Male Inflation

It was Monday and I was back to work, all I could think about was going home and inflating. Some time, during lunch, I sat at my desk, and decided I needed to call my discovery something. Later that day, while getting ready to go home, I was stopped by security. I was escorted to the presidents’ office. He was an older gentleman with gray hair, brown eyes, tired face and a course voice from all the cigar smoking in his years. They security guard escorted me to the chair and I sat down. Hans, he began, so did everyone else, no one like to say my full name.

The door to the evil laboratory was strong, but Captain Fabulous was stronger, wrenching the steel panels from their frame with no more difficulty than an ordinary person would have placing a small marble statue on a particularly high shelf.

“Freeze, ne’er-do-well!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “I am Captain Fabulous, champion of justice, leaping forward to fight crime without a moment’s hesitation!”

The crystalline drops I remember with unnatural accuracy. The way they caressed the skin, gently, slowly creating clear trails of liquid mirrors that reflected the surroundings. I envision them still, and immediately fill with passion – with need, the thought alone filling my whole being with the aches of desire. It is my abdomen, however, that begins to feel more determined, pressing outward with immense intensity. It has become so that I can't leave my apartment when it's raining outside. I have to stay indoors in order to keep from losing my head entirely.