Tough

To say that Carmen was built like a brick shithouse would be great praise to brick shithouses, or a great insult to Carmen.  Her height and musculature outstripped every man she met, with a sculpted, powerfully built figure.  At the same time there was no small degree of femininity to her, with thick thighs, firm breasts larger than her head - let alone anyone else's - and an enormous mane of flowing auburn hair held up in a high ponytail.  She attracted attention in the open-air gym, especially in a form-fitting sports top and shorts, though doing curls with barbells bearing oversized weights taken from an unused set of dumbbells was a sight that usually dissuaded people from trying their luck.  For the rest, there was the anecdote about a show-off who made a big deal about crushing a watermelon between her thighs.  Undaunted, Carmen did the same the next day with a seven-pound frozen turkey.

"...ninety-nine, one hundred." Carmen set the barbell back on the rack, the metal structure making a pained noise from the weight. "I haven't seen that little twerp Hana around," she said. "What gives?"

For all her physical boons, Carmen's personality left something to be desired.

"She blew up," one of the other gym patrons said.

"What, on social media?"

"No, like..." He held his palms to his sides then spread them outward in pantomime.

"Like a balloon."

He nodded. "You should have been able to see her."

She gave a dismissive snort as she picked up her towel. "I was out of town."

"How far?"

"Thirty-minute drive."

He pondered this for a second. "No, you still should've been able to see her."

"Please," she scoffed. "If someone like -that- could get that big, then..." Carmen frowned to herself before striding away. "Come on, we're getting a pump."



*****



Carmen pulled the hose off its hook, uncoiling it as she took a step back before wedging the nozzle into her navel, giving it a firm push to make sure it was in place. "Something like this?"

He gave a light half-shrug. "I... guess so."

"Good.  Start pumping."

He did as he was told, working the handle in a steady rhythm as Carmen stood there, hands on her hips.  There was the odd sensation of something light going -into- her, followed by a growing physical tension.  The only way she could think to describe it was if she was pushing her stomach out without her body performing the act.  Which was all well and good, but something looked off about how much pumping she was doing compared to how little she felt was happening. "Are you sure that pump works?"

"It should," he replied. "Just last week I-"

There was a sharp hiss as the nozzle forced itself free from Carmen's navel.  Her gut barely touched the underside of her breasts, still obscured by them to the point where she needed to reach down and prod the firm dome her midsection had become to confirm that something had even happened.  She leaned to the side, eyeing the nozzle on the ground with vague annoyance before looking back at him. "Get duct tape if you have to."

A few minutes later the hose was securely taped into place, three or four people glancing over every so often in curiosity as he continued to labor.  For all the effort he was putting into it, Carmen couldn't help but feel it was going painfully slowly. "Did Hana spend all -week- doing this?"

"She was a little bit..." He searched for the right word; something true but, more importantly, polite. "...softer."

Carmen let out a humorless laugh. "'Soft' -is- how I would describe her."  Watching his pace slow she added under her breath, "...along with several other people."  She reached out with one hand, taking the pump from him. "Go rest your arms."  Swinging it to the side, she planted one sneaker on the side prong before pistoning the grip up and down with a single hand.  His fatigue over the resistance it was providing was, to her, in no uncertain terms, something of a joke.

While it still felt slow for how much she was pumping, Carmen was certainly getting bigger faster: The taped-over front of her stomach began to emerge from beneath her chest, lifting up her breasts as they too slowly inched ever larger.  Eventually it became less of a dome and more of a sphere that incorporated more and more of her core, her sides rounding out and her chest being pushed apart. "See?" she said with a grin. "This is only the beginning!"

After that it was more: More size, more air, more of her arms and legs brushing against each other when she knew they normally didn't.  More attention, of course, and more resistance from the pump.  Soon "more" meant "more noise," as the device began to tremble and whine with each downward stroke.  Eventually there as a pained creak before a sudden burst of air, causing one or two people nearby to jump, and and all resistance disappeared as the handle simply rose and fell impotently.

Carmen stared down at it with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. "How does a...?  Whatever."  She reached forward, struggling to reach her navel on an exercise ball gut; rather remarkably, it still bore the lines and contours of her abs stretched across its surface.  While prominent, everything else had filled out as well, with Carmen now sporting something like a weightlifter's build.  Though, she was far bulkier and, while still possessing the signs of toned muscle, it was simply stretched and flattened across a far wider figure. "Someone get this tape off of me."

One of the other gym patrons gave the strips a yank.  Carmen didn't so much as flinch. "I think," the patron began, "you were trying to force more air into something than the pump could handle.  Like the pressure was too much for it to work."

A second chimed in. "I think that you're too-"

Carmen's head snapped to the side, chin brushing against the top of her breasts, as she glared at her. "Too -what?-" The other gym-goer shrank away. "You think that Hana has something I don't?"

"No ma'am," she squeaked.

Carmen snorted. "That's what I thought."  Storming off, she added, "if that piece of junk can't do the job, I'll find something that can."



*****



"Something" turned out to be an industrial compressor, taking up most of the back of a pickup truck.  Carmen had chosen to relocate to the gym's basketball court, now having acquired a small audience who watched from a distance as the hose was placed in her navel and sealed securely with what was likely industrial-grade materials.  One slapped red button later and the machine hissed and roared to life, and a second later Carmen let out a triumphant bark of laughter as she grew.

Her entire figure crept outward, the last traces of her sculpted physique disappearing.  As her arms bulked up they went rigid, bending less and less as they turned to two balloons pressed against one another, then single rounded cones, the ends swelling up around her wrists.  Sneakers slid to either side as her legs met the same fate, lifting off the court as the distinction between thighs, hips, and ass gave way to a single lower hemisphere.  All the while her belly crept outward, her abs disappearing as they were pulled taut.

"You see?" she shouted, shoulders and back encroaching on her head. "I can beat that brat any day of the week!  Now turn it up!  I want to be blotting out the sun before it sets!"

"It's as high as it can go!" someone shouted.

"That's pathetic!  You call that thing 'industrial-grade?!'  It can barely-" The rest of her shouting was cut short as her head began to sink in, muffled by her own body.  Any follow-up gestures were covered up as her hands and feet were drawn in as well.  The last contours and curves pulled taut soon after, and but for the two prominent half-globes of her breasts up top, she was left as full orb as high as the basket rims, a tassel of auburn hair still poking out up top.

As the compressor rumbled away, the onlookers watched Carmen expectantly.

One young woman - the patron who spoke to Carmen earlier - studied her, gauging her size.  She -was- still growing, but if the pump was as powerful as they said, then it was far too slow.  She had an inkling of an idea why, but that meant getting closer.

She hurried towards the court, pushing open the gate before slowing to a careful pace as she approached the weather balloon-sized human - although there wasn't much visible to tell anyone that if they didn't know.  Bending over, she looked into one of the indentations; Carmen's foot and sneaker were sunk nearly a yard into her, twitching every so often.  Standing up again, she rapped a knuckle against what she assumed was Carmen's hip, expecting a resonant "thump."  All that came out was a "thud" like the side of a tire, thick material with incredible density held behind it.

Her eyes went wide and, understanding now what made her grow so slowly, she fled as fast as her legs could take her.

Carmen was oblivious to this.  Despite her muffled grunts and curses she had stopped growing but the industrial pump continued to run, forcing untold volumes of air into her, the needle on the pressure gauge slowly but steadily rising.  The pump was indeed industrial-grade, as was the seal connecting the hose to her navel.  But Carmen, for all her strength, was not.  Yet, she did not pop.

She detonated.

The immense pressure was released all at once, the blast deafening and bowling over all who were watching the spectacle.  It shattered every pane of glass in the surrounding blocks, sent debris flying, battered down doors and thin walls, bent and broke trees, and rolled outward from ground zero.  Even if she could not be seen from a half-hour drive away, Carmen was certainly heard.