Blue Balloon

“If we do this, you’re sure you can fix it, right?” Violet bit the corner of her lower lip, partly in anticipation and partly in apprehension. This was, of course, entirely her idea. But that didn’t mean she was willing to charge forward no questions asked.

“Yes, I’ve double checked everything just to make sure,” replied Charlie. “It’s as safe as anything else you’ve done before. I wouldn’t let you do it otherwise.”

It had been years since Violet first toured the Chocolate Factory. In the aftermath, her ordeal of turning into a human blueberry had haunted her for the longest time. But as she grew older, she unintentionally found herself fixated increasingly on the event. Her mind kept going back to it, to the Three-Course gum, and to the inexorable inflating (there was no better word for it) caused by the final course. Eventually her anxiety turned to obsession which turned in turn grew into a secret desire.

Finally, she broke down and contacted Charlie, who now ran the entire works, and sheepishly asked if she could do it again. That had been a few years back; he agreed, and Violet had been to the Factory a few times in the interim, chewing the experimental gum willingly, knowing the outcome yet still frightened by it. Intellectually she was aware of what was going to happen, but emotionally each time it was akin to riding a roller coaster.

‘Riding a roller coaster,’ Violet mused, ‘that’s exactly what it was like, only multiplied ten-fold.’ All of the fear and excitement, but no real danger. Violet found herself hooked on the adrenalin rush. Previously she tried roller coasters, real ones; she tried sky diving; she even tried bungee jumping off of bridges. But they weren’t the same. They were all over…too quickly, leaving her empty and depleted. Inevitably she came back to the original incident, so she pursued the only course of action available to her and reached out to Charlie.

Each time she blew up into a blueberry, she got the adrenalin rush she needed. It carried her for a while, until she could no longer deny the yearning to go again. This time, however, she had something new she wanted to try. She outlined her plan to Charlie who agreed, albeit begrudgingly. And now here she was back in the Factory, late at night and away from prying eyes.

“Okay…go!” yelled Violet, staring intently at the giant white television camera from her spot on the platform. There was a flash of light and then…nothing. In her non-existence, Charlie rushed over from the controls to the modified Wonkavision receiver and fiddled with some dials. Whereas Mike ended up about four inches tall, this specific receiver was larger, so the end result was bigger. From darkness, Violet experienced herself being pulled back into reality, like slowly waking up from a deep slumber. Coherent again, she looked down at herself, completely normal save for the fact she was about twelve inches tall.

“Holy cow!” exclaimed Violet, “That was totally trippy! I feel like a Barbie doll!” She thrust her hip out and posed momentarily for good measure. Satisfied, Violet hopped down onto the tabletop and tried on her new size for good measure. “I can see why Mike wanted to do it again...that was so weird.”

After a minute or two of wandering about and chattering on aimlessly about her scaled-down perspective, Violet settled into her new size and was ready to proceed. She sauntered over to a length of string, although to her it was akin to a piece of rope. She picked up one end and tied it firmly around her ankle, tugging at it once or twice to make sure it was secure. She reached into the pocket of her blue one-piece jumper, pulling out a sizable flask along with a piece of the Three-Course gum she so desperately craved.

Violet adjusted the wide red belt set on her waist, seemingly to straighten it. In reality she was attempting to calm the butterflies fluttering in her stomach (the belt was merely a prop anyway, as a throwback to her first brush with becoming a blueberry). Violet’s consciousness was dizzy with possibilities, nervously anxious to what lay ahead. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Violet declared with false bravado to no one in particular. She placed the experimental gum in her mouth, chewing deliberately. Violet savored the rich taste of tomato soup, her exhilaration germinating as the lingering flavor faded to be replaced by roast beef and baked potato; her hand unconsciously glided lightly over the surface of her abdomen, determined to perceive any changes as they occurred.

The act of blowing up was the act of losing all control, surrendering it. It was more the polar opposite of an act however, because all the recipient had to do was nothing…immobilized first by fear and disbelief, then by their own expanding frame. While Violet’s mind raced, her body remained firmly still except for her rhythmic chewing.

As the main course waned, Violet stirred from her uncharacteristically silent aspect and quickly popped open the flask; the stopper unhinged with the sound of a gunshot, making her jump slightly. Her nerves had been progressively on edge, ever since she hopped up on the Wonkavision platform. The feeling became more intense each passing moment.

Violet took a swig from the flask then paused briefly. She decided for more and tilted the flask back again, chugging this time. The Fizzy Lifting Drink churned and bubbled, imparting a steadily growing bloated sentiment on top of her ample ‘meal’ thus far. Violet swiftly stoppered the flask again and set it down.

“Here it comes!” Violet announced. As the sweet zest of blueberries, flakey crust and rich cream saturated her taste buds, Violet’s heart pounded harder. Momentarily overwhelmed, she stifled a quiet moan. Unwittingly Violet swallowed bite after bite of the blueberry pie and cream. The seemingly endless dessert vied for her attention as the Fizzy Lifting Drink went to work. As she saw the deepening blue hue creep across her exposed skin, Violet realized she timed it out almost perfectly.

“I should’ve had a mirror set up, so I can watch myself,” Violet speculated to no one, her voice suddenly trailing off. “Oh…oh…it’s starting to happen!” Violet’s eyes widened as she looked down at her belly. Her blue one-piece had specially-designed pleats and seams; it would conform to her curves but, as Violet filled out, her outfit would fill out as well to accommodate.

Violet’s midsection incrementally surged in girth, her belt going from slack to snug to tight in nothing flat. Even as Violet’s waistline flourished, she could feel herself become lighter, a byproduct of the Fizzy Lifting Drink.

“I feel funny,” Violet quipped aloud, oblivious and lost in a multitude of clashing perceptions. Overstrained, her belt burst off with a resounding ‘crack!’ and her midriff billowed outward at an alarming rate. Simultaneously her still-swelling form lifted and gently rose upward off of the tabletop, buoyed by the Fizzy Lifting Drink. As she drifted lazily higher, Violet swelled rounder and fuller with each passing second.

Violet could feel herself inflating, blowing up like a blueberry. Her impending sense of helplessness and the burgeoning tightness within her were inexplicably offset by a spreading impression of airy lightness. Gentle breezes caressed her skin and casually bounced her around. She closed her eyes for an instant, trying to take it all in.

As the string reached its limit, the sudden jar causing Violet’s eyes to open. Looking down, all she could see was a massive blue hemisphere curving out below her…she was completely spherical save her head, hands and feet. She wiggled her toes in her shoes, ‘fruitlessly’ she thought in what she considered a witty pun, making her smirk. With no purchase she found moving her feet only bobbed her around to a greater extent.

Violet flapped her hands, also useless, then bent her fingers, as best she could, against her distended shape. At least she could enjoy the tactile sensation under her fingertips, the skin tight and smooth, fabric stretched to its limits. Ever nerve-ending tingled with expectancy until Violet felt as if she was going to explode.

“We did it!” Violet proclaimed, “I’m a balloon! I’m actually a big, round, full, blue balloon! String and all!” And she did look like a toy balloon tied up there, one that anyone could buy at any fair or carnival. Violet inwardly shuddered in prolonged excitement, unable to move, bending to the whim of whatever random eddies and currents happened upon her overly enlarged form.

“So,” Charlie spoke finally, “what now?”

Violet looked mischievously over at her stunned roommates, Amber in a same-styled yellow jumper, Chloe in green. They both shuffled nervously at what they had just witnessed for the first time, but were still deeply intrigued nonetheless. Curiosity, as it were, had no bounds, and Violet had definitely piqued their interest.

“Well,” said Violet daringly, eyeing them both, “whose next?”