Fwoomp

    It started out as a great day. I'd finally lost some of that annoying pudge I'd carried for so long, these contacts finally stopped irritating my eyes, and I finally looked great in a tank top and tight jeans. A pair of sunglasses and a little hair gel, and I'm ready to hit the town.
    I headed down the stairwell of my apartment building, humming a MIKA tune.
    "Hey!" someone shouted. I looked, and it was my neighbor Mark on the floor below. I'd always thought he was a little attractive and wondered if he might be into guys too. Maybe he was finally going to ask me to hang with him. So I went to him cheerily.
    "What's up?" I asked, smiling.
    He smiled mischievously at me. I guess I probably should have suspected something was up.
    "Come in," he smiled, and I did.
    A pairs of arms grabbed me, and that's when I knew I was in trouble. Mark's roommate Rob pinned me to the floor.
    "Damn queer," scoffed Mark. He pulled my sunglasses off.
    I looked around in panic. What were they going to do? Rape me? Murder me?
    "Get the tank," Rob grunted.
    Mark opened a closet near the apartment door and pulled out a small tank of what looked like propane.
    "You like hoses in your mouth, right?" asked Mark.
    "What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded,
    Silently, Mark attached a hose to the tank and jammed the other end into my throat. Then, he hit the valve.
    The gas seemed to shoot out quickly. It filled my lungs, my stomach, and just about every other part of my body. And then it happened. My belly began to swell. At first it looked as if I hadn't lost all that weight, but then it got bigger. My tank top and jeans grew tight and began to tear.
    Mark stopped.
    "He's going to get huge. Take him to the balcony."
    Rob gently pulled me to my feet and led me, staggering, to the little wooden outcropping of their apartment. The hose never left my mouth and I couldn't make a sound. Then Mark resumed pumping the gas.
    My body continued to swell up into a round, ball-like shape. My arms and legs swelled up and stuck out like sausages. My jeans and tank top tore off, and aside from my socks, shoes, and tight briefs, I was naked. Suddenly, I began to lift off of the ground.
    I grew larger and floated higher, and as I got higher, the hose began to slip out of my throat. Finally, I spit it out, but I was now higher than the wooden edging on the balcony.
    I'd barely seen Mark or Rob, who were silent while filling me full of that gas. I didn't care. I felt awful. My mind was reeling. I just wanted to get away. I'd spent so long trying to lose weight and look attractive, and now I was a bloated ball with stubby arms and legs and a lump of a head sticking out.
    I tried to move my arms and found myself swimming through the air. Not looking or caring where I was going or who'd see, I tried to breathe in cool, clean oxygen, but found I could only do it through my nose.
    After a few minutes, my mind felt better. I was floating over the storage unit facility across the street from the apartment complex, which I realized was just out of sight from Mark and Rob's apartment.
    Did they even care what happened to me? Was I a cheap thrill for them? A turn-on? An act of murder?
    No, I told myself, you aren't going to die. I had to think. I was full of gas, and how does someone rid themselves of gas?
    Belching and passing wind. I could try to force it to happen. But I had to be careful. I was about fifty feet in the air, and if I came down too fast, I might survive, but might sustain a bit of damage. Little ones gradually, and not big ones.
    I did my best to squeeze my buttocks and after a minute, a little "poot" was heard. I seemed to be in the same position, so I tried to squeeze my chest. A little bit of gas rushed out of my body and I noticed I'd inched down a bit.
    Baby steps.
    I kept forcing my chest and buttocks to expel gas, and sure enough, my body grew smaller and began to dip closer to the ground. Finally, I was back on my on two feet and seemingly un-inflated.
    I looked myself over. Whatever the strange gas was, it didn't appear to have left me looking too bad.
    Still, there were a couple of jerks who'd just victimized me and ruined my day.
    But I was also a block away from home in my underwear and socks and shoes. I had to go back home and get something on.
    Walking back to my apartment, I ran into Rob in the stairwell. He was carrying the shreds of my clothes and my wallet back to my apartment.
    "I—uh—thought I'd leave these here," he said. "Just in case."
    I grabbed them from him.
    "Why'd you do that?" I asked quietly.
    "I think it's hot." Rob replied.
    "Does Mark?"
    "He just wanted to hurt you," he explained. "He's pretty homophobic."
    "Are you any better?"
    Rob dug his toe into the carpet.
    "Look, I'm gay too," he said at last. "And I've always liked the idea of seeing someone inflate, but I couldn't tell Mark."
    I crossed my arms.
    "So you decided to mix your fetish and Mark's desire to hurt me?"
    He nodded.
    I sighed and looked at him. "That's pretty fucked up."
    "Are you okay?" he asked.
    "None the worse for wear, I guess. What was that stuff?"
    "Inflatium. Some gas I found online that can inflate living things."
    "Doesn't sound like something you'd find on Amazon," I commented, and headed into my apartment. He followed me in.
    "Look," he said. "I just... I just want to say that you're hot and inflating you really turned me on."
    I shrugged. "I appreciate it, but I'm not in the mood."
    "Anything I can do to make it up to you?"
    I looked Rob over. He was not a bad looking-guy. A nice, set face, and light muscle tone. Maybe there was something...
    "I have an idea," I said at last.

    Mark made the finest human balloon we'd ever seen. We blew him up in the parking lot, making sure to tie him down first. After he was about 30 feet high, almost entirely round with his arms and legs and head completely disappeared into his body, we stopped.
    The entire city had turned out to see this amazing sight, news crews filming it. About a hundred people with video phones were getting ready to post to YouTube.
    And then we kicked Mark's swollen ass.
    You know how a balloon sounds when you fill it up, then let it go flying around as it deflates? Imagine that, but higher and louder.
    Mark shot up into the air and I was almost afraid we'd killed him. But then he came shooting back to earth, still swollen, but deflating and otherwise unhurt. Finally, he lay on the ground, naked and very confused.
    He moved away due to the public humiliation, and Rob now lives with me now as my boyfriend. We really wound up connecting once we got past the whole "you turned me into a balloon" thing.
    And now that we're open with each other, every now and then, for a little fun time, we break out the Inflatium. Sure, we've never gone "Mark size," but it is a lot of fun, sharing romantic glances at your swollen boyfriend as you both bounce around on the ceiling.