Cure for the Abnormal Buttfreak

or, “A Lesson in Ass-trology”

As Carmella stepped onto the school bus, Juan pretended to make a call on his cell phone, holding it to his ear as she passed by. Smiling, he quickly took the phone from his ear and used the built-in camera to take a quick shot of Carmella’s young, tightly dressed ass as it swayed against her confining blue jeans, heading away from him toward the back of the bus. The tight, shapely package was the crowning addition to his already substantial butt photo collection, one that Juan had been compiling since the school bell rang that morning.

But unbeknownst to him, two observers caught Juan’s public act of voyeurism. Ashley, a petite blonde with sparkling green eyes, caught the whole escapade. Sitting next to her was Brooke, a tall slender brunette whose face could launch a thousand men’s magazines. They exchanged disgusted glances, looking over at Juan as he drooled at his daily cache of female teenage butts.

Ashley leaned over to Brooke and whispered something in her pretty little ear. A wicked smile broke out over Brooke’s gorgeous face, and the two watched the oblivious Juan until his stop arrived.

He stepped off the bus, keeping his eyes focused on his phone camera, only dimly aware of the bus pulling away and leaving him in the dust. He flipped through the photos, one by one, until he finally decided to put them away for later. Closing the phone, he turned to cross the street.

And there before him were two hotties, Brooke and Ashley. His heart jumped a bit, not having sensed them there, but his eyes were immediately drawn downward to their hips, which were straining against their own jeans, Brooke in classic blue and Ashley in pure white, which caressed every curve of their legs right down to the ankles. Hombre! Juan wished they would turn around right now and add two more shapely butts to his arsenal!

“Like girls’ butts, do you?” Ashley asked him, her long beautiful hair tossing lightly in the breeze.

Juan turned a little red but quickly composed himself. “Uh, yeah. What’s it to you?” “I think it’s a little sick,” said Brooke. “Taking pictures of them while their backs are turned.”

“How else can I get their butts unless their backs are turned?” Juan said with a laugh. “Besides, they wear those impossibly tight jeans, so they must want us guys to look. They have it coming.”

“And you have THIS coming,” said Ashley, grinning again at Brooke. The two smirked at each other, put their fists together and chanted:

“WONDER TWIN POWERS: ACTIVATE!”

Juan looked at them blankly. Cute but definitely nuts, he thought.

But then Brooke pointed at him and said, “Shape of: a BALLOON!”

“Why would you want to be a--” Juan cut himself off as his jacket got noticeably tighter. He heard the distinct sound of rushing air as his jacket bulked up, lifting upward as it seemed to get smaller. But it wasn’t: He was getting bigger.

“Oh, I didn’t mean me,” said Brooke. “I meant you. You do want to be a balloon, don’t you?” She and Ashley giggled.

Juan was too distracted to find the humour in the situation. His upper body was plumping up, constricting his clothes more and more, and soon he realized that the same thing was happening to his legs. Every part--every part--soon thickened, even his cheeks, as he bloated up, his clothes getting increasingly snug. He turned his attention briefly away from his expanding body to see the two pretty young women smiling broadly at him.

“Are you two doing this? How?!”

“Well, we didn’t really need to do the Wonder Twins thing, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ashley said--even though she knew Juan was asking no such thing. “We just do that for fun.”

“You know what else we do for fun? We inflate guys we don’t like. Inflate them till they pop!”

Juan’s eyes widened at the word “pop,” and the cell phone dropped from his hand, which was now plumped up like an inflatable pool toy and could no longer hold anything.

All the while, Juan continued to grow. He heard his jacket and pants begin to shred as he outgrew them, his shirt tore as his belly blew outward, his pants zipper slid open as his widened circumference forced the seams apart. Juan began to feel embarrassed about his exposed underwear, but he remembered Brooke’s admission and realized that he had bigger things--so to speak--to worry about.

Soon his arms were so plump he couldn’t bend them, his legs so wide he couldn’t stand on them, his belly so distended that, when he fell forward, it fell only inches until it hit the ground before the two beauties. And still he bloated up...up...up...

His clothes now tatters, his body now circular, Juan looked pleadingly at Brooke and Ashley. They were just joking about the popping, right? He clung to the hope that they were only trying to teach him a lesson.

“Watch him pop!” Ashley giggled.

So much for that, Juan thought.

But then Brooke said, “No, we’ll just teach him a lesson.”

Juan rolled his eyes upward in a silent prayer of thanks to el Dios.

But still, for several tense moments, Juan continued to grow. He looked panicked as the pressure inside him grew exponentially, feeling a sudden wave of empathy for every balloon he ever popped in his lifetime. He never knew he could feel so utterly helpless, the prospect of blowing to pieces a very real one, indeed. He grew so very taut, so rounded and bloated, he felt bursting was imminent! When was he going to stop?

“Stop!” he pleaded. “I learned my lesson!”

Ashley and Brooke titled their lovely heads at each other, in a slightly skeptical fashion, but, with a playful tinge, slapped their fists together again, and Juan heard the hissing air inside him come to a gradual halt.

He let his breath out slowly, taking inventory of his situation. He could feel his hands and feet--couldn’t move them, because they were plumped up with air--but he could feel them. But the rest of his body, as much as he could tell, was a huge, round ball. A balloon, so full and fragile that he bobbed around whenever the gentle breeze struck him. Even if he didn’t pop, he knew a strong wind could easily blow him away. And a slight graze could very well cause him to burst like a soap bubble!

“So you’ve learned your lesson, have you, you sick butt freak?” Brooke asked. “We’ll see about that.” She knelt down, picking up the phone as Juan’s blimping body shaded her from the fading afternoon sun. She dusted off the phone, dirty but still active, and she paged through the photos Juan had taken.

Ashley brushed her sweet, sexy hair away as she leaned over Brooke’s shoulder. “Whose butt is that?” she asked, pointing to the phone’s display.

“Looks like Sheila Olsen’s,” Brooke said.

Juan’s eyes half-closed in ecstasy. Ah, Sheila Olsen! She came to school that day the same as ever, dressed in skin-tight blue jeans that showed off that delicate, curvaceous butt--

His happy memory was interrupted by a hissing sound. He opened his eyes to see himself lifting further and further off the ground, his body growing tighter and larger. “What! What did I do?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” said Brooke. “Just to make sure you’ve cured yourself of this sickness, we made sure that you’ll inflate every time you think of some girl’s butt. This way, we’ll know you’ve really learned your lesson.”

Stop thinking about girls’ butts? Juan thought. Was that even possible? He was a guy, after all. Does this mean he can’t think about Carmella’s butt on the bus, walking away from him as she found her seat--

Whoosh! Juan’s round body surged again, blowing him wider and higher. “Hmmm!” he groaned with the sudden strain, and began a mantra in his head: Baseball! Baseball! Baseball!

The inflation stopped. But he was nearly a foot wider than he had been just moments before. He bobbed again in the breeze.

Ashley giggled. “Sheesh. What a pervert. Even when he’s about to pop, all he thinks about are butts.”

“Like this one?” Brooke held the camera up to Juan’s bloated face, and he looked upon the image of the red-headed Andrea Joki, her tight black stretch pants stretched to their capacity across her butt. They looked painted on, so completely form-fitting! So smooth and sensual--

WHOOSH! Juan surged in growth again, ballooning up another two feet wide! “No! No! No!” he shouted at his growing body, trying to command it to stop. The pressure was so great, so overwhelming! He closed his eyes and chanted: Old ladies! Nuns! Grandmothers! Paris Hilton!!

He stopped growing, and he sighed again. He eased his eyes open. Even tipped on his axis, he had to look down to see Ashley and Brooke laughing at him.

“What a sicko!” Ashley said.

“Total pervert,” Brooke agreed.

They again paged through the pictures on Juan’s phone. “Whose butt is that?” Brooke asked Ashley.

“I don’t know, but that looks like a cheerleader’s outfit.”

Oh, that was a coup! Sherri Stevens was wearing her cheerleader outfit, and Juan was able to sneak the phone under her skirt and get a quick shot of her undies, her pretty buttcheeks sticking out of them--!

WHOOSH!! “Caramba!!” Juan exclaimed. Brooke and Ashley, a smug look across their faces, watched amusedly as he blew up bigger...bigger...BIGGER. He cried out through plumpened cheeks: “Fat chicks! Butch lesbians! The cast of The Facts of Life!”

His growth slowed to a stop, but the immense pressure inside of him remained. He could NOT think about any more hot butts! He had to stop thinking about them or he’d BURST for sure!

And yet...

What was so wrong at looking at hot chicks’ butts? The girls in those tight jeans obviously wore them to get attention. They wanted him to look, and he wanted to see! What’s so wrong with that? How could he not think about all those young, firm butts in their skin-tight jeans? Their form-fitting skirts, clingy stretch pants, short shorts, skimpy swimsuits and panties? Their young, sculptured derrieres, … those round, firm buttocks,…those sweet, sweet curves down their backsides…!!

And he grew. And he grew. Wider, rounder, larger, bigger. A helpless, human balloon, pumping up bigger than he thought possible, growing to the size of a parade balloon and beyond, stretching outward in every direction, tighter, tighter, tighter!!

“Hmmmph!” he bellowed, snapping back to reality, barely escaping the fantasies that brought him ever closer to the bursting point. He had to stop--NOW! Or he’d pop like an overinflated balloon!

“I won’t!” Juan called down to Ashley and Brooke. “I won’t think about butts any more, I swear! Just please don’t pop me! I’m begging you!”

Ashley and Brooke exchanged another cynical but clearly amused look. “Well,…” Ashley said.

“PLEASE! Please don’t pop me!!”

“Okay,” said Brooke.

Juan’s inflation stopped. He looked pleadingly down at the girls as lay there on his belly, a giant balloon boy. Big as a house. Tight as a drum.

His round body, stretched to transparency, continued to bob in the breeze for several tense moments. He did NOT think about butts. Anything but, in fact.

“You’re totally cured of your butt perversion?” Brooke asked.

“YES!”

“And you’re not going to look at any more girls’ butts?” Ashley asked.

“NO!”

They looked at each other again and smiled. “Another sicko taught a lesson,” said Brooke. She sighed. “Another job well done. Well, Juan, my big, fat balloon--you won’t need this anymore!” She tossed the phone over her shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” said Ashley. “I could use one of those.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Brooke. “I’ll get it.”

“No, no, I’ll get it.”

Both the girls turned around. And then they bent over to pick up the phone.

Their already tight jeans stretched further over their beautiful, smooth bottoms, so perfect, so round…

The image of their two shapely butts was the most beautiful thing Juan ever saw. And it was the last thing he saw before he burst into a million perverted pieces…