Melody Pop

Inflation Types:
Date Written: 

Melody never felt like this before, at least, not in the waking world. She could feel herself grow and luxuriated in the knowledge that her power over men, already substantial and honed to a fine point, was about to be exponentially enhanced. The hiss of air slowed and stopped but the snug sensation of her chest, confined in the strong layers of clothing made her smile to herself. She would be unstoppable with breasts this size.

Then the plug was let out of her world. Her dive buddy pressed the purge button and the buoyancy jacket deflated. The sensation of huge, air filled breasts protruding from her chest left her in a smooth whoosh, leaving her substantial lady bumps unchanged.

Melody returned from her reverie to find her buddy waiting for the corresponding equipment check. She masked her disappointment that she was not sporting the be all and end all of boobs and allowed her enthusiasm for the dive return, but knew she would give up the sport if it were the price of personal floatation devices that would gain the attention of any breast worshipping man or woman she came across.

After diving, debriefing and grabbing a quick meal, melody returned to her motel suite for an alleged early night. She packed her dive gear in its bag and set about running a relaxing bath.

While the water ran, she thought over her recent epiphany, that inflating her buoyancy jacket would finally give her the sensation she had been seeking since puberty awoke her interest in ballooning feminine appendages. It seemed so real, so immediate, she entirely forgot she was at sea. The instructor’s instructions were ignored and for the few moments the sensation lasted, she was in heaven. She owned the world. Apart from the pleasure she imagined would come from larger, rounder, bouncier breasts, she craved the attention and worship they would bring her. Her breasts already attracted admiring glances and flattering overtures. Bigger could only mean better.

Melody had an idea. She didn’t resist it for a second and unpacked her dive gear, carrying the jacket, hoses and a tank into the en-suite. The bath was ready and she dropped her robe as she stepped in.

The regulator was attached to the tank, the jacket was attached to the hose and trussed into place over her breasts. Melody lay back in the hot water and closed her eyes, savouring the anticipation. Her hand grasped the control and gently depressed the inflate button.

The hiss of air expanding from the tank began quietly but the sensation of her breasts expanding was immediate. In her mind’s eye she could see them pushing forward and out, stretching her clothes in the fight to be free and on display to all the world.

She pressed the button more firmly and the expansion surged. Her excitement at being in control of her body and power was escalating. She felt the constricting jacket fight to hold her in. The tiny voice in her mind asserting that it was a tactile illusion caused by tightening clothing was told to take a hike.

She pressed the button hard and the racing gas whooshed down the hose and into her chest. She writhed gently on the floor of the tub but found she made less and less contact with each movement. Praise be, her breasts were so big they made her float.

She knew things were reaching an impasse. She heard Velcro strain to hold, felt the crushing pressure of her breasts/the jacket pushing against her ribs. The moment was almost over but disappointment was tempered by the idea that she could repeat the performance until the hot water or the air ran out.

A last gasp of air phutted into the jacket and she released the button. Melody floated serenely at the surface of the water, her smile wide as she contemplated life as an inflatable sex goddess.

A thought passed fleetingly. What if it was a wish come true. What if she opened her eyes to find breast flesh straining to escape from every gap in the jacket. Would she inflate herself beyond the boundary she had reached? Would she go for broke and blow herself up to within a gasp of popping?

Damn straight she would. She’d blow herself up to fill the room, the house, the yard. She’d try helium and become her own lighter than air transport. She’d blow herself up in public, on TV and on the net. People would worship her and her inflatable assets everywhere she went. And she would blow herself up in private to be the balloon love doll of any man she chose.

She savoured the thought for a long time and opened her eyes.

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