Implied

His breath came in ragged puffs, as the pressure built inside his skin. The feeling was intensely powerful, and he was drowning in sensation. His body arched forward, pulling at the restraints that held his wrists and ankles to the dark warehouse wall.

His attention was caught by a glint of movement -- a hand with shiny red nails came to rest on the helium tank valve. As she turned it another twist, he felt the flow of gas increase...swelling his already hugely rounded body.

She sighs and studies her face in the bedroom mirror, the turned-down corners of her mouth, the fretful crease in her brow she cannot erase, nor ease the dull ache and mounting pressure behind her temples.   Her everyday stresses collected right there, it seemed, worries and fears building and pressing until her head felt as if it were about to explode.  That was when she needed release, and though it was an addiction she tried to manage, sometimes it was the only way.

"... but it felt so good..."

A loud deliberate cough echoed in the room, startling the young lady who passed out while laying down on the navy large couch. This particular couch has seen more than its fair share of use lately, as it is right in the middle of a small therapist's office.

All Elliot could see in front of him was a row of enormous balloons, painted various colors and anchored by hardly visible strings. To most people the only indication as to their true nature were the small nubs on their upper and lower sides, but Elliot had a more obvious hint; the heads perched on the top of each one. The faces were nearly expressionless, puffed out too much for any movement, with the occasional shifting of the eyes being the only sign they were actually alive. Most people would have found it a peculiar sight, but to Elliot it was particularly unnerving.