Big Big Big Brother

Or, "Heads Will Roll, I'm Back in Control"

Rob shook his head as he walked past the bathroom, where his younger sister Marion stood facing the mirror, preparing for her date. My sister's a slut, he reluctantly concluded. Her tight black leather pants barely covered her rear, showing off the top of her thong underwear. Her plunging V-neck showed off the fact that there was nothing "little" about his little sister anymore. She did some final preening of her long, wavy brown hair before spinning around to glare at her brother.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped.

"Probably a hooker."

Marion spat out an obscenity, turned off the light, and pushed Rob out of her way.

"Don't forget your 11 o'clock curfew," he told her as she bounced down the stairs, her unrestrained breasts bouncing along with her.

"You're not the boss of me," she asserted, grabbing her jacket.

"I am while Mom and Dad are gone," Rob said from the stairs.

"Oooh, big man! Do you get off being in charge?" She didn't wait for an answer, storming angrily out the door.

"Maybe!" he called out after her, the word masked by the slamming of the door.

Rob waited on the stairs for a moment until he heard a car door slam and the sound of the car driving away. He knew the car belonged to Marion's shady boyfriend, Ed. He never liked the guy, but Rob figured the only way Marion was going to learn not to date bad boys was to date a few of them. She'd learn or she wouldn't.

Rob stood in silence on the steps for a moment, soaking in the absolute silence of the empty house. It was so preciously rare that he was alone, and his thoughts turned immediately to what he most liked to do in private, and his body tingled with anticipation.

He hurried back to his room, opening the closet to remove a large air tank, his prime acquisition from the balloon and gift shop for which he worked. It was minimum wage, but he didn't care: The job perfectly dovetailed with balloon and inflation fetish.

He closed the door and began taking off his clothes. Moments later, he stood naked in front of the Jessica Biel poster on his wall.

"You think you're pretty big, don't you?" he asked rhetorically to the picture of the world-famous actress. "Well! I bet I can be bigger than you! In fact, you are nothing compared to how big I can be! Just look at this!" Smiling at that cheesy but intensely erotic ritual boasting, he put the air tank hose into his mouth and cranked up the throttle.

He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt the air pour into his body. He rubbed his belly, knowing that soon it would increase in volume. And sure enough, several seconds later, his hands were rubbing his extended gut, admiring the increasing curve that was forming. He noted with satisfaction that he looked pregnant—which is probably about as close as he'd get in the near future to rubbing a pregnant belly. He used to just stuff balloons in his shirt, but it was much more pleasurable to be able to feel his own body ballooning up, as he'd often dreamed.

His belly continued to grow, and as it grew, it began taking more of his body along with it. His chest and his sides began to slowly bulge out, and he placed his hands on his expanding body, feeling it spread out his fingers as its circumference increased.

He opened his eyes and scowled at the poster, thinking, Look! Can you see me? Can you see how big I'm getting? I'm going to be bigger than you! I'm going to be bigger than everybody!

He wished he could say that out loud, but then he'd have to spit out the air hose. Sure, he'd thought of sticking the air hose elsewhere—perhaps in his navel or some other less inviting aperture—but he worried about what would happen if he got so big that he couldn't reach the hose to pull it out. Inflating by mouth at least left him the opportunity to spit out the hose when he felt he reached his limit.

Not that he ever had to worry about reaching his limit--he'd never dared get too big. The bigger he got, the longer it took him to deflate, and he was always on a tight schedule, never knowing when someone might come home. But now his parents were away, and his sister would be gone until at least 11—and probably later, as he had little doubt she'd traipse in sometime past midnight just to spite him.

Oh, God, he thought. I just might be able to find out how big I can really be! I could probably fill the whole room if I wanted! The thought drove him wild, and he began running his hands over himself, feeling his body spread his arms out, as if they were trying to hold in an inflating beach ball. He leaned forward gently, allowing his belly to make the short trip to the floor, and he let his weight settle on it. He sighed inwardly, relaxing as he allowed the air to fill him up more, his extremities becoming pudgier as the air reached into the other parts of his body. He felt himself becoming rounder and more ball-shaped, just like the balloon he had always wanted to be.

He soon became so round his arms could no longer bend to feel just how big he'd become. But he could feel it, just as he could feel the pressure constantly building inside him. He glared at the poster again. "Hmmmm! Hmmmmm!" he said with his lips around the hose, though his mind was yelling at her: "Look! I'm getting so big! And I'm going to get bigger!"

And he did. Several moments later, he was little more than a giant, round balloon, resting on the floor as his inflating body pushed him higher and higher.

He thought: Oh, God, I'm bigger than I ever dared to get! Yes! I'm just going to keep getting bigger until I fill the whole room! I'm going to see just how big I can be! I'm going to let myself get as big as I can until I'm just about to pop! This is too good to be true! This is too good to be true!!

SLAM!

It was too good to be true.

Rob's eyes shot open wide as he heard the front door slam, and he heard footsteps dashing up the stairs.

He heard Marion rummaging around in her room and then in the bathroom. "Rob!" she yelled angrily. "Did you hide my birth-control pills again?!"

Please tell me I locked my door, he thought.

He didn't lock the door. It flew open and there was his sister, catching him in the act. She gaped at her brother, now a naked balloon in the middle of his bedroom, the only sound coming from the gentle hiss of the air compressor.

Marion froze.

The hose dropped from Rob's numbed lips, plopping to the floor as the air continued hissing its way out.

They stared at each other.

And then Marion laughed so hard they both thought she'd die.

The laughter seemed poised to continue forever, as Marion clutched her sides convulsively, her eyes watering as she gasped for breath. Eventually, her laughter would sputter into giggles, only to look directly again at her balloon-brother, and the peals of laughter would start all over again. This repeated itself several times.

All the while, Rob could do nothing but watch and occasionally wobble in frustration. This is even worse than getting caught masturbating—at least then, he could pull up his pants and slap her across the face. As it was, he was totally immobile, completely powerless. He could only lie there, his extended belly forward, his head angled, watching his sister trying desperately to regain her normal breathing.

Marion wiped away the tears from her eyes as she stepped closer to her helpless brother. "Sooooo!" she drawled. "THIS is what you were up to in here all day! I always thought it was funny how you looked at balloons, or why you kept working in that dead-end balloon shop. I never thought you'd try to BE a balloon!" She giggled again.

"Would you just leave, already?!" Rob barked, feebly attempting to regain control of the situation.

But he was bluffing, and she knew it. She walked around him, putting her hand on his taut skin, pressing down and feeling him wobble. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere! This is too priceless!" She tilted her head inquisitively at him. "What happens if I poke you with a pin?"

Rob felt himself turn red. And not just in the face; in his inflated state, he somehow felt warm all over, either from rage or humiliation.

Marion knelt down, so that she was face-to-face with her accumbant brother. She was so close, her breath touched his face, and he could smell the bubblegum she'd been chewing earlier. Her voice took on a more domineering tone: "I asked you a question: What happens if I poke you with a pin?"

"Just don't," he said, more sheepishly than he had intended.

"Say please."

"Please."

"Say, ‘Please don't pop me.'"

"Please don't pop me."

"Say, ‘Please don't pop me, great sister, whose ass I'm unfit to kiss.'"

"Oh, come on!"

She tapped her fingernail into his rubbery flesh.

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes. "Please don't pop me, great sister, whose ass I'm unfit to kiss!"

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Let's see, now…" Marion walked over to Rob's bed, where he had left his pants. She searched them and plucked out his wallet.

"What are you doing?" Rob asked, as he currently lacked the neck to turn and see what his sister was up to.

Marion walked back over to the side of the giant orb where Rob's face was. "I'll be taking this money, thank you."

"Damn it, Marion, when I deflate—!"

"IF you deflate," she corrected him ominously. "And that's a big ‘if.' But ask yourself this: What's it worth to you to keep this from Mum and Dad?"

"Gggh!" Rob forced himself to choke back words of rage, words he was not in a safe position to utter.

"That's what I thought," Marion told him, patting his slightly puffy head. "Oh, and I'll be taking your iPod, your laptop, and your favourite jersey."

Rob sputtered. "My favourite jersey?! It doesn't even fit you! What the hell do want that for?"

"Because I know YOU want it," she said and giggled.

"Do you get off being in charge?" he asked her.

"Maybe," she sang flippantly. "At least I don't get off blowing myself up into a big, fat balloon!" She sighed happily. "What else can I take?" She began to tear through Rob's room.

Rob struggled again, in vain, to move. All he managed to do was bounce gently on the floor like a wayward beach ball. Marion ignored his straining as she tore through his dressers and closet.

"Naughty, naughty!" she said when she found his porn collection.

Rob stopped struggling. He could not be more humiliated now, anyway. Not unless she found…

"Hey! What's this?"

Oh God, no. She found it.

He could tell even before she walked back into his field of vision that she had found his notebook. The notebook. The one that contained every story, every drawing, every inflation fantasy he ever conceived and committed to paper. It detailed his desire to be a balloon, be it a child's balloon or a blimp. It told Marion how he wanted to be inflated by women. By men. Even by kids. It told her how he wanted to be inflated by a pump, inflated by mouth, inflated by magic. It even told her how he wanted to be the frog in Aesop's "Frog and the Ox."

And his younger sister was paging through it all, every deep secret laid bare in front of her. Occasionally she burst out laughing, as each page seemed more ridiculous than the previous. "Oh my gawd!" she cried out at one point. "You are freakin' sick!"

She read writings about forced inflations. About self-inflations. She saw cartoons about balloon-sized inflations, and about mountain-sized inflations and beyond. And it told her what she really shouldn't know: just how much he wanted to burst.

Marion began quoting passages of Rob's writing at length. "‘Pop me! Pop me! Make me into a big balloon boy and burst me!'" She laughed. "Oh, and this one: ‘I'm such a huge balloon! I can't take it anymore! I want you to overinflate me! Watch me pop! Watch me burst for you!'" She slammed the notebook shut, perhaps worried that laughing any more would cause her sides to split. "Holy crap, you are freakin' twisted!"

Rob was too humiliated to speak. He knew nothing would be the same in his household again. His sister would never take him seriously as an authority figure again; and in any case, she knew ever dark secret he had. She'd have all the power from now on.

"So you DO want to pop, after all?" Marion asked. She leaned her shapely body gently against his spherical frame, causing him to bulge out slightly on the other hemisphere.

"No, not really," he wheezed from the strain she was putting on his body. Actually, he DID, but not by his sister. This whole thing…it was so close to his fantasy, but he didn't want to be helpless in front of his sister. It's just so blessedly wrong.

"But you do want to get bigger?" Marion asked, though it wasn't really a question.

Rob opened his mouth, but he didn't answer quickly enough.

"I knew it!" Marion pushed herself away from Rob, causing him to bounce back a couple feet and roll a half-turn. Marion picked up the air hose from the floor. "So how big do you want to get?"

"Knock it off!" he begged her.

"Let's just make you a little bigger." She brought the hose close to his mouth, and he quickly and firmly shut it. "Come on! Get bigger for your little sister! Show me how big my big brother can be!"

Rob didn't dare open his mouth to answer.

Then she pinched his nose, forcing him to breathe from his mouth. And with that, she stuck the hose in, so far into him that he would've gagged if his neck and throat hadn't already inflated into his globular body.

He braced himself. He loved to inflate before, but he wasn't doing it for pleasure now. He was doing it for his kid sister's amusement. He prepared himself for the increased pressure, knowing he'd soon get bigger like a child's toy balloon.

And inevitably, he did. He tried desperately through the power of will to resist the force inside him, but he'd have better luck holding back a train. His body expanded further, his skin squeaking and straining as he swelled bigger. He felt his swollen feet knock over a vase. He heard the crash of books being knocked off a shelf by his growing body. He felt himself pushing against his sister's overexposed breasts (eww!), gradually forcing her back so that she had to hold the hose farther and farther away from her to reach Rob's mouth.

Marion giggled. "Holy crap, you're huge! You're right, Rob, this IS fun! Get bigger now! Bigger!"

Rob heard various other crashes and thuds as books dropped from shelves, chairs overturned, lamps crashed to the floor. But Rob had no concern for those things, thinking only of how tight he felt, how much bigger he was getting, how much closer to the bursting point. Marion had no way of knowing how big he could get—she could get carried away and pop him by mistake!

And that's what appeared to be happening, as Marion giggled like a giddy schoolgirl playing with a toy balloon, one that was a dime a dozen, one that could be popped like a cheap, replaceable toy.

The squeaks were getting louder from his taut skin, his eyes bulged as he felt the air pushing out against every spare inch of his body. He would have begged Marion to stop, but he couldn't make anything but mumbles with his lips around the hose, and Marion chose to ignore them, anyway. She just watched with anticipation as her brother grew and grew…

I am my own sister's balloon, Rob thought. This could NOT get more humiliating.

At that point, it got more humiliating.

"Babe, what's the holdup?"

It was Ed, Marion's creepy boyfriend, who sauntered into the room. Neither Rob nor Marion had heard him enter the house because of the ruckus created by Rob's inflating body, and Marion jumped back in surprise. "Hey, honey!" Marion said, pulling the hose from Rob's mouth. Rob wasn't sure if he should be grateful for the interruption or further embarrassed by it. Sure, occasionally Rob had even fantasized about being inflating for other men—but for chrissake, it was Ed! Did he have to be humiliated in front of his sister AND her creepy boyfriend?!

"Damn, that's a big balloon," Ed observed in typical understatement.

Marion laughed. "Ed, it's Rob! My big brother!"

Ed walked farther into the room, saw Rob's bulbous head and plump extremities sticking out of the big round ball. "That's your brother?! Shit, I thought it was a balloon!"

"It's my brother AND a balloon!" Marion chirped. "It's my big, big, big, BIG brother! All blown up and ready to pop! Isn't that right, Rob?"

Rob couldn't think of an answer that wasn't too smart-alecky, so he said nothing.

"He's so big," said Marion, "I can barely reach over him to keep the hose in. Can you reach, Ed?"

Aw, jesus.

"Sure," said Ed, who took the hose from Marion and went to replace it back into Rob's mouth.

Rob knew it was futile, but he held his mouth shut again anyway.

"Here," said Marion, after searching the spilled contents of Rob's desk for a few moments. "Tape it to his mouth with this duct tape. Then we can stand back in case he pops!" She was addressing Ed, but she maintained eye contact with Rob as she said it.

They ganged up on the helpless Rob, whose defenses were virtually nil, and they stuck the hose back into his mouth, taping it firmly in place with the tape, and they rapidly stood back.

They watched with anticipation as Rob grew even larger, filling up more and more of the room. He stared back at them in disbelief, although he had to do so at an odd tilt. The air pushed him to greater and greater heights, and his distended body grew closer to the walls, to the ceiling. The creaks and groans from his bloated body began sounding closer together, and they became louder, louder, louder. Rob squirmed, watching his smiling sister and her smirking boyfriend get farther and farther from his horizon of view.

"Is he going to pop?" Ed asked, his voice totally devoid of concern.

"Whoops! Maybe," said Marion, and after a brief pause that seemed like several minutes to Rob, Marion turned off the pump.

This hissing stopped, as did Rob's inflation. The room fell silent for a moment. But only for a moment.

"God!" cried Marion. "Have you ever seen something so big?!"

"Not inside the house, no," Ed admitted.

Rob couldn't see his entire body to know just how big he'd gotten. But he knew he must be nearing the total dimensions of the room.

Marion gently put her hand on Rob's gossamer form. "Don't pop now!" Marion teased. "I just want to feel how tight you are!"

Ed flicked Rob with his finger, hard. Rob winced. "He's tight as a drum," Ed observed.

"Careful!" Marion said, playfully slapping Ed on the shoulder. "You could've popped him! He's so fragile, he could burst like a soap bubble!"

Rob grunted his agreement. He knew he was as close to bursting as he'd ever want to get.

Marion sighed in contentment. "Well, Rob, this has been fun, but Ed and I have got to get going." She walked up to Rob and patted the area closest to his face that she could reach. "You just lie there like a good balloon. We'll be back sometime around—oh, whenever I damn well please. Ta-ta, now!" She blew her brother a taunting kiss.

"Take it easy," Ed said to Rob, smirking.

The two lovers held hands and finally, mercifully, left Rob to delicately rest on the floor like a discarded balloon. Even if the hose wasn't still duct taped to his mouth, he wouldn't have wished them a good night.

He listened closely as two sets of footsteps went down the stairs, the front door closed, and he heard the car doors slam outside. He heard the engine start and idle for several moments. They were probably talking about what a great time they were going to have—or what a great time they already had—while he was stuck here, inflated and immobile. It would be several hours before he'd deflate to the point that he could even move his arms enough to remove the hose from his mouth. It was going to be a long night.

But that was all right. He'd use that time to plot his revenge. Someday, he didn't know how or when, he was going to get even with Marion. Maybe wait until she slept, and then tape the hose into HER mouth? Ed would be a little trickier; he'd put up more of a fight. But maybe he could get some friends together and hold him down—

Footsteps. Running back up the stairs.

Ed re-entered the room. "Forgot to turn off the lights," he said. His hand hesitated over the light switch. Then he reached down and flipped the air compressor back on. Rob's eyes shot open as wide as they could get, and he squirmed as he felt himself increasing in size yet again.

"Later, dude," said Ed, casually waving Rob goodbye before flipping off the light switch and closing the door, leaving Rob in the dark, alone with the sound of the pump and the squeaking of his body. Feeling the air forcing him bigger…bigger…bigger…

Rob felt his body pushing against something solid. It was the opposite wall. Then he felt his body pushing against the ceiling. His body was losing that struggle: The walls and ceiling stayed firmly in place, but Rob's body kept pushing and pushing and pushing, to no avail. The air kept coming in, and Rob's body had no place left to expand.

Maybe, just maybe, Marion would come back in to check on him…?

In the distance, Rob heard Ed's car pull away from the curb and fade into the night.

The pressure built as he pressed harder and harder against the confines of the room. He closed his eyes and focused intently on the wall poster of Jessica Biel that he was now pressed solidly against.

See? I'm going to be bigger than y—

The window panes rattled and the walls shook with the force of Rob's explosion. And then the house was quiet, save for the last, minuscule bit of air escaping from the now empty air pump.

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