Trance Spellbook

Mel had no idea what was going to happen to her when she bought the old spell book at the used book store down her street.

She was just barely an adult, but she still had the fantasies of a child when it came to magic. When she was younger, she had tried to run away and join the fairies in the forest. She wanted to live with them; to be one of them. Heartbreak had ensued when her parents convinced her that fairies weren’t real. When she was sixteen, she joined an online club, True Witches Online, or TWO, and her life hadn’t been the same since. Now, her obsession with magic and her impulsiveness had gotten the best of her when she found the dusty old spell book.

There was no way that it would work. Even Mel knew that. But there was something exciting about trying out a spell in front of the mirror, and hoping that something would happen. So there she was, standing in front of her mirror in her small, cozy bathroom, candles lit in lieu of the overhead lights and spell book extended in front of her. She was wearing the usual: a sweatshirt above a snug blouse and skinny jeans. Her black hair was pulled tightly into a bun, and she displayed a wicked smile on her face. 

Hmm, she thought to herself, flipping through the pages. The world around her seemed to spark with excitement, and her chest tingled at the mere thought of one of the spells working. None of them required any materials, other than the candles and herself, so she had opted to wait until the last minute before picking a spell. Which one of these should I do?

There was a spell that claimed it could make her see in the dark. Another one boasted of turning the candle wax in front of her into water. None of these seemed to interest Mel. So she kept flipping, her excitement gradually building. Her finger landed on a page, and before even reading the words, something intrigued her about this particular spell.

Trance Spell. Be able to face a hidden fear of yours without worry.

Mel shivered, a cold shock snaking its way down her spine. She had countless fears, from facing her boss at work to public speaking. This was it. This was the spell she would try. She shut her eyes and prepared herself.

It won’t work. They never do, she thought. But still. There was something enticing about trying a new spell. Something exciting. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Finally, when she felt ready, Mel glanced down at the page and read the words once over in her head. Most were in latin. Then, she began to recite them clearly, her dark eyes dancing back and forth across the page.

“Metus, Metum, Timor. Procul, emendatus, recreated. Metus, Metum, Timor.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she repeated the words three times, as instructed, eventually moving onto the second line. The tingling in her skin eased, and the air around her began to feel still, rather than electrified. Her entire body seemed to relax, sinking into an ocean of calm. Warmth spread through and around her. She closed her eyes as she finished the spell. Immediately, she was in another world. The sea swirled around her, as far as the eye could see, and she was in a raft. There was an object in the water next to her, small and a bright pink. She picked it up, only to realize that it was a balloon.

Of course. Her deep and hidden fear. It was irrational, but she was always afraid of balloons, of the sound they made when they popped. How they swelled so tightly, their skin translucent on the verge of explosion. The anticipation for when they burst open was enough to induce fear, but there was something else about the balloons themselves that made her uneasy. Their tightness. The way they squeaked under tension. How their rubber skin shuddered when they glided across her hands. 

When Mel saw the balloon, she dwelled upon this phobia of hers for a moment, but then it seemed to vanish into thin air. Instead, she felt curiosity as she picked up the balloon. Slowly, fearlessly, she pressed her lips to the salty rim, and began to blow. She didn’t stop. It groaned and squeaked in between her hands, blossoming out into a full, round shape. And then, she let go, and the air whistled out, flying away and back into the sea.

That’s where Mel’s vision ended. She opened her eyes again, ever so slowly, and was back in her bathroom again. But something was off about her. Her head was fuzzy, a feeling of wooziness circulating through her, and the air around her seemed warm. She was fearless. She was calm. 

The air was almost electric for a moment. Her skin tingled, and the candles shone brighter than ever. A warm pressure began to form in her gut, and she instinctively pressed her hand down on her midsection. The pressure grew slightly with every passing moment. Mel took off her sweatshirt, revealing her taught button-up blouse underneath. 

She gasped as her belly began to swell, her skin still tingling. Her midsection began to fill out into her shirt, stretching it tightly. Steadily, her breasts and butt began to push out. She turned around in the mirror and noted how she’d grown at least two pants sizes, as her jeans were working hard to compress her growing calves. The pressure kept growing. 

Her stomach rumbled and gurgled loudly, as if protesting the new gain of weight. Mel’s belt dug into her waist sharply, and she fumbled to get it undone. Where she would have felt panicked before, now, she just felt ecstatic. She giggled in pleasure as she removed her belt and her belly bulged out, pushing up her blouse. Around her breasts, which were now slightly larger than grapefruits, the buttons ripped apart. Again, her tummy rumbled in complaint, this time louder. 

The pressure on Mel’s thighs was becoming a nuisance due to her ever-so-tight jeans. Quickly, she unzipped them, finding it more and more difficult to lean down. Her stomach bulged, more buttons popping, as her skin grew more and more taught. Like a balloon. It had already pushed out about ten centimetres, and showed no sign of stopping. Mel pulled down her pants to her ankles, and as the final button on her shirt snapped free, she felt unrestricted. Her body gave a loud, final groan of protest, and while gasping in pleasure, Mel put her hands down to her belly. Flesh pressed into her hand as it bulged out, and as she pushed her hands into it, a tight, steady pressure pulsed across her skin. Her thighs blossomed out, pushing away from each other and forcing her legs apart. She was becoming a balloon. She giggled uncontrollably and let the pressure consume her.

The pressure building inside her, and the and feeling of her tight skin being pushed apart– it was better than anything she’d ever felt before. Mel’s body, which was beginning to resemble a sphere, began to sink down nearer the ground as her legs were forced apart. Her breasts had quadrupled, no– quintupled in size since she’d started growing, and they were almost indistinguishable from her fleshy belly at this point. Mel started to laugh. It felt so good, she felt so good– but it quickly turned to something else. 

Her pleasure started to ebb ever so slightly, but not completely. Instead, worry and panic began to settle in. The spell was wearing off. 

Underneath the palms of her hands, Mel’s skin felt tight and rubbery– just like a balloon. The pressure inside of her was so great that she felt as though she could burst any moment, even though she was far from being full. It was almost like the was becoming a balloon. As her body continuously expanded underneath her, now at least five and a half feet in diameter, she tried to shuffle to the door. The walls seemed to close around her. Now, she realized that if she kept expanding, she would push into the counter and the wall, which would cause her to pop. Her gut was already pressing into the counter, and she was only a few centimetres from pushing into the wall. The very idea of popping made her ridden with fear and panic, even with the underlying delight. 

Her legs had been pushed so far apart that it was no longer possible for her to walk with them, but for now, she could still use them to propel her along the floor. The pressurized fluid in her stomach grunted again, and this time, her whole body shuddered. She was growing more and more massive. Even her stretchy underwear couldn’t hold on. They tore off with a snap. 

There was no possible way she could fit through her door. Her moaning, trembling sphere of a body couldn’t handle it. But she had to try. Mel gave out a cry and used her arms to grip the doorway. Giving a cry, she pushed herself as hard as she could at the doorway, pushing her leg against the counter behind her. 

The pressure was unreal. For a glorious moment, she forgot about her worry. She felt like she had before, only better. Her skin was alive, electric with pleasure, and the stress on her gut made her gasp and tremble with sheer surprise. She didn’t even make it halfway through the door before her body squealed under the tension and pushed her backwards, back into the bathroom. Her body gave a satisfying shudder. Mel moaned and rubbed what skin that she could, both fearing and relishing its tightness. Her arms and legs were beginning to be sucked into the ball that was her body. She couldn’t hold on much longer. Her breasts pushed into the sharp counter, and her butt into the wall. Slowly, her body, now seven or eight feet in diameter, stopped growing. It creaked and groaned and gurgled– an unhappy symphony of sounds, but Mel didn’t exactly feel awful. 

Sure, her mind and heart were still racing under the worry of popping like a balloon, but now, the pleasure outmeasured the stress. At first, the fluid that she was filled with had felt like water, but now she wasn’t so sure. It was so pressurized inside her– the pressure had grown so much– that it felt more like air. 

The thought of her filled with air didn’t scare her as much as it had before. She was a balloon, but it was sensory. Pleasurable. In a moment of awe, as her still body grumbled beneath her, Mel realized that the spell had almost worked. The thought of balloons themselves didn’t quite worry her so much now that she was one. She only worried about meeting the same demise that they always did.

Looking down, Mel noticed that in front of her, there was her spell book, still open on the page of the Trance Spell. She skimmed over the words. A squeak was released from her stomach, much like a squeak that could be heard from a balloon, and she grunted. Again, she read the page, frowning at its words. At the bottom, a few words scrawled in ink filled her with dread, but also an exciting anticipation as to what would happen next. The worst, or best, had not yet come. She squeezed her eyes shut. There was only one way out of the situation, and it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“Metus, Metum, Timor…” she began, not willing to waste a moment.

And that was to pop.

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