Stuffed
By all accounts, Chloe was in no discernable way out of the ordinary. Modest and unassuming, she held a good job, lived by herself in a nice apartment, and faithfully paid all of her bills on time. So, to all appearances, Chloe would have been completely run-of-the-mill, were it not for one small detail.
Chloe had a secret; one she had never shared with anyone. Ever since she was a young girl, she found herself enthralled with the outrageous fantasy of people blowing up like balloons. Her attraction started innocently enough, she surmised, watching cartoons as a kid. After all, characters inflating was a common enough trope of the animated shows she viewed when she got home from school.
She’d sit captivated, having memorized most of the incidents of inflation already, always hopeful another would pop up by surprise. Although the why of it always eluded Chloe, as far as she could tell her lifelong infatuation began with one of the original episodes of Josie and the Pussycats. Perhaps what beguiled her was the fact that the recipient of the inflation happened to be a female, the lead protagonist Josie.
Almost every circumstance involving cartoon inflation had a male victim; at the time, the inclusion of a female inflatee seemed almost taboo to her young mind (as a result Chloe had always desired to see Daphne get accidentally blown up big and helpless in a Scooby Doo cartoon, but to no avail).
It was a skeleton in her closet, one that made her feel as if she was a weirdo whenever she compared herself to those around her. It was also a part of herself she never felt comfortable revealing to anyone else in her life, save anonymously online with like-minded people. For the most part the internet provided her solace as well as an outlet for her unusual, albeit harmless, proclivities.
Nevertheless, sometimes Chloe found the need to amuse herself in other ways, though she didn’t do anything too oddball in her opinion. If a show came on the television with a particularly enjoyable inflation scene, she would do something as simple as stuff a large pillow under her shirt. She would sit on the couch watching TV absently stroking her faux-belly, her heart beating faster with the thrill. She had several pillows strewn innocuously about the apartment for just this purpose; her favorite was a puffy round one that made her tummy appear massive and rotund.
Other times, if she was having trouble sleeping, Chloe would stuff the pillows from her bed in her pajamas, almost to the point of immobility; sporadically she found herself wondering what reaction another person would have if they ever walked in to see her in that state. Sure, being overfilled in that manner turned Chloe on (as she lay in bed gazing up at the artificial hemisphere of her stomach, she felt the need to do something about her underlying excitement, though her gigantic midsection often frustrated the effort) but the tightness and the pressure that accompanied her near-bursting outfit also put her soundly to sleep sure as anything.
Yet as nice as pillows made her feel…especially under snug clothes that created a natural looking curve…for Chloe the process of inflating was just as enticing as the end-state of being inflated. She experimented with beachballs and such, usually in the bedroom with the curtains drawn. Chloe would lie back on her bed listening to the hum of a small pump fixated as she watched her midsection swell. But as much as she enjoyed that experience, the expansion in itself somehow always seemed uneven, unrealistic and not quite what she wanted.
It wasn’t until a particularly warm spring that inspiration struck Chloe. She was dutifully packing up her winter things, specifically the heavy comforter that had been on her bed. It was simply too bulky to just fold up and put away, so Chloe purchased some space bags to maximize the storage in her closet. She shoved the comforter into a bag, zipped it shut, and held the hose of her vacuum to the valve on the front. As the air was suctioned out and the puffy comforter collapsed in on itself, Chloe found herself riveted. She turned off the vacuum, quietly set the hose aside and, ever so slightly, broke the seal on the bag.
The flattened comforter rose back up to its original dimensions, filling the space bag to capacity. She did this three more times, sucking the air out and letting it back in, watching the comforter flatten and expand each time. She then got a smaller bag and one of her favorite pillows. Chloe turned on the vacuum and removed the air, amazed at the outcome. The pillow was almost completely flat. She let the air back in and watched it return to its original size and shape.
She resealed the bag and used the vacuum to make the pillow as flat as she possibly could. Once it was apparent the pillow was compressed as far as it would go, Chloe turned off the vacuum and picked up the space bag, examining it. The packet was only a small fraction of the pillow’s original thickness, although the plastic had become stiff and inflexible. She held the bag over her stomach and bent the edges, molding it closely to her midsection. Intrigued, she placed the rigid plastic under her shirt and held it in place with one hand while she lay down on her bed.
Chloe broke the seal and excitedly watched her belly slowly expand. Sure, it was rudimentary at best, but it gave her all of the satisfaction of the act of inflating and subsequently ending up inflated. On and off she spent the next few months tweaking and refining her new hobby. Different bags, different pillows, and the purchase of one particularly strong and expensive new vacuum cleaner.
On the upside, after spring cleaning her carpets never looked better.
One Friday afternoon Chloe came home from work to find a package on her doorstep. She had ordered the lightest and fluffiest pillow she could find on the internet; if reviews were to be believed, it was like resting your head on a cloud. Brimming with anticipation she rushed inside with the parcel and tore it open. Apparently when the company packed it, they really shoved the sizable pillow in the much smaller box, compressing it. The pillow rose up out of the cardboard like bread dough rising out of a pan. Chloe was awestruck; this was even better than she hoped for.
Enthusiastic, she immediately went to work on this, her ultimate experiment. Chloe already had an oversized bag to use, one with thinner plastic but highly durable. The downside to it, unlike the space bags with which she had started, was that it lacked a proper release valve (the valves always protruded and interfered with the bag’s profile anyway, much to Chloe’s disapproval). To correct for this omission, Chloe created a small hole in the bag and carefully sealed it with a piece of packing tape, effectively creating a pull-tab that she was able to tug to initiate inflation.
Chloe squeezed the immense pillow into the bag. The next step was a little trickier, as she used a dressmaker’s dummy to contour the bag while she gradually suctioned the air out. In the back of her mind Chloe wondered what her neighbors thought of her frequent vacuuming over the past several months, and presumed they just thought of her as a neat freak.
When she was finished Chloe had a smooth, sculpted form that matched her torso almost perfectly. The plastic, while somewhat stiff was far more pliable than her first crude attempts, with the end result thinner than the average magazine. Chloe was beside herself with trepidation. After setting the product of all of her hard work carefully on her bed, she quickly showered and cleaned up following her day of work.
Leaving her clothes on the bathroom floor, she returned to her bedroom naked and freshly toweled off, pleased to see the form as thin as it was when she first set it down, indicating no leakages. Chloe took a one-piece black bodysuit out of her dresser and gingerly stepped into it. After she pulled the stretchy material over the gentle curve of her hips, Chloe retrieved the vacuum-molded form and held it in place over her trunk as she shimmied the suit up the rest of the way over her arms and shoulders.
Looking a herself sideways in the full-length mirror, Chloe was pleased to see the form was barely noticeable under her bodysuit. The plastic felt only mildly inflexible against her torso and didn’t affect her movements in any perceivable manner. After a moment’s more observation, she pulled away from the mirror and retrieved a flowing blue dress that had been hanging in her bedroom closet. She pulled the dress over her head and let it settle down over her body.
The loose, sweeping folds hung freely down to just above her knees, and the pleated nature of the garment completely masked the form held tight against her body. Chloe admired how the black leggings of the bodysuit even complimented the dark blue of her dress nicely. Chloe selected a narrow black leather belt from a hanger in her closet and wrapped it slackly around her waist, supported by her hips while cinching her middle just enough to accentuate her figure. To complete the ensemble, she slipped her feet into a pair of low black heels she had left by the bed; she lifted each foot behind her and reached back to pull the thin strap over her ankle.
As she surveyed herself again in the mirror Chloe felt her cheeks flush and her pulse race. Here she had the ability to inflate full and round as well as the opportunity to end up inflated. All it took was one simple act of pulling a tab. It was then that Chloe realized there was one other aspect that had begun to entice her: the potential…the threat, really…of being inflated. The calm before the storm.
In most media, when someone got blown up big and full, it was invariably in front of someone else, much to the inflatee’s growing embarrassment. She never understood until now the large part that preamble element played in the fantasy for her. Chloe smoothed the front of her dress with her hands, assessing whether anything seemed notable or out of place. She concluded, unless someone knew what she had done, they would never single out anything peculiar about her outfit.
Chloe wondered what it would feel like to go out in public like this. She was nervous but she was also fascinated, so she decided to try something simple…checking her mailbox in the lobby. Chloe grabbed her keys, and out of habit her purse, and headed out into the hall. She locked the door behind her and slowly walked toward the elevator; the distance to the elevator seemed farther than usual but she reached it without encountering anyone and without incident.
Her heart raced as the elevator arrived on her floor with a ding and the doors swept open. Chloe found herself mildly disappointed it was empty. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor.
The descent was agonizingly long and drawn out yet Chloe found herself annoyed that the elevator didn’t stop at any of the floors in between. When the doors opened to an empty lobby, miffed, Chloe audibly harumphed. It was Friday, for heaven’s sake, where was everyone? At the very least someone in her building should’ve ordered pizza delivery.
She walked over to the mailboxes and placed her key into the lock. Chloe opened the tiny door only to be greeted by a junk mail flyer which she tossed into a convenient garbage can. ‘Great’, she thought, ‘just great.’ Fighting dejection, she glanced outside at the late afternoon light.
It was still early, Chloe mused as she remembered the keys and purse in her hands. She could go out somewhere, just for a little while then come straight back home. Thrilled by this tantalizing notion, Chloe went out into the parking lot, got in her car and drove ten minutes to the nearby mall. The lot wasn’t packed (too early for the evening crowd) and she found an open spot relatively close.
Although the mall wasn’t crowded, per se, when Chloe stepped through the glass doors, she faced throngs of people and was assailed by the cacophony of dozens of different conversations. She almost turned around on her heels to leave, but she inhaled deeply and steeled her resolve.
Chloe walked slowly past the small groups gathered around the food court. This was not a good idea, she kept thinking as she tried not to panic. ‘This is a mistake’ echoed over and over in her head. But no one paid her any notice. She was finally able to relax a little when she got past the food court and into the mall proper. Her stride became less timid and she found herself looking around rather than just at her feet. The further she got the more confident she became. Just to the end and back, she thought, and then she’ll go home.
All would’ve gone well to, had not a clumsy employee in Things Remembered dropped a large glass bowl. Almost to the end of the mall when the accident occurred, Chloe visibly jumped at the sound of glass shattering. Already nervous and edgy, she involuntarily turned her head and twisted partway in that direction. That was all it took.
Chloe felt the tug of the tape as it snagged on her body suit. She froze, afraid to move. If she tried to check the tape, she risked pulling it more or worse, tearing it off altogether. She remained completely still, trying to ascertain whether the seal had been broken. Sure enough, her once-slack belt began tightening imperceptibly.
“Shit!” Chloe muttered as she turned back toward the food court. This was bad, this was very bad. She was about to blow up in front of a crowd of strangers. She hastened her step but tried not to move so quickly as to draw any attention to herself and her predicament. To Chloe’s panicked mind, the end of the mall suddenly seemed miles away.
As she approached the midpoint in the mall, Chloe remembered the public restrooms nestled inconspicuously between two stores. If she could just get into the ladies’ room and duck into one of the stalls…
The door was propped wide open, obstructed by a yellow warning sign and a cleaning cart. Expletives poured through Chloe’s mind, as well as under her breath. By now she had developed a slight paunch, barely appreciable to those around her had anyone even been paying attention. But to Chloe it already looked huge.
A few stores further and belt that had hung so limply around her midriff had grown snug and tight. Chloe’s belly continued to swell outward above and below as the black leather band cinched in-between. Alarmed, she knew the flowing blue dress would cover a lot, but not if she looked like she had a strap two sizes too small trussed around her belly.
Hurrying along, Chloe tried to undo the buckle as casually and coolly as possible, her fingers fumbling as she went. Several nerve-wracking moments later she managed to undo the clasp and the belt popped off her waist. Chloe tried not to gape at the resultant potbelly she now sported.
As nonchalantly as possible she coiled the belt as tightly as possible in her trembling hand, speeding up her pace. With each passing second her belly inflated even bigger and soon the billowing fabric of Chloe’s dress only served to accentuate her slowly expanding bulge as she hurried along. By the time Chloe traversed three quarters of the distance back to the entrance, she looked increasingly pregnant.
Her belly hit the nine-month mark as she turned the corner into the food court, and stopped dead in her tracks. Where open space had held scattered small groups and individuals earlier, the evening crowd had begun to filter in, multiplying those numbers exponentially. Letting out a small ‘EEP!’, Chloe realized her inflation was still ongoing and rushed headlong into the deluge.
She never came here on a Friday night! Never! Chloe prayed as she placed her hands on her still expanding midsection that she didn’t accidently run into anyone she knew. The thought of someone recognizing her left her mortified. Although she tried to contain her inexorable inflation by cradling her abdomen in her hands, her passing still garnered more than a few fleeting and confused glances in her direction. Thankfully, by the time anyone registered the otherwise petite girl with the massive belly, she was already gone further through the crowd and out of sight.
By the time Chloe barged through the glass doors into the parking lot, her abdomen surpassed pregnant-looking and had begun to take on a comically inflated appearance. To her benefit the sun had set in the short time she had been in the mall and the evening darkness had settled, obscuring her somewhat from easy scrutiny. She darted through the parked cars, all the while her belly growing fuller and wider, until she managed to reach her car and unlock it with shaking hands.
Chloe tried to slip into the driver’s seat of her car, fighting the unfamiliar bulk of her massively rotund trunk. She felt as if she was trying to stuff a marshmallow into a matchbox. Once in, she had to shift her seat back to accommodate her new girth and struggled to buckle her seatbelt around her monumental waistline. She exhaled slowly as backed out of the parking space and pulled out of the mall. All she had to do now was get home without being stopped by the cops for something stupid.
The drive home was the longest ten minutes of her life, during which her belly continued to grow. It gradually closed the space between her and the steering wheel, finally pressing up against it. Her swollen stomach made it difficult to make the final turn into her apartment parking lot but she managed. As she pulled into her parking space and turned off her car, Chloe looked at the distance she’d still have to cross to get to the building, and imagined the long elevator ride back up to her apartment.
She had no idea how she was going to get there.
The beguining part of your story brings up an interesting point. You don't see many stories were women get blown up like balloons any more.