Addicted

You can always tell when someone's addicted to something. The inability to turn away from it, the willingness to deny necessities for it, even the way people go about acquiring their vice of choice.

It was a rainy wednesday when she walked into the lobby. For a supermodel and actress, her naturally long hair clung to her coat from the sudden and unexpected downpour. There were gasps from all the other people waiting around, of all the buildings to take refuge in, why would the famous and beautiful Gina Starlight run into a squeakeasy, a building of depravity and inflation, to ride out the storm? But to me, it was obvious. The almost ashamed look on her face, undercut with hints of arousal and anticipation. She was here for a reason… the same reason she'd been here time and time again ever since needing to inflate for that one scene in that movie she did three years ago. Gina was an inflation addict.

The stares only increased in volume as she approached the counter and spoke to the receptionist. I could make out a few words like 'welcome back' and 'the usual' from their hushed conversation.

About ten minutes later, the lights in the lobby dimmed, and the curtain on the far wall pulled back to reveal the stage behind it. "Ladies and gentlemen, puffers and pressurized, we have a special treat for all of you tonight! A bit of extra live entertainment for you all! She may not be joining us in the playroom tonight, but she's still worth watching! Put your hands together if you aren't swollen enough to be immobile: Miss Jenna Squeaklight!"

THAT got the attention of all the patrons milling about. Be it folks milling about the bar for a drink or the staff bouncing the more underappreciated inflatees around, everyone's eyes shot to the stage. The stage name made it obvious who was about to step out.

Sure enough, the inflator on stage led her out by the hand. Gina had traded her coat and sunglasses for a two-piece bikini and a rubber mask to obscure her face, making her look like a blow-up doll. The crowd cheered in excitement, most balloons here wore full-body latex suits unless they were in the more exclusive, clothing-optional part of the club reserved for more… intense activities. I could see the blush on her face under the mask though. She so desperately wanted this, and was willing to be on display for her fix.

The inflator didn't waste time. Ever the showman, he pulled Gina over to a helium tank and guided the hose into her mouth. With a grand gesture so everyone watching could see, as well as the cameras filming for the other parts of the club to watch, he twisted the valve of the tank just a bit to get the gas flowing. Her cheeks puffed out and she lurched forwards a bit in surprise, but maintained her composure as she slowly but surely began to expand. It was slow at first, a barely noticeable bulge in her midsection as the helium found its way into her. The inflator placed his hand on her exposed belly and slowly rubbed it, allowing the audience to see that it was slowly swelling up. In the span of a minute it looked as though she'd eaten a large meal. And despite her slim figure, the growth didn't stop.

The bulge of her newly created gut slowly crept up and to the sides, the pressure forcing its way into other parts of her body as it sought new areas to inflict its growth upon. Gina let out a subtle moan, muffled by the hose in her mouth, as the creeping pressure reached her breasts. While her skin was swelling across her body like a wave, with a quiet crank to the valve by the inflator the pressure increased at a steady pace. With an audible hiss and a creaking strain on the elastic bikini, her breasts and rear end joined her torso in swelling up. Cheers, whistles, hoots and hollers erupted from the crowd as Gina slowly ran her hands along her expanding curves, beginning to get into it as the helium in her started to feel good instead of simply feeling different.

Her belly and backside were now passing beachball size and looking more like a yoga ball, and her rear end was starting to more or less join it as the gasses surged through her. At last, Gina's limbs decided to join in on the fun, expanding outwards and beginning to truly restrict her movement. The inflator stepped behind her and pushed her slightly forwards, causing Gina to lose her balance and topple forwards onto her still-swelling middle to roaring applause from the patrons of the squeakeasy.

Another turn of the helium valve and her inflation kicked into high gear. Gina's body rounded out, her limbs quickly beginning to puff up onto cones and begin fusing with her rapidly swelling torso. Her breasts seemed to take on minds of their own, ballooning outwards to comical, almost 2-foot wide spheres eclipsing her vision as she moaned and squirmed from the immense pressure on her tightening skin. Thankfully for her modesty, the hyper-elastic bikini held strong and preserved what little dignity she had as a balloon. After a final, agonizingly long minute of nothing but creaks amd groans emanating from her rounded form, she slowly rose off the ground before an attendant caught her by the foot and tied a string around tlit, floating her offstage while the crowd cheered and hollered their approval, balloons and non-balloons alike.

"Hey. Hey, Blimpy. You listening?" A sudden, startling tug on the string attached to my inflated manhood under my bodysuit shocked me out of my reverie and drew my attention to my beloved: Samantha, the attractive bartender who'd won my heart years ago and kept me almost constantly inflated. "I just got word that 'Jenna Stretchlight' just agreed to be part of the centerpiece in the upstairs club, but they need a boyloon to go with her. You up for being forced to bang a supermodel in midair while everyone watches for the rest of the night? Should make for a nice… seven or so hours of fun until we close."

I smiled. Yes, Gina was an inflation addict. Samantha was too.

But it takes one to know one.