Cuckoo, The

"Beth, meet John. John, Beth."

Beth was a janitor who loved her job. Not for any stirring work ethic or romantic spartan notions. She loved her job because a fellow named John worked at the company she cleaned up after, and John was the most beautiful man she had ever beheld.

He worked late and every night, and he was tall, and bright, and handsome. And Beth lusted after John so much that Beth resolved to learn just enough about computers so that she could find out more about him. By this effort, she discovered his name, his date of birth, and his social security number. All heady stuff, but that was about as much as she could learn, and it was frustrating. She wanted to know more about him.

In fact, her temptation was so great, that one day, she could no longer stand it. She gave in completely to her Orwellian curiosity, dropped the still-running vacuum cleaner outside of John's office, wielded her feather duster purposefully, then logged into the machine next door to his office. She swept through his files, and tried to learn what it was that made John tick.

Nary a clue to be had, but in the end, she found one interesting directory, labeled "pics," and in there, he had one picture, a picture of a woman, himself, and a small, red balloon. With any luck, that was just his sister, but just in case, she made a mental note to bring him a bigger balloon.

But just as her fantasies started to fly, John came up behind her and asked, "What are you doing?"

Beth instantly deleted the window with the picture and shot up like a rocket. "I'm so sorry! I was just trying to teach myself how to use computers. I don't understand them!" she blurted out, trying to sound stupid and yet smart and yet not so damned ... caught!

"That's alright, I won't tell anyone this time, but these computers have delicate information in them, and I'm going to have to ask you not to use them again." He used a handsome, fatherly tone and wagged his finger at her like she was a little girl.

Though embarassed, she experienced a brief fantasy of flinging her arms around him and covering him in kisses which made the embarrassment livable. "I promise. Thank you for not telling," she said.

John returned to his desk, as Beth holstered her feather-duster and dragged the vacuum cleaner away from the offices.

A Visit to the Circus

The next day, Beth gave herself a quest to hunt for a big red balloon to give John for his birthday, which was tomorrow. For she had seen his birthday logged neatly next to his age (a dashing and chiseled 34) as she was hacking through his personal statistics.

The Farnaby Circus was in town, so Beth made that her first stop in the quest for an adequate balloon to the task.

No sooner had she parked the car and paid the entrance fee, than opposite her on the other end of a broadway lined with busy booths, tucked humbly to the side of a very popular booth with giant stuffed animals, Beth spied a single clown, standing next to a tall helium tank and a brown leather recliner, hawking balloons by miming to the passerby.

It was a peculiar sight, and Beth's eyes couldn't detach themselves >from the gigantic red balloons tied in bunches of three, floating over the clown's head. They were the largest balloons she had ever seen, and by the time she was able to take her eyes away, her feet had carried her right up to the mime.

The clown had a star drawn around one eye, and a smile painted around her mouth. And she had a cherubic face that looked as if in a constant struggle to suppress giggles.

The mime opened her eyes wide and pointed directly at Beth. She made an "Ooo" shape with her mouth to mock surprise. To communicate her plight, the mime then frowned, stuck out her little tummy, opened her mouth, and pointed at in a "feed me" gesture. She followed this up by pulling an oversized wallet out of her pants, and opening it up, only to show cobwebs and and moths flutter out.

It was an adorable little act. Beth came to buy a balloon anyway, so she pulled out her own wallet, and gave the clown a dollar bill and pointed at the large red balloons. At this, the clown put out her tongue in a happy-puppy-panting act, as if frolicking with glee, as puppies are wont to, at the arrival of its charitable master. This was interrupted by a brief, artificially loud, but obviously odorless fart, which clearly came from the clown's pants. At this, the clown continued the puppy-dog act, and acted confused at the origin of the sound, tilting its head and chasing its tail, sniffing like mad.

This closing act reduced Beth to tears of laughter, and she clapped enthusiastically, waiting for the clown to end the show and give her a balloon.

But the show was not over. The clown, as a final gesture of appreciation, no doubt, puckered up her lips, closed her eyes, and jutted her jaw out, beckoning her applauding patron for a kiss.

Genuinely appreciating the performance, but feeling a little awkward, Beth rolled her eyes in a puh-leez gesture. When it was clear the clown was going to demand a kiss in exchange for this balloon, Beth stole a glance about her to ensure that people were mostly focused on the games of chance, then gave the clown a quick peck on the lips.

My New Friend, Barbara

"Mmmmm, thank you! You are my sweet friend, and I love you," said the mime.

"Hey! You're not supposed to talk!" exclaimed a startled Beth, retreating >from the kiss.

"That doesn't mean we can't be friends!" retorted the clown.

"But I don't even know you!"

"My name is Barbara. Now, you know me!" Barbara tee-hee'd and changed the subject. Barbara looked physically a mature 25 years of age, but appeared to have the personality of a 12-year-old. "I'll bet you have a boyfriend. You're so pretty."

Beth suddenly felt guilty- this poor carney appeared to be retarded- so she decided to play along a little. "Thank you. I'm not that pretty, but there is a boy I like," and as Beth actually blushed at this, Barbara squealed with delight.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!" insisted Barbara.

"Well, he works at this company, and he's ever so handsome, and tall, and smart, and his eyes are just dreamy. But I'm just the janitor, and he hardly notices me- he's constantly caught up in his work." Beth resigned an accidental sigh of contentment and frustration. Beth noticed again how cute Barbara was, and wished she could turn John's eye like this poor retarded girl probably could.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Are you going there tonight to clean again?" Barbara's eyes practically glowed with excitement.

"Yes, I have to vacuum the office tonight."

"I'm going to give you a manicure and style your hair! Would you like that?" offered Barbara pleadingly.

Beth had time to play along, and besides, she was gaining a healthy envy for Barbara's cute hair-do. "Oh, would you? I do so want to look good for him. Do you think he'd even notice, though?" Beth's eyes unintentionally lit up with desperate hope.

"Of course he will- you're beautiful, and when I'm done with your hair, you will be radiant!" beamed Barbara.

"Well, OK!"

"Make yourself comfortable in this laz-y-boy, and let me do allll the work," and at this, Barbara performed a perfect mime of an expert pianist rolling up her sleeves and cracking her knuckles just before the big performance.

Beth reconsidered her first assessment. Maybe Barbara wasn't retarded, just unusually... cute.

It was a very comfortable laz-y-boy chair, all made of luxurious brown leather, an improbable accompaniment to Barbara's balloon stand. Beth soaked into the chair like butter into hot bread as her new friend went to work massaging her scalp, making her feel wonderful and pretty. This got Beth in a more talkative mood. "I was looking for big balloons, because I think he likes ..." Something about the topic of balloons was suddenly, inexplicably disturbing, so Beth changed the topic. "Your hair is so attractive, Barbara. Can you make mine look as cute as yours?"

Her new friend sweetly answered, "Of course I will. You're my new friend, and I love you!"

"Thank you. You're my friend, too, and I... love you back!" It wasn't all that awkward, now that she said it. Barbara was really cute, and her innocent sweetness was rubbing off. Odd how quickly they had gotten this close.

As Barbara went to work on her hair, Beth fell into an almost trance-like state, and she imagined herself a dry sponge, and her new friend an eyedropper, giving her precious drops of beauty to absorb into her thirsty skin.

As Barbara applied the finishing touches to Beth's new hair style, she proudly announced "I'm going to give you the biggest red balloon I've got, so that he knows you love him more than anyone else in the world."

"Thank you," Beth replied. "That is so nice of you!" Beth melted back into her chair as she heard Barbara inflate a giant balloon behind her. The smell of inflating latex filled the air. Barbara came round and tied the bobbing, helium-filled balloon to Beth's wrist and stepped back to appreciate her work.

"Now there's a very pretty, pretty girl!" Barbara held up a full-length mirror for Beth to see herself in. Beth did indeed look cute. With the cute hair, the giant balloon, and virtually swallowed up by this huge recliner, she had to admit that she looked as cute as a little girl. Beth tested a squeal of delight, and the package was complete.

As Beth gathered herself to head to the office, she turned and gave Barbara a big, friendly hug. Barbara reciprocated, but when they parted, she mimed a frown, puckered up, and tapped her index finger on her lips, as if wanting for a kiss.

Beth felt a wash of wholesome love for her innocent, charitable friend as she leaned into Barbara for a goodbye kiss. Only this time, Beth found Barbara's lips formed a perfect seal, and Barbara's countenance moved towards a mischievous smile. Suavely cradling the back of Beth's head, Barbara proceeded to exhale into Beth's mouth, without letting the seal of their kiss be broken. Beth was so taken by surprise, she didn't know what to think. Not knowing what came next in the protocol, locked in a soft kiss with Barbara, Beth returned the exhale. And with this, Barbara nodded ever so slightly to let Beth know that she was playing the game right, whatever it was, then kept a rhythm going, breathing her breath into Beth, then letting Beth push her breath back into Barbara, and back again. With each exchange, the breaths became deeper and slower and longer, until suddenly, Barbara broke the kiss. Beth, despite feeling dizzy from a lack of oxygen, was surprised to find herself feeling disappointed that Barbara broke off the kiss. It was so warm, and lovely, and...

"That is what is in store. That is how John is going to kiss you tonight, at the end of the most romantic evening of your life!" prophesized Barbara. Then, like a mother shooing her child off to school, Barbara spun Beth around and patted her tush in a send-off to work. "There's my little girl."

Beth's mind spun with images of the high romance she would have with John tonight. She barely noticed that the circus had closed hours ago. Beth walked through the drifts of hay and cotton candy and torn ticket stubs, her mind in a faraway place, but her body conspicuously attached to a giant red balloon, pulling insistently at her wrist. Beth couldn't remember the last time she had been this happy and so full of hope.

Neither could Barbara.

About John

John had been told all his life by his parents and even teachers that he was a very bright man, and dashing to boot. He bought the bright part. He had a propensity for math since as long as he could remember. He started early and just kept on getting brighter. He had a real knack for applying math to the world, a skill which opened the door for promising careers in all sorts of technical fields, including chemical, mechanical, structural, and electrical engineering. Coupled with an insatiable need to please his superiors, he would certainly never want for a job, nor for money. He had that side of life licked.

But they say that even the wealthy have problems, and John felt he was far wealthier than he cared to be in this regard. An ex-girlfriend once jibed him with the rhyme, "John could derive an accurate model for virtually any electro-mechanical system, but he wouldn't know what to do with a girl if she were a super-model who came up and kissed him!" Perhaps the jibe hit a little too close to home, because he never forgot it, and once caught himself chanting it while working on a particularly difficult problem.

John had thoroughly botched the only important romantic relationship in his life just two months hence. Laura, the love of his life, had unceremoniously dumped him on the grounds of something like "you have no time for me, you don't respect me, you don't... blah blah blah."

That was John's problem with women. He knew he could experience love, but he couldn't nurture it, couldn't focus on it. He felt his love with Laura was true love, and now he felt the onus was on him to prove it. He was more determined than ever to show his true love to her, to prove that they were destined for each other. John intended to propose marriage to Laura next week. He was very nervous. Not only had the ring cost a bundle, but he wasn't sure if she would like it, because he had never paid attention to her tastes in jewelry.

John the Unready

But as John turned around to get another cup of coffee from the break room, he was not prepared for the sight before him. She was 5'4", had black shiny hair with bangs, had eyes the size of saucers, and was tied at the wrist to the largest balloon he had ever seen in his life. It seemed like the balloon alone filled much of the remainder of his office.

John was caught completely off guard. He couldn't speak, but even in his half-standing position, he was obviously communicating. The girl was standing stiff-backed and pigeon-toed, eyes fixed on John's groin. And his groin was saluting back. After what seemed an eternity of embarrassment, it dawned on him that he wasn't looking at a little girl, but a 20-something-year-old girl of Hispanic descent, who had made herself up to look like a little girl.

"My goodness!" said the little girl, eyes still affixed to his groin. Her mouth fell agape.

With the silence broken, John doubled up and sat back down, completely embarrassed for the instant and unwelcome lust his privates were advertising for this girl. Trying to regain some composure, he leaned his head down to catch her eyes with his, for her eyes were still locked uncomfortably south of his navel. "May I.... help you?"

"Oh yes, yes! Yes, you can!" exclaimed the little girl. Now her eyes were utterly locked to his- it was like she was attempting to physically elope with his soul by way of the bedroom window.

Besides being a little creepy, this situation was beginning to annoy John. It was 2am, the quiet time when the others had gone home, his time to get work done. And there was something else bothering him. He was still stung by the arousal she had caused in him. His true love was for Laura. "And how may I help you?" he repeated, a little more testily.

The little girl forced herself to blink a few times, as if trying to claw her way out of a deep trance. "My my name is Beth." Like she was back in kindergarten, the feat of recalling and reciting her name resulted in a beaming smile. "Can I be your friend?"

The question was as pure and innocent as the first snow of winter, and hung suspended in the air, refracting brilliant sunshine to all corners of his office, filling him with joy and ... "Woah." John tried to shake it off, but an after-image had stuck, had burned this scene in his mind forever. He would not forget this moment the rest of his life. "How did you get in here?"

But before he finished the question, he realized he knew the answer. This was the janitor! He had seen her in the reflection of his office window when she came by at night to empty his rubbish. He could not remember what she looked like in her work clothes, but this was cute off the scale.

There went his crotch again. John tried to fight back, "Down, boy. Deadlines. Bills. Going to marry the girl of my dreams next week. Snap out of it."

And as unexpectedly as she had appeared, Beth suddenly bolted for John's lap, and climbed up into it. She sat down in his lap, and laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his body. The giant balloon had attentively followed her wrist so that it was bobbing gently against John's head, as if impatiently trying to knock the sense out of him.

With her sitting this way in his lap, John was now painfully aware of a long, rock-hard, object in his jeans. He reached into his pocket and removed his cigarette lighter, taking the opportunity to gingerly adjust himself in the process. "Now, look here. I am sorry, but I simply can not be your friend."

Beth's eyes looked into his. They were huge and glistening, and now welling up quite to the brim with tears. "Oh Please!!" She replaced her head back onto his chest and squeezed for dear life, which gave the tethered balloon an opportunity to properly bop him.

"No, I'm sorry, but this just won't do," he said, trying to maneuver his head around the room-filling balloon, "I have work, and I am getting married to the woman I love next week, and it won't do at all to have another young lady in my lap!" He gave her a look of compassion- he couldn't take much more of these tears- but also of stern resolution. He hoped she was buying it.

The look in her eyes took a more serious, almost disturbing, note. She breathed in impossibly deeply, and whined "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease," for longer than John thought the hard-e sound could possibly be carried, all the while, her gaze unwavering, trying to latch onto his soul.

And indeed, he thought he could actually feel his resolve physically melting away with the last of the word. "I can't. I'm sorry. I'm betrothed." he pushed past his lips.

"Don't say 'cant'," said Beth. And with this, still locked with his eyes, she raised an eyebrow while simultaneously re-arranging herself on his lap so that his uncontrollable hard-on was pinched firmly between her buttocks. She intentionally wiggled a little, sending electricity through him.

"Get. Off. Me. I. am.... taken." but his eyes were rolling up into his head with the strain of keeping his composure, and she was squeezing her cheeks tighter with every word. "No. You can't do this."

"Try and stop me," she offered, with a deadly challenge to her voice. The change in tone and drop in octave from little-girl to mature adult was as silky as the smooth red balloon bobbing about teasingly in John's face.

This terrifying new tone brought up a reserve of strength, and John used this strength to raise his hands up to her chest with the intention of abruptly removing her from his lap. But even as he raised his hands, time seemed to slow, and a curious smile curled onto Beth's lip, as her shirt slowly billowed out to intercept his slowly-moving hands.

"No-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh," cried out John in slow motion as the inflating breasts gently met his hands at a perfect cup. He was too slow to avoid them, and once in his grip, Beth latched her hands onto his, not allowing them to leave.

The pungent smell of latex was everywhere, now, and Beth was sucking it in lungfuls, as if enjoying a high from every breath. Her breasts had swollen to the size of volleyballs in seconds. Her shirt was filled to capacity, but she still sensed resistance in John. He was her love, and was not going to leave. She proceeded to complete his immobilization by ballooning her breasts to the impossible size of basketballs, leaving little room to negotiate a solid grip on her torso.

Trapping his hands between her breasts and the wall behind him, she busied her hands to the task of freeing the throbbing animal that yearned to be inside her. Pulling down her panties, she revealed to John a pair of giant, swollen labia, swelling not unlike the balloons on her chest. She chuckled and tossed her mane, fulfilling the last deed of commitment, sliding herself slowly on top of his erect member. As she slid down its impressive length, her privates let out brief pops of air as they created a perfect vacuum around his rod.

"Get off me! This is rape!" John was entering hysterics, but there was little he could do now. He had let this charade go on too long. How had he ever let this monster on his lap?

Beth's gigantic labia and ultra-rounded buttocks now started to inflate in synchronization, the both of them exerting far more pressure on John's rod, creating the near-perfect vacuum necessary to ensure that he would not be able to extricate himself.

Her conquest nearly complete, she undid her already stretched top, revealing to him the miracle of her breasts. They were a flesh tone, of course, but as certainly made of the same latex as the balloon. In fact, it seemed her perfectly firm legs and arms were made from the very stuff of balloons. The smell of latex was everywhere and overwhelming, and what he once thought was a girl with a balloon, it now was clear was a balloon with another balloon along for the ride.

And as she physically inflated from the body of a little girl to a voluptuous, overwhelming temptress, John realized that his head would soon be swallowed by her still-swelling breasts. They were mesmerizing. Giant, puffy aureoles atop impossibly round orbs, inflating around his head, threatening to make each breath his last, while acquiring a faint translucency which served only to confuse already devastated senses.

But just as he thought he might perish between those mighty breasts, she pushed them aside and looked straight at him, but her voice had softened. "John, honey?"

"Yes?" came John's weak reply.

"John, if I asked you for something, something I really needed, you'd give it to me, right?" She blinked innocently even as her face was being slowly encroached by her inflating breasts again.

John had a brief moment of lucidity. "Certainly not!" thought John, but all that came out of his mouth was, "Of course I would, honey."

She beamed innocently again. "You're so sweet!" Even the giant red balloon seemed like no more than a large ruby, now decoratively trapped between her unthinkably large breasts.

John could only see the center of her face now, and her wrists and hands as they kept open the small hole in her cleavage that was allowing them to talk.

"So you wouldn't mind, I mean terribly, if I took your soul? If I destroyed you completely? That would be OK, then, wouldn't it?"

"But. That's. Mine," struggled John, dimly becoming aware that there might be more than fidelity at stake here. He desperately tried to struggle free of the breasts and buttocks that seemed to be everywhere, but to little avail. He thrashed a little longer, then went limp in resignation.

Then her smile turned cruel, and she simply said "Mine!" And with a monumental effort, she pushed aside her confining breasts and leaned her full, swelling lips in for a kiss. And through her mouth she inflated John with a sweet, compelling gas that removed the last traces of John's sense of self. He hadn't even noticed when her pelvis had started pumping furiously, but now he felt as if she were fervently trying to suck him dry. Her unbroken kiss was still inflating him with a paralyzing gas. And her breasts were crushing the life out of him as they grew ever larger. Her breasts had filled the room, and instead of getting larger and rounder, they were now filling in the last remnants of space, squeezing the last traces of air from the room.

John's mind was going mushy, and already he was thinking of himself in the third person, unimportant. He thought to himself, "Perhaps those breasts will be my end in a panicky suffocation, or perhaps that pressure on my penis is her labia pinching off my member so that I will bleed to death into her. I guess it doesn't matter. I belong to her utterly now."

"Yours," was the last thing John said, as he realized with those words that he had forfeit his last possession- his everlasting soul. Her breasts quickly filled the gap between them and his lips, and his lips were forced to lock in a death-kiss with her titanic nipple.

Pushed over the edge by the powerful effect of asphyxiation, John came thunderously inside her, what seemed like buckets-full of come. With his confession and commitment, Beth swelled even further with pleasure and satisfaction. As she grew larger, her skin went translucent, and the poor office groaned with the strain of containing her.

Completely spent of oxygen, John's vision went from a 180 degree view of blurry, fleshy, translucent breast balloons to a tunnel vision that told him he was about to black out and probably die.

But in the last moments, her skin took on an extra-shiny sheen, the very look a balloon gets just before it's about to pop, and then she literally burst with pleasure and pressure, spraying bits of her balloon self and the remainder of her shredded clothes all about the room. The office reverberated powerfully with the explosion.

Miraculously, the giant red balloon had somehow survived, but all that was left of the man named John was a blank stare and a fading pulse.

The One

And with complete ownership of his soul and no further use for her body, Beth blinked John's eyes open and started him breathing again. She stood him up and forced him to put one foot in front of the other, ever so slowly, making shaky progress for the door. It was off to the circus with a present for her sweet friend Barbara.

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