Trapped

Andrea strolled about in her camisole singing softly to herself as she merrily tossed rose petals across the floor. Eric would be home soon, and her skin tingled at the thought of cavorting with him among the fragrant petals.

Suddenly an arm reached around her waist. Andrea squeaked girlishly. It wouldn't be the first time Eric had surprised her from behind. Confusion, then fear flashed through her mind as a chemical-soaked cloth was brought to her face and something pressed against her navel. Her vision blurred, and a surge of pressure ballooned within her; her bosom billowed forward, her arms grew plump and turgid. Black lace tightened about her swelling torso, the sharp staccato of popping seams growing dull as she faded into unconsciousness.

When Andrea awoke, she was huge, round and immobile. The hose attached to her navel stretched to an air tank near the front door. A piece of twine connected its valve to the doorknob.

Terrified, Andrea watched the twine pull taut as the door opened.

"Hey honey, I'm home!"

"Eric, no!" Andrea shrieked. But it was too late. With a metallic squeak, the valve opened wide. A loud hiss filled the air as a rush of air filled Andrea.

"Oh my God! Andrea?" Eric stood frozen in the doorway, gawking at the living balloon before him. "What happened to you?" Andrea was blowing up, growing larger and fuller with each passing second.

"Help me!" Andrea screamed.

Following her frantic gaze, Eric ran to the tank and twisted the valve. It didn't budge. Andrea outgrew the height of the room; her hugely distended body was squeezed between the floor and the ceiling.

"Hrrwyy!" Her cheeks had swollen enough to impede her speech.

Giving up on the valve, Eric tried to detach the hose. But no amount of twisting or pulling could dislodge it from the tank.

"Hhhmmmmff!" She couldn't take much more.

Desperate, he tried to yank the hose from Andrea but it was pressed too tightly underneath her vast belly.

Andrea's overstretched skin strained, creaked, groaned. Shuddering with muffled sobs, Andrea clenched her eyes shut.

The windows shattered explosively, showering the lawn with rose petals and shards of glass.

"And then?" June asked.

"Andrea was gone," Eric said. "Nothing left but her torn lingerie. Funny thing is, even without a body, convicting an innocent man of murder is easier than you might think."

The guard returned to the interview room. "Time's up, Meadows. Let's go."

Eric stood. "Nothing more to say anyway. The rest was all in the papers."

"Thank you for meeting with me."

"Thanks for listening."

That evening June gathered everything she had relating to the case and placed it into a folder labeled "Meadows, Andrea". Sighing gloomily, she stashed it in her safe, neatly filed between Maritz, Stephanie and Miller, Elizabeth.