Breast Inflation

On a cool morning just a few days after her twenty-fourth birthday, Rachel Hershley stood before the tall mirror in her bedroom, about to try on a new pair of black jeans. They had been gifted by Jessie Wright, a friend who lived the floor below in that same apartment complex. She appreciated the gesture, she honestly did, but when she looked on them on that day, she wasn’t quite sure if they were actually her size. They had been sitting in her closet ever since, but Rachel had grown a bit weary of her usual get-up.

Why did it have to be me?

Palm trees and lamp posts were the alternating columns that lined the wide sidewalks along the spacious flat lanes. The jet-black luxury car was the confined space that hummed all around her while gradually outspeeding the other traffic under a hazy grey sky.

Gabby’s Gadget
By Inflate123

“Discrete packaging my ass.”

Staring at the contents of her mailbox, Gabby frowned. She expected a brown box, plain, non-descript -- boring. Instead, she got a brown box with the words PERSONNEL INFLATOR on the outside. Very descriptive, albeit misspelled; this package was adorned with Chinese characters and clearly not printed by a company that was all that fluent in the English language. Still -- good lord, what must the mail carrier think?