Power Lunch, The

Power lunches, something Nicole had only seen done in the city, important business conducted over a quick salad or ciabatta in a café close to the office. Nicole didn’t really have time for all this yuppie faddism but she wanted to fit in with her colleagues, make friends and move up the career ladder. Thus, when a colleague said they were going to “do” a power lunch, Nicole self grudgingly agreed to join them. It was after all about a design issue which she was deeply interested in and wanted to become more involved. Nicole was a recent graduate in built environment studies and worked for a firm of consultant engineers and designers, she was currently just writing planning application advice for clients and was eager to get more involved in the design side. She wanted to impress the chief designer who would be at this power lunch so she tagged along with the small group to a café round the corner from the office which was popular with yuppie types.

The café was small and personal, cleanly and crisply decorated with glass and pine tables, black and white pictures on the walls and plants by the windows and in every corner. The group sat down, clustered around the designer and a barista came over to take their orders. Everyone ordered some kind of light salad and macchiato, another yuppie fad, Nicole couldn’t understand all this light eating, if you were going to have lunch then make it worthy of the title, she ordered a pepperoni baguette and a mocha; one of the yuppies looked over at her with a perceptible look of disapproval and pity. Nicole felt slightly annoyed at them all and at herself for attending something this superficial, she knew fine well nothing would be achieved at this power lunch, just kudos and career advancement, for that was why she was there, she felt slightly ashamed. Just then the designer looked up and caught Nicole’s eye, then the barista’s.

“Actually, make mine a pepperoni too” he said, “I’ve a long day ahead of me, I need something inside me.”

Nicole smiled to herself, maybe he wasn’t as shallow as all this, if so then she would be at an advantage, looking round the yuppies at the table she saw they looked flustered and uncomfortable at having their social protocol overruled in this way.

The meeting began and while Nicole listened with intent she felt she had little to add, and sat back, feeling unnoticed and excluded. She wasn’t especially interested in most of what was being discussed and concentrated instead on her baguette, wolfing it down in a couple of minutes. She had perhaps gone at it a little too fast, for she felt a little wind, still outside the group, she rubbed her stomach and tried not to burp. As she held the wind down she felt it increase in pressure as though growing angry at her refusal to let it free, but she didn’t want to ruin any respect any of the group may have for her. She tilted her head downwards and breathed deeply, trying to calm the force growing within her. She could feel it surging within, trying to force its way out, causing her to shift uncomfortably on her seat as she tensed trying to prevent such an embarrassing outburst.

Nicole felt another surge of wind and looked down at her stomach, rubbing it again, it looked a little distended and felt somewhat more bloated and round than before. Keep it in, Nicole thought to herself, straining to quell the bloating. With a deep gurgling sound, Nicole’s midriff blew out further, pushing out against her white blouse and untucking it from her grey skirt.

“Oooh” Nicole moaned as quietly as possible and pushed in against her bloated tummy, trying to push it back in and tuck her blouse back in. Her stomach felt springy, like a balloon, inflated with air and as she forced it inwards she felt the pressure building up in her, almost forcing a belch. She swallowed and released her belly hoping she could hide its expansion till she could get somewhere alone to release the gas, it reinflated, bigger than before; she felt the gas angry inside her bubbling and toiling away, expanding itself and heaving her petite girl’s stomach outwards, like a balloon at low pressure, challenging it to contain it’s growth. Nicole sat back, trying her best to look comfortable, she tried to catch her colleague’s eyes, reassuring them nothing was wrong, but she knew she looked a little flushed; and they a little suspicious.

The meeting went on, of little interest to Nicole, but she endured it, just a torrent of meaningless jargon. The torrent building up inside of her was more distracting. She winced slightly as her sitting back had given the pressure more room to grow. Unnoticed by the rest of them, her abdomen was still blowing up, bigger and bigger. She placed her hands on it, smoothing over its taut rounded surface, making shushing noises as she tried to steady its unease. It appeared now like she was nine months pregnant, but different as it was her stomach that was inflating, just above her abdomen. She knew she wouldn’t be able to leave her seat now without being noticed and looked around uneasily for an opportunity to escape. The others were still sitting around talking, oblivious to her plight. Her stomach was still rising, gradually exposing her flesh as it untucked her blouse and straining the buttons on her blouse. She sank down in her chair trying to keep her bloated figure hidden beneath the table. Again, another surge of pressure and quite bubbling sound and she felt her whole stomach tighten and expand. It was now taut and spherical, like a huge beach ball inside her. She tapped it gently with her fingertips and both felt and heard it reverberate like a drum. It was still visibly growing as the volume of gas it contained gradually increased and the pressure mounted.

Nicole rubbed her beach ball again, now so wide she could only just reach around it, smoothing her hands over it and feeling the stretched fabric of her blouse over it; creases radiating out from the buttons which were straining to hold tight against the bulging flesh beneath; the blouse stopped short of her belly button, revealing taut shiny flesh, which she rubbed her hands over, moaning quietly as the felt the shallow dimple and prominent bump of her navel. Further down and under, so she couldn’t see it was her skirt, pushed down and creased up by her expanding belly. Nicole watched it expand again, her hands resting either side so she could feel herself blowing up, like a balloon inflating in her hands. Her eyes were like billboards, her mouth distorted into an expression of fear and discomfort. She closed her eyes gently and moaned again, quietly to herself.

“Hurry up, get this over with and leave me alone” she whispered to herself, the thought directed at her colleagues, still discussing things, still oblivious to her; she desperately needed to burp… but she must wait. Nicole grasped her hands around her stomach and squeezed her arms together, trying to push it back in, but it was no use, she was like a high pressure vessel, so tight and pressurised that she was solid, with only a tiny bit of give. Suddenly she was aware that her stomach was not all that was inflating, she could hear a soft hiss as the pressure escaped to other parts of her body, her lap began rising as her thighs inflated and her breasts were also blowing up, increasing in cup size from C to D so that her bra felt tight. She continued to pump up all over in time to the hissing. She felt her ass inflate underneath her, her left buttock swelling up first so that she was tilted to her right as though an air bed she was sitting on was blowing up unevenly; then her right buttock pumped up until she was level again, but still rising. Her beach ball stomach hadn’t stopped inflating either, so she could no longer reach around it and it was jamming her in to the chair, stuck between the armrests so she couldn’t get up. They hadn’t noticed yet, but they would soon at the rate she was now expanding, she really had to burp, couldn’t they just end the meeting so she could be alone and let it all out. Then one of her colleagues spoke.

“But if the market continues to inflate at this rate then at some point it like anything overinflated has to pop!”

Nicole felt her cheeks puff up with the gas inside her.

POP! Nicole hadn’t thought about this, she ran her hands over and under her stomach and underneath her thighs and up to the sides of her ass, all tight, and still stretching as the gas inside her blew her up. It was also difficult to move her arms as they too were inflating, and being pushed out to almost right angles Her body felt just like a balloon just when it was about to burst, at the point where the person blowing it up would probably be wincing away from the overinflated vessel. Nicole winced away from her own expanding body, but she knew that was silly, if she was going to go pop she wouldn’t be able to avoid the explosion by cowering away, it would totally consume her, she’d BE the explosion! Best just to keep a straight face so nobody notice what was going on under the table, from the sound of things they were finishing up, papers being gathered back up and concluding points made, she’d be able to make an excuse to stay and finish her drink and then let it all out and save herself from being blown apart, back to normal. She felt relieved at this, but anxious for them to hurry up and leave; she was still inflating and she really really didn’t want to go bang, which wouldn’t be much longer judging from the way she could feel the straining of her overinflated body right through her, so time was important. Nicole felt her expanding body again, how could they not have noticed, she was like a blimp, the bloating starting to engulf her whole body so her torso was almost spherical, retaining little of her womanly shape save her breasts which were now humongous, like two volleyballs and her puffed up limbs tapering to useless tiny hands and feet! They were too engrossed in the meeting and she had done a good job of sitting away from the crowd, unnoticed.

At that moment the designer stood up and rubbed his stomach.

“Ahh” he announced to the group who were also rising to their feet, “That was lovely, shame nothing actually got resolved with the meeting though,” then to Nicole’s amazement, and discomfort, he burped loudly.

“Excuse me” he said, Nicole’s yuppie colleagues looked as shocked as her “better out than in though.”

Nicole was gazing at him eyes wide, forgetting her own trouble and not noticing the creaking sound coming from her body at it strained, round as a balloon trying to hold the pressure as she reached her limit; or the pop, pop, pop as two of the buttons on her blouse and the bottom of the zipper on her skirt blew off. Everyone around the table was now stood up and they and indeed the café as a whole, had noticed the bloated blimp girl wedged in her seat. The last thing Nicole saw was the group staring at her, eyes wide, mouths agape. She felt a twitch, like a shiver running across her whole body…

KABLAM!