture it.

“No!” shouted one of the paramedics and pulled him away.

Another of the paramedics tentatively squeezed the mass of inflating girl in front of him. He could feel the air still rushing inside her. Her body let out another loud creak and in an instant he decided it was hopeless. Any second now, the pressure would become too great and Rachael would explode. His priority was to make sure nobody else got hurt. The paramedics retreated back behind the door where a crowd has gathered from the office upstairs.

“Where… nnngh!... are you all?” screamed Rachael, she could no longer see the rest of the room over her breasts, which were about 3 foot wide. People in the crowd covered their ears and cowered away readying themselves for what was to come. Mr James made one last desperate attempt to save her, and burst back into the room.

“nnngh… ooooh! Gonna blow!” Rachael knew what was coming and closed her eyes tight shut as her swollen body let out one last groan.

Mr James was close enough to reach Rachael when, BOOM! She finally exploded, shreds of clothing and lumps of flesh flying out all over the room and through the still open door. Mr James was knocked from his feet by the blast of air and hit on his head by a belt buckle.

When the dust cleared the people outside saw the mess Rachael’s explosion had made. Anything that hadn’t been secured down was now scattered around the room, the windows were blown out tables and chairs tipped over. The walls and floor were covered in tattered clothing, a bra cup hanging from a swinging light bulb, half a pair of pants draped over a chair leg. In the middle of it all were Rachael’s shoes, still where she’d been standing and Mr James’ unconscious beside Rachael’s belt buckle.

The factory log book reported that a temporary worker, Rachael Cornerton had been killed when a compressor in the room exploded, the factory manager Richard James had been killed also as he tried heroically to save her; other people escaped with minor injuries or were receiving treatment for shock.