Claire 2: Sam's Birthday

The lights at their table were dim. Steve and Claire were having a quiet dinner together. The waiter filled their wine glasses and faded away. Both were partially done their fish and chatting softly.

"I felt I was right to kick those guys out of the restaurant. I mean they were loud, rude, and were disturbing the other customers and their children." Claire stated.

Steve nodded. "I totally agree with you Claire. So what's the problem?"

"Apparently the owner didn't think it was my place to make that kind of a decision." Steve frowned, Claire continued. "At the end of the day he called me to his office and told me out. That's why I was a little late getting here."

Steve shook his head. "No way you should have gotten in trouble for that. Someone has to show these kids what kind of behaviour is not acceptable. If their parents won't do it, then it's up to other people."

Claire thought on that and finished chewing. "But why should it be. It's a parent's responsibility to make sure a child grows up right, not everyone else's. These people aren't even half our age. Who am I to tell them what to and what not to do. I don't even know them."

"Yes, but as manager it's your responsibility to ensure a safe and harassment free environment for your patrons." Steve sipped his wine. "If not, you may well go out of business."

"I get it; I just wish the owner would. He's too... something."

"Poopy-brained?" Steve suggested. Claire giggled.

"Poopy-brained? I can't believe you just said that Steve. Yes, that fits him perfectly." Steve laughed at that, so did Claire.

"Joking aside now, Claire. I have something I want to ask you and I figure now is as good a time as any. Actually, it's the reason I wanted to meet you here."

"Pray tell, what is it dear?"

"I know you're an independent woman, and I know you have all your own furniture and stuff, but sometimes I just think that my apartment feels somehow empty." Claire knew what was coming next. "I was hoping I could fill that emptiness with you Claire. Would you like to move in with me?"

"Yes Steve, there is nothing I would like more."

"Excellent. Do you want to come over after dinner?"

Claire took a deep breath and strained her blouse. She looked at Steve and smiled. "Why wait?" Steve signalled the waiter and asked for the bill.

Francis thought before he replied to the psychologist. "I don't know why. I just absolutely had to get that deal. What does this have to do with anything?"

The doctor leaned back in is chair. "I think that perhaps each time things don't go your way you have problems sleeping. Tell me about this arena. You said that's when you started having problems sleeping and it just got worse from there. Was there anything about this deal that didn't go your way?"

"It was pretty much my original design." Francis said simply.

"Pretty much?"

"Well yeah. I didn't have to change much to get the deal. It's essentially my original design, but they didn't like my ceiling. They wanted a plain concrete ceiling. Nothing too fancy they said. I know my job. Like I said, it was no big deal.

"But it was soon after that that I started having problems. Do you think that was the start of it?"

"I don't know Francis. You tell me."

Francis thought about it for a bit, and then shook his head. "No, I don't think so. But wait, what happened that night?"

The doctor leaned forwards. "What night Francis? What happened?"

"I'm not sure Doctor. It was a party with some university buddies and I had way too much to drink. I remember heading to a bar after the party and waking up in the tank. What the hell did I do?" The doctor was silent, letting Francis figure it out. "Claire? I remember her. Oh my god." Francis covered his face with his hands.

"What happened, Francis?" The psychologist prodded.

"I think I almost killed her." Francis' voice was muffled by his hands. "I was thrown out by Amy's husband. Steve stopped me." The memories were coming back now. "I told them about the arena deal and showed them my pen. This pen." He said taking it out of his pocket and showing to the doctor. "I remember Claire... inflating."

"Inflating?" The psychologist sounded surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean inflating, like a tire or a balloon. And I -- I forced myself upon her. Forced her to inflate. She was unconscious doctor."

"Did you knock her out?"

"No, no, it was an accident. But what happened after wasn't. Good god, I almost popped her. With this pen I almost popped her."

"Popped?" The doctor raised his eyebrows.

Francis sat up on the couch. "Yes, I nearly stabbed her while she was inflated, but I didn't. I didn't because of Steve. Fuck! What the hell was I thinking?"

"Why did you want to do that Francis?" The doctor asked.

"Because she woke up and I wasn't done. I wasn't finished doing what I was doing." Francis put his head in his hands.

"What were you doing?"

"Masturbating."

"And you didn't finish?"

"No."

"What made you want to do that?"

"I don't know." Francis replied. "The alcohol?"

"It could be, but I think it goes deeper than that Francis. Why did you start to force yourself upon this Claire? Were you maybe making up for something? some feeling of inadequacy?"

Francis looked up at the psychologist. "Do you think that happened because of the arena roof?"

The doctor leaned back in his chair. This Claire person intrigued him. He filed that name away for later. "I don't know, you tell me."

Claire waited for Steve to come home. She had been out of work for a month and Steve had not had any luck selling his articles. After the incident at the restaurant the owner started to pay extra attention to Claire. He started finding fault in everything she did and essentially made working there unbearable. Barely a month after the incident he fired her saying she was causing tension in the workplace and was not contributing to a healthy working environment. She filed for Employment Insurance, but the paperwork had not made it through yet. She also tried looking for a job, but with the economic downturn people were not spending as much as they used to, so companies could not hire as much as they used to.

They'd gotten a letter from the insurance company. It was too much. Had Claire not been there without a job Steve might have been able to cover it, but supporting two essentially unemployed people had wiped out her saving and taken a toll on his. It looked like she would have to sell her car. That thought she did not relish. Claire put the letter down and picked up the next one. It was addressed to her, and hand written. Curious, she opened it and pulled out a letter with small, neat script. It read:

Dear Claire:

What follows is a proposition you might find interesting, but; before you begin, please know that I will not divulge your secret no matter what the outcome of this proposition. I am quite well off and can compensate you handsomely for your services should you wish to render them.

I heard of your secret though a slip of the tongue in conversation. Rest assured that it was not from your current love interest. Of him I know nothing about save that he cares for you quite deeply to have sheltered you in such a way at such a delicate time in your life. My information comes from another source. Suffice to say I trust this source, and am putting my self at risk of considerable ridicule from my peers should he be wrong. I am also putting my job at considerable risk of being terminated should you take this to any kind of authority.

My proposition is thus: you display your talent at a birthday party of a close friend of mine. I wish for you to be a part of the party, not an act in the party. I want for you to enjoy the company of me and my friends. In turn we will enjoy your company, and your talent at your discretion. If anything happens in the vein of what happened before, rest assured that you will be protected and there will be repercussions against the instigator.

If you wish to take up my offer, please mail a note of confirmation to my P.O. Box below. Please also include your phone number that we might seal this deal in a timely fashion.

Sincerely,
An interested party

Claire lowered the letter. Her first reaction was fear. Who was this person? How much did they know? Who told them? She nearly picked up the phone to call the police, but paused. Handsome compensation? She and Steve did have a lack of funds. Claire put the letter aside. Would it really be that bad? Maybe if Steve came along to ensure nothing happened.

Steve didn't know what to think when Claire told him of the invite. He was concerned for sure, but Claire seemed to want to go. If she wasn't sitting on his lap he'd have been pacing. "I worry for you dear, I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I won't go if you can't come." Claire said simply. Steve still looked worried. "I won't go big Steve if that's what you're afraid of."

"No, that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't know. It just seems kind of convenient. That and the fact that he won't give you his name. I don't like his anonymity."

"I won't go without you Steve. You can be my protection."

"Alright, but I still don't like it much."

"Well then, are you afraid I'll find someone who appreciates me that has much more money, and is much better looking than you?"

Steve was shocked. Then his brain switch gears. "You tramp. What if I made a million dollars? Would you still blow up for me?"

"Maybe a part of me would." Claire grinned, sucking air though her teeth. Her flat tummy started to curve.

Steve grinned at her. "What part of you?"

"Any part you want." Her shirt was getting tight around her belly. She stood up. "I think you like when this part grows though." Claire arched her back and her shirt slid up her belly, resting under her breasts. Her pale skin glowed in the soft light.

"Yes, I do like when that part grows. But I like to see all of you." He leaned forward and grabbed hold of a belt loop and pulled her close.

"What are you doing?" Claire playfully asked. "Am I turning you on?"

"Oh no," said Steve as he unbuckled her belt and unbuttoned her pants. "You don't turn me on." He unzipped her pants and pulled them down. "I just don't think we can afford to burst anymore clothes." Claire's belly protruded past her breasts. She coyly tried to cover her panties but couldn't manage it with her belly. Steve pulled her down on his lap again.

"But you're so hard down there Steve." Claire said as she wiggled on him. She lifted his hands to her breasts. "Are you sure I don't turn you on?"

"I don't know, Claire." Steve slipped his hand under her shirt and gently squeezed her breasts though her bra. "It could be that sexy lady I saw walking by the car today."

Claire pushed herself off his lap. "Sexy lady walking by the car, huh? Was she sexier than me?" Claire posed. Her tummy was the size of a globe.

"I dunno, she had bigger breasts than you do."

"Really." Claire sucked in a deep breath. Her breasts swelled to a nice D cup, running over the top of her bra. "Were they this big?" Her shirt was straining. It was obviously not meant to contain such bounty.

"They were bigger, and they looked heavier."

"Well how about you and me head over to the sink and I'll see what I can do." Claire ran her hands over her curves and behind her back. Her breasts relaxed when she unhooked her bra. "Tell me about her butt too. Was it nicer than mine?"

"Jigglier."

"Hmm..." Claire sighed and started to pull Steve towards the kitchen sink. "It looks like I have some work to do then." she said.

The house was fantastic. It sprawled over two lots of land. The circular drive had at least twelve cars parked in it. Claire and Steve approached the front door with trepidation. Claire had the last time she inflated in front of others running though her head. She gripped Steve's arm a little tighter, just to reassure herself.

The doorbell sounded like chimes. When the door opened, Claire and Steve were quickly ushered in. "Hello, Claire," said the man, "and you must be Steve. My name is Dr. Malfour but everybody here calls me Gill, and I would appreciate if you both would too."

Claire recognized the voice from the phone and shook his hand. "I'm glad we can finally meet Gill."

"I'm glad I can meet such a marvelous lady. The pleasure is mine."

Steve shook his hand after Claire. "Gill. Nice to meet you, but I still have some concerns about what is to happen here tonight. You know what happened the last time. I would like to be around when it happens."

"Understandable, Steve. Indeed I would be concerned if you were not. Nobody else here knows what is to happen. This arrangement is private and the time and place are up to Claire. Nobody else knows what she can do, so she can inflate privately if she does not want to expose herself.

"Please, both of you come in and I shall make introductions."

Claire did not immediately follow. "What's wrong, Claire?" asked Gill

"He's not here, is he?" Claire meant Francis.

"No he is not. He and I know each other, but not on this level. He is not here."

"Good." Claire visibly relaxed. "Please, introduce us."

"Excellent. First I shall introduce you to the birthday boy. If you'll just follow me. Ah, Sam, this is Claire and Steve."

The party was taking place mostly in the kitchen and dining room. There was wine in abundance and food was readily available. Steve was discussing the merits of freelance work with a man that Claire did not recognize. She had finished her third glass of wine in two hours and was feeling a little buzzed. She was dancing along with several other people, one of whom was Sam. Sam was the owner of The Grill, a gourmet restaurant down town, and the birthday boy. He was a pretty good dancer too. They danced together for a few songs. Claire was having a good time, but it was tempered by what she was invited here to do.

After a few more songs Claire looked around and saw that Steve was busy. She was ready to do what she came to. She didn't want to disappoint Steve by doing it without him, but she wasn't sure how long her courage would hold. She saw her wine glass and her throat felt dry. Her nerves were jangling; she wanted to get this over with. Claire danced her way over to Sam.

"Hey Sam, could you show me where the bathroom is?"

"Why of course, Claire. Follow me." Still dancing, Sam started towards the back of the house.

"I didn't know you took that picture. I'm impressed." Steve was surprised. The man he was talking to was none other than Roy Matheson. Steve owned two of his photo collections. "That explains why I liked it, I guess."

Roy chuckled. "I do tend to have a distinctive style for my photos. But then your articles and essays are fairly distinctive too. You have a very vivid writing style. I can almost see the photos in my head when I read your descriptions. In fact, I have a proposition for you, Steve."

"I'm listening."

"I'm looking to branch my work out into something more creative; less grounded in reality. I'd love to do an entirely fantastic, multi-media project. I have a friend who is a music producer who wants to expand his horizons as well. Would you like to create a masterpiece with us?" Roy extended his hand for a shake.

Steve was stunned. He took Roy's hand and shook. "I would love to, Roy. Thank you for the invitation. We will all have to meet sometime to discuss." Then he caught Claire out of the corner of his eye leaving the room with Sam.

"If you'll excuse me Roy. I have something that needs to be done."

"Of course Steve. Give me a call later."

"Sure thing Roy."

Steve followed Claire and Sam through the door and down the hall. He saw them enter a room and close the door. He followed and knocked on the door. "Claire, it's Steve." he said. Claire cracked open the door and peeked out. When she saw who it was she let him in.

Claire shut the door behind her. "I don't have to go to the bathroom, Sam." she said. "I just have to give you your birthday present."

"Claire, what? What do you mean?" Sam sputtered. "I don't do that, Claire."

There was a knock on the door and someone saying they were Steve. "Hold that thought Sam." Claire checked, then ushered Steve inside. "Sam, this is my boyfriend. Your present is not what you think. In fact, I'm pretty sure I can guarantee you've never seen the like; not in real life anyway. Sam, would you get me something to drink? Get me a lot to drink."

Sam shook his head. "Look, I don't know what you plan to do, but I won't betray my wife. I don't care that she's away on business. I'm a faithful man."

"And you still will be after this." Claire assured him. "Steve is here to make sure of that. Now go get me something to drink. Do you think Gill would make you do something you wouldn't enjoy? Would he try and ruin your relationship?"

"Gill? Never. He is one of my closest friends. Alright, I'll get you a lot to drink."

After Sam had left Steve turned to Claire. "What the hell? I thought we discussed this. I was supposed to be present. What's with the sneaking off?" he asked crossly.

"I'm sorry Steve, but I couldn't wait any longer. I'm not sure my nerves can take it. Look at me." Claire held up her hand. "I'm shaking." Indeed she was.

Steve hugged her. "I know you're nervous. I am too. I love you. Remember? I just thought you wanted me to be here."

"I do, but I couldn't wait anymore. You don't know what it's like to have an ability like this Steve. Last time was horrible." Claire rested her head on his shoulder.

"They why did you agree to do this?"

She looked up at him. "Because I need to prove to myself that I'm getting over it."

There was a courteous knock, and then the door started to open. Claire and Steve separated. "I found you lots to drink like you wanted." Sam said as he came in. He held up a full bottle of wine. Claire and Steve looked at each other.

"I was thinking water, but this will do." Claire took the bottle from him and closed the door. "Sit." she commanded. The bathroom was a little cramped with three people in it, but it would do. Sam sat on the closed toilet and Steve leaned against the sink. Claire held up the bottle, sizing it up. It was one litre. That would put her up into an E cup. Her shirt could handle it. She handed the bottle to Steve and unbuttoned the first few buttons on her top. Sam shifted, obviously a little uncomfortable with what was happening. Claire bared most of her bust. She kept her areolae covered, but the inside curves of her breasts were unfettered. Steve gave her back the bottle and she raised it to her lips and paused. "Are you ready?"

Sam looked at Steve who smiled. "I don't think anyone is ready their first time." Steve advised him. Sam looked back at Claire and nodded. Claire grinned. She took the mouth of the bottle between her lips and started to drink. At first Sam didn't realize what was happening, and then his jaw fell. He breasts were expanding. Her curves became more pronounced. The bottoms of her breasts slowly slid down until they were hidden by her shirt again. All Sam could see was cleavage. He started to reach for her, but Steve put his hand on Sam's shoulder. The bottle was half done. Claire tilted her head back. The wine swirled down her throat into the reservoir of her breasts. She could feel it sitting there heavily. Her shirt was pulling tight around her burgeoning bust. Claire was glad she picked a stretchy shirt. She had however miscalculated how much her breasts would grow. Sam watched in astoundment as her shirt was pushed farther open. The pink of her areolae was creeping out the gaping neck of her shirt. He could see the bumps her erect nipples were making sliding under the shirt. Just before they came uncovered the bottle was finished.

Claire lowered the empty bottle. "Happy birthday, Sam. Compliments of Gill." Then she looked down. "Eep" she squeaked and covered up. "I'm bigger than expected."

"Oh my god." Sam said, still staring. "What?... How?... Who are you?"

"That, Sam, is my girlfriend." Steve said, smiling at Claire. "Isn't she something?" Claire blushed crimson down to her breasts.

"Thank you, Steve. Now could you help me button up?"

"Sure thing dear." Steve pushed off the sink and pulled the halves of her shirt together.

"How is that possible?" asked a still stunned Sam, sitting on the toilet. He was covering himself.

Claire smiled and started to button her shirt. "It started in High school..."

When they emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, Claire's pants fit a little tighter than they did before and it looked like she had a bit of a tummy. Her breasts still strained her shirt. The alcohol was affecting her. Her speech was starting to slur.

"I'll call you on Monday and let you know when to show up for work," Sam said to Claire. "And once again, thank-you. That was incredible." He turned to Steve. "You sir, are a very lucky man."

"I know." Steve replied and chuckled. "I think you can count yourself lucky too. Your friends are good to you. Everyone here would do anything for you. I wish one of our friends was like that." Claire and Steve had left Francis out of the story the told in the bathroom.

"Yeah, you're right. Enjoy the rest of the party, and have some cake. It's almost time it was brought out."

"Thank-you, Sam, but I think I should leave shoon." Claire slurred. "I don't want to embarash you," she pointed at him, "and him," she pointed at Steve, "and me." She pointed at herself then looked down at her body and giggled.

"I think we should probably leave." Steve suggested. "Before something regrettable happens."

"You might be right, Steve. Thank-you for coming. Are you good to drive?"

"I've only had two glasses of wine. I'm good. I will have to get Roy Matheson's number off of you at some point though."

"I'll send it home with some cake with Claire after her first day of work."

"Excellent. Thanks for having us. Get back to your party now." Steve said and shook Sam's hand.

"Bye, Sam." said Claire, and flung her arms around him. "Happy birthday."

Steve pried her off of him. "We gotta go. Bye."

"Bye bye" Claire said tipsily as Steve pulled her toward the door around the main party area.

"How was work, dear?" Steve asked Claire when she got home. She came into the living room, spun around, fell onto the sofa, and kicked off her shoes, all without dropping the box in her hands.

"It was long, and my feet hurt, but at least I have something to do now. Sam gave me this." she said, holding it out for Steve. "I think it's that piece of birthday cake. He also gave me this for you." Claire pulled a slip of paper from her pocket with a phone number on it.

Steve took the box and the paper from her and put them on the table. "I have some good news. The Herald wants to print my story on the harbour safety issue. With that and the money from Gill there should be enough to tide us over for the next month or two."

"That's great, honey," said Claire as she tilted her head back to rest it on the plush sofa. "I don't get paid for another two weeks."

"Something also came for you." Claire lifter her head. Steve showed her an envelope. It was addressed to her by name, and that was it. "I found this today in our mailbox. I don't know who it's from, but it's addressed to you." He held it out for her to take.

Claire sat up and took the envelope. She opened it and took out a piece of paper with two words on it; "I'm sorry". Confused, Claire turned the envelope over. Out of it fell two objects: two halves of a pen. One part had "Fran" engraved on it. The other part had "cis" engraved on it.

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