Why She Cried

Betty thought she was the luckiest girl alive. She threw parties for a living, and simply adored her job. She had just finished organizing a party for a client who wanted to make a big impression on his guests, do something really wild, but without being naughty. She decided to fill the client's house waist-high with balloons. The guests started laughing and giggling uncontrollably at the front door, and the party only got better from there. Featuring party games like "catch the dog" and the oldie but goody, "hide and seek", the party was a hit and put her on the map. Her phone rang off the hook after party, and Betty, or "Balloons" as her friends were starting to call her, had become the newest toast of the town.

But today, she was on a much-needed vacation, strolling without a care through a golden waist-high meadow of wheat in the country, enjoying a game of hide and seek from her daily responsibilities. Wearing her old-fashioned pleated blouse and skirt, it was as if she were in a scene from the "Sound of Music". Betty started spinning and dancing with uncontrollable joy.

As her eyes sweeped the beautiful blue sky, she stopped in her tracks and stared mouth agape as a giant cloud of pink balloons appeared from beyond a hill and floated up into the sky. The cloud must be a personal welcoming gesture from the countryside, and she felt like a curious schoolgirl as she giddily skipped to the top of the hill to see where the beautiful cloud had come from.

On the other side was a farm with a barn and silo, painted a candy-apple red. It was so picturesque, so romantic, she felt powerfully drawn to it. So she continued to skip down the hill and up to the front door of the barn.

She knocked on the door, patiently awaiting an answer, getting ready to put on her best smile when she asked for a tour. But after three minutes, when no one answered and not a sound was to be heard, she felt pangs of frustration. It was like standing in front of a great big candy bar that no one had given her permission to unwrap and eat. Too sorely tempted, she gave in. Betty opened the door and ventured cautiously inside.

Perhaps not wanting to disappoint, the barn treated her to a rustic but vacant stable, with fresh hay stacked in the corners. Slowly losing her inhibitions and feeling less guilty about the intrusion, she walked through the stable into the main hallway leading to other stables in the barn.

Suddenly, she heard the front door slam shut. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she stumbled over her words, "I wasn't... why Who who is there?" Simultaneously backing away from the stable, her only answer was the sound of a man breathing inside the stable. Suddenly realizing how foolish and careless she was, a terror like drowning descended upon her.

Looking desperately for an escape, she spied a small door at the end of the main hall.

The little door had a small glazed window and a large wheel for a doorknob, as though it were a door on a submarine. Feverishly thinking this door looked secure enough to keep whoever the breather on the other side, she threw it open and lept inside, closing the door behind her. To her horror, there was no such wheel on her side, and she had jumped into a small round room with a strange floor, a familiar but unplacable smell, and no other exits.

As she heard the breathing coming closer, she backed away from the door, first cringing then buckling over in fear against the far wall. It was hard to see through the fuzzy window, but a form drew up to the small door, and she could hear the breathing even more clearly, only now, the breathing sounded like it came from some depraved, tortured soul, expanding and contracting under the pressure of his lungs, expanding... contracting.... again a familiar sound.

Whoever it was didn't enter the door, wouldn't answer to the mystery of his identity. Instead, she saw the bolts slide into place as the form outside was obviously turning the wheel lock on the door, sealing her in. The expanding/contracting sound slowly diminished as the form retreated from the window.

Incredibly relieved but still flying high on adrenaline, she gulped in her surroundings. The round room was at least 20 feet high, ending in a black void, not enough light available to see higher than that. Why, she must be in the silo! Finally taking this in, she fell to her knees on the soft, strange floor, she sobbed uncontrollably, eventually crying herself into sleep.

An hour later, Betty awoke, her face still lying on the peculiar ground. That familiar smell she took in when she entered the silo was extremely pungeant now. She finally realized that she was lying on a ground of what looked like popped once-pink-but-now-mostly-brown balloons. The balloon skins carpetted the floor, and the smell was the familiar smell of fresh latex as given off by a house full of inflated balloons!

Though not superstitious, Betty suddenly got the uncanny sensation she was standing on a grave. Slowly standing up, she started kicking the balloon skins aside, looking to see what lay beneath. It was mostly more balloon skins, but then she saw it and screamed louder and longer than she ever had in her life, expelling a torrent of air she hoped would blast the sight away. Though ravaged, it was clearly a shredded woman's dress.

As if waiting on cue for her scream, Betty heard movement in the black void above her. Craning her neck and squinting her eyes, she screamed, "What are you doing? Why are you keeping me here?" As an answer, a form started to appear out of the void above her.

A small, pink balloon floated down to her feet. Putting it together at last, she couldn't seem to speak fast enough. "Oh!" Another balloon drifted down. "Oh my god! The party! This is some kind.." And another balloon. "..some kind of joke? The balloons? What? Why? This isn't funny? You scared the.. the.. you're scaring me! Please. Who? Who are you?" As if in answer to every question, another pink balloon dreamily drifted out of the void to settle gently on the floor. She thought she heard the breathing again coming from above her somewhere in the void, only now it sounded like a slow, rhythmic pump. She was starting to feel uncomfortably warm.

With still no answers, balloons now almost up to her knees, Betty was getting a feeling of claustrophobia. How high would they get? They still weren't as high as the balloons in the party she threw, but how high would they get? But they had stopped falling, and again there was silence. Drained and lacking the energy to stand, she half-fainted into the gently bustling low fog of balloons.

Again she passed out, this time waking to the sight of round pink balloons filling her vision, covering the length of her body. Sitting up with a start, her head popped above the floor of balloons, and she consciously tried to slow her breathing, shaking a weird dream probably induced by the balloons. She thought she had woken up to a pair of large breasts in her face and that she was covered in breasts, touching her all over. Though not normally aroused by such images, her nipples were slightly erect, and she suspected the uncomfortably warm feeling was something akin to a "warm flash". Her chest felt warm and sort of rubbery.

But the respite of the dream world suddenly burst as she heard the familiar expanding/contracting sound she had heard earlier. Only this time, it was coming from all around her. Batting the balloons aside, she looked frantically for the buried source of the sound, only nothing was there, just the balloons. Stunned, trying to understand this unexplained sound effect, she saw a balloon suddenly pop up into the air from the floor and then drift down again. The balloons! They were slowly inflating, whispering the subtle sounds of inflation, vying with each other for space in the increasingly scarce real estate available in the small room.

As if sitting in a pile of squirming rodents, she jerked her hands up to her pounding heart, trying to keep it from popping out of her chest. Her heart was in no danger of popping out, but the mounds under her hands were another matter. With almost perfect synchronization with the balloons leaping into the air, her breasts were impossibly inflating. They still felt rubbery and warm, but her nipples had become permanently firm, visible even beneath her pleated shirt like tiny little pink balloons sewed on like buttons to her more prominent balloons, now almost the size of grapefruit.

"Oh no. What's happening to me?" As before, more balloons drifted down, as if an answer to her rhetorical question. Realizing that she was quickly becoming just one more balloon among the bunch and that she would soon be fighting for room, she dashed for the door, for the first time thinking clearly. She tried the door, still locked. The balloons were expanding against her forelegs, like a pair of cats rubbing lovingly against her, as if begging for tuna.

"Let me out! I'm growing! I need a... doctor?" She backed away again, terrified at the seeming intelligence of the balloons. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she sensed... a plan? They swelled in time with her breasts, now the size of volleyballs and just as impossibly round.

She studied her breasts. They were testing the constraints of her old-fashioned blouse, like two balloons looking for an escape to rejoin their breathren. As her shirt dramatically inflated, she became oblivious to the room of balloons, now up to her waist and somehow finding their way under her skirt.

"My God. It feels so .." Her blouse held Betty's wide eyes. Her breasts were expanding against each other, vying for space in their own little room, making the same squeaking noises the room was full of now. Her blouse had been pulled up, almost out of her skirt by the swelling balloons. Despite her paralyzing fear, the feel of them rubbing against each other and against the shirt, especially on her nipples, was making her damp and her nipples even harder.

The top of her blouse had started a small tear, but it was growing, giving her a full shot of her gigantic breasts, now aching with arousal.

"This... this isn't fair. This is against my will. Isn't it?" The tear in her blouse was 8 inches long now, creating a wildly exagerated V-neck with two perfectly round, slightly crushed breasts clearly wanting to explode out of her dress. Her blouse was now damp around her nipples, and every little struggle now created a squeaking sound between her wet breasts and the balloons.

It was then that she realized her eyes had been glued to her now basketball-sized breasts far too long. The balloons had changed in color from an opaque matte pink, smaller than a foot wide, to slightly translucent but still mostly opaque pink, each balloon an overwhelming 3 feet wide, and inflating- fast. They were up to her neck, now, trying to pin her into the middle of the room. She realized that soon they would overwhelm her, bury her, and she would have to fight for air. She felt paralyzed by fear... or paralyzed by...?

"OK, you pervert up there. This. This is kind of turning me on. It's exotic. It's cool. You've made your point. So can I.... will you let me go, now?" A fresh supply of balloons came in reply from the void. She expected them, welcomed them. They covered the remaining foot of room, submerging her head in a new layer of foot-wide balloons, just beginning their growth. The pleats in her blouse all gave in rapid succession, pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop! The blouse was now twice as large, and her breasts eagerly swelled to fill up the new room.

Betty suddenly remembered her long, sharp nails. I'll pop them, I'll pop them all, she thought. Though her arms were each pinned to her by giant 4 foot balloons, she managed to wrestle her right pinky free, and she pushed it slowly into one of her nearest captors. The nail sank in impossibly far, but finally, the balloon exploded, sending all the balloons into the air, offering her a brief respite. But the act of popping the balloon made her lightheaded, a smile briefly played on her face. There was a new smell. What was in these balloons?

They were settling back into place, less dense but still expanding. The danger was real. If she didn't watch what was going on, one of these balloons would pin her head and swell against her mouth, and she wouldn't be able to breath. So she popped more, savagely, contributing a fresh layer of balloon skins to the floor. She looked at her breasts again. She wished she could just pop them like the rest, and gave it a tentative try. Just as she started to feel the pain of her sharp nail, she pulled back. She didn't... want? ... to pop them. They felt good. Very good.

The gas from the popped balloons was getting to her. She had a permanent smile on her face, like the balloons were full of nitrous oxide. She was starting to feel not just lightheaded, but light all over- her arms, her torso, her head, her legs. Her legs. Balloons were in her skirt, pressing against her legs, swelling out her skirt like a huge mideival courtroom ballgown.

She couldn't just keep popping balloons. They kept falling down, just filling the room with renewed vigor. By now she felt so light, all over, that she insanely reasoned she could climb up through the layers of balloons. Not thinking it through, the V-neck rip in her blouse going clear down to her waist her breasts now larger than basketballs, filling the blouse that now resembled a racy swimsuit, almost seemed to be helping her ascend, lifting her up, squeaking loudly as she mounted each balloon.

But even though lighter, she wasn't that light, and after climbing up over a few balloons, they would pop, dropping her back down a foot for every two feet she negotiated. And climbing them was getting harder. Every balloon brushing against Betty's skin was sending waves of ecstacy through her. Fighting as much against her own earthly weight as her now raging hormones, Betty finally stopped struggling and let the swelling balloons envelop her, lock her in place.

Betty now had two balloons, one on each ear as if whispering secrets, pinning her head, and similar pairs pinning each appendage. The balloons under her skirt kept her from closing her legs, removing any possibility of leverage. The balloons had had their way and had trapped her. None had covered her mouth. She could still breathe. But she no longer wanted to struggle. Her breasts, each now two feet wide, were still contained to her torso only by a taut blouse that was just barely up to the task because the pleats gave earlier.

Betty was helpless. But she didn't care and was content to remain trapped this way forever. For a while, the balloons stopped swelling. It seemed the ride might be over.

Then suddenly, the balloons all round her turned a slightly brighter shade of pink. And they started moving this way and that, slowing squirming their way up the silo. They became brighter still, and Betty distantly realized that sunlight must be hitting them from somewhere. The roof?

As the balloons pinning her carefully pulled her upward, the balloons got brighter. She was definitely approaching sunlight. Had the top of the silo been removed? The balloons in her dress were repositioning themselves. One of the nozzles now pushed itself insistently against her crotch.

Suddenly, the top layer of balloons broke away and floated upwards. Betty looked around and saw an incredible view from atop the silo. She realized she was next to float up and away, but just then the top layer of balloons swelled ever larger as if to pin her in the top, prevent her from flying away. One of them turned and presented its nozzle to her mouth. She simultaneously let the nozzle on her crotch slip past her labia while accepting a giant pink balloon to her lips.

She screamed into the balloon, "Feed me! Fill me! I want to fly!" She let her inhibitions melt, and the balloons inflated her. She burst upwards out of the top layer of balloons into the sky, the balloons to her lips still firmly attached. But she wasn't light enough. She felt herself slowly drifting to the ground, into the golden field of wheat. She inhaled desperately, trying to drain the balloons attached to her as fast as they were inflating. But to no effect. She dropped to the wheatfield, still frantically trying to inhale, heartbroken that she couldn't join the other balloons in the sky.

Sobbing into the balloon affixed to her mouth, wrapping her arms around her gigantic breasts, clenching the balloon at her crotch with her thighs, she once again cried herself to sleep.

Hidden by the wheat field, no one from the nearby farm road could see the bizarre sleeping beauty.

Epilogue:

Nevertheless, a van with black tinted windows pulled up beside Betty's car. Two men emerged wearing white overalls and opened the back doors of the van. One of them nervously wringed his hands. The other chewed on his lower lip. They didn't know what to expect today, but after steeling themselves, they started walking towards Betty.