Blueberry?

It had been an agonising wait for both of them, but now the time was at hand. They'd been eagerly following news of Michael Gibbs' latest creation, the three course meal gum as seen in the movie 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory' (There was also a book, but who gives two shits about books?) and now the confection had finally been released to the braying masses. Well, not so much 'braying' as 'momentarily raising an eyebrow before continuing about whatever it was they were previously doing'. There was, however, one particular group of people who simply could not contain their excitement: The inflation fetishists. Most every single one of them practically orgasmed at the news, thinking that they could now live out their many fantasies about blueberry inflation, which happened to be a major part of the fetish. Jane and Rita happened to be two of these people. They also happened to be lesbian lovers with large breasts, perfect faces and killer asses. This is all you need to know about them.

It had been a pretty normal day for Jane, sitting at home and pleasuring herself with a vibrator while fantasising about being blown up into a giant blueberry while Rita sucked voraciously at her engorged nipples, juice trickling down the both of them as they looked into each other's eyes and simultaneously orgasmed, falling asleep in a warm, passionate embrace. Also she watched tv and had lunch and did other normal person things. It was at about half past four in the afternoon when Rita came bursting through the door, eagerly clutching a pack of the aforementioned gum.

"It's here!" She shouted, quickly breezing into the living room and greeting a bemused Jane.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" Jane replied, not able to believe that the day they'd both been longing for was here at last. "Well, what are you waiting for? Give it here!"
Rita obliged, handing Jane an unwrapped stick of the gum. Jane put it in her mouth and began to chew.

"How is it hun?" Rita asked, giggling.

"Good so far. Tomato soup, just like in the movie!" Jane replied. "wait, it's changing... Roast beef! Oh my god, it's delicious!"

"And that leaves...?" Rita asked teasingly.

"Blueberry pie! Here it comes!" Jane shouted out. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable transformation.

She waited

and waited

and waited

and waited some more

After a bit more waiting, the flavour passed entirely, leaving both women with nothing but a dollar down the drain and a bitter sense of disappointment.

"Maybe that piece was just a dud, try another." Rita said, trying to offer some vain glimmer of hope. But sure enough, fast forward another minute and seventeen seconds, they found themselves at the same outcome once more.

All around the world, fellow inflation enthusiasts were finding themselves in similar predicaments. Naturally, they took to various chatrooms and internet forums to complain. "How dare someone make a product that doesn't malfunction in a weird yet sexually amazing way!" "TmC lied to us!". Also naturally, they decided to do the only thing that people on the internet annoyed at a major company can do: file a class action lawsuit. Because to hell with the capitalist pigs that keep putting the little guy down, we are anonymous, row row fight da powa and all that business.

One medium profile court case and an embarrassingly high amount of money later, Michael Gibbs found himself in an interesting situation. The court, through some sort of horrendous miracle and jurors with varying comprehensions of English, the fetishists had won their case. The whole thing seemed rather odd, Michael wasn't even sure if lawsuits were supposed to have a jury. Regardless, he had lost, and now had to do as he was told. The losses: a very large amount of money and the requirement of him to develop a three course meal gum that actually did malfunction in a weird yet sexually interesting way. But, being the good natured man that he was, Michael was happy to do it. He'd get to continue making people happy and probably make back the money he'd be paying out to these people with the sales of the stuff.

The next few years or so saw a lot of interesting stuff going on in Michael's R&D department, which he luckily all kept down in his diary, partly because he was a man who liked to keep a note of things and partly because it's a lazy way for the author to transfer over into a first person narrative, thereby allowing him to continue fooling himself into thinking that he's writing something funny.


DAY 1:
"Right, today was the first day of attemting to produce what these people wanted and, I'll just be entirely honest, it could have gone better. First issue was finding someone in the office mental enough to test out something like this. Thankfully, we could assure them that there'd be absolutely no chance of whatever we did being permanent. We'd already developed a regression formula for anything 'altering' in our produce, that's how the flavours on the previous type of gum were able to change. Then I got the boys off to a start on developing a pigmentation altering chemical that we could have triggered by the pressure of a human bite, simple enough stuff. They said they'd get back to me when they'd made some progress."


DAY 43:
"no word back from the boys in R&D. This is not looking good."


DAY 68:
"Word back from the boys in R&D. This is looking even worse."


DAY 69:
"First off, let me be the first to point out the potential for any jokes in that this is day 69 of development on what is basically a fetish sex toy. All of you who may read this just to make that joke, you can get out. Anyway, I didn't get to write it down yesterday due to my pen running out and nobody else in the entire godforsaken building having a spare, but the boys are beginning to make some progress. They say they've managed to get enough of the chemical into a standard sized stick of gum to alter the colour of the face and most of the torse and arms to a dark blue colour, which I'm told is just like in the movie, I wouldn't know, I haven't seen it since I was 7. Anyway, the boys say that, for real this time, it won't bee too long until we see a further development. They'd better be right."


DAY 80:
"The boys were right for a change, we have made some progress. They tell me that they've finally managed to get the blue colouring on the entire body. Well, the entire body except for this one stubborn patch on the back of the ankle, but they've decided to stop giving a damn about that part. They also tell me that, just to make sure they've got everything right, they want me to be there for all experiments involving the 'blowing up like a goddamn balloon' aspect of the product. quite frankly, given how much money we've got riding on this, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't be there."


DAY 87:
"I now see quite a substantial reason why I should not be there for all experiments involving the 'blowing up like a goddamn balloon' aspect of the product: The failures of it are weird at best and horrifying eldritch nightmares at worst. They tried out two prototypes of the inflation formula today. Extensive lab work and inhuman amounts of coffee and cigarettes has allowed us to create a formula which, on swallowing the gum, reacts with stomach acid and creates a blueberry juice like substance which triggers a vomiting like reflex, stopping in the chest area, where it leaks out into the rest of the body through some science-y stuff, they told me I wouldn't understand, and the molecules break apart, multiply, and reform rapidly, causing inflation. The quasi-vomiting is the best substitute for the tell-tale pressure that I'm told is a key element for the fetish that we could come up with. Anyway, we've been told this formula is easy to develop, yet difficult to hone. Thus, we're having to use a more trial and error focused process than we'd normally be using. The two prototypes were clear examples of that. The first had all inflation localised to the rear end, giving the test subject the greatest ass in history, but after a while it just began to look silly, even to that one guy in QA who actually likes this stuff. Not bad, but not what we, or they for that matter, are after. The second had all inflation in the head, the result being one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen, and I ran a business during the 2008 recession for god's sake. Her eyes were all swollen and his lips muffled everything she tried to say, though it sounded like she was begging for help. Thankfully, full inflation only lasts 20 minutes, so it wasn't too bad. Still, ew."


DAY 100:
"We're finally beginning to get somewhere, the boys have zeroed in on a variant of the formula that localises swelling to the breasts and the stomach, creating an image which I've been told by our fetishist QA guy, is "fucking hawt." Lab boys tell me that they're pretty close to getting a full body expansion, and then we can break out the victory gin."


DAY 125:
"Well, that's one way to dampen a man's spirits. 

Basically, we'd finally finished the female expansion formula, giving the QA guy a nosebleed large enough to get him sent down to medical for 4 hours in the process. We were all about to celebrate, when one of the guys in PR came up and made us all feel like complete fucking idiots. He informed us that we hadn't come up with a male formula and that, despite what some of us would like to believe, fetish communities are not comprised entirely of beautiful lesbians. I am currently trying not to spill my beer on this paper, which is difficult enough given that I'm just about drunk enough to have trouble with co-ordination. This has taken me about half an hour to write, I'm trying not to fuck it uqxa oh for fuck's sake, and I'm out of tippex. Brilliant.
On the bright side, I'm told it won't take us too much longer to get a male formula in the bag. Then we can forget this ever happened and go back to giving little kids dentures."


DAY 135:
"I don't know who was responsible for this, but whoever it was is fucking fired. When I said 'male expansion' I did not mean 'attack of the 50ft penis'. yes, I guess some people might be into that, but not when the penis in question is purple. Even if you do get off to cockzilla, all it takes is one person to make a joke about Barney the fucking dinosaur and suddenly nobody in the room can enjoy themselves ever again, and given the money I'm having to put into this, I'm not having that."


DAY 150:
"It's finally done. The male formula is finally complete. I do not care that Wrigleys has gotten wind of what we're doing and is coming up with a cheap, strawberry flavoured knockoff in a few weeks, I do not care that I've been told it apparently tastes crap, these people will take their sex toy and they will like it, I do not give a shit anymore. Tomorrow, we ship it and I can go back to doing my fucking job."


In the end, Michael sold enough of the gum to make back the costs of the lawsuit and making the stuff. There were a few incidents of people chewing massive fucking wads of the gum and promptly exploding, but the families didn't get anywhere in lawsuits on the basis that it was basically their own fucking fault that they exploded, except for one case involving a preppy dickhead with a webbed foot, a Nigerian cleaning lady and a damn good lawyer. A few years later, his company worked out how to make the formula addictive and began circulating it on the Russian nightclub circuit, but that's another story and one not nearly as funny at that.

Anyway, that ends the story. Thanks for reading, I'm off to go and pretend I'm working on An Introduction Of Sorts. Cheerio.