On Air

Mitzi looked at herself once more in her pocket mirror and gave a self-satisfied smile. She reached up and patted a stray hair back into place in her impeccably fashionable style. The mirror folded shut with a little click and went back into her pocket as she turned to face the camera, plastering a bright smile into place on her face. It was easy to see how Mitzi had risen to be the star reporter of the local TV news channel. She simply radiated bright, perky charisma. Her wide blue eyes sparkled with verve and enthusiasm and her short dark hair seemed to bounce even when she stood still. The expensive tailored suit she had chosen accented her fit, curvaceous figure perfectly, enhancing and flattering it.

Behind the camera the cameraman waited a moment, then nodded. “OK, we're live in three... two... one...” he pointed to her as the light blinked on.

“Thanks, Jeff,” Mitzi laughed, picking up her cue from an invisible anchorman. “Well, we're here live in the suburbs of Littleton, covering the unfolding story of a very unusual epidemic that seems to be plaguing the populace. With me today is Robert Smith, a student of medical science at the local university and self-proclaimed 'expert' on the odd condition that's arising from this disease. Now, Robert, perhaps you can tell us exactly what's happening here?”

Robert, a gawky, nervous young man with the pallor that comes from long hours spent in front of a computer screen, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, Mitzi, nothing like this has ever been seen before, so we're still trying to figure out exactly what's going on. As far as we can tell, it's an airborne bacteria that seems to be selecting victims at random. Once a person is infected, the bacteria quickly multiply and spread throughout the host's entire body – as far as we can tell, the disease only incubates for an hour before symptoms start showing. It would be extremely alarming except,” he added hastily, “that the symptoms appear to be completely benign. They're just a little startling, is all.”

“Well, that's good to hear,” Mitzi said, laughing and giving Robert her sweetest smile. Much to her surprise, the young man blushed.

He must not have had much to do with girls, she thought sympathetically. Pity, he really seems like a nice guy. Mitzi had been chatting with the subject of her interview while her camera crew got their equipment set up and had found Robert to be charming and likeable, once you got past the clumsy awkwardness. Hm, she pondered, maybe when we're done here I'll ask him to go have a drink with me.

She cut off that train of thought and returned to the task at hand. “So Robert,” she said, “can you bring me up to speed? What are the symptoms?”

“Well,” Robert replied, twisting his hands together uncertainly, “once the bacteria have populated the host's body completely, for some reason they start manufacturing a harmless inert gas. This gas quickly fills the body of the infected person, and the person...” he cleared his throat again, pausing to loosen his collar, “well, they blow up. Like a balloon. They just start swelling and bloating up. In some cases, where there's enough of the gas, which appears to have especially buoyant properties, the host actually starts floating off the ground. It's really weird but,” he chuckled nervously, “it's kind of cool to watch, once the initial surprise wears off.”

“Isn't that something!” Mitzi gave one of her famously charming laughs again. “And this doesn't hurt the infected person at all?”

“No, and that's odd too,” Robert answered, warming to his subject. “The bacteria appear to manufacture a substance that renders the host's skin and tissues extremely elastic and strong, so they can stretch almost indefinitely without tearing or breaking. The... inflation... lasts about twenty-four hours, and then the host's immune system starts killing off the bacteria. Within another twelve hours the infection dies down, and the gas starts diffusing out of the person's system. We've examined the subjects and there appear to be no permanent effects, other than the fact that many of the victims are a little hysterical or unhinged by what they've experienced. They're receiving psychological treatment. Actually there's a surprising percentage who say that it's kind of a fun sensation.”

“Fascinating! So now let's talk about you. You say you're an 'expert' in these cases, what's your connection to...” Mitzi trailed off, frowning slightly. Her stomach was grumbling slightly. Her cameraman caught her eye and glared, reminding her that she was on the air, so she plastered her smile back on and turned back to look at Robert. She opened her mouth to continue her question, but suddenly she noticed that Robert was staring at her.

“Er... miss Mitzi,” he said timidly, “do you feel okay?”

“Me? Yes, of course,” she said, frowning again in puzzlement. “Well... although, now that you mention it, it does feel a little hot out here.” She hadn't noticed it, but she was starting to feel a little flushed and short of breath. “And my stomach feels a bit funny,” she added as it growled again. She reached up self-consciously to rub her belly.

It was an odd sensation. Her fingers felt strangely detached, as though she was feeling them touch her midriff through a layer of rubber, and they hit her skin with a strangely hollow feeling, like tapping a balloon. Weirdest of all, her touch actually made a hollow “thunk” noise, like hitting a drum. She looked down at her stomach in puzzlement, then back up at Robert with dawning horror.

Robert's face was resigned and sympathetic. “You've got it,” he said simply.

Mitzi squeaked in fear and dropped her microphone as the implications hit her. Even as she stared pleadingly at Robert, an unusual tingling sensation swept through her body. She gasped and wrapped her arms around herself, doubling over. She slowly straightened up, drawing her arms away and staring down at herself.

Her belly had grown. Not grotesquely; it looked as though she had just stuffed herself with Thanksgiving dinner. Nevertheless, it was enough that the waistband of her closely tailored suit skirt was cutting into her newly swollen midriff.

Mitzi snapped her head up and gave the cameraman a panicky look. “Turn off the camera!” she wailed desperately, waving both hands at him. “I can't let them see me blow up like a blimp!”

“Are you kidding?” the cameraman retorted, continuing to stare into the camera's eyepiece. “This is gold! An actual case of the disease in progress!”

Mitzi gave an incoherent shout of frustration, but even as she did so the tingling in her body intensified. Suddenly the taut, overheated feeling she'd been noticing became noticeably stronger, as did the tightness of her clothing. Glancing back at herself she could see that her whole body had become bloated slightly. Her thighs felt tight and thick, rubbing against one another, and her breasts had inflated as well, much to her horror and humiliation. It just looked as though someone had stuck a bicycle pump into her and pumped it once or twice. She could tell it wouldn't stay that mild, however; even as she watched she could see herself swelling further.

Her trim waistline widened yet again, this time shooting out enough to pop the buttons on her skirt. Her belly bounced free, seeming glad to be released from its constraints, and started swelling with a vengeance. Mitzi could hear a faint hissing noise as she bloated all over, which was joined in a moment by another, rather more worrisome noise – the sound of seams tearing.

“Oh, no...” Mitzi moaned, tugging at her clothing as her bloated form filled it out and pressed against the fabric. The threads of the seams stretched and started giving way. Mitzi fidgeted uncomfortably, breathing quickly as her formerly well-tailored clothing grew unbearably tight. She looked imploringly back at the camera.

“You have to turn it off,” she pleaded, even as her swelling bosom began popping the buttons from her shirt. Her breasts bounced free, each the size of a ripe watermelon and growing fast. Her bra, audibly creaking and straining, was holding them for the moment, but Mitzi could tell it was about to give up the ghost. “In a moment I'm going to be totally naked!”

“The censors back at the studio can fix it up,” the cameraman said firmly. “This is going to send our ratings through the roof.”

Mitzi closed her eyes in silent despair and turned away from the camera, wrapping her arms around her growing midriff. To her surprise she found that she could barely reach around her own stomach, and she opened her eyes to examine herself. Her stomach was a huge sphere now, but it wasn't sagging at all – the buoyant gas filling her body was actually pulling her up so that she felt much lighter. Fascinated, she reached out and stroked her humongous belly for a second or two. She was distracted, however, by the sound of tearing cloth as her skirt finally threw in the towel and parted at the seams, falling around her feet in rags and leaving Mitzi standing in nothing but her bra and pink flower-printed panties – on live television. She gave an indignant squeal and spun around again, glaring at the cameraman while doing her best to cover herself – which wasn't easy. Not only was there much more of her now to cover, her arms were starting to plump up as well, making it difficult to move them. In fact, the skin all over her body felt tight as it stretched to cover her new, larger shape. It felt hot, tingly, and not altogether unpleasant, although it was a sensation she would have preferred to experience without having to turn into a blimp on the morning news.

Mitzi's stomach protruded so far forward now that if she had fallen forward, she would only have fallen for a few inches. The rest of her body was so swollen that she looked as though she had gained about four hundred pounds, except for the fact that the bulk was tight, smooth, and round instead of jiggly and flabby, and rather than gaining weight she felt lighter every second. A breeze might have bowled her over, and the way things were going now, she would have rolled.

Looking down at herself for a second, Mitzi saw that her stomach didn't appear to be growing any farther outwards. For a moment she felt a brief, soaring hope that her humiliation was over, but it quickly plunged into misery again as she felt what was happening to the gas that was still being produced. Her round middle was expanding again, beginning to engulf her torso, turning her into a sphere with arms and legs. Mitzi whimpered as the swelling pushed her legs apart, making her sway slightly and almost lose her balance. The hot tightness was intensifying, making her sweat and breathe heavily, as though she'd been excercising hard, and what was worse (given the circumstances) it was even more intense as the swelling continued to blow her breasts up and push down on the space between her legs. Under the combined assault, it took all of her self control not to just give up and enjoy the feeling. She decided to make one last effort at getting the cameraman to shut things down.

“I'm warning you,” she said, even her voice sounding thick and laboured. Her swollen cheeks were making talking difficult. “Turn that camera off or I'm going to sue.”

The cameraman snorted, sounding unconvinced. Mitzi waddled forward threateningly, but she still wasn't used to her new round shape. She overbalanced, waving desperately with her pudgy arms, and fell over backwards. She bounced when she hit the ground, and the inflation, as though spurred on by that, suddenly accelerated. Within a few seconds Mitzi had swollen out to a completely spherical shape, and to her shock, she kept blowing up, her whole body growing until her new... well, she supposed she had to measure herself in diameter now... was bigger than she had been tall before. Mitzi tried to think how that was possible; she focused on herself, but she had no feeling inside herself except for the uncomfortable hot tightness of her skin and, below that, the full, contented feeling of having a belly full of food. Again she was distracted, however, as her much abused undergarments finally gave up the struggle. With a twanging noise that seemed to Mitzi like an elastic the size of a city street breaking, the clasps of her bra parted and it flew off. A split second later the waistband of her panties parted, her underwear shredding into rags.

As though her mortification had appeased whatever force was driving her expansion, Mitzi's rate of growth abruptly began slowing, and within a few seconds had stopped. She was now a perfectly round sphere, about ten feet across, with pudgy hands and feet sticking out and a face that seemed small and insignificant over stuffed chipmunk cheeks. She sat there, rolling helplessly back and forth as she stared in horror at the camera, which had recorded every detail of her experience. After another few seconds, the cameraman, apparently satisfied that she wasn't about to bloat up even more, looked up and nodded, flipping off the camera and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“OK, people!” he called to the crew as he strolled back to the van. “Let's get back to the studio.”

“What about me?” Mitzi called forlornly. The cameraman glanced back at her and laughed.

“You wouldn't fit in the van, lady. We'll send a truck back later to pick you up.” With another nasty laugh, he climbed into the van and drove away, leaving Mitzi all alone.

Mitzi closed her eyes, despair welling up inside her. Around her, there was no sound except the wind blowing, and a faint creaking as her tight skin tried to hold in the air inside her. Two tears rolled down her swollen cheeks.

Suddenly, she felt something. A hand, touching her massive middle. She started and opened her eyes, glancing down at the ground far below. Robert was standing there, one hand on her skin, stroking it gently. He gazed up at her with eyes full of sympathy and compassion. Mitzi sniffed, wondering what exactly one was supposed to say in these circumstances, but Robert didn't seem to need words. He put both of his hands on her belly and pushed gently, rolling her over so that she lay on her back, looking helplessly up at the sky. Robert walked around her so that he could see her face.

“The clinic's just over this way,” he said softly. “I'll help you.”

Placing his hands tenderly on her side, he rolled her over again. Turn by turn, slowly, Robert rolled the swollen woman out of the street and into the shelter and privacy of a nearby building.

Several hours later, Mitzi had been comfortably installed in the temporary inflation clinic that had been set up in a nearby apartment, chosen because it had the widest doors in the neighbourhood. Someone had brought in a big white sheet to cover her and informed her that there was really nothing to do but wait. Fortunately, as Robert had said, it would wear off in about twenty-four hours, but until then Mitzi was left alone with her misery, unable to even move by herself.

She had been crying again for a while when she heard the sounds of the curtain being pulled aside, startling her. She sniffed and blinked away the tears, looking down at her visitor. It was Robert, looking uncomfortable and holding a bouquet of a dozen red roses.

“I came to see how you were doing,” he said quietly, reaching around her to put the bouquet on the table.

For a moment Mitzi was just going to mutter a sullen “just fine, thanks,” but as she opened her mouth she suddenly found herself crying again, the feelings that had been stewing inside her suddenly flowing out.

“Terrible,” she said miserably. “My career is probably over. All of my colleagues, all of my friends saw me blow up into a blimp on camera. They're not going to be able to take me seriously after this; none of my viewers are. Any guy I date in the future isn't going to be able to stop picturing me as a big round balloon. Maybe things aren't so bad, but right now,” she said, sniffling, “it seems that way.”

Robert stepped forward and, to Mitzi's surprise, stretched out his arms and put them as far around her as he could reach – which wasn't very far. It looked so funny that Mitzi started laughing through her tears. For a few minutes she couldn't stop laughing, though she was crying at the same time. It gave her the hiccups, and that made her laugh even harder, until when she finally calmed down there was a weak, tentative smile on her face. Roger smiled back and stepped away, patting her belly gently.

“First of all,” he said softly, “it's not quite that bad. Your studio called and told me to tell you that they're getting calls from all over the city from people who saw your clip and have either had the inflation disease themselves or sympathize with you. There's such strong feeling in your favor that not only are they letting you come back as soon as you're feeling up to it, they're giving you a raise.”

“That's good...” Mitzi sniffed, but before she could say anything else Roger spoke up again.

“And second,” he said, voice becoming soft and tender as he stepped forward again, placing both hands on her belly and massaging it slowly, sending tingling waves of excitement over her skin, “guys may picture you like this now, but not all guys see that as a bad thing.”

Mitzi looked down at Robert in shock. He smiled shyly up at her. “It's true,” he said, “there are some of us out there that absolutely love stuff like this. We draw pictures, write stories... to us, this inflation bug is a dream come true. That's what I meant when I was telling you I was an expert on this stuff.”

“So the whole time I was inflating, you were...” Mitzi started, but Robert interrupted her again.

“I was excited at first,” he confessed. “I watch you on the news every day. I've had a huge crush on you for a while now, so it was nice for me to watch you blow up like this.” He smiled nervously up at her. “But when I saw how miserable you were, that you were so embarrassed about it, I felt terrible for you. All I could think about was getting you inside and getting you some privacy, but you were too busy arguing with the cameraman.”

Mitzi stared down at him with mixed feelings. It was true, the inflation had happened so fast she hadn't had much time to do anything besides feel embarrassed and angry. She had completely forgotten about Robert during that time. Had he really been trying to think of a way to help her?

“For what it's worth,” Robert added with a nervous grin, “I think you're absolutely beautiful right now. I've never seen anyone get quite this big before.” He patted her belly then, awkwardly but tenderly, reached up and took her hand, tilting her forward. Standing on tiptoe, he kissed her full on the mouth.

After a second, he let her go, and she rolled back, mind in a turmoil. All she could do was stare down at Robert, who was beginning to look extremely uncomfortable and starting to fidget.

“I... I'm sorry if I...” he began, but this time Mitzi interrupted him.

“There are people who find this attractive, you say?” she said slowly. Robert nodded, unsure of where she was going. Mitzi squirmed awkwardly and leaned forward, tilting herself forward again so her eyes were on a level with his. The two of them stared at one another for a moment. Then, Mitzi smiled.

“Tell me more,” she said, and kissed him.