Being Terri's Balloon

or, "Blown Past 240"

"295!"

My name's Richard, and I'm a balloon. Not literally, of course, but for all practical purposes. What used to be my body is now just a large sphere, growing and expanding, getting bigger. And bigger. Below me is the most beautiful woman I know, holding the air hose that's blowing me up.

She plans to pop me, and there's not a damn thing I could do about it ... even if I wanted to. Frankly, I'm amazed I haven't exploded already. No one's ever been blown this big that I know of. But I'm going to pop. And I'm going to pop soon.

So I'd better tell this quickly.

........

I met Theresa Powell through mutual friends, and we learned we had a mutual fetish: Like me, Terri loved balloons, loved to watch them inflate and inflate until they burst. Besides sharing this admittedly bizarre fetish, I also found her amazingly attractive--dark skin, round cheeks, dazzling smile and a killer body. Soon she let me in on another secret: She had outgrown balloons and was now into inflating men.

Naturally, I thought she was shitting me. Nevertheless, I agreed to meet her in an empty storage garage she rented outside town. It had a high ceiling and lots of empty space, which seemed like a waste; but she assured me that the space would come in handy. In one quarter of the area was a pump. Terri led me there after having me dress in a white, skin-tight latex outfit, telling me that it would save me from having to get a new wardrobe.

She hooked the pump into my midsection, gave me a broad smile, and asked if I was ready. I said I was, though nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

I began to inflate. Literally. At first, I thought it would be just the suit that expanded, but no; it was me. The suit was only expanding because my body was forcing it to. The air pushed out my body in all directions, expanding me like a toy balloon.

Terri merely smiled back at my astonished expression. My arms, themselves a little puffy, began to stick out at my sides as my growing, spherical body pushed them up and out. And still I swelled, growing larger, bigger, rounder. I was so pumped with air that I soon realized I couldn't move much, except to wobble a bit. My legs were also puffing out and filling up, just before they stretched out to become one with my rounded body.

Terri was still smiling. It suddenly occurred to me that, if she wanted to fill me up until I burst, I'd be in no position to stop her.

That thought grew as my body did. At first, the inflation felt great, almost orgasmic. Now I was grunting a bit from the exertion, my face feeling warm from the strain, as if I'd been working out. I could no longer see my arms of feet, just my pudgy hands sticking out of my ever-expanding abdomen. And Terri still blew me up bigger ... bigger ... bigger ...

And for a moment, I was sure I would burst. Popped like all those balloons I popped before.

Terri stopped looking at me, focusing on a gauge on the pump. A moment later, she shut off the air, stopping my expansion just in time. "There," she said. "I never blow up guys past 240. I blew my first boyfriend up to 250, and he exploded."

If it was possible, my eyes opened wider. "Are--are you serious? He exploded?"

"Yep," she said flippantly. "Popped like an overinflated balloon. At the time, I didn't know how big a guy could get, and I guess I got carried away." Then her eyes sparkled a bit. "Of course, I'd heard a rumor that he was fooling around on me, so it might not have been an accident ..."

I gave her a quizzical look, unsure if she were joking. She just laughed. I never did find out for sure.

My thoughts returned to my present condition as she picked me up and held me in the air. I guess I was as light as a giant helium balloon--how that is, I can't say; all I know is that she could now easily lift me. Gingerly, like a schoolgirl with a new toy, Terri threw me in the air; and as I drifted down, she batted me back up again.

But she didn't stop there. Again and again she bounced me around the room, off the walls, off the floor, almost to the ceiling at one point. She giggled all the while, having fun with her new rubber ball.

And I loved it. I loved how she played with me, and how she'd drag her hand over my round, ballooned body, making a dangerous-sounding squeak. I loved the sound of her laughter as she tied a string to my stubby foot and raced across the garage, while I bobbed in the air behind her like a toy kite. Like a toy balloon.

As time wore on, she got a little breathless. I began to wonder what was in store for me. Would I always be this big? Was she planning to pop me, as she did with her balloons ... or her ex-boyfriend? These questions batted about my brain as Terri set me down, lying me on my back so that she could look directly down at my bloated, perplexed face.

"I'll be honest with you, Richard," she said. "Someday I'm going to pop you. It's never enough just to blow up balloons--I have to see them pop."

If I had a neck to swallow with, I might have done that.

"You won't see it coming," she told me. "You won't know when or how. Maybe I'll stick a pin in you. Maybe I'll squeeze you with my fingernails. Or maybe I'll just blow you up past 240 and ... BOOM!"

I winced a little. If this was part of some inflation fantasy, she was doing a hell of a job, playing it to the hilt.

She smiled that devilish smile. "Someday. But not today. You're too fun as a balloon." Moments later, I felt the air hose in me, reversing the flow until I had safely deflated and returned to my human form.

Discretion forbids me to say what we did next.

...........

It was during our third rendezvous that I brought it up: "Terri," I called down to her as I bobbed in the air above her. "I want you to blow me up to 250."

She caught my ballooned body as I drifted toward her, and she set me down, making sure to set me on my side so that I could see her. "Richard, I can't do that. You know you'll pop."

"No, I don't think so," I said. "I don't feel as much strain as I used to when we started. I think I built up a little more stretch in me. Besides, you told me you were going to pop me anyway, right?"

She gave me an inquisitive look, but I could see the idea intrigued her. With balloons, bigger is always better. Without another word, she hooked me back up to the pump, and--even though I was already at 240--Terri inflated me even bigger.

My round body swelled out even further, getting larger and larger. As I stretched out even more, I began to think: What if I'm wrong? I could really burst! Actually, literally, truly pop like a balloon! But it was too late now. I was getting bigger, bigger than probably anyone had been before. At least, bigger than anyone who hadn't popped. I swelled bigger.

"245!" Terri called out, her voice tinged with--fear? Anticipation?

"Bigger," I said, barely audible over the pump. The air kept coming, and I kept growing ... growing ... growing. I felt that familiar pressure becoming less and less familiar, as it pushed me beyond anything I've ever felt. I inflated larger.

"250!" Terri announced, her hand on the valve.

"Bigger!" I shouted down to her. "Don't stop! I can get bigger!"

Terri gave me a surprised look. But she didn't stop the pump. She watched me grow and grow and grow. My body stretched out farther than I thought possible. And I kept inflating ...

"255!"

"M-more!" It was getting difficult to speak, my lips puffing up now, too. "Keep going! Bigger!"

She didn't argue. She just watched me get bigger. Bigger. Bigger...

"265!" I didn't realize she had let me get so big so fast. I think she was losing control as much as I was, mesmerized by the vastness of my expansion, my beautifully round body, now just a white sphere growing larger and larger.

"275!!"

I was so incredibly full. I knew I was dangerously close to popping. But I couldn't get enough. I wanted to be even bigger. "B-big ...b-bigger--"

But suddenly, the air stopped. Terri had shut off the pump. She had to take several steps back to look at my entire body. "Oh... my... GOD!" she exclaimed. "Richard, you are HUGE! I've never seen anyone blown up so big! I've never seen anything this big!!"

I forced the words from my puffy lips. "I... w-want... bigger..."

"Bigger? Richard, look at yourself! You're almost to the ceiling! One more puff and you'd pop!"

Well, I couldn't exactly look at myself, but I knew she was right. I was enormous. I had to be one puff away from bursting. But I knew then that it wasn't enough. I'd never have enough. I loved inflating, loved feeling the pressure well up inside me. I had to have more. More than I could take. "B... b... bigger..."

She furrowed her brow. "Richard, you're the best balloon I've ever had. How can I give you up?"

"P-please..."

She looked at me a moment before sighing. "No. I won't. It's not easy finding men to be my balloon. Besides, now that we've stretched you out a bit, maybe you can be even bigger next time! I'm just not ready to pop you yet."

We had our usual fun that night, but I was already hatching a plan...

........

The next night, Terri got a call from her co-worker, Debbie. "--and I just thought it fair to tell you that Richard and I have been sleeping together," Debbie was saying. "Richard said he was going to tell you that he was leaving you for me; but since he hasn't told you, I thought I'd let you know."

"I see," Terri said icily.

"I'm sorry, Terri," Debbie began, but Terri had already hung up.

How do I know this? Because I was sitting on the couch next to Debbie, coaching her what to say. Then I paid Debbie the agreed-upon $15,000 and left her place without ever having touched her. I rushed out for my date with Terri.

.............

Terri put on a good act, but she was noticeably less talkative as I put on my white elastic suit and waited for her to start the pump. She said nothing as she turned on the pump and watched me puff out. As I started to fill up and out, becoming too engorged with air to even move, Terri put her hand on my swelling belly to feel my inflation. As I reached the point where I became totally immobile, she leaned closer to me. "You know what, Richard?" she said coldly. "I've reconsidered. I think I can blow you a lot bigger."

All the while, I kept puffing up bigger, rounder, tighter. "How much bigger?"

"A lot," she said ominously. "I'm going to blow you really ... REALLY ... big."

Moments passed as I inflated more, obtaining that perfect ball shape, only to keep filling up larger, blowing out farther.

"In fact," Terri said teasingly, "last night got me wondering: Just how big can you get? Now we're going to find out--you cheating sonovabitch!"

And that was it. I knew what was coming. Several more moments passed as I inflated and inflated and inflated. I knew from my size and from the pressure that I had already passed 240. In fact, I had probably already passed 250...

"260," Terri announced, almost to herself.

The pressure ... the sweet, sweet pressure as my body swelled like a balloon, getting bigger, bigger, bigger! I couldn't speak. I could only listen to the sound of the air filling me, hearing the stretching of my skin, squeaking its resistance.

"275!"

Terri was out of view now, blocked by my own spherical body, growing, stretching, expanding, ...

"285!"

I was bigger than I'd ever been. And still I got bigger. My swollen head was almost to the ceiling. I was bigger than a weather balloon. Bigger than a hot-air balloon. Bigger than a blimp! And still getting bigger... bigger... bigger...

"290!"

So big... getting bigger... larger... fuller and fuller...

"295!!"

Oh, God! I can't take any more! I'm going to POP!

"300!!"

I'm so big, so big, so BIG! Terri, I'm going to burst! I'm going to BURST! I'M REALLY GOING TO B--