Sure, Why Not?
It took you about three years to befriend Jordan.
Jordan was the ‘cool’ one around town. People said that she’s the one that did the graffiti on the water tower, that she jumped the fence and stole that bus, that she could make any vending machine dispense whatever she wanted by her sheer presence alone. Everybody always knew where to find her, but nobody dared to talk to her. She was intimidating.
Course’, those three years weren’t really spent breaking through her icy personality, eh, no, those were working up the courage to talk to her. Y’see, not only was she intimidating from the aura of radiant coolness that surrounded her, but she was also smoking hot. Heavy in the chest, wide in the hips, thin in the waist. Enough fat to show that she wasn’t a twig, but distributed amongst her thighs and ass in a spectacular way her fashion sense loved to show off. Cut off jeans and crop tops of bands and gang signs on the reg.
She never smiled though. Or hardly much expression for that matter. She was always… apathetic at everything. It seemed impossible to get a rise out of her, or much of a reaction at all.
More to the point however, one day you approached her, intent to be shot down. Perfectly ready to accept defeat.
“H-Hey Jordan,” You stammered. “Y’wanna hang out sometime?”
She looked down at you, aloft on her metaphorical throne.
“Sure, why not?”
Before you knew it, she was hanging at your place, sleeping on your couch and eating your chips. You got close. She talked about bands, you talked about video games and talk shows. Sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, you think you could even see her smile once in a while. Did things ever get kinky between you two? Who’s to say. There were rumors around town that Jordan had finally found a beau, but nothing to confirm. Didn’t stop you from dreaming bout’ her.
One day, you got an idea. Y’see, you didn’t talk about it much but you had a thing for balloons. Big ones. Huuuuge ones. There was this thing on the internet, a supposed secret way to have people be the balloons. This is where the gears in your head started turning in regards to Jordan, and the more you thought about it, the more you just couldn’t quash the idea.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You popped the question to her, explaining it the best and most articulate ways that you could.
“I take this hose and you, um, put it in your mouth and it’ll inflate you like a big balloon. It’s supposed to feel real nice.”
Jordan stayed silent, still keeping that neutral look on her face. After a second, she spoke up. “...Is that all?”
“Well, uh, yeah that’s about the long and short of it?”
You waited for her to walk away, weirded out. To your complete surprise that didn’t happen.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds fun. We’ll do it at your house tomorrow. See ya then man.” She nodded and strutted away into the city.
Needless to say you were ready tomorrow with over an hour to spare.
That day Jordan opened the door to your apartment. You’d moved all your furniture to separate rooms already in preparation for her inflation. Jordan herself had dressed the same; a crop top cut-off black t-shirt and shorts with matching leggings. She tossed her short black hair out of her eyes and threw her bag into the corner. “We good to go?”
You nodded, before walking out into another room and quickly returned with a large air-canister. Just compressed air, used for construction. It had cost… an embarrassingly large amount for simply compressed air, and you regretted not just getting a compressor. You unfurled the hose and tossed it to her, which she immediately put in her mouth. You stood at the ready to turn the valve, looking at Jordan. “You ready?” You asked, already anxious in picturing her imminent transformation. She gave an apathetic thumbs up, idly having her hand on her hip.
You gave the valve a hearty turn, and a hissing sound filled the apartment.
Nothing really happened at first. Jordan didn’t really change her expression from one of vague boredom, instead just staring down her nose at the hose trailing from her mouth. Her cheeks had puffed up slightly, and it seemed she may have been standing up a little bit straighter than the lazy slouch she usually persisted, but otherwise no change. You wanted to slap yourself; this was a dumb idea. There’s no way this was something that could physically happen. Jordan was just humoring you, you were willing to bet.
Thoroughly made a fool of, you reached over to twist the valve shut, sighing loudly. As you did though Jordan made a sound from across the room. She was holding up one hand for you to stop as she placed the other around her breast.
She palmed it carefully, squeezing herself. She looked to you, motioning to look at her chest, to which you needed no excuse to do so. Upon close examination her already large chest was indeed expanding, albeit very very slowly, underneath her black-polished nails. You met Jordan’s gaze as you marveled at the idea. She gave no protest as you reached back towards the valve of the compressed air canister and gave it a hearty turn to transform the trickle of air into a roar.
The effect was instantaneous. Jordan’s small, barely noticeable expansion was magnified into a visible process. Her chest had started already tightly-confined in her cut-off shirt but as she grew it became painfully obvious it wasn’t going to survive the process. Her chest had been large but beneath her cupped hands quickly grew beyond the world of possibility. She started from cantaloupe and steadily moved her way to melons, with larger sizes lying within range of just a few more moments of air. They filled outwards roundly, perking up as they did to become large airy spheres attached to her torso, and her cleavage moved upwards in an arc as the balloons in her shirt pressed against both it and each other. She cupped them as they grew, and as they grew lighter and lighter to simply lay on her open palms she traced small semi-circles with her thumbs on her newfound sensitive skin.
Meanwhile down below at her hips, you watched with rapt attention as her thighs expanded. Already pleasantly plump, they grew thicker and wider to match her growing ass. Her cut-off jeans grew tighter as they grew along and as her flesh poured around the straining material, you watched as closely as possible the texture and shape Jordan was taking. Her thigh, hips, and ass all ballooned outward as if taken from your dreams. Her hourglass figure was expanding outwards perfectly, growing rounder and tighter. She reached down and fingered the hem of her shorts, cutting into her thighs. You could see how tight her shorts were against her skin from how it bulged, and if you looked close enough, you could even see how her skin was already showing a shine. Like a latex sheen her thighs and breasts were gleaming not from sweat but from as if simple lighting and pressure. You were not quite sure exactly if you were drooling or not but you took the liberty of closing your mouth anyway.
Jordan for her part was taking the act of becoming a human balloon with the same degree of attention she gave most things; varying degrees of chill aloofness. She cupped her breasts, now far beyond even the most reasonable of size, more like beach balls constrained within her shirt, and slightly bounced them with the tips of her fingers. Her shirt was straining from the mission of containing her pneumatic tits and it wouldn’t be long before her Black Sabbath tee finally gave up the ghost. You could tell from the tightness of the shirt Jordan had left her bra at home, as her erect nipples proudly stood out from the black tee.
She gave a soft noise (the first she had made regarding the process of actual inflation), and reached hands down to her lower stomach. You nodded thoughtfully in sympathetic agreement; from the rate of her ass’ expansion her shorts were on their way to become a set of confining underwear for her, and was loudly beginning to strain. You bet it was constricting her quite a lot to the point of discomfort, considering the rate of her hips’ growth. Her ass was not to be outdone by her chest and was keeping a steady matching pace; the effect was that of an overinflated blow-up doll: beach ball sized boobs with thighs to match. Jordan was probably hoping for at some point her shorts to tear away and leave her free to expand unabated; you were hoping for the same thing though pretended to have the same degree of sympathetic origins.
To your surprise though Jordan was not tugging at the base of her shorts. She was rubbing her pale belly. You watched it closely for the first time since her inflation. With a sudden gasp of surprise you realized her trim and flat stomach had lost both of those traits; she looked as though she was carrying. She rubbed herself as her stomach grew outwards, going from triplets to overdue with said triplets in seconds. It was as if her stomach was insulted by her chest and hips growth and was determined to reach and outdo their sizes as fast as possible.
Jordan spread her legs wide to welcome the new growth. You met her gaze, and you noticed her expression had softly changed. Lost some of that degree of apathy, instead replaced with… excitement? Or what passed as the emotion for Jordan. She was slightly blushing, though you would guess that a process such as this should provide markedly more of a reaction than that of slight-embarrassment. Or eroticism, you couldn’t tell. Still, she gave a sudden start as the sound of popping seams rang through the air.
She ignored her growing belly briefly, which was reaching the point of growing into a handsome hemisphere whose circumference was to approach the floor any minute, to dart her delicate hands to her thighs. Her shorts were finally popping away to leave her pale shining skin to expand outwards. With one last final storm of seams, her cut-offs burst away from her behind. Her ass adored the freedom, and in seconds her hips had expanded out several inches with the new space to fill. You could see that, while Jordan had elected to forgo the bra, she had not done so with her panties. Black and lacy, decorated with skulls; just what you would expect and hope for. It was riding up her pale ass, slightly freckled you could tell, into a g-string. You couldn’t hazard how comfortable it may have been, but you weren’t about to ask or complain.
It was taking every fiber of your being to not begin to hold and caress her. To take her full thighs and stomach in your hands and push in, to squeeze her and hear the creaks of pressure and feel the resistance against you. So fragile, vulnerable, defenseless. You stared at the gleaming balloon of Jordan’s butt, and if you didn’t know any better, it almost seemed as Jordan was shaking it slightly side to side. Intentional or not, you couldn’t tell.
Her attention was obviously dedicated to her belly. It had not stopped growing during the destruction of Jordan’s shorts and was now slightly tapping against the ground. It extended outwards in a perfect hemisphere, and had pushed her breasts atop it. It was clear that Jordan was blinded from behind her giant boobs, but she didn’t seem in any particular hurry to regain her sight. Her hands didn’t stop their soft circles on her stomach, round and round, easing her growth. She readjusted herself every once in a while, which sent her whole body trembling. You couldn’t help but attempt to take in every inch of her.
Her admittedly very stretchy shirt was beginning to show signs of finally giving up as small tears and holes appeared along her chest. Her shiny and gleaming latex skin flashed and bulged from within these holes and only served to make them larger. Her shirt’s destruction was much faster than that of her ill-fated shorts, as within seconds of her shirt showing signs of destruction, it was torn clean in two in a loud tear. Jordan’s shirt fell away as her massive breasts, large as yoga balls, bounced against first one another and then her belly. They moved up and down with her breathing whilst growing with her air intake. She rubbed them softly and attempted to reach her nipples once, vaguely. She gave up swiftly before giving her breasts a slight bounce. Seemingly satisfied, she hugged her own chest. To your surprise, she gave a non-too-gently squeeze and pressed her boobs together forcefully. A loud creak rang out, oddly loud against the soft hiss of her inflation.
She let her chest fall with a sudden motion, startled by the volume of her turgid form. The sound served to strike you from your reverie, breaking the spell her monstrous ballooning body had cast upon your senses. You gave the tank a twist shut and cut off her air flow before taking a good look at her with a sane eye. You actually had to take a step backwards first though, she was so massive.
The incredibly curvy short-black-haired rocker that had entered your apartment less than an hour ago had been replaced with a massive pale balloon. Her breasts, now slightly larger than yoga balls, were completely dwarfed by her massive stomach. It was a huge sphere that dominated her frame, extending down to the floor and out so much that you were worried that she would touch the couch pushed against the opposite wall. Her hips and ass spread out behind her to support such a massive belly, and her thighs were wide and gleaming. Her black leggings were tight on her thighs and legs, and you could tell that her legs almost down to the ankle had been expanding at least a little as well, and it wouldn’t be long before the stitching there would fail as the rest of her attire had. Her panties were still steadfastly holding on as far as you could tell, but from your craned neck and discerning eye could tell had been swallowed by her speckled ass minutes ago. Only the slight elastic black band that cut into her waist and ass showed any signs of such a thing. She was rising and falling with her breath; a strangely exaggerated process given her size, and you were taken by just… how much of Jordan there was. It was something from your wildest wet dreams; the most beautiful girl you’ve ever known had been blown up into a massive blimp here in your apartment. You reached out a hand to touch the shining latex surface of her stomach.
“Why’d you stop it?”
Her voice took you off guard. For some reason you’d forgotten she could even talk. You took a step back and looked back up at her. Her voice was muffled somewhat, the hose still in her mouth, but she was looking down at you with a mix of hunger, honest confusion, and one other unreadable ingredient. She nodded her head at the air tank, as if she was guessing you didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Oh,” You stammered, “Uh, you seemed really full and I thought that meant we should stop it?”
Jordan looked at herself, then patted her belly. A loud, hollow reverberating noise echoed in the apartment. “I still got tons of room, man.” She placed her perfectly manicured hands on her chest and pressed inwards. There was the slightest of give you had to admit. “I thought the goal was to blow me up into a giant balloon? I can still get bigger dude.” She shook herself a little, trying to reach for her panties. “Besides, I’m never getting these off unless they snap. Turn the air back on.”
That was the most you’ve ever heard Jordan say in one sitting. It was enough to knock you from your private balloon reverie. Gazing at her, at how humongous she had become, it was hard to imagine more air somehow forcing its way into her overstretched skin. You feared too much more… well, may pop her outright. The imagery intruded into your head; the blizzard of skin shards, the ruined clothing, her hair maybe caught on the coat hook on the door. You could even imagine removing her pair of overstretched panties from your head in a cartoonish fashion right now. It wasn’t exactly an entirely undesirable outcome you had to admit but not one you dreamed of at the current moment.
But still Jordan pressured you, in that flat way of speaking she has. “C’mon man. What’s the hold up?”
She could probably take a bit more, you tell yourself as you turn the tank back on. She’s the balloon after all, she’d know what she could take.
Jordan made a soft noise from behind the hose as the air resumed its journey. Her hands returned to rubbing her chest and belly as she puffed up. It was beginning to reach a point where it was growing hard to tell which part of her was what; she was becoming a massive collection of gleaming latex spheres. If examined closely, one could see delicate hands rubbing them, but soon those would be hidden behind the massive wall of her overinflated breasts.
Said breasts finally bumped against the ceiling of your apartment. Her belly was threatening the side wall soon, and you realized now that her ass was now blocking the front door; it could not be opened entirely without opening it into her entirely. Until Jordan deflated, you were trapped in your apartment. A horny balloon woman was not the worst thing to be trapped by, you thought.
You want to touch her now. You can see how tight she is. Her turgid flesh softly bends with the force of the mass amount of air compressed within her. This time, you don’t stop yourself. Jordan dwarfs you. Any attention upon you is either minuscule or nonexistent. She contents herself with trying to ease the euphoric pressure mounting within her. Looking up to see her clearly, you can see that air had even begun to pool in the base of her arms, giving her an entirely swollen appearance even in areas that had not been so. Her face was buried in her cleavage seemingly on purpose and it was red; a bright red of erotic pleasure no mistaking.
You reach a hand out for her ass and with a confident but delicate touch, you place it. A new sound greets you; a groan. A groan of stretched rubber emanating from within the balloon before you. It startles you but not enough to remove the hand from Jordan. She’s tighter than you expected and you believed that even if you pushed in with only the slightest of force she’d be confetti in an instant. You rub soft circles on her sensitive self instead, and you are rewarded with a louder noise than Jordan’s signs of pressure. She moans, loudly. It’s a naked noise, more genuine than anything she’s ever said to you or seemingly anyone. You gaze up at her, craning to see past her titanic rear. She gazes down at you, her eyes full of longing. She moans again when you resume. This time it’s no trick of the eyes, she does her best to stick her ass out behind her in a presentation.
In doing so, you're presented with a cacophony of squeaks and groans that cry out from her overstretched body. You know that she’s full and over her limits. Her skin started to move almost to transparency. The lines of her panties; a black thong is probably the only comparison and at that even in the best of examples, can be seen through her ass. She’s so incredibly full that she stops growing. She’s only growing tighter. She doesn’t have long before she blows.
You draw your hands away from the balloon at your fingertips and turn back towards the tank to turn it off. Instantly, Jordan moans out again. “W-wait… Don’t stop… Please,”
Pivoting on your heels you snap back to her. She’s trying to look at you, but the expanse of her body is too large to be a clear view. She may be looking through herself, you realize, gazing at the silhouette. “I’m such a big balloon~” She spoke with a voice unfiltered by apathy, controlled by lust. She patted herself happily, and was greeted with a flurry of sound. “But I can get bigger~! Mnnf…” She shook her ass at you. You bet if she could move herself any more, she’d press it against you. You oblige her the trouble and do so yourself, wrapping your arms around as much of Jordan as you can. You hear her gasp and moan loudly as her body screams it’s protest. “Oh! Mnnf, lower… I’m so tight… so tight… I’m a huge balloon…”
You feel a different sensation at your fingertips. And body. And cheek. A rumbling, a turgid quivering of her body. Several noises address you all at once: the rising creaks of Jordan’s skin, her collected moans of lust, and now a hissing sound far louder than that of the tank.
Her nipples, you realize. They're ejecting pressurized air. As is her nethers, you feel as you try to descend as per her request. All in a desperate attempt to not…
To not explode.
All too late your lust is finally shaken away. You quickly begin to crawl out from beneath her as her groans and moans alike rise to cries. She’s an overblown blimp, head touching the ceiling, belly taking up more than half the apartment. Previously a fairly tall but uproariously curvy punk has been transmogrified into a massive moaning balloon on the cusp of detonation.
“Oh! Oh! I’m… I’m so full! I think…~” She let’s the thought hang for a scant second. You are at the tank. Only seconds have passed but you feel you’ve wasted millennia. You wrap your hand around the nozzle right as you hear Jordan gasp a shaking, unfiltered climax.
“-oh fuck I’m going to explode~!!”
You're too late.
In an instant, Jordan vanishes and you are thrown from your feet. Your window and anything glass in more than likely the whole building shatters outwards from her detonation. A cloud of thin, pale, rubbery skin falls around you and onto the floor. The tank still hisses, and the nozzle once held in Jordan’s mouth now lies in the center of the room.
You pull yourself to your feet and brush bits of Jordan off of yourself. There, her hair atop a toppled chair. Her panties, not atop your head but instead caught half out of the window. You step on one of her earrings, and pull up your foot to retrieve it. You’ll probably be finding bits of Jordan in your house for weeks.
You can't really believe she popped. It was so sudden... but at the same time, you can't help but imagine it again in your mind. In a single moment, the titanic bomb of Jordan disappeared like a shot from a cannon. It was something you would relive several times in your mind for a long time to come.