I knew that I had it in me to be a writer. I'd done some articles for my college paper a couple of years ago, and I'd even won some creative writing contest held by the local news. I even knew the subject I wanted to write about; I should, since I was using it to come to terms with who I was.
It was weird, yes. Maybe a little perverse. But it was all harmless, and as long as nobody was hurt I kept going back to the same sites, looking at the same pictures, enjoying feeling those stirrings in me while simultaneously loathing myself for enjoying them. I would have clear scenarios as I lay in bed at night with my eyes closed, hoping to convince my brain to give me a dream that titillated me as it would make me a pariah if it ever became known among my friends.
Still, I couldn't bring myself to let myself into what little community existed around it. I would always be an outsider, passively consuming, never contributing. I wiped my caches and cookies regularly, never used pay sites, and used generic-sounding codes for the free ones. I was being so careful never to betray myself, until I realized that nobody cared. I could be free, and I could do something... But every time I started, I fell short and closed my word processor in frustration.
After yet another night of crippling writer's block, I put my head down in my arms when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I sat bolt upright and spun in my chair, whacking the armrest against my desk and causing a small avalanche of paper. A woman stood before me, dressed in a loose toga-like robe that wrapped around her waist and chest, hanging down over her legs and leaving her arms bare. From what I could see through the folds in the material, she wore sandals with thin strips that crossed and crossed again up her calves to her knees. Her skin was bronze, and she wore what looked like a ring of leaves in her thick black hair. She looked at me with startlingly blue eyes, then smiled broadly and spread her arms.
“There is one thing that all creators need,” she declared, before I could even stammer a question about who she was or even how she'd gotten in my room, “and that is inspiration.”
“Wh-Who are you!? How'd you get in my room!?” I gasped, without any originality.
The woman cocked her head slightly, then dropped her arms and sighed.
“Gods, look at this!” she said. “What do you think I am?”
“I don't know... A crazy woman in my house wearing a sheet?”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Funny.” She walked the few paces to my bed and sat down, crossing her legs primly and placing her hands on her knee. “I'm your Muse.”
“You're a figment of my imagination.”
“Same difference. Don't you know anything about history?” She cheered up and took on a lecturing tone. “Ever since ancient times, creative people needed ideas before they were able to do anything of worth. Sometimes it would be a sunset, sometimes a great battle...”
“...and sometimes a mysterious woman?”
“More times than you'd think.” She stood up and drew closer to me. “Whatever the actual scene of the inspiration was, it was believed that spirits or minor goddesses would place those thoughts in the creators' heads.”
“The Muses.” I had stayed awake during junior high history. “Aren't there only a few of them?”
“Oh, no!” she laughed. “Well, there are a few main ones, but they're all generalities. Like 'music' or 'pottery.' Those concepts cover a lot of ground! No, for specific ideas, there are untold numbers of us sneaking into people's minds and placing that little seed that grows into a big idea.”
“And... You're here for me?” I hadn't quite discounted the idea that this was a crazy woman, and began scooting my chair slowly towards the door.
“Oh, yes. And you need a major kick to get your motor running.”
“Isn't that a pretty modern metaphor for an ancient conceptual pseudodeity?”
“Get with the program!” she blurted. “I, that is, ME, am here to give you, that is, YOOOOU, the idea, to write THAAAAT.” She punctuated this by pointing from herself to me to the still-blank text window on my computer monitor, the cursor blinking steadily at the top of a white expanse.
“Okay... So why are you, that is, YOOOU, here in my room instead of popping pretty pictures into my head?”
“Because,” she said leaning down and looking into my eyes with a mischievous smile, “You need one hell of a mental image.”
“How do you know what I'm going to write about?”
She leaned in close to me, putting her lips to my ear, and whispered, “Ssssss...”
Panicked, I pushed her away from me and stood up. “How...? How do you know what I--”
She laughed again. “Hello? Muse?” She straightened up and put one hand on my shoulder. “Both you and I know what you want to write about. You just need motivation.”
I looked down, my cheeks burning. “You're here to help me write about...” My had to try three times to get the word out, and when it came, it was weak and shivering: “Inflation?”
She smiled patiently and nodded. “It takes all kinds. Hey, you know 'erotic' comes from 'Eros,' the god of physical lust?”
I was still stunned from being able to admit the name of my kink to another person... if she even was a person. “How do I know you're here? Maybe I'm dreaming, or, or finally snapped from sexual repression or something.”
“Look, if I'm here, I'm here to help you do something we both know you want to do. And if I'm not here, then you're doing it yourself so you might as well stop talking yourself in circles and do it already.” She folded her arms triumphantly and sat on the bed again. “So what do you say?”
There was little I could say to argue. It was all too outlandish to be real. Still, if she was right and I was making it up, than I really ought to just ride the wave and let the dream go on. “Okay.”
“Good!” she chirped. She reached under the bed and pulled out a large canister that I knew for a fact had never been there before. She caught my expression and just said “Muse” again with a grin. A long, thin hose was attached to the nozzle, and it was clear that the tank contained some kind of gas under pressure.
“Okay, here's how it's going to go,” she said. “I'll get started, and and you just let your mind take it all in, right?” I swallowed and nodded.
She reached out and tapped my forehead “You already know how this should go. It's in here. We're just going to let it out.”
“Not like Athena let herself out, right?” I asked nervously.
“Nice reference! But no.” She laughed once more and put the end of the hose in her mouth, holding it in the corner of her lips with one hand and putting her other on the wheel of the canister. “Are we ready?”
I took a few deep breaths, then let my gaze travel up and down her slim body until I locked eyes with hers. “Ready.”
“Awesome.” She twisted the wheel slightly, and a slight hissing noise filled the room.
For the first few moments, nothing happened aside from the hissing of the gas and the Muse's deep breathing. I held my own breath.
When it started, she placed the hand that had been on the canister over her midsection and closed her eyes contentedly. “Ahh...” she sighed, running her hand up and down over her toga. “A belly man to begin with, huh?”
I leaned over, holding my hand out hesitantly. “How does it feel?”
“It feels like what you want me to feel. Thank you, by the way. Sometimes the creator wants it to be painful or frightening. This is like... sitting in a jacuzzi that's so hot you can barely stand it, letting the bubbles run all over you. Except they're on the inside, and it feels amazing.” She opened her eyes to see me standing so close to her, then took my hand and held it against her stomach. I felt it pushing against me softly, her skin slowly but steadily puffing out.
I licked my dry lips before asking, “Could I... see it?”
“Oh! How forgetful of me. Of course you'll want to see this.” She began unwrapping her toga, each layer revealing more and more of her gradual swell until she sat in a rather modern bra and panties with the slight curve of a new belly cresting above the waistband of her underwear. Her midriff bulged not just to the front, but to the sides as well.
“Is this what you want?” she asked, keeping the hose in her mouth while she leaned back on her elbows, slowly but visibly expanding.
“Yes...” I whispered, feeling the familiar stirrings of a thousand crude jpegs.
“Then it'll happen. It's going to happen like you've been imagining it all along, and--oh!” She put a hand on her right breast and cupped it lightly. “Looks like you're getting to the breasts. They always go with the boobs...”
“You said something like that earlier... Have you done this before?” I softly held her other breast and felt the skin starting to press against my fingers.
“A few. I'm not, like, the official patron of wet balloon dreams or anything,” she laughed. “But, this isn't my first time, either. You're holding up well. Your fantasy's a good one.”
“Um... Thanks.” I was having trouble speaking, and I didn't want her to see the tightness of my own crotch.
She sighed again and lay back on the bed, running both hands on either side of the slight mound of her belly. I saw the waistband of her panties beginning to leave an indentation all the way around her. Her sides were growing outwards as well, and I could see her thighs beginning to thicken as the gas built up within then.
“Mmm... Belly, breasts, and now the bottom. You know how to treat a girl.” She winked and rolled onto her belly to better show me what she knew I was thinking of. Her buttocks was swelling larger and larger, causing her panties to shift as her body grew steadily beneath them. I placed a hand on each cheek, then impulsively squeezed and pushed her down into the bed.
“Hey!” she gasped, “Not so rough. Not yet, anyway.” She reached back and took my hand again, then began stroking her growing ass. She moaned quietly and muttered, “Silk on tight skin...” then rolled onto her back again. “Can you see how much bigger I'm getting?”
“How could I miss it?” I said, rubbing her belly with one hand while running the other up and down one engorged thigh. “How much... How much bigger will you get?”
“That's the question, isn't it?” she asked, looking pointedly at me. “The answer to that is another question: How much bigger do you want me to get?”
I probably looked pathetic, trembling slightly as she sat there so confidently with her body still steadily expanding with every passing second. “How much bigger... can you get?”
She rocked back on her swollen glutes, laughing heartily; a true belly laugh. Her body shook and continued to grow as she gulped for breath. “Now you're getting it! You know what's going to happen. You just need to admit it and let it happen instead of acting surprised the entire time. This is your creation!” With that, she reached over and turned the wheel on the canister again, causing the hissing to increase in volume.
As the new rush of gas flowed into her, she reached behind her and undid her bra. Her breasts surged out of their restraints, quickly filling to become quivering orbs that rested on her massive belly.
Even then, it wouldn't be right to call what she now had a belly--the entire lower half of her torso was starting to become a globe of its own, with thighs as large as her entire waist had once been pressing together beneath her to taper down to her otherwise only slightly swollen calves. The straps of her sandals pressed against her skin, leaving a diamond pattern of flesh that curved out of each opening. Her panties were performing admirably, but as her waist expanded in all directions the waistband finally parted ways and the silk slid down her curves to the bed. Her breasts were nearly spherical themselves, but compared to the sheer size of her body they were almost afterthoughts.
As the waistband to the underpants snapped, the Muse shuddered with a pleased groan and dialed the wheel back down to its original rate, then held the hose in one hand and kinked it shut, leaving it trailing into her mouth. “I know what you're looking for, and the hard X rating isn't it. Let me try for a little modesty. Hold this.”
She pressed the kinked hose into my hand and shuffled off of the bed until she could stand on her own feet, facing away from me. Her giant buttocks bulged out to either side of her incredibly wide hips before being enveloped by her now practically spherical torso. With some difficulty, she picked up her toga from the bed and began to wrap it around herself again, making two tight winds about her waist. Before she began to swell, she had been wrapped in over half a dozen folds of loose cloth, but now the material was cinched tightly around her, tucked between her legs almost like a sumo wrestler. She'd apparently given up on trying to contain her breasts, or perhaps she simply needed all the cloth she could just to make it around her hips.
I watched her work, slowly reaching her hands over and around her hugely swollen body, and I looked from her to the kinked hose, still in my hand. As I did, she began to run her fingers up and down what she could reach of her sides, slowly tracing the curve of one massive buttock. I then saw her reflection in the computer monitor: the hose still in her mouth, she was smiling as she watched me in my indecisiveness. She knew what I was thinking. She'd said so several times. Doing this now wouldn't be a betrayal of trust--it would be taking control of the situation, moving from a passive observer to a direct manipulator of what was going on.
I looked straight into the reflections of her eyes and let go of the hose. She nodded and closed her eyes with a smile as the hissing resumed once more.
Her rear end continued to expand, slowly pushing the newly-wrapped toga aside. The bulging flesh to her sides began to strain at her new belt, but she had tied it in such a way that the more pressure her midsection applied, the more snugly it held her.
“Do you know what you've done?” she asked kindly, turning to face me and presenting me with the sight of her whole form, bloated to almost-spherical proportions.
“I've made this mine. My vision.”
“You've made me yours.” she stepped forward again, nuzzling me with her swollen body, then suddenly thrust her hips forward, knocking me backwards onto the bed as she steadied herself from the collision. “I'm not going to pretend that I don't know what you're thinking. And you want this story.”
I was lying on my back, but in another very clear sense I was still standing tall. I shucked my pants as I pulled myself into a sitting position. “I want this to be happening. Not just in my head.”
“Maybe it is real. If it's in your head, you don't know the difference.” She stood before me, curving off in all directions, the globe of her torso pulling against the wrap around her. She reached towards me with both hands, barely able to stretch her arms to either side of her belly. When I took her hands, I pulled her towards me until I was pressing myself totally against her, my head buried between her breasts, cradling her bulk with my entire body.
“Then I'm going to make it happen.”
I stood up, turning slowly and laying her--well, rolling her backwards--onto the bed. Even though she was lying down, her belly rose to the height of my chest. I had to lean over her to look past her breasts and see her face. She smiled brightly and stroked the underside of one massive breast with one hand, the finger of her other trailing the hose that continued pumping whatever supernatural substance she was filling with.
I tugged experimentally at the robe, but I could barely get my fingers between her skin and the cloth. “I need to get you out of this.”
Even though I could only see the top of her head from where I was standing, a rhythmic bounce of her upper body likely meant she was shrugging. “There's more than one way to get a girl out of a dress,” she said.
“That's right. And here's another.” I followed the hose to the gas canister and gave the wheel a firm turn. The hissing intensified, even louder than it had been she had turned it up before. The Muse made a noise halfway between a gasp, a laugh, and a moan, and I could see her beginning to grow ever larger.
Suddenly, her legs clamped around my waist, pinning me between her enormous thighs and holding me tightly against her swollen groin. I gasped myself as my crotch brushed the soft skin of her inner thigh, though the robe still held fast against the assault from within, a few layers of thin cloth between me and my fantasy. I gently rubbed the sides of her legs and hips and heard more quiet moans of pleasure from the other side of the ridiculously inflated woman's belly.
Her body continued to expand, and the material of the robe began to slide down between her legs and her buttocks, becoming the world's largest G-string. Her growth began to push her gigantic thighs aside, as the pressure between them forced her legs apart. With her ankles locked behind my back, she had me caught as the gas caused her thighs and crotch to push against me.
The robe was still a taut band around her equator, a ridge running the full diameter of her massive body. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the knot in the cloth gave with a tearing sound. Her body actually bounced off the bed slightly as the forces within her equalized, and I pulled the robe out from between us. Now that the robe was out of the way, the increased flow of gas was causing her to inflate more quickly, and I pressed myself into her firm yet pillowy form.
“Wait,” she whispered. I saw one hand flail blindly to the side as she pulled the canister towards her and twisted the wheel back, lowering the hiss to a barely audible sibilant. “Slower,” she gasped. “Makes it last longer.”
I knelt on the bed and tried to pull her towards me, one hand on either of her thighs. Her legs clenched again, but the new bulge of her groin between her legs kept them from being able to close around me. I traced myself around her with my eyes closed, feeling an amazing rush of exhilaration, before thrusting myself into her.
Well, almost. When I pushed my hips forward, it only served to push her over the bed, sliding her across the mattress and out of my range. I reflexively rocked forward and back a couple of times in the air before noticing that I had failed to make entry.
I knee-walked closer before trying again, and once more only succeeded in pushing her inflated form away from me. By this time, the Muse had realized what was happening and began bellowing with laughter, her entire body quaking with mirth. She twisted off the bed and actually rolled on the floor, fetching up upside down against the wall, still laughing hysterically.
I jumped off the bed, humiliated, and helped her right herself. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled, my face crimson.
“No... Don't be,” she said, still stifling a guffaw. “Just help me stand.”
I took her hands and pushed her up against the wall until she could get her swollen legs beneath her rounded body. She stood bowlegged, the curve of her torso and groin coming together in a smooth curve between her thighs and meeting her buttocks on the other side. Every part of her, other than her head, neck, hands, and feet, was becoming rounder and rounder, still swelling and inflating where she stood.
She sumo-pushed me slightly with her immense belly. “You get on the bed this time,” she said in a voice the brooked no disobedience. “I'll handle the mechanics.”
Confused, I did as she asked, then took another look at her and tried to see what she was thinking. “How can you make us work? I couldn't even do it!”
“You've gotten me this far,” she said with a smile. “I'm not going to let it end until you're done.”
I watched the Muse waddle towards me, her body rotating back and forth with every step she took. The woman's completely bloated body, hips swaying, belly slowly gyrating, with a hungry look in her eye, was possibly the most sensual approach I had ever witnessed. My erection, which had wilted somewhat in the embarrassment of the situation moments before, once again surged upwards.
She reached the edge of the bed and tipped herself onto her belly, pushing against the floor and rocking into an upright position. She was on her knees, but her thighs were forced far apart and she was really resting on the swollen flesh between her legs. Like someone on crutches, she made a series of short hops from her knees, each time coming back down on her expanded groin. Her breasts heaved with each hop, bouncing up and down, but her belly remained taut and motionless. With one final hop, she landed straddling me, one leg on either side, balanced by her crotch on my legs. I could feel the curve of her enormous buttocks against my shins as she shifted.
“Luckily, you weren't imagining helium,” she said, “so this'll work. I'm going to need some cooperation from you, though.” She winked.
Without saying a word, I lifted my legs, and now she stood on the bed, the massive ball of her body hanging above me, her face hidden behind the curvature of her belly. I reached out and traced a finger along the inside of one hugely swollen thigh, and I heard her giggle girlishly. “Okay,” she said. “I'm coming down. I need you to guide me.”
“Right,” I said, suddenly nervous again. She began to lower herself onto me, the vast swell of her coming closer and closer. I coaxed her bulging body down onto me, and then I was in her.
The feeling was intense and highly sexual in a way that I can only fail spectacularly to describe. I bucked by reflex, almost throwing her off again, and guided her back onto me with a hand on either slightly thickened ankle. We sat there momentarily. I was breathing shallowly, trying to keep myself from blowing too soon but wanting to feel everything of this amazing experience. The Muse gasped and moaned, and instead of trying to ride me or grind against me began to slowly twist back and forth, spinning on me even as she still slowly swelled from the gas passing through the hose.
The sensation was overwhelming, the sheer tightness of her, gripping me softly yet with an incredible firmness. I almost let myself be lost in it, but I knew it could get even stronger. With one hand attempting to hold onto her leg, I reached with my other and found the wheel on the air canister.
The squeak of the wheel and the louder hissing caused her eyes to fly open. Her belly and thighs renewed their growth, and I shuddered as I felt something like being caught in a vice lined with inches of velvet.
“No!” she shouted, reaching out and kinking the hose to cut off the gas invading her. “Think! Remember what's happening to you, and to me, right now. Use those thoughts and those feelings. Keep your eyes open. You can't let yourself get lost in this ecstasy before you know how to describe it.”
I managed to smile weakly, still straining to hold myself back. “I guess... true art does come from suffering.”
She grinned. “True suffering... would be to vanish right now, leaving you alone with the most powerful boner you've ever had and nothing to show for it. No more of this,” and she worked some interior muscle that left me gasping. “You would go back to being just some guy who dreamed he was fucking a balloon with tits.”
“To me honest,” I said, “I was much more interested in your legs and ass instead of your breasts.”
She winked. “I know. I felt it happening. I felt your mind racing, your fantasy coming to life in me.” Another invisible inner tweak accompanied her words 'coming to life.' I tried to remain motionless and caress a bulging thigh, but I groaned against her bulk as her tiniest movements caused subtle changes of friction.
“However...” she trailed off.
“However...?”
“I can tell when you know what you need to know. When you've got what you need in your mind to create your work. When, in fact, I've my purpose here is over.”
“No...” I gasped, running both hands against her belly where it stretched about above me. “You'll leave me if I enjoy it, and you'll leave me if I think about it!? Was this all some incredible cocktease?”
“I didn't say that,” she said. “I can tell when my job is done.” She let go of the hose. “But I love my job,” she continued, against the rising hiss and the intensifying pressure gripping us both, “and I like overtime.”
As we grow older, there are certain things that will always trigger a momentary flash of remembrance, bypassing the thinking mind and directly stimulating that happy place in your mind with the feelings you felt when you first experienced them. The way light falls on a certain patch of carpet on a winter's morning, the smell of something you used to enjoy in your youth... the sound you heard when your deepest, most hidden fantasies came to life.
For me, it was the hiss of a certain gas canister, one I had never heard before nor in the years after that one magical experience. I'm not sure how to describe it in a way that makes sense, but I can try to do it in ways that don't. While it sounded like any normal helium tank, this one had carried in it the sound of purpose, a promise of something great to come. It was like the way a roaring jet of flame inflating the limp shape of a hot air balloon on the ground foretells great round shapes drifting stately through the sky, but smaller, more intense, more personal. I had heard that imposing ethereal hiss occasionally in my dreams, and as time went by the more convinced I became that the very first time I had heard it had been in a dream as well; the events that had transpired that night were too impossible to be real.
So you can imagine my surprise when I heard it again, and the memories and sensations of what had happened came leaping to my mind and spun me around in my chair. It was her. The Muse.
She had come to me one night, an agent of creative forces, to crack my writer's block and allow me to write a piece of inflation fiction that I had been proud of. I'd dabbled in it once or twice afterward, but after that moment of catharsis I had known what I was capable of. While I hadn't done much writing like that since then, knowing that I could do it was more reassuring to me than actually doing it. There's probably something deeply egotistical about that, but there I go, psychoanalyzing myself again.
When I heard the hiss, I was sitting at my computer in much the same way I'd been the first time she appeared. I sat bolt upright and spun my chair around, cracking my knee against the side of my desk but too stunned to do anything but stare. She looked the same to me as I remembered her from years ago, with deep blue eyes set in a thin, smiling face, topped with a mass of thick black hair. The color of her eyes matched that of the stone set in the thin silver necklace around her throat. The Muse was wearing a toga-like wrap, full of intricate folds and dramatic draping swatches of linen. She sat at the foot of my bed, one leg stretched out to the floor and the other held up, knee bent, like a pin-up girl painted on the nose of some sort of ancient Greco-Roman fighter-bomber. One hand held her curled leg, and the other held the end of a hose leading to a silver canister. She squeezed and released the end of the hose quickly, releasing two quick bursts of gas, like a mocking salute.
“I knew that'd catch your attention,” she said, reaching over with her free hand to close the valve on the tank. “Remember me?”
I needed a moment to recover from this woman suddenly appearing in my room, but I had been dreaming of this moment (literally, sometimes) and was quick on the uptake. “I... Well, how could I not?”
“You never forget your first, right?” she asked with a wink. “By which, I mean your first story. I'm not insinuating anything otherwise.”
“Thanks for that.” I sat on the bed next to her and took the hose from her, examining it as I let the memories of this woman's last visit flow past my mind's eye. “Look, what are you doing here? I mean, I'm certainly not complaining, but I haven't been trying and failing to write any inflato-porn lately. I haven't seen you in forever, and I don't think I was sending any SOS signals your way.”
“Well,” she said, “You're wrong about that in three ways. First, you have seen me. You just don't remember.” She leaned in close to me, brushing her breast against my shoulder, and plucked the hose from my unresisting hand.
“Secondly, inspiration doesn't need your permission to strike. It just happens to the right mind at the right time, and Muses like me make sure it happens.” She placed the end of the hose in her mouth and gave he valve on the canister a quick one-two twist, letting a single puff of gas into her body. The sound of the tank and the way her robe shifted subtly around her as her body grew slightly larger somewhere deep within its folds sent lightning-hot bolts down my spine. I was suddenly erect and filled with a powerful desire to see more, remembering the way her body had swelled under my hand as that same gas had distended her form. She chuckled slightly and put one hand on my leg as she removed the hose from her mouth with the other. “See? It just happens. You can't stop it. You can ignore it and let it go to waste, but you can't fight creative inspiration when it comes.”
“Okay. So you're here because I'm destined to write another story?”
“Not quite. The third reason you're wrong is that I'm not here for you. I'm here for her.” She lifted her head to point behind me with her chin.
I turned, surprised, to see another woman lounging indifferently in the computer chair I had just vacated. While my Muse (as I suddenly thought of her) was somewhat dusky, this newcomer was fair, verging on pale. Her blond hair spilled down her back in a loose braid, and her toga was less ornamental and more provocative, with a higher hemline that was almost a skirt and a lower neckline which revealed the swell of her bosom. Where the woman I knew was stately and comforting, the new girl's attitude seemed dismissive, almost insulting, in how casual she appeared to be. She tossed me a brief wave and said “Hey,” with a lack of inflection calculated for maximum carelessness.
“Uh... Hi.” I turned back to the first woman. “You don't need me, but you're here for her? Care to give me any kind of clue what's going on?”
“Perhaps you may have noticed from your internet browsing, but there's more of a following for this particular brand of fantasy than there was a few years ago. With more demand for an idea comes more creation, which requires more inspiration.”
The blond woman got up from the chair and sat on my other side on the bed. “In a nutshell, there are more of you inflationist weirdos out there, and more of us have to start putting thoughts in mortals' heads because of it.”
“I didn't know being a Muse was like that,” I said. “I thought new ones would just appear or something.”
The dark-haired Muse shrugged. “That happens sometimes, but in this case we're shifting the workload around. I don't think we've had a special-purpose Muse of Inflation show up. I'd have heard of her, since she'd become my boss.”
The blonde shook her head. “In any case, now my duties entail getting blown up for the likes of you. Yay.” She spun a finger the air in mock celebration.
I was unconvinced. “You sound like you're not thrilled about the idea. Why not get someone who, I don't know... enjoys the job?” I let my hand sneak a few inches and briefly stroked the darker Muse's leg at that, and she chuckled.
The new Muse shrugged. “I'm not completely uninvolved. I've been an inspirational figure for big-tit fantasies, which would sometimes involve letting them get bigger in real time. So when it came time for someone to 'branch out,' so to speak, I got tapped for the task.”
I gave her a critical look. “You're not exactly huge in the BE area...”
“Well, I'm not going to walk around like that all the time, am I?” she sneered. “I do it because it's the job, and I can't argue with the forces above. Doesn't mean I have to cream myself whenever it happens.”
“It sounds like there's some humiliation fantasy involved in that, too.”
“Stop trying to figure me out, human. You think our minds work like yours?”
I looked over at the raven-haired Muse, who rolled her eyes and patted me on the knee. “Anyway, she is going to be taking on the duties of a full-body inflation Muse, and she needs to be shown the ropes.”
“Or the hoses.” I couldn't resist.
“'Or the hoses!'” the blonde muttered, turning away and crossing her arms. “Oh, for fuck's sake, if this is the caliber of wit we've got to work with--”
“That's enough!” the original Muse cut in sharply. “Let me finish explaining the situation.” She turned to me and took my hands in hers. “I chose you for this because I've been in your fantasies. Your visions are gentle and a good first run for a newcomer to the field.” She then leaned in close and her voice dropped to a confidential whisper. “...Also, I know the way your desires work. You like the girl to enjoy blowing up. If we let your dream be the one that guides us here, maybe she'll stop being such a bitch about this whole thing when she starts to like it.”
I had to smile at that. Certainly, the new Muse wasn't enthusiastic about her new duties. But the dark-haired woman was right; I did enjoy pictures and stories in which the inflatee took pleasure in the act. I could see why she'd turn to me for this.
I nodded. “Okay. So, she's just going to blow up, and I'm going to imagine her blowing up?”
“Pretty much. I'm here to coach her along. You get the idea. Any other questions?”
“Yeah, one more thing. Is there anything I can call you? I don't want to have to call you two 'the original dark-haired one' and 'the new blonde one' forever.”
“Interesting...” she said with a wry smile. “Why do you need a way to tell us apart aside from your eyes? Perhaps we're already having stimulating your creativity? Well, in any case, you can refer to me as Auria, and her as Omastia.”
“Don't look too much into it,” she added. “Surprising as it may sound, we're not all that creative when it comes to naming ourselves.”
“Okay. Why don't you get started, then?”
The second Muse, Omastia, turned back to us and crossed her arms under her breasts. “I don't want to do this with you both just ogling me. How do I know it's safe?”
Auria stood up and picked up the gas canister. With some magic touch, she ran the hose through her hand, and suddenly instead of one hose, she was holding three, joined together at the base.
“I'll tell you what,” she said. “Since this is your first time, I'm not going to make you get really big. We'll put enough in you to get the idea of the experience, so you can feel yourself grow.” She took one of the three hoses she held and offered it to Omastia. “If it makes you feel any better, let's make a deal. I'll take these two hoses, and you take one. That way, I'll be taking in twice as much as you will, and prove to you that it's safe. We can trust this creator's vision; this is what we came to him for. You'll be okay.”
Omastia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at this offer, then took the hose from Auria. “You promise that you'll take in twice as much as I do this whole time?”
“I do.”
“Then let's do it.”
Auria's voice took on a lecturing tone that I'd heard before. “You'll want to hold the hose in your mouth, keeping it out of the way so you can speak. Pinch it up in the side of your cheek to keep it from falling out...”
Omastia was less impressed, and waved away the lesson. “I've done breast expansion before. I know how to use an air hose.”
Auria smiled, then put her two hoses in her own mouth. “All right. Let's loosen our clothing, then, and we can begin.” She disentangled herself from her toga's wrapping in an easy motion, standing before me in a lacy bra and panties that wouldn't look out of place in any shopping mall. Omastia, on the other hand, simply pulled her toga up over her head and tossed it in a heap on the floor before inserting her hose. She, too, was wearing panties, but her breasts were uncovered and swung freely from her chest.
The two Muses stood before me, then, several feet away from each other, with the canister between them. The hoses seemed to be exactly as long as they needed to be at any given moment, some kind of magic to keep them out of the way but not a hassle. Auria smiled and nodded to me. “Maybe you'll want to loosen your own, too. If you'll do the honors... Just a slight flow, to start off with.”
I undid my belt and kicked my pants off, then leaned forward from the bed and turned the wheel on the canister a bit until I heard the first hissings of the escaping gas. Auria closed her eyes and smiled, holding her hands over her midsection and caressing herself lightly. “I think a little more than that is in order.”
Auria sashayed over to me, her hips and thighs swinging hypnotically, already a little bit plumper than they had been mere seconds ago. She moved the canister closer to me, within easy reach, then sat down on my lap. “You're supposed to be looking at her, not me,” she said over her shoulder with a confident smile. She knew how excited this was making me, and though I couldn't see anything of Auria other than her back, she took my hands and guided them up and down her breasts and the beginnings of a belly while we watched Omastia.
The blonde Muse seemed to ignore this interplay between us, and was staring upwards at the ceiling, standing stock-still with her feet apart. At first, there was little change in her appearance, but soon her breasts began to puff up, slowly becoming more spherical.
“She's trained in the ways of Breast Expansion,” Auria said to me. “If you let her control her body's growth, she'll try to put it all in her chest. You're the creator of this vision; don't let it happen. Make her start inflating... somewhere else.” She moved my hands down her torso, to her still-widening hips and along her soft thighs and buttocks that were growing outwards and into me.
It was difficult to concentrate on Omastia, with Auria swelling with every second in my arms and her ass grinding softly yet steadily against my crotch, but I did try. The blonde woman's breasts actually shrank slightly as I mentally directed where the flow of gas was moving within her body. She grunted quietly as her abdomen began to distend with pressure.
It was like playing a movie in my head, or envisioning a story while I read it, with the exception that it was playing out in real time as I thought it. Omastia's stomach slowly pushed outwards, expanding forwards and out to her sides. Her hips thickened along with her buttocks as her waistline began to grow, for the first time making her appear bottom-heavy despite her large breasts. Her bosom hadn't stopped growing after that first brief reduction, however, and her breasts were soon nearly spherical, but still getting bigger. For her part, Omastia was focusing on her own sensations, breathing deeply with her arms held out to her sides, still looking away from me.
“There's more to body inflation than breasts, belly, and butt.” Auria sounded slightly winded, as if she was exerting herself. “But you know that. They're all individual parts, yes, but a full-body balloon woman grows more than in those three areas.”
I could feel Auria shudder slightly in my arms. It was getting more and more of a trial to hold her close as she continued to inflate, and I had to loop one arm around her midsection to keep her from sliding off my lap. Her back was pressing into me as her entire body swelled, and I saw the straps of her bra and the waistband of her panties beginning to dig into her. I let my free hand, the one not holding her to me, slip between her underwear and hip, but she swatted it away. “If you're going to start groping me, at least take my brassiere off. Honestly.”
With it right in front of me, it wasn't as difficult as it could have been, but still, removing a bra with one hand can be a little tricky. The moment I undid the final hook, her bra shot away from me as her breasts were finally unconstrained. Auria leaned back against me and sighed. I looked to the side, into the mirror on my dresser, and saw her rounded body, a seamless curve from crotch to neck with massive breasts. She, too, had her eyes closed, but she was biting her lip and rested one hand on the front of her belly. Her necklace stood out against the skin of her neck. She was even getting slightly taller in my lap as her rear expanded, lifting her up on a inflating cushion of smooth flesh. Her widening body became too much for me to hang onto with my arm, so I hooked one of my legs around hers, drawing her to me with the semi-accidental benefit of squeezing her incredibly pneumatic posterior into my lap. Her soft but resilient backside was driving into me through her clothing, and as tantalizing as the feeling of her skin slowly spreading and stretching against mine was, I knew she was feeling something even stronger.
Obviously, I didn't have to worry about Auria not enjoying the experience, but Omastia's lack of response was something strange. “Shouldn't she be getting something out of this?” I whispered into Auria's ear.
“Gods, yes,” Auria sighed. “I can feel how good you want this to be for us. If she's even half as aroused as I am...” Her eyes fluttered open, then suddenly her gaze hardened.
“Hey!” Auria snapped. “You're not letting yourself learn!” She reached out to the canister and set the flow of gas to the barest trickle. With a slight grunt of effort, she levered her bulk off of me and waddled over to the other Muse. I took a moment to admire the differences between them.
Omastia had grown larger all over, from her swollen breasts with tiny-in-comparison nipples emerging from the center of distended aureola, to the bulging belly, and the new roundness of her hips, thighs, and rear. Still, she had curves that indicated where a waist would go, and she still had a generally feminine shape... even if that female was something from a prehistoric Venus figurine. Aside from the light way she stood, you could have mistaken Omastia for an extremely heavyset woman. Auria, on the other hand, was something that could only come from fantasy. She was far rounder, nearly the same width front-to-back as she was side-to-side. Her breasts were larger, yes, but had moved apart as the flesh between them expanded and were now far less spherical as they merged with her body. Omastia's panties were tight and clung to her curves, but Auria's seemed painted on, with a waistband that still held on gamely against all odds, forming a lace-and-elastic circumference around her. There must have been some enchantment in Auria's underwear, since it seemed that there must have been more fabric to it now than there had been to start off with. Her ass and groin had expanded downwards and outwards as she filled, and while her thighs had at first swelled together, they were pushed apart to make way for the rest of her body. This forced her to stand like some kind of sumo wrestler; feet spread, body lowered.
Auria snapped her fingers in Omastia's face to get her attention. “I know for a fact that you have to be feeling physically stimulated by this,” she began. “And I'm not talking about a brain-chemistry fetish-tweak that assigns pleasure to being blown up. Part of this gas, and part of why we chose this creator for your lesson, was because he makes inflating feel good. Why aren't you letting that experience into your mind?”
Omastia's eyes finally opened, and I suddenly saw the hatred she had for the older Muse. “You can make me feel good, but you can't make me enjoy it,” she nearly spat. “Big boobs, yeah, evolutionary stimulation, blah blah blah. You can't tell me that this sideshow makes a lick of sense, and the guy doing it to you isn't half as creepy as the fact that you're getting off on it!”
Auria shook her head. “You're obviously not accepting the reality of this, but it's our assigned duty. If you're not going to get used to it, you'd better get ready for a long career of forced inflation fantasy. Because I've seen some of them, and they can get nasty.”
I reached out to the canister, still on the bed by me, and turned off the gas. I was uncomfortable with the dark turn this had suddenly taken. “Maybe you should just send her back,” I suggested. “We've inflated her, she knows what it's like. Clearly she can handle it.”
“I suppose so,” Auria agreed. “Well, Omastia? You want to go?”
The blonde Muse almost snarled at this. “I'm not going to be sent home by you. I'll go when we're done, but I do not need your pity for not being as turned on by turning into a parade float as you are.”
Auria thought about this for a moment, then turned back to me. “Maybe we have fulfilled the requirements of the job,” she purred as she approached. It's difficult to imagine that such a waddling gait could be sensual, but the way her thighs and hips worked, sliding against each other and the flesh between, brought back any of my excitement that had been lost during this argument. “But I recall saying before that I appreciate putting in extra effort.”
“Oh, you bitch,” Omastia growled. “You're actually going to screw him right here and make me watch. I can't believe you.”
Auria reached out to me, and I took her hands. I leaned back onto the bed, pulling her up on top of me, her body swollen almost to my chin even though she was sitting on my stomach. She turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cattily. “You can go. But if you do, it won't be with my permission, and you'll hear about that breach of protocol. As for you,” she said to me, “You can start helping me undress the rest of the way. I can't quite reach, myself.” She ran an arm down her belly and hip to show that her waistband was more than an arm's length away.
I hooked my fingers up into her panties and drew them down. “I'd love to get these off you in another way... but I'd feel better if we didn't have to blow you two up any more. Knowing that she hates it kind of kills the mood.”
She laughed and bounced lightly on me. “She doesn't hate the inflation, she hates me for making her do it. This feels so incredible... she's just determined to not give me the satisfaction of admitting it. But, that's okay. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable with this, either.”
I was able to pull her panties down to her hips, and with some tight squeezing and slipping I was able to get them around her thighs and off her. All that sliding and shimmying against her swollen form, raising her up and down against me and slipping my hands all over her body, had the both of us nearly frantic. “Do it,” she whispered breathlessly. “Gods, do it.”
Rushing my hands over her, searching for a handhold, I held her with one colossal thigh in each hand and slid her down until she was where she needed to be. I looked up at her body, curving up in a near ball, breasts swaying, with the top of her flushed face looking down at me. I steadied myself, lifted her slightly... then thrust into her.
The instant I did, she moaned loudly and clenched down on me, quivering with ecstasy. I gasped and held her to me, feeling her tighten, then slack, then tighten again as she gave in to the feelings that had been pumping into her all this time and only now given release. When she finally paused for breath, I heard... a hiss, and felt her growing even firmer against me.
“I thought you didn't want me any bigger,” Auria sighed.
“I... That's not me.” I held up both hands where she could see them.
Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head as far back as she could. “Omastia...?”
I peered around the swollen woman and saw Omastia holding the canister under one arm, with her other hand on the valve wheel. “Having fun?” she asked.
“Omastia! What are you doing!?” shouted Auria.
“You're so into this, Auria? Why don't we see how much is too much?” Omastia's voice shook with rage... or some other repressed emotion. She gave the wheel another tweak, causing the hiss to intensify.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
She replied smoothly, even as her own body was beginning to fill out more and more. “She promised that no matter how much I took, she'd take twice as much, so she can't take those hoses out of her mouth until I say we're done. And I can take much more than this, even for a first time. I know I can.”
I looked up at Auria. “Is that true?”
“Yes. A Muse's promise is a magical bond. I can't remove the hoses. Even if you pulled on them, they wouldn't come out unless her tube was out of her mouth. And did say I'd always take in twice as much as she did...”
Auria's distended form began to inflate even faster. Her thighs and upper arms, already swollen into taut cones, began to widen even further as her entire body grew outwards. Her breasts were losing definition; instead of separate half-domes on her chest, they became rounded protrusions from the globe of her torso. “Nnn... You've got to turn off the gas. I can't make her stop...” She didn't sound in pain, but spoke with great concentration. Suddenly there was a thump from high above me, and she Auria cried out.
“Are you okay!?” I called up to her. I couldn't her head at all now, with the huge swell of her body rising up to block my view.
“I'm... I'm up against the ceiling!” she shouted. “You've got to stop her!” I tried shoving upwards in an attempt to push myself down into the bed and away from her, but was unable to extricate myself from Auria's body.
Omastia laughed nastily. “Got you pinned, huh? Does that turn you on?” Her own shape was bulging mightily, as well, but while Auria was becoming spherical, Omastia was taking more and more of the gas into her belly. Her stomach jutted out from her body to form a ball of its own, reaching from her breasts to her knees. Impossibly wide hips and buttocks still gave her thick thighs, but she was still capable of walking, and her arms weren't being absorbed into her body. “Oh, shit. It does, doesn't it? Gods, I can't do anything to you sickos that you aren't going to enjoy!” She gave the wheel another malicious twist then, blowing them both up even more rapidly.
Auria was pressing down on me harder and harder as she swelled against the ceiling. Her body was an immense sphere, with only the hints of arms and legs and breasts bulging from a ball of taut bronze flesh. Her hands and feet were uninflated and waggled frantically. “Don't worry.” I called up. “You're not going to pop. It's my fantasy, and I won't let you.”
I heard her grunt. “Even the strongest imagination has its limits...” She made some noise in her throat, then continued in a voice that was almost a whisper, “And I'm sorry... but even now this just feels so amazing... Part of me doesn't want to end. If this is how I'm going to go... don't stop touching me.” There was a sudden tinkling snap, and I saw her necklace, now broken by her swollen neck, slide down the slope of her belly to land beside my head.
I thought hard, even as Auria continued to put more and more pressure on my stomach, my legs, my chest. Maybe Omastia would get disgusted with this show and shut it off. Maybe some higher-up Muse would put an end to it. Maybe I'd be killed by a pair of imaginary women in my bedroom in a baffling locked-room crushing death mystery. With no way out, and with, I'll admit, a powerful lust, I resumed stroking her wherever I could. I caressed her inner thighs, the swell of her waist, I even leaned up to lick the underside of her belly, which was received with a shudder and a moan of delight.
I heard distressing creak, but it didn't sound organic or pneumatic. It was almost... metallic? “Oh, gods...” Auria gasped. “Just finish me. Finish me one last time before I go.”
I was nearly enveloped by her growing body, and could barely move myself. I tried rocking up and down, and even the tiny range of motion I was able to make in my position sent thrills of pleasure through her. Her gasping became more rhythmic, more erotic, and the sound of her excited me even more. As much as I could feel the pressure bearing down on me, it was within her body as well, and my every movement was touching nerves that were nearly at their breaking point with the exhilarating effect of the gas. After only a few moments of this, she screamed and wobbled against me in ecstasy, and that thrill and motion of her against me brought me to climax as well. I heard that creaking once again, longer, louder... and the bed collapsed beneath us as the legs snapped under the strain of Auria pressing against the mattress.
I gasped, stunned and surprised from the sudden fall, but saw my chance to move. Auria was still a sphere, expanded beyond all hope of even basic mobility, but with the extra few inches of space I was able to slip out from under her and reach for the canister.
“No!” wailed Omastia as I wrenched the canister out from under her arm. Her belly and groin had merged, bulging away and down from her body. She lay on the floor with her legs wide, as if straddling an overinflated balloon, with her toes barely trailing to the carpet and a large rear rising above her. I turned off the flow of gas, and detached the hose for good measure. The two Muses were still connected by three hoses that merged into one, but now there was nothing connected to the singleton end. I pulled on the hose and one tail emerged from Omastia's mouth, followed shortly by a plop as hoses in Auria's mouth fell to the floor.
“Fuck you, and fuck that bitch, and fuck your cheap Swedish furniture!” Omastia shouted, rocking angrily on her belly. Her face was flushed with anger and with what I knew to be the lust caused by my vision's gas. Even as attractively inflated as she was, nothing could have made me aroused by her once I saw the naked hatred on her face.
“Auria, are you okay?” I asked.
There was a brief pause. “I... Yes. You stopped her?”
“Yeah.” I looked at the two women; one incredibly bloated, and other a massive sphere, both gone to immobility. “How do we fix you two?”
“Nothing a good knife to the heart won't fix,” muttered Omastia, but I was listening for Auria. “I-I don't have the charm to revert to my original form. I always have it with me, but it's not here...!”
“Did you bring it here?” I looked around in Auria's robe on the floor, then in Omastia's robe in case she had taken it. Auria began to panic, saying that she always had it, it had been there, now it was gone...
I pushed her gently aside and found the remains of her necklace on the mattress. I tenderly rolled her forward until her face was level with mine and showed it to her. “Is this it?”
Auria's head had almost sunken to the sphere of her body, and even her cheeks were slightly puffy, but she smiled broadly at the sight of her lost necklace. “Oh, yes, thank you! If I didn't have that, I'd have been stuck like this until somebody noticed us missing!” There were tears of relief in her eyes. “If it's broken, just hold it around my neck and I can do the reversion enchantment.”
I lifted her hair from the back of Auria's neck to hold the necklace in one hand, then leaned in close to kiss her while I caressed her body with my free fingers. After long seconds, I let her go, and when she smiled, I think the tears were somewhat different.
She said a quick incantation in a language I didn't understand, too fast and low to catch even if I had. Her body began to deflate smoothly, her massive curves shrinking down to the way they had been when she appeared. As she did, she had to step forward and lean into me as she went from “lying” on her belly to standing on her own feet again.
“Hello, legs,” she said, wiggling her toes. She turned and glared down at Omastia, who was still inflated on the floor.
“Well?” Omastia asked bitterly. “I guess it's me next, huh?”
“No,” Auria replied. “We've got to take you back to prove how well you passed this first inflation. Clearly you can take it.” She reached out and gave Omastia's swollen bottom a firm smack, which made the blonde Muse squawk indignantly. “What with paperwork and all, it might be a few days before you get out of this shape. Now say thank you to the nice man for this opportunity and you can go.”
“Fffffuuuuuuuu------” Omastia's curse trailed out as she vanished into thin air with a faint bluish glow.
“Well...” I said. “That was interesting.”
“That's certainly one word for it.”
“What's going to happen to her?”
Auria shrugged. “I can see she's got the physical resilience, but she's not cut out for body inflation, that's obvious. I'm sure we can find her a better niche in the inspiration-providing department.”
“Maybe there's a run on self-hating masochists seeking to be belittled by inflating dominatrices?”
“Now there's an idea...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That's not big enough for a whole patron spirit, but maybe that can get worked into something else she likes. I know she was horrible here, to us, but you can't be a Muse without having the ability and the drive to see people succeed in some fashion.”
There was something that had been bothering me, and now was as good enough a time as any to ask about it. “So... She was taking in half as much gas as you, right? But if her volume is half of yours, you still wouldn't have been that much bigger than she was by the end, given that volume was increasing linearly, so diameter would increase logarithmically...”
Auria punched my lightly in the shoulder and grinned. “You're thinking about it too much. Twice as much air, twice as big. Fantasy means not having to be right all the time about everything.” She lazily draped her robe over her shoulder as she spoke, and went to pick up Omastia's fallen robe and the gas canister. “Oh... I just had another couple of thoughts.”
“What's that?”
“Well, first, we're going to have to revisit what we've learned here in a more controlled environment.”
“Something with higher ceilings, maybe.”
“Right.”
“And the second?”
She smiled shyly. “Well, there aren't any male Muses, and there are a number of female writers who need inspiration... to have themselves inflated. Instead of dressing ourselves in drag, maybe we could consider doing a little mental outsourcing?”
I thought about that, then smiled. “Are you thinking of putting some pen to papyrus anytime soon?”
She laughed. “Maybe, but some gifts deserve to be shared.” She gave me a quick hug and looked into my eyes. “Until next time.”
“Make it a promise.”
She chuckled, then leaned forward to put her mouth to my ear. As she faded from view, I heard her whisper softly, “Sssssss...”
The story of how I got here is kind of a crazy one, but I've talked about it before. Those of you who are curious about my backstory can find it easily enough, I'm sure. Without having to slow down to go into too much detail, I'll just say that I've ended up as a sort-of hire-on for a metaphysical idea agency, helping potential artists come to those first thoughts that spark creativity for future works.
Okay, that's a little too broad. Suffice to say, the old Muses, that is, the spirits of inspiration so sought after by the ancient Greeks and Romans, are still around and doing their jobs. While they mostly take the forms of dreams or "random" thoughts or fortune cookie papers, sometimes they want to get a little more hands-on in their approach, and they appear directly before the creators they are meant to inspire. That's where I come in.
You see, the Muses are by and large female (sometimes both bi and large, as well), and once in a while it comes to pass that a certain mind is deemed to be better influenced by a male apparition instead of a female one. In those cases, I'm told that men get subcontracted in to appear in spirit to these creators. I haven't met any others, but apparently it's not all that uncommon, and tradition is really the only thing that keeps the Muses from branching out into a fully co-ed service. Not that I'm complaining!
Of course, part of what got me pressed into service is the particularly small niche that my creativity seemed to blossom in: inflation fantasy. I know, it's weird and downright perverse to a lot of people, but as long as it's imaginary and nobody gets hurt... The thought of being able to help budding authors come to grips with the idea of blowing up filled me with an erotic thrill, and I couldn't refuse the offer when it had come to me. Until just now, I'd never actually been called upon in any capacity. I have to say, I'd expected better preparation.
I had been settling down for a longish night of gaming in front of my computer screen when I heard a peculiar, faint noise coming from behind me. The singular harmonics of this sound, a low hiss of gas escaping from a hose, reached deep down inside me and triggered memories that I had thought had only appeared in my imagination. It all came flooding back to me: Auria, the elastic-bodied Muse who had appeared to me and unlimbered my mind as well as my libido.
Given the events of the previous times I had seen her, I had to take a deep breath before swivelling my chair around. She was as I'd seen her before, clad in a voluminous white toga, her dark hair held back by a sort of wreath or tiara of greenery. She was sitting on my bed with her legs crossed, with a gas canister standing on the floor beside her.
"Good to see I've got your attention," she smiled.
I tried to play it a little more coolly than before, but the sudden appearance of one's sexual fantasy in one's bedroom has a bad effect on attempts to be suave. "I didn't think I merited another visit from you. Not after last time."
She shrugged, one dusky shoulder popping from the folds of her robe briefly. "Don't you worry about last time. In fact, that's why I'm here." That was a little worrisome. The previous time we'd met, Auria had used me to try to get another Muse into her line of work, but the new girl had had a chip on her shoulder even larger than the belly she had ended up sporting. I hadn't seen either of them since... except in my deepest fantasies, where Auria's globular body pressed down on me harder and harder as she filled with an obscene amount of mystical gas. But, despite the mindblowing sex, the danger of the situation was something of a turnoff to me, and I had counted my blessings in not having to repeat the experience. Still, there had been something more to her visit than just getting me to write. "Do you remember that little job offer I gave you?"
"To do your job for you and help other writers think up balloon sex? Doesn't ring any bells."
She laughed. "Yes, that's the one. Let's just say your time has come."
"What, right now?"
Auria smiled again and tossed me something bulky and white. "Sure. Here, put this on."
I clumsily unfolded the object, which eventually turned out to be a set of togs similar to hers, a toga complete with a little golden leaf-pattern circlet and a pair of leather sandals. "Seriously? Just like that? What if I have things to do tonight?"
She responded with a mocking smile "Okay, there are a few things wrong with that. First, I know you're not doing anything. XCom is just going to have to save the world without you. Second, you'll be gone for no time at all. This is more of a spiritual journey."
I frowned. "Wait, so I'm not actually going anywhere?"
"Right. We'll just borrow your intelligence and have an astral projection to where you need to be. It'll feel real, but you'll be right here the entire time, and when you're done you'll come back to this place."
"So why make me wear this stuff? Can't you just, I don't know, spirit these clothes onto me if I'm not really going to be there?"
"It's easier for you to believe you're wearing something if you're actually wearing it. Stop making this so hard!"
I sat down on the bed beside her and began undoing my pants. "I could say the same to you--" I began in my smoothest voice (which, admittedly, isn't all that smooth), but she laughed and slapped my shoulder.
"Save it for the client, Casanova. Maybe if you're still up for it later there will be time for fun, but there's a task at hand."
"Yeah, okay, about that. I don't know the first thing about actually doing what it is you expect me to do."
Auria gave me an appraising look. "Good, you're asking questions. Don't worry, you're not going to go in completely without answers. Let's get you suited up first."
After some confusing moments with the toga, I was dressed as well as could be expected for a 21st-century guy in a zeroth-century outfit. "All right, now what?"
She tugged at my toga to straighten an errant fold, then smiled. "Now, I teach you." The walls faded to insubstantial shadows--or maybe we did while the walls stayed the same--and things changed.
After what felt like several hours, I appeared in the bedroom of a woman that would be my first human demonstration of power. She had an empty text document open before her while she toyed with a lock of her brown hair. From the way she kept opening her email, checking Facebook, and all the other little time-passing tricks, I guessed that she'd been in this posture for a while. I'd been there myself, telling myself that I was going to write and frittering the time away with meaningless checkups, until ultimately having to resign that night's effort was for nothing. Well, hopefully this night would be something different.
I cleared my throat softly from across the room while allowing myself to fade slightly into visibility. I'd been given a small suite of mythic powers for my deputy-Muse duties, including teleportation, invisibility, and elasticity, as well as the ability to pass these powers on as need be. When the woman didn't react, I said “Ahem” slightly louder. I didn't want to completely freak her out right off that bat, but can you really expect to know how people will react when being granted a divine visitation?
She reacted far more quickly than I would have thought. Her head snapped around, and within an instant an empty tea bottle that had been on her desk whirred through my head and smashed into the wall behind me. Good thing I'd remained incorporeal at the time, or else that surely would have done some damage... and being knocked out within the first minute of my first Musing mission would have gone very poorly for me.
That didn't stop me from flinching and flailing stupidly for a moment before recovering my senses. Already the woman already had a second bottle in her hand, waiting to strike, but my ghostlike shimmer was causing some confusion. "What... What are you?" she asked, eyes narrowed.
"I'm glad you asked," I said. I'd had something rehearsed for this situation, but at the necessary moment, the words escaped and I just went with my gut. I hefted my standard-issue air canister in one hand and pointed towards her computer screen with the other. "In a nutshell, I'm here to help you get into the mindset you need to create what you want to create."
She sat bolt upright and flushed. "I-I don't know what you're talking about!" she stammered. In response, I approached her slowly and took a seat on her bed near her--comfortably out of reach, but close enough for a companionable chat.
"Do I need to type in some web addresses? See if you have accounts on a site or two? Maybe browse your favorites list on that secondary DeviantArt account you keep, just to yourself?" I was only guessing here, but some of that struck a chord with the woman, and she ran a hand through her hair and gulped nervously.
"Do you mean... You're here to...?"
"I'm here because you want to write about what it's like to be big. Very big. And I'm here to let you feel what it is you'll be writing."
She cleared her throat once, twice, before casting a longing glance at the canister I held. "You're here for me? Why?"
I smiled and leaned back. I knew she would be willing; she just had to know that it was fantasy. "Because some ideas need a kick to get going. Think of me as your Muse."
She kept looking from me to the canister as I explained the basic function of the Muse. At least, as well as I understood it, both from what I already knew and from the brief introductory course I had undergone in Auria's realm. Was what we did really real? It certainly felt real, which could be all the argument one needed from a subjective sort of view. Being a semi-mythological being tended to give one a very pointed opinion on the Plato's Cave metaphor, I'd noticed. Suffice it to say, I left out the part about me not actually being a real Muse, but I did tell her that this would be a first time for both of us.
Once the shock of the situation wore off, the woman seemed almost eager to try it, but held back. "You can blow me up. You can put me back, right? I'm not going to pop or be stuck like that, or anything?"
"Not at all. This is going to be for you. You guide the experience. I'm just here to make it... a little less of a mental exercise."
Almost hesitantly, she reached out to touch the canister, then me. "You're really here, and you can really do this, and you know that I want it." She took a deep breath, and her voice steadied. "Let's do it."
"Perhaps you would like to change into something a little more comfortable before we get started?" I asked. She was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a baggy T-shirt; suitable clothing for writing, I knew, but even with the slight elastic magic I could impart, they wouldn't hold up well. After a few minutes of indecision in the closet, she eventually emerged in a pair of slightly loose tan yoga pants and a men's white button-up shirt. "No underwear," she said, sitting on her bed, "but that's not going to be a problem, is it?"
"Not for long," I agreed. "First, this might be personal, but how would you like to take your gas?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, where do you want it to go in? The body has a number of different entry points: mouth, belly button, er... lower..." I guestured.
"Belly button," she answered hastily. "If you can use that, I'd like it."
"All right," I said. "With the belly, the gas is going to naturally concentrate in your midsection. You'll be able to spread it about as you grow, of course, but if you don't keep an eye on it, you'll get pudgy pretty fast."
"Are there differences between the different places?" she asked.
Again, my Musing crash-course came to the rescue. "It turns out, yes. At least, in the mind of the inflatee--that's you--the body tends to expand more in a localized area about the gas's entry point. In the case of the mouth, it goes to the chest, the belly button, into the midsection..."
"And if I wanted it up my ass, it would go straight there." She seemed a little amused by this logic.
"Got it." However, instead of connecting the canister I had to her, I reached into the hammerspace (personal dimensional cache, for the uninitiated) I'd created under her bed and pulled out an old-timey bicycle pump. The hose was metallic and strong, though, and I reached under her shirt to plug the end into her belly button. I noticed that she was already quivering at my touch, and when the hose made its connection, she drew a sharp breath and gripped her bed tightly.
"What's with the pump?" she asked. "Aren't you going to turn on the canister and let me blow up?"
"There are two reasons why we're going to go with the bike pump," I explained. "First, we're going to take this very slowly, so you can get a clear mental image of what's happening at every step. This is so you can remember it for the future, right?"
"Okay," she nodded. "And the other reason?"
"Because you're not mystical, we've got to slowly pump you so that your body acclimates to having pressure inside of it." I was glad Auria had taught me a suitable metaphor for this, for I'd never had to see her do it. "The first time you inflate, your body doesn't know what to do. It's like you're a rubber balloon being blown up for the first time. The very first time you try to blow it up, there's a point where the rubber resists before it begins to stretch. Your body is going to do that, so by using the pump we avoid going too fast."
"You said 'the first time'?" she asked. "Will this happen again?"
"Nope. If you ever end up inflating magically again, your metaphysical 'skin' will already know that it should stretch, and so you only need to go through this once."
"No," she said, "I mean, will you come and blow me up again after this?" There was a touch of breathlessness to her voice.
"I don't know. I guess it depends on how well you take to this first lesson. Are you ready?"
"Wait!" she said, her hands clamping down on her belly. At first I thought she was trying to pull the hose out of herself, but then I realized that she was unbuttoning her shirt and then rebuttoning it around the hose, so that it would stick out between a gap in the buttons instead of snaking underneath.
"Oh, there's one more question before we start." I flicked a small switch on the pump a couple of times for emphasis. "Do you want to float, or not?"
She paused. "You can make me float?"
"Yup. Your choice, but you should decide before I start pumping anything into you. Do you want to be heavier than air or floaty?"
Her eyes glazed over slightly, and she swallowed before answering. "I want to be a real balloon. Make me lighter." She lay back on the bed and arched her back, waiting.
I nodded, set the pump accordingly, and pumped the first small burst of gas into her.
"I feel it!" she gasped, holding her hands over her belly, where the hose trailed between her shirt and into her body.
"What's it like? Is it too hot? Too cold?"
"N-No... It's good. I just... keep going!"
"I'm asking because you need to know how to convey what you're feeling now. Give me a stream-of-thought while I'm pumping you up." I drew up on the handle and sent another slow wave of gas into her.
"I feel my belly... it's tighter, kind of. The air's in me." She poked at her midsection, and ran her hands up and down her body. "I can feel the air under my hands. I can move it around a little..."
Another pump, and she pushed a bubble up and down her side with her hand.
"Guide that air into your body. Let it fill you up. You can send it into the other parts of your body if you want."
With the next pump, she gently nudged a bubble up herself until it reached her breasts. "Oh! Now my breast is tighter, too, a little. The air's in there."
I continued to pump her slowly, letting her push the bubbles to and fro across her midsection to end up in her breasts, her thighs, her buttocks. "Now, for the next few pumps, don't use your hands. Tell your body where it's going to get bigger, even as the gas is coming into it. All the while, keep telling me what you're feeling."
"I can feel the gas in me... I don't feel bad. The air is under my skin, getting puffier. I feel tension, but my body isn't tense. I'm sending it into my breasts... They're larger now. I can feel them tugging on the shirt a little, when they weren't before. My pants are tighter. I know my ass is bigger, and I think my legs are thicker now?"
"They are," I confirmed. "The gas is going to fill your available space before you start to stretch."
She nodded and ran one hand under the waistband of her yoga pants feeling the resistance of the elastic before letting it snap down with a hollow donk. "That's new," she said. "It must be because I'm... emptier now. I have more room in me."
I continued to pump, urging her to continue to describe the feelings she was having. When she did, her voice was huskier, breathier, as if the very act of describing what was happening was stirring her as much as the feelings of pressure within her.
"The air's getting harder to move around without my hands," she reported. "It's going into my middle. I feel it getting tighter against my shirt, and my breasts aren't lying flat anymore." Sure enough, her shirt was beginning to put up some resistance against her swelling midsection, and now I could clearly see the hose where it entered her as her body tried to pull the shirt open. It was nowhere near straining yet, but she was noticeably bigger than before, in every way.Her pants clung to her swollen hips and thighs, the stretchy fabric easily taking in her growing lower body. Seeing the waistband slowly creeping down her rounding belly reminded me of watching Auria's body as she had swelled, but I knew this was different. For one thing, despite my own growing excitement, this inflation was far, far, slower, and it wasn't for my benefit.
"Okay, now stop directing the gas. Let it go where it wants, but keep in mind what's happening to you." I slowed down the pumps, but tried to retain a smooth rhythm.
"I... The air is bunching up in my midsection." She ran her hands over her newly-rounded body as she described each area. "It's not just my belly, but out to the sides, too. My waistband feels much tighter. My back... I can't feel the small of my back going in anymore. There's just my ass, oh god it's round and full, and then my skin curves out. My breasts are almost totally round now, and I'm starting to feel tight all over.
"The air's in my belly, and I'm getting bigger, pushing against my clothes... No, that's not my clothes. My skin isn't pushing out any further, and I feel... just tighter. There isn't any more room for this air." She finally started to sound concerned, as she realized that I was showing no sign of relenting my slow pumping. "I'm filling up! No, I'm full! I'm full, you can stop!" She was hardly full. She was puffy, but she hadn't truly begun to stretch. But there was no way for her to know this; after all, she'd only ever imagined this could happen.
I did stop pumping, though, and ran my hand over her inflated body. She moaned slightly at my touch, then grabbed my hand. "Thank you for showing me this. I feel so much bigger." Her belly pushed against her shirt, and now a band of her skin was visible between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband of her pants as the it rode up her body.
I pressed down on her belly, causing her to squeal while the gas within her was pushed to her extremities. "You remember what I said about the balloon, right? You aren't inflating yet. Your body's still pushing back before you can expand." I pulled my hand free of hers and disconnected the hose from the bicycle pump, then connected the same hose, still planted in her belly, to the the gas canister.
"No," she whispered. "You promised I wouldn't pop. You--"
I turned the wheel on the canister, letting a slow but steady flow of bouyant gas into her. Without having to manually pump her up, I could help her more directly, and I took her hands again, holding them against her belly.
"You're not going to pop. You're going to get bigger. Repeat that with me."
"I'm not going to p-p-pop... I'm g-going to get b-b-bigger..." she stumbled, as the gas continued to well up within her body.
"You aren't even floating yet. You're nowhere near big enough to pop."
"I still n-need to float... Not gonna pop..." She closed her eyes and shivered as the pressure continued to mount. Her belly groaned, and her breasts quivered, but her skin remained smooth and unblemished.
After just a few more seconds of this buildup (which must have felt like an eternity to her), her body began to swell again, her belly forcing its way to stretch her shirt as far as it could even as her butt and legs grew even larger. A familiar low-pitched whooshing noise filled the room: the sound of a helium balloon beginning to inflate, but magnified and much, much deeper.
Her eyes snapped open, and she cried out once. "I'm growing again! My body..."
I ran her hands over her belly and hips, caressing them with my own hands. "Now you're starting to swell up. Your body's reached that point where it stops resisting, and now you're expanding for real."
"Oh... It was so powerful," she groaned. "And you say I never have to go through that again?"
"Well, not from Muses," I admitted.
"That might be a shame," she said. "I think... I came a little, right at the end there."
"I wouldn't be surprised," I said, "but there's still time."
Still, that frank admission of release was new to me. I did let my hands wander over her lower body for a few seconds as the gas continue to work its way inside her. Her newly-rounded hips and thighs were still soft and smooth, and the yoga pants cling gamely to her new curves along her rear and across her groin, which was beginning to push outwards as her lower torso met her belly.
"Help me up," she said. "I want to see myself." I pulled her upright and helped her stand, where she took a pose in front of the full-length mirror in her room. Her breasts bobbled up beneath her shirt, and she grinned. "See? Parts of me are lighter already." She hopped up and down slightly, watching her breasts bounce while her midsection shimmied slightly. Her shirt was stretched tight across her body now, both as her breasts and her belly continued to grow within it. The lower part of her shirt in particular was strained across her midsection as she swelled out to the sides and back, but the buttons were hanging in there, keeping the garment closed.
"Tell me what you're feeling." I said, getting her back on track.
She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment longer, then wrapped her arms about herself. "That tightness from before is gone, but I feel pressure on my waist, and around my chest. My skin feels more sensitive, I think because I'm actually stretching now. I feel... bigger, but not clumsier or slower."
"That pressure's probably just your clothing," I said, trailing a finger around the waistline of her amazingly stretchy pants and then tapping her shirt. "You're still getting going to bigger, if you want to."
"Of course I want to!" she sighed. "You couldn't stop me now, could you? Not after what happened on the bed? And, besides, you said I could fly!"
"I said you could float. If you think you're getting out of this room, you're crazy."
"Crazy enough to find this incredibly stirring. But, you knew that, right? You wouldn't even have come to do to this to me if I didn't."
"Uh... Let's get back to focusing on your impressions. Remember how this all feels, as your body fills."
She sighed and closed her eyes, crossing her arms under her breasts and letting them rest on the new pillow of her belly. "Right now... I feel like things are slowing down. I know I'm still getting bigger, but the pressure and the tension are subsiding. I still feel a fullness, but my skin feels softer, not as severe as before."
"Okay, you're entering a safe stretch," I said, drawing on the specialized vocabulary Auria had drilled into me.
"Pun intended?" She cocked her head, brown hair spilling onto her shoulder.
"Very much so, more's the pity. But what I mean is now that your body's begun to expand, you've passed a safe milestone and you can relax for a bit."
"I don't want to relax! I want to feel a thrill! I want to float!" She bobbed on her toes again, and her breasts almost broke free from the shirt now. "Don't tell me that this gets actually dull once I start getting big!"
"Hardly!" I said, with all the experience of having watched this being done a mere two times. "We're taking it slow because this is your first time, remember? At this point in most fantasies, the inflation actually increases until something happens."
"That's the problem," she said. "My fantasy involves getting bigger, faster. I want to feel that pressure again. I want dramatic change!"
"Careful," I said. "Don't get all adrenaline junkie on me now. Besides, from the looks of things you're about to cross another line fairly soon."
"Is it taking these constrictive clothes off?" She leaned forward and squeezed her breasts between her arms, causing them to strain at the already-stricken shirt enough that a button popped loose.
"Oh!" she gasped, "That felt... liberating. Being able to break free, that sudden release... It's kind of like that first stretch again."
"At least, in the stories, that's how it goes, right?" I nodded. "The clothing has to come off sometime. If you want, I can take it off for you, or..."
"No! I want to bust out of them." She sat back on the bed. "How long is it going to take?"
"Well, you're already pretty big. But usually the growth is faster at this point. I could turn up the pressure..."
"Yes!" she exclaimed, almost hungrily.
"In return, though, you need to get back into the zone. Remember what's happening. Relax, and feel your body swelling."
She lay back down on the bed, the new curves of her body resting comfortably. The waistband of her yoga pants, still being driven downwards as her belly and sides grew, gave her the impression of a comparative waist, and her hips, ass, and thighs flared out cartoonishly below it. Above, the shirt was taut against her belly and sides, and an escaping glimpse of breast peeked from the broken button near the top. "I feel... tight, but not dangerously so. I'm constrained, and I can get bigger if I can get free."
"How's your skin?" I asked, tapping the rising crown of her belly with a finger. Even lying down, her body was a good yard high.
"Still... Mmm... Soft and sensitive. Do that again." I obliged, and she laughed at the dull bwom sound that resonated through her.
"All right. I'm going to turn it up. Get ready." She bit her lip and nodded. I opened the valve on the canister a bit more, increasing the gas's flow into her.
She sighed contentedly and rubbed at her belly. Soon she began to rub herself faster and faster. "The pressure's building again..." she said. "I can still be bigger, but first... I've got to get out of this!" Her breasts burst forth, popping two buttons at once with a staccato ripping sound. She gasped with pleasure as her flesh heaved to, straining against her shirt. The rising swell of her was getting visibly larger, pushing at the final few threads keeping her from being free.
"It's tight... but I can be bigger." she whispered. Sure enough, the shirt finally gave in, the buttons tearing off one after another as she lay, a triumphant mound of woman in her tan stretch pants and the remains of a white shirt.
"What about the pants?" I asked.
"Can I get them off?" she panted. "I can't see." The curve of her oversized belly was preventing her from seeing below her waist, where the spandex seemed laminated to every curve of her lower half.
"I don't know," I said. "Whichever brand you bought, you really picked a winner."
"Just get them off of me," she said. "I want to be free to grow, and they're so tight..."
Even as her body continued to blow up with the increased gas flow, I knew that ripping these pants might be more trouble than it was worth, so I climbed on top of her bed and straddled her legs. I found a handhold on either side of her massively flaring hips and tugged downwards, but the swell of her immense rear kept me from pulling them off.
"I need to flip you over to do this," I said, and slowly rolled her onto her side and then onto her front. She bit her lip and grunted as she took her weight on the gas-filled pillow of her belly, and the globes of her now-immense rear rose up before me. I hooked my thumbs into her waistband on either side, then hauled her towards me, shoving against her to pull her pants down. Every inch of the clothing's movement was accompanied by her swelling ass pressing closer and closer to me, as her own body pressure worked to help me peel the pants away from what was becoming a smooth expanse of cheek and thigh. At one spot, the flare of her hips was even wider than her waist had been, and I struggled with the stubborn clothing. How had this thing stayed intact?
My tugging had had a second effect on her, however. As I pulled, she rocked back and forth on her stomach, and when I began to work her faster, she gasped and tried to slip a hand down below her belly, but was unable to reach. She contented herself with playing with her sides, running her fingers along her hips and across as much of her rear as she could manage.
"This feels so good," she moaned. "The pressure is sliding down my legs, and I can feel my ass growing again, now that it's out of there." Her cheeks were expanding more rapidly, taking on gas and forcing her thighs to press against each other tightly as the pants held her legs together around her knees. I was going to make another go at pulling, but she waived a hand for me to stop. "Leave it there. I like the way my thighs are mashing together, against each other and into my crotch. It just feels so... electric."
I rolled her over again and pulled her into a sitting position, her hugely inflated belly riding against her swollen thighs, her bottom another pair of exaggetated curves below that. Her back was bulging out behind her head, rounding out her entire upper body. Obviously her front was stretched out much more than her back, but she was thicker all around, and her waist was rapidly becoming more of an equator to envelop her hips.
"Keep thinking about how it feels." I said. "Is there anything else I can do?" Instead of responding directly, she closed her eyes and nodded, driving her chin between her massive breasts and setting them to bouncing. Her hands remained busily stroking at the sides of her immense body, and she seemed to be shaking with excitement.
After a few moments of this, her body still slowly inflating, she looked over to me and smiled. "I feel lighter. The sense of pressure on my ass is getting less, even though I know it's still getting bigger, and I know why. It's because I don't weigh as much!"
I nodded. "You're starting to float."
"I'm starting to float." She sighed and leaned forward as much as she could, pressing against her belly and holding herself tightly. "Hurry. Speed it up. I want this so bad right now."
I gave the canister another twist, and the rate of flow into her increased once more.
"Yessss..." she hissed, and she began to slowly rock against herself. Each time she pulled back, her belly was slightly larger, further restricting her movements.
"I can feel it," she whispered. "There's so little weight to me. It's just this incredible feeling of fullness and my skin is so sensitive." I placed my hand on her belly, near the hose, and she shuddered with pleasure.
Her voice was low and fast, almost like a mantra or a woman in a dream. "I'm going to float. It's coming. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, like when you're going up a roller coaster and about to drop. It's building up so much inside me and I just can't stand it and--"
Her belly began to waver, and she slowly rose up off the bed. She gasped and lay backwards, twisting her hips as her rear lost contact with the sheets. Her calves and knees were still effectively held fast by her pants, and her hugely bulging thighs ground together, the globes of her ass working against each other. Her feet trailed against the bed for a moment, for she was obviously being lifted by her belly and her legs were still the heaviest part of her, but in a moment even they had risen up off the bed and she was rising up into the air.
I caught her by the ankles and towed her more towards the center of the room, then tugged her downwards and took a hold of the hose. She rolled in the air to face downwards, tethered by the hose to the canister, her almost spherical belly and torso meeting with her hips and ass in a series of smooth, flawless orbs.
"I'm floating... I'm floating..." she moaned, her head back and her face flushed. She seemed lost in the throes of passion, and from the way she had been waiting for this very moment, I wasn't surprised. I teased my other hand along the curve of her belly, out of her reach, starting between her breasts and tracing down to the hose, then further along to where her thighs pressed in a firm grip of inflated flesh. Somewhere between them, her body must have been swollen mightily as well, but with her pants forcing her legs tightly together by her knees, there must have been an incredible amount of pressure there between the inflation of her thighs, her belly, and her groin. For a moment I considered thrusting my hand up and finding the spot that was giving her so much pleasure as her body pressed itself into her more delicate areas.
But, no. Unless she asked, I wouldn't take liberty with her like that. After all, this was to be her fantasy, and she could stimulate herself all she liked. With her mind, at least, since she obviously couldn't reach there with arms.
Eventually, even the thrill of floating must have worn down slightly, and she tapped against her belly with one hand to create a series of kettle-drum booms. "Stop," she commanded. "Turn it off. I... I'm big enough now."
"Are you sure?" I asked, squeezing a breast slightly. "There's still some give in your body. You could be bigger." Still, I stopped fondling her long enough to turn off the flow of gas, but kept holding on to the hose.
"Yeah," she replied. "It felt... feels so amazing, but I don't want to strain myself. Being big and soft is better than drum-tight, I think." She sighed, laying her head down on the curve of her body, and let her arms dangle. "I'm finally a balloon, and it's so good. I can't get lost in it." Funnily enough, I hadn't had that degree of self-control in my first inflation session with the Muses, and I hadn't even been the one blowing up. I was impressed by her
"What are you thinking of?" I asked, tugging on the hose to let her bob in the air. She giggled slightly.
"I have to put this into words. I know that I was probably repeating myself a lot while it was happening, and I need to do better than that to make it worth reading."
"You'd be surprised," I said. "An honest, natural-sounding voice is much more immersive than a thesaurus for 'big.' Just stay away from fruit and sporting goods and I think you'll do okay."
"I'm still not quite over it. It really happened. I'm so huge, and round, and it all really happened."
"Try to remember that." I reassured her. "It's going to feel like a dream later. A fantastic dream, and you'll tell yourself that it was impossible. But, hold on to how you feel, dream or not, and keep it in your mind."
I set the gas canister to its last setting--a harmless anesthetic-- and let it slowly feed into her, so slowly that its passage was silent. Within a few short moments, she fell asleep even as she grew a tiny bit bigger, lolling in the air as contentedly as a cloud given feminine form.
It was a fairly quick task to guide her over to the bed and gently deflate her, using the hose's valve to magically suck every trace of the gases from her body. I repaired her shirt with a touch and tossed it into the closet, but left her pants around her knees and covered her with her blanket. Even though she had changed her clothes, the restored shirt would contradict her memory of the event, giving the whole experience an even more dreamlike feel when she woke up.
I gave the room one more look and set everything back to the way I remembered it being when I first arrived, then said the spell to take me back to the etherial plane where the Muses made their home.
"A good first run," Auria said when I returned to the cloud-enveiled room that she had made her office. "Very polite, very professional."
"It helped that she didn't want me to be really dominating during the whole thing," I said. "I'm not sure I could have gotten into that."
"The point isn't for you to get into it," she replied harshly. "It's for her, and you'll do as she likes. That's the point. Still, though, it's nice that you enjoyed it."
"I did," I agreed, "though I'm not sure I have it in me to do it very often."
"Maybe you won't need to," Auria said. "We'll watch how this takes hold in her creative centers and keep an eye on her output. You may have just done something very special for one person, or maybe it'll spark something that gives pleasure to a lot more than just her. That's the thrill of this job, the potential of making your simple actions for one mind ripple outwards to reach many more. Now change back into your own clothing and I'll send you home."
I smiled and did so. When I was done, Auria made a note in the file she was reading and shut the folder, which then flew into an open file cabinet and neatly alphabetized itself under "I" (it was a fairly large section, I noticed). "There is one more thing I should mention," she said. "This isn't the sort of thing we Muses had to deal with when we first started out, so I can see why it's a rookie mistake."
"What's that?" I asked. "I thought everything went fairly well."
"Oh, it did," she said with a smile, waving her hands to cause a cloud to form around me to take me back. "But, in the future, make sure anyone you visit has her webcam off before you appear to her." She winked and snapped her fingers, and everything went black.
Hello again.
It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Long enough that you might not remember me, I’d bet. That’s okay. We have ways of bringing back things that have slipped your mind, if we need to. But maybe a little reminder would help.
You’ve always had a good imagination. That’s what I remember liking about you first. It’s what draws me to you, even now. But then, sometimes an imagination just isn’t enough on its own, is it?
That’s where I came in. You called me Auria, and I was your Muse. I don’t mean that in a literary way; I’m talking about an actual spirit who visited you to help you transform your ideas into work. You see, you were thinking about… well, let’s stop dancing around the subject. You wanted a woman who would be a balloon with you.
It’s all right. I’m not going to judge. It’s my job to help people like you have those fantasies. And I loved it. Oh, there were some interesting times here and there, but when I inflated for you, when you made me so round, I felt an exhilaration beyond just the physicality of fullness. It was that I was full for you.
We’ve kept in touch, you know. You wouldn’t have recognized me in all your dreams, but I was there, with me guiding your mind and you guiding my flesh. I technically wasn’t supposed to visit you, as you weren’t trying to create something from the sweet experiences that vanished upon waking, but I missed the touch of your imagination and its effects on me as I swelled under your direction.
That was selfish of me, I’ll admit it. And now I’ve gone and done something that needs your help even more, and a psychic visit won’t do. This time, I need you here, with me.
I’ve had An Idea.
I remembered going to bed last night, but when I awoke, my vision cleared like a thick fog dissipating before my eyes. I was still wearing what I’d gone to sleep in, a loose t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants, but I was sitting in a comfortably sturdy wooden chair, the kind normally seen at jury duty or your more upscale garage sale.
The room I was in was colored the kind of eye-watering off-white that seemed to defy perspective–the walls could have been twenty feet away in a decently sized room, or they could have been giant and hundreds of feet in the distance. The lack of direct lightning didn’t help; everything was lit by an indirect glow that seemed to come from the air itself. Other touches gave the room personality: the large wooden desk in front of me, cluttered with…scrolls?; a set of wooden filing cabinets; a massive, fluffy-looking bed over in one corner. And, of course, dominating my view in front of me was my Muse.
It wasn’t that she was large in any way at the moment. She seemed to have a presence that drew my attention to her, and the blandness of the background made everything around her fade to obscurity as long as she was looking into my eyes. There was simply nothing else worth seeing as long as she was in my vision.
She is beautiful, of course. I think she was created fully-formed with a good amount of attributes that plenty of people would find alluring. Her deeply tan skin contrasted with the pale linen of her toga, and her large brown eyes peeked from under a mass of chestnut curls gathered in a loose updo, held in place by a metal band reminiscent of a laurel wreath. A few of these ringlets had freed themselves to hang around her face, giving her a gentle, approachable look despite the standard-issue Muse toga that demurely kept her chest out of view. She was sitting across the desk from me. A tall cylinder of gas stood in a wheeled cart behind her chair, its fittings and hose decorated with ornate golden trappings.
“Have you had a good enough look yet?” she asked in a strong voice. “I suppose we do have all day, but still.”
I was about to say something that I thought was witty in response, but my memory opened and I was suddenly flooded with recollections of my thoughts of her. She was more than just a fantasy I turned to in the dark of night; here in front of me was a woman, a goddess (no, she had been clear that she wasn’t that) who had brought my innermost desires to life on multiple occasions. Auria, her name was. The word seared itself across my mind in white-hot letters.
“How am I just now remembering…?” I began, and waved my hands in her direction, trying to convey everything around us.
“You couldn’t be allowed to go on with all of this in your memory,” she explained gently. “Not only would it miss the entire purpose of the Muses, but it would be a cruelty.” She folded her hands neatly and leaned towards me. Her voice dropped huskily, as if sharing with me her deepest confidence. “After all, how could you go on in society knowing that I was here, forever out of reach, your constant, inflatable immortal?”
As boastful as the words were, she said them matter-of-factly and I instantly realized the truth in them. I’ve had my share of romances and losses in my life, even after my first encounters with Auria, and I’d loved each of them as much as I could at the time. I realized now that compared to Auria’s supernatural force of personality and the way she tapped directly into the center of my sexual drive, these other relationships would have been like lit matches being held up against a lighthouse. No, I needed Auria to be a dimly-remembered dream while I was on Earth.
Speaking of which… I tore my eyes away from Auria and looked around the room, taking in the aforementioned furniture as the flood of memory settled. Yes, I’d been here before, more than once. The near-or-far ambiguity of the walls faded as perspective returned. This was Auria’s office in whatever plane of existence the Muses were based out of. She had brought me here to train me for some Muse-ing of my own, though demand for that seemed to have slowed shortly after I started; either human women were getting better at having inflation ideas without my assistance, or something had happened here in Musespace to make the position unnecessary. Of course, after most of these appearances as an inflation inspiration, Auria and I would have a private debriefing here, usually followed by a physical encounter of our own. The large wooden doors with frosted windows led outside, though I had never had the chance to see what was beyond. A cluttered arrangement of cabinets and a counter off to one side seemed to be new since the last time I had been here. A hanging curtain around that area would have kept the mess out of sight, if it had been closed off.
When she saw me looking over in the direction of the counter, Auria nodded towards the mess. “That’s why I’ve brought you here this time,” she explained. “I’ve done something that goes outside of my duties, and that’s where the magic happens.”
“Are you saying you’re breaking Muse Law or something?” I asked. “What do you have over there?”
Auria seemed to have been waiting for this question. She leaned back in her chair and thumped her sandaled feet on the desktop as she crossed her legs and smiled, clearly pleased with herself.
“I’ve gone rogue. A Muse has had an inspiration of her own.”
She’d delivered the line with such importance, but... “Huh?”
Auria rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it. Me, and the others like me here, we’re Muses. We bring existing ideas to you humans, or direct your thoughts to where you come up with the...” she trailed off, then snapped her fingers. “...connections! We don’t have ideas first ourselves and then give them to you.”
“Are you not supposed to, or are you talking about some kind of curse? You’re not stupid!”
She seemed put out at the implication. “It’s not about intelligence. It’s just the way we work, a fundamental part of what makes a Muse a Muse. I’m not just a human with magic powers.”
I raised my hands in mock defeat. “Okay, okay. Coming up with something on your own sounds like a big deal, then.”
Auria looked ready to go into more detail, but her previous demeanor returned with a sly grin. “Right,” she said, sweeping her legs off her desk and standing up. “I have something to show you.” The Muse walked to the corner of the room with the cluttered counter I’d seen before, then turned back to me. “Over here!”
I hastily rose and joined her, standing at her side. There were some small rods, what looked like lengths of tubing, and several tools, some of which I could identify but more than a few seeming to have strange uses that weren’t immediately apparent.
“I’m sorry, I’m not seeing it,” I said, after a few seconds of silence.
Auria laughed, a happy sound that played down my spine, raising my hair along the way. Good Lord, she was attractive, and even before she started directly playing up to my turn-ons. “That’s because I haven’t shown it to you yet. I had a little introduction ready, too.”
I nodded. “Fire away.”
She turned and hopped up on the counter, sitting on a section of the workspace that was luckily clear of mechanical debris. She then stared into my eyes, dazzling me with the warmth of her own amused gaze. “What’s the first thing to pop into your head when I say the word ‘hoses’?”
“You,” I said instantly. “It’s, uh... It’s something of a problem, actually.”
“No!” she said. “If you were coming at this from my end, it would be kinks.”
“Nice.”
“Still no!” she laughed. “I meant tangles. Or knots. Hoses are complicated, and they’re a pain in the ass to keep under control.”
I searched my newly restored memories for our previous encounters. ‘They didn’t seem that much of a problem before.”
She waved my comment aside. “Those are magical hoses. Somebody did a lot of complicated spellwork to make them work the way they do.”
“It still seems like you’ve got a good—” I began.
“Trust me. Hoses are all over the place, they restrict your movement while you’re trying to get a nice bloat on...”
“There’s got to be a better way,” I intoned seriously, nodding my head with each word.
Auria smacked me on the shoulder gently. “Joke all you want, but yes, wise guy. As a delivery system, hoses are a thing of the past.”
I shrugged. “So? You’re a Muse. Use magic.”
She tilted her head slightly and crossed her legs. “It’s about the suspension of disbelief, my writer friend.”
Auria pulled a familiar air hand-pump from under the counter and set it on the surface with a thunk. “If your fantasy depends on the air coming from one place and going into another, there needs to be a rational way for it to go from Container A,” she placed one hand on the pump, “and get it into Container B,” she finished with her other hand on her stomach.
It was getting clearer to me. “So as long as it makes sense within the story for the air to get into you somehow, you could just magic air into yourself and blow up that way.”
She nodded. “And if it’s more believable for it to come through a hose, then a hose is the way to go for that story. But here I have something that does away with the problems of the hose and provides a suitable air induction vector!”
I frowned slightly. “Who’s the audience for this? I think you’re losing me.”
“Other inflation Muses, of course. People for whom getting large amounts of air inside them is a common situation.”
“I... oh. Are there a lot of you now? I thought—”
Auria smiled again. “We can talk about that later, if you like. But for now, I need to show you... this!” She opened a drawer and pulled out two cylinders, each about an inch thick. One of them was about four inches long and polished metal, with a small hole on one end under a thin plastic cap. The other seemed to be half that long, but had a round T-shaped handle stuck on the end and was made of a thick, dark rubber. She held one in each hand and held them out to me.
I looked at them for a moment before picking them up. The metal one seemed to fit nicely in my hand, and I recognized the hole as a sort of socket that a hose she had used before would fit into snugly. The rubbery one felt like it weighed more than the metal one, and had a very slight give to its surface.
The handle on the shorter one reminded me of something, too. “Is this supposed to go, um...? Inside the, er...?”
Auria took the metal tube from me and laughed. “Oh, I forgot you’re a blusher! Yes, let’s call that a plug if you’re squeamish.”
She took a now-ubiquitous Muse hose from a cabinet and attached one end to the air pump, then removed the cap from the end of the metal cylinder and attached the other end of the hose. “The air that enters the hole on this half gets sent by a one-way portal into the half you’re holding.” She gave the handle on the pump a slow up-and-down, and I felt the tube in my hand shift slightly. “Your half there contains the receiver end of the portal, and will begin to inflate the plug. Once the plug has blown up a bit, it will form an airtight seal inside the user, and at a certain pressure, any new air sent will be released from that half and into the inflatee.”
She reached over and closed my hand around the plug end of the system. “Keep your fingers tight, but don’t start squeezing.” She pumped the handle a few more times, and the cylinder began to swell. Soon it was about twice as thick as it had been before, and pressed against the circle of my hand. “Good. Now don’t relax.” She pumped more, and I began to feel puffs of air against my face as air escaped from the end of the plug, each accompanied by a soft pfft.
“I see,” I said. “So you can still use your tanks and pumps and so on without a full hose. How does it get from one tube to the other?”
Auria shrugged. “Magic.”
“Oh, come on,” I groaned.
She smiled, understanding my frustration. “I know, we just went over this. But it’s a one-way teleporter, or whatever you want to call it. It’ll work here, or in a dream. You can think of it as advanced tech if you need to, but just accept that the air is going from one place and into the other place. How it does it isn’t as important to the story as whether or not you can believe that it’s doing it.”
Auria set her end down and motioned for me to come closer. I stepped up to her, and she uncrossed her legs so that I was standing between her knees as she sat on the counter facing me. She took my hands in hers and guided my thumb on the handle to a button on the side of the shaft, below where it had started swelling. “This is the release,” she said, pressing it with my thumb under hers. The plug gently gave up its pressure against my other hand while it deflated, shrinking back down into its previous size.
She clasped her hands, holding mine between them. “And that’s it. Simple, right? You know what to do.”
I blinked at her. “I suppose so. Is that why I’m here?”
Auria grinned excitedly. “Of course! I need to do a trial run, and I can’t ask anyone here to do it with me because we’re not supposed to be able to invent new things. Innovation takes a dim view on those who try.”
Without a further explanation of that cryptic remark, she leaned forward and put her arms around my neck, then hugged me to bring her mouth up to my ear. “We have magic, an unlimited supply of air, and privacy,” she whispered. Each syllable raced its way down my spine, hitting all the ON switches along the way. I closed my eyes and suppressed a shiver. “Come on. Help a girl out.”
Another chance, after all this time... Of course, I could only agree. I nodded and leaned into the hug, putting my own arms around her. I pulled her close, getting the scent of her while I felt the smooth muscles of her shoulders. “Just say the word.”
She grinned and tightened her hug for a moment, then let me go. “Just a moment,” she said. “I need to change.” She got up from the counter and took the plug from my hands, then crossed the room to the bed and walked around a privacy screen that had been set up in the corner.
“What’s over there?” I asked.
“Change of clothes,” she responded from the other side. As she talked, her toga came flipping up to lay over the screen, but its material was thick enough to prevent any interesting shadows from being shown through from the other side. “The point of this is to be able to get the benefits of a hose without the inconvenience, so...” She emerged wearing a perfectly modern dark gray business skirt and a loose, button-down white blouse. “Inflating using a hose through these would be awkward, so they’ll be a nice trial run.”
Her outfit also put me in the mind of prim and proper office ladies; if she had on a pair of glasses and a badge on a lanyard, she’d complete the look. Instead of mentioning that, I nodded. “Makes sense. So where’s the, ah...?”
“Plug,” she chided. “You’d better get used to saying it. And it’s already in.” She turned away from me and leaned over the bed, showing me her pleasantly round rear end. “Can you see anything?” Her skirt was shapely without being overly tight, and it reached to just below her knees. The blouse was tucked into the waist of her skirt, and the pleating of her top promised to unfold nicely when the time came.
“I see plenty,” I said, “but no, as far as I can see, it’s just you.”
“Good,” she said. “Nice and snug, and perfectly concealed.”
Auria finished posing and walked back to her desk, where she ruffled through the papers until finding something she was looking for. “Full insertion trial, take one,” she said, writing something. She turned towards me and waved her hands in a go ahead gesture. She didn’t need to tell me twice. Even as I approached her, I pulled the handle on the pump and pushed it down a single time in a smooth motion.
A slightly puzzled look went across Auria’s face and she leaned back to rest her hands against the surface of the desk.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, no,” she replied. “It’s just a little funny, feeling it getting snug.” She shook her head once as if clearing out doubts and smiled at me again. “Keep going.”
I obliged, pumping her a few more times. The Muse shivered slightly and smoothed her skirt down along her hips. I couldn’t see any change in her myself, but she was clearly feeling the plug getting up to something within her. I was standing near her by this point, ready to put down the pump if needed while still being able to keep her full body in view.
“Slowly now,” Auria said, and I changed my tempo, quickly sliding the handle up, then slowly compressing it back down. Each full pump took me several seconds to complete, accompanied by the quiet whisper of the air moving through the hose. She drew a shivering breath. “It’s pressing up in a sensitive spot. But I think it’s just about to–” I started another pump, and she suddenly broke off and made a sound between a sigh and a quiet moan.
I immediately stopped pumping while she leaned back against her desk. “Ah, there it is,” she breathed, then her eyes opened and she looked back at me. “The plug’s started releasing air,” she explained, as if that hadn’t been obvious.
“So, is that it?” I asked. “You do want me to keep pumping, right?”
“Gods, of course,” she answered. “I need you to see what happens.” She stood again, no longer leaning against the desk. “A little faster now that we’ve crossed this threshold, please.”
I began pumping slightly more rapidly and circled around Auria for a better view. Sure enough, with each stroke of the handle, I could see her skirt appear to grow slightly more taut. The fabric wasn’t at the point of stretching yet, but the ass underneath was filling it more and more.
Her growth seemed limited to her backside; from what I could see her waist and thighs remained the same size, leaving her cheeks and hips the only parts of her body blowing up to hold the air being pumped into her. As her rear expanded, it pushed backwards, widening to either side as it went. Her skirt broadened along with her, the fabric remaining smooth and tight without forming the ripples and warp of cloth under intense strain.
“Are these clothes magical?” I asked, leaning closer. I stopped pumping for a moment and ran my hand up her leg from the knee. She sighed contentedly and shifted her stance, the better for me to examine her legs. Her flesh seemed to be as supple and giving as one would expect of an uninflated woman, and her waist remained unchanged though her upper thighs were beginning to bulge outwards to match her hips. The majority of the air was packed into her buttcheeks, which flared out behind her. The tops of her cheeks curved higher than the skirt’s waistband, causing the cloth to pull upwards and drape along the roundness of her backside. The material was beginning to show signs of tension, revealing the tantalizing dimples of panty lines swooping around each cheek.
I brought my hand along the curve of her ass, feeling the ridge of the elastic lines where they arced across her swollen derrière. “Ah, hell,” Auria muttered. “We’ve barely even started and it’s having an effect on me.”
“What do you mean, ‘we’ve barely started’?” I asked. “You’re not giant, but you’re still a lot bigger than normal.”
“I mean, we haven’t used a whole lot of air, and it’s remaining confined to one part of me.” Auria seemed flustered even as she sounded slightly irritated. “The plug isn’t working for a full inflation like I’d wanted, but it’s doing well in its limited area.”
“Well, that’s scientific discovery, isn’t it?” I pointed out. “Not everything goes the way it’s designed.”
Auria reached out to me and gently took the pump and the metal cylinder from my hands. “I see that the device doesn’t leak when there’s no air being moved through it. The seal is working just fine on the plug end.”
A mischievous glint appeared in her eye, and she handed the cylinder back to me, placing the pump on the desk. “Why don’t you go ahead and blow into that end on your own?” she asked.
I held it up and looked at the hole. “Will that work?”
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t. Air goes in one side and comes out the other. I didn’t make it specify that it had to come from a tank or pump.” She folded her hands over mine, with the tube held between them. “Give it a try for me.”
I pulled one of my hands out from between hers and held it on her arm. “Stop making this sound like it’s difficult for me. The hardest part is keeping my hands off you.”
“And you’ve already failed that,” she said with a laugh.
“I guess so,” I chuckled. “Okay, switching to manual mode or whatever.” I held the metal tube up to my eye, the better to look inside. There was a slight blue glow coming from within, but nothing else that I could see. “It seems kind of a waste to make it so narrow, then. If this is for sexual fantasies and all...”
Auria laughed. “It’s a one-way portal, genius. Anything that gets in there isn’t coming back the same way. Besides, making it so small keeps the power consumption low.”
I shrugged and raised the smooth metal cylinder to my lips. Blowing into it was easier than I thought. I had expected some air resistance, like blowing into a balloon, but my breath passed easily as if blowing through a straw, and not even a straw held in a glass of water to make bubbles.
Auria’s eyes widened and she took a halting step towards me. “Gods...” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked hurriedly, lowering the tube.
“I... Hang on, I just felt a little weak in the knees,” Auria said, leaning against me. “Let me get my balance.” She walked somewhat unsteadily over to the desk and tried to hop up on it as she had the counter, before realizing that her inflated butt extended too far back to make jumping up to sit feasible. Instead, she reached behind her and lifted her bloated rear clear, then leaned against the desk and let her butt thump down on the surface. She wriggled a bit to pull the back of her skirt looser from under her, then leaned back and planted her hands on the desktop to either side behind her. If her skirt rode higher I would have a full view of her plump thighs, but as it was I could see their shapes bulging up and outward.
“Do it again,” she said, “and I’ll figure out what happened.”
I sat next to her and held one of her hands in mine while I held up the tube between my lips with the other. Our eyes met, and this time when I blew, I didn’t stop with a single breath. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning backwards to perch fully on her inflated ass while holding my hand for balance. She shivered slightly, but whether it was in reaction to what was happening inside her or in anticipation of what was yet to come remained unsaid.
“Oh, don’t stop,” she sighed. “Your breath is so warm and soft compared to anything that comes out of a can. It’s... It isn’t powerful, but I can feel it tickling up inside me when you blow. Don’t you dare stop,” she said again, and I took a deep, deep breath to exhale a long, steady flow into her. There was absolutely no resistance from the tube; blowing into her was as easy as breathing.
Now I could see that she was continuing to grow with every puff of air that I put into her. The rest of her legs finally began to take in some of the air entering her body, her calves swelling as her thighs continued their progress into soft, full cones. Her hips were nearly twice as wide as her shoulders now, though I suspected they had distended sideways when she sat down.
This renewed inflation was nowhere as much or as fast as from a pump, but I knew that this was all me. I felt a sort of pride that not only was this my air causing her to swell, but the act of filling her with it was electrifying to her as well. All the while, Auria gripped my hand and whispered that she was inflating with such warmth, such tenderness, directly from my lungs into the deepest part of her. My heart hammered in my chest, and without the usual whoosh and hiss of when she had inflated with a pump or pressurized canister I could hear her body gently creak as it took in more and more of my breath. It was very quiet, but it was a comforting, relaxing noise, like that of a well-worn leather jacket that holds you snug while you reach out to hug someone else.
The skirt was reaching the limits of its stretchiness. The seams began to split at the widest points of her hips, the holes exposing her skin to the light as the flesh beneath it pushed the cloth apart in a bid for freedom. The splits trickled their way down her legs, moving slowly while she grew from the gentle flow of air passing into her. As her ass grew, the skirt slowly pulled out from beneath her to reveal more of that bronze skin, the backsides of her intoxicatingly thick thighs and all the gentle curves around them. Her panties had yet to reveal themselves aside from the lines of tension around her buttocks, but they seemed to be holding up admirably and stretching to contain her instead of slipping inward to become a thong.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, still blowing. “This is amazing.” Her waist was starting to fill out to the sides, not forming a belly but making the extreme arcs of her hips less dramatic as her lower body plumped out to meet them.
Auria gripped my hand tighter and pulled on my arm so that she could tip against me. “I think we can call this a success,” she purred. “But there’s more I need to work on if—” A loud knocking at the door caused us both to jump.
The Muse’s hand was at my mouth before I could say anything, pulling the metal cylinder gently free from my lips. She looked around quickly, searching for something, then pushed herself from the desktop and made an annoyed sound. “Under the desk. Quickly!” She shoved the cylinder into my hands and pushed me towards the far side of the desk.
I slipped around to the other side and ducked into the cavity below. This was an old-fashioned wooden monster, with hefty drawers on either side and a thick privacy panel that reached all the way to the floor. I would be safe from view from anyone who wasn’t standing directly behind the desk themselves, and what were the chances of that? Well, one would have to come behind the desk to look inside the filing cabinets, and anyone over in the far corners by the bed or the counter might be able to angle a peek into my hiding spot... I scooted further inward and huddled with my back against the panel, clutching the metal tube to my chest and holding my thumb over the end to avoid jabbing myself in the chin with it.
The knock came again. “I heard the first time!” Auria called. I heard her draw the curtain around the little “lab” area of her office, then her footsteps receded towards the doors. There was a brief moment of uncertainty, then the creak of the doors opening. “What?”
“I need you to sign off on the latest—What in Hades are you doing so big in here?” The woman’s voice from the other side started out sounding bored, but became more animated almost immediately. There was something familiar about her voice, but it wasn’t coming to me right away.
“Fine,” Auria said. “Hold on, I’ll get this signed.” There was a slight thump as the person outside pushed their way in and the door closed.
“Ha, no way. I hate waiting in the halls out here in the fetish wings. Everybody assumes you’re trying to eavesdrop on something tawdry going on inside.” The second woman’s footsteps approached the desk, and I heard Auria coming closer, moving quickly while trying to seem unhurried. “Speaking of which...”
“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Omastia,” Auria said. Omastia! That’s who this was. I remembered seeing her once, before I’d started freelance Muse-ing myself. She had been introduced to me as something of Auria’s assistant, or maybe a protégé taking on inflation inspiration duties. We hadn’t really hit it off, and I hadn’t heard anything of her since. In the moments when my memories had been lifted to let me think back on these times, I’d assumed that she’d found a task that better suited her temperament, but maybe I’d been wrong.
“Right.” Omastia sounded amused. “Still, you drop your stylus like that and you won’t be picking it up for a few hours, so I’ll stick around just in case. C’mon, spill it! You’ve obviously got something juicy happening here.” There was a light thump as the second Muse playfully slapped at Auria’s swollen assets. “Well, not ‘juicy,’ wrong department, but you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Auria answered. “Know what you mean, not have something juicy.” I begged to differ, but stayed quiet from my spot under the desk. Auria came around to stand before me. I saw the office chair behind her slide forward of its own accord. It too was magical, allowing her to perform her managerial duties at any size unless she was literally too big to sit down, and by that point a chair wouldn’t be much use. The seat and armrests on the chair widened themselves comically to allow her to sit. I thought that Auria sitting down now of all times wouldn’t prevent Omastia from finding me if she was really intent on snooping around the office, but doing this was sending a message: This is my space, I’m on this side of the desk, so you just stay on the other side. I guess office politics were still alive and well even in immortal realms. For all I knew, there was probably a department for that fetish somewhere in here with its own Muses. When she sat down, I ended up facing directly between Auria’s legs; there was really nowhere else I could have looked without closing my eyes. Her skirt was still long enough that the hem draped across her knees, preventing me from staring right up her skirt, but her shapely calves were planted right in front of me. As before, her hips and thighs plumped with redistributed air when she sat down.
“If you really must know,” Auria explained, “I’m blowing up as part of research into trends on Earth. Inflation throughout the workday, and so on.” She leaned forward and picked up something from her desk, probably to go through whatever documents Omastia had brought with her.
“Sure,” Omastia replied. “I’ve been brought into some OL fantasies myself. The thing is, you’re missing something.” I heard her chair push back.
“What’s that?” Auria asked warily.
“You’re looking a bit unbalanced,” Omastia teased. “You’re playing into the ‘I wish I had a big butt’ look, but it always comes with a little something more.” Her footsteps were circling the desk and I had nowhere I could hide. Omastia’s legs entered my view from my left as she walked past Auria. For a moment she was eclipsed by Auria’s bulk, but I had no idea if I was completely hidden. I did the only thing I could think of while Omastia was still turned away from me: I grabbed Auria’s ankles and pulled her chair towards me until her thighs met the underside of the desk. With Auria’s inflated legs to either side of me in the enclosed space, I should be safe; Omastia would have to get down under her boss’s chair to see me. As it was, Auria’s massive thighs filled most of the space. I had nowhere else to go.
But now I could see Omastia’s feet reach the wheeled cart with the gas canister that had stood behind Auria’s seat. I recognized it; that container held an infinite supply of gas that could be as buoyant or not as the user wished. Auria and I had used it ourselves during some of our previous meetings here. Omastia pulled the cart around beside Auria’s chair and disappeared from view. There was a brief scrabble and I realized that she was now seated on the desk. Hopefully, sitting cross-legged... Nope, her own uninflated legs dropped over the edge to either side of me as Omastia braced her feet on Auria’s swollen legs. I held my breath and shimmied down as much as I could, with only Auria’s skirt stretching between her legs hiding me from Omastia’s sight.
“I’m trying to get work done,” Auria complained.
“And I’m trying to help you,” Omastia said. “You want to key into that worker-bee inflation fantasy, you need a little top-up up top.” Omastia’s slender arm appeared, holding the hose from the tank. From my new lower vantage I could see Auria preparing to argue, but she reached out and took the hose. Maybe she thought the sooner she appeased the blond Muse, the sooner she would leave.
“There you go,” Omastia purred. Auria put the hose to her mouth and I heard the squeak of a valve wheel being turned. Auria’s chest stirred beneath her blouse, as if her breasts were surprised to be called upon after so much attention had been lavished on her exquisitely inflated lower half. With a faint hiss from the tank, her breasts began to grow.
Blowing up from a tank uses a constant stream of gas, meaning that even the slightest amount of inflation becomes noticeable quickly, and Omastia was giving Auria more than a slight amount. I watched her breasts as they swelled within her bra. The highest buttons of her blouse began to strain as they held fast against the rising tide, but I knew that unless her top was as magically enhanced as her skirt, the fastenings were not going to hold on for long. The prolonged hissing of the tank had an effect on me as well: I was suddenly powerfully erect. It felt like the bottom was dropping out of my stomach as I watched her continue to grow, as excitement at the inflation controlled by neither one of us went on and on. Auria couldn’t keep in a moan and reached behind her. Her breasts spilled over the tops of her bra cups before she released the clasp. Omastia pulled Auria’s bra free from the ballooning Muse’s shirt and let it flutter to the floor as Auria’s expanding breasts surged out into fat teardrop shapes, steadily inflating into spheres nearly the size of her head.
If Omastia happened to look down at the bra, I was done for. I tucked the metal rod into my waistband and ducked my head under Auria’s skirt, reaching up to hold the cloth beside her knees with both my hands to keep the hem from shifting upwards and exposing me. With the light coming from above, I could make out the shapes of the women sitting on top of me, but the dark fabric and shadow under the desk should make me invisible from that side. I was safe from being seen that way.
Now I was sitting on the floor holding Auria’s knees beside my head, with her gorgeously over-generous thighs arcing away to either side of my face. Even in shadow as we were, I could see directly along her engorged legs to her panties. They were black, high-cut briefs without any fancy lace or colorful threads, perfectly no-nonsense business wear that still allowed her thighs room to grow. Beyond the widening of her hips, from this angle her lower torso remained uninflated; there was no sign of a growing belly. I heard the hiss of air being carried through her inflating body directly to my ears as she pressed against me. My breathing grew ragged, and I could feel her begin to shudder against my head as my breath tickled at her sensitive, stretched skin. She was beginning to squeeze me with her knees, and her calves hooked over my shoulders.
“There we go,” said Omastia. “There’s that proper hourglass for your hourly wage earner look.” I saw Omastia’s thin arms reach out to Auria’s chest, giving her what I first took to be a surprisingly forward grope but then realized was a no-nonsense adjustment in the same way a clothing designer would handle a model just steps away from the runway. The shadow of Omastia’s head appeared from above, but she was soon eclipsed behind Auria’s breasts as she leaned forward to slide her hands down Auria’s sides. “Still a little pear-shaped for my tastes, but your office lady balloon act is more than good enough for any of those perverts.” There was another squeak as the valve on the gas canister was closed. I had to hold my breath in case she could hear me down between Auria’s tantalizing thighs.
“Good,” Auria said, her voice sounding a little strained. “Now get off my desk so I can finish signing these.”
Omastia’s legs disappeared, and when she spoke her voice came from the other side of the desk. “That’s okay, they’re not urgent. I’ll come pick them up later.”
“Omastia!” Auria seemed to want to kick herself away from her desk to stand up, but her legs came down heavily on my shoulders before her feet could touch the floor. She bucked slightly in her chair instead, inflated thighs coming together against my cheeks and completely blocking my view.
The blonde Muse’s laughter receded as she went for the door. “Enjoy your research, boss. Don’t forget to put your hair in a bun and spill some coffee down your front.” There was a slam as the doors closed behind her. For several long seconds all I could hear was my own breath against Auria’s legs. My vision had been blacked out when she closed her thighs over my face.
“Is she gone?” I asked quietly, my voice muffled by the bounty laid before me. I tapped her leg twice in a playful wrestling submission.
“Help me out of here,” Auria said flatly. I put my arms around her calves and leaned forward, unintentionally bringing my face further up her thighs before her chair began to roll backwards to free us both from the confines under the desk. She slipped her legs off my shoulders and pushed herself up from the chair, then briskly walked to the door. I heard a series of clicks. “There. Fully locked, with out-of-office and do-not-disturb wards set.”
Funny, usually she remembered to do that before bringing me over to this place. “Is it soundproof, too?” I asked. She’d never mentioned it, but I didn’t recall having to be quiet in our previous engagements. I pulled myself up from the floor, but not soon enough to see her as she’d walked to the door. It was a shame, because the view must have been fabulous. Maybe I’d ask her to do it again later, if she was of a size where it was possible.
Auria nodded. “Water- and air-tight as well. Some of the stuff that goes on in our private rooms... Well, it doesn’t need to get out where everybody has to step in it.”
I went to the counter area behind the curtain and found the plastic cap for the metal cylinder; I’d been putting my mouth on that thing and didn’t want it rolling around uncovered in case I ended up using it again. Once it was in place, I turned back to see Auria standing with one hand on her hip. Her blouse was still on, most of its buttons straining against her breasts. The top buttons had been undone to reveal a line of deep cleavage. The lower buttons held tightly against her expanded midsection, the pleating having done its job in expanding to contain her. The waistband of her skirt remained snug as it encircled her, though the tears down the sides allowed wide swaths of bare skin to make their appearance. Her thighs were enormously thick with the air they contained, together having grown broader at their widest points than her hips. The tears had stopped at the reinforced hem at her knees, and the fabric hung down to cover her groin and ass as if the skirt had been deliberately made to expose her legs in a way that would drive me wild. It probably had, I realized. I could see the creases where her thighs met her hips, seemingly begging me to run my hands as deep along them as I could to feel the air-filled expanses above and below. Her panties were finally showing, the elastic of the leg holes still taut against her hips and making slight divots in her curves.
I dragged my attention away from her legs and met her gaze. She was looking at me with what appeared to be annoyance.
“Auria, I’m sorry I got handsy,” I apologized. “You saw how close she got to us!”
“It’s not the touching I mind,” she said. “It’s that you thought it would be a good idea to keep inflating me while you were down there! Do you know what might have happened if Omastia found my invention!?”
“I didn’t put any more air into you! I was busy just keeping out of sight!”
She walked up to me, stopping only a few inches from bowling me over with her massive chest.
“Look, I know she was blowing up my breasts through the hose, but I could still feel a little bit coming in through the plug. Or do you think I can’t tell when air is coming in through my ass? Me, whose job is literally to inflate?”
“You can read my emotions, can’t you? You know I’m not lying! I didn’t keep blowing you up!”
She paused and looked into my eyes, then reached up a hand to hold me by the hair at the back of my head. After a moment, her expression softened. “No... I can tell you mean it.” She sighed and pulled me into her, wrapping her other arm around me and hugging me against her soft, bloated form. “I’m sorry. It could have been something with the portal, or... I don’t know. I’ll need to figure it out later.” I risked returning the hug, embracing her around her relatively uninflated midsection. I knew I was pressing my full self up against her, but she’d already said she knew how I was feeling. Surely there was no point in keeping my arousal secret after all we’d been through.
Auria smiled slightly and she looked up at me. “Omastia was right about one thing, though.”
“And that is?”
“I do feel unbalanced like this. As good as a huge hourglass can be, there’s nothing quite like a full body experience. Is that something you think you can help with?”
“Absolutely,” I said, reaching for the cap on the cylinder, but Auria stayed my hand.
“This is something we’ll need a more hands-on approach for,” she said.
“It is? You’ve done full-body from one place before, and we could run the hose to your belly if that doesn’t work.” As I made rationalizations, it occurred to me that the Muses were often a little whimsical in their actions. What sounded sensical in one scene wouldn’t work in another for seemingly capricious reasons. Auria had called it “narrative imperative”: sometimes stuff happened just because it needed to happen. Perhaps it made sense if you were a semi-fictional being who helped to bring ideas to life, but I had learned to just take things as they came when a Muse came to visit.
“All right, then,” I said, raising my hand with the rod in mock surrender. “Teach me, Miss Auria.”
“A belly hose right now would give me a belly,” she explained, “and just a belly. With multiple inflation inputs having begun, the same parts of me would continue to blow up. A three-bee session can be fun and reach some interesting shapes, but what I’m in the mood for is a good...” She pushed her hips forward, trapping my erection between her thighs. I tried to step back in surprise, but she still held me tight with her arms.
“Full...” She pulled me against her chest, using the hand behind my head to force my face into the hollow of her neck.
“Roundness.” She let the final word trail into a whisper in my ear as she used her other arm to grab one of my hands and guide it along her asscheek as far as she and I could reach. This time I couldn’t contain my reaction. I gasped and clutched at her, squeezing the ballooning goddess in my hand as I pulled her tighter against me. I drove myself between her thighs, the cloth of her skirt and my pants holding me back to the point of pain. Still, she was squeezing me with her soft, warm thighs, and with all this excitement I was charged to the point of tunnel vision.
“Ah-ah!” Auria suddenly released me with a playful tutting, pushing me gently away with one hand. Her other hand flashed out to grasp me and I gasped again as she let me rock back then pulled me closer in a way I couldn’t help but follow. “Nothing that’ll make a mess just yet. But it won’t be torture or a tease.”
I looked down and saw a slight golden glow escaping from the hand she had around my member. “No blue balls for you, my human. There will be no release until I say so, but you’ll still feel great up until then. Muse promise.”
“That sounds exactly like a tease,” I choked out. Her grip was tingling.
“Okay, it’s a little bit of a tease, but you’ll enjoy it the whole time. And not in any ‘pain is pleasure’ kind of way.” The glow and tingle subsided, and the horny fog in my head receded. I remained stiff in her hand, though, and she traced a finger along my length. It felt amazing, but while I was still turned on by her shape and touch, I felt no overwhelming need to come. “I’m giving you some staying power. We just don’t need anything to happen prematurely, and I know you’ll like what’s ahead.”
“‘You have such sights to show me,’” I muttered. If Auria heard me, she didn’t react to it.
The Muse released me and took a step back. “Think of it as my body currently having three inflatable areas.” (“Air-ogenous zones,” I commented. “Zip it,” she shot back.) She gestured to each in turn as she listed them: “The first goes from my delightfully filled butt down my legs. The second is in my chest, reached from my mouth or nipples. The third, currently vacant, is the rest of me, which usually has a couple of entryways in our genre.”
I raised my hand, good lecture student that I was. “But you want one zone that encompasses your entire body instead. I’ve seen you inflated entirely before through one hose, so what’s stopping us from doing that?”
Auria nodded, recognizing my attention to detail. “Now that the inflation has started from separate areas, there are... metaphysical barriers that keep the air constrained to their original points. We need to break down these barriers to allow for me to become one singular inflatable with multiple points of access.”
“Okay, so? Doesn’t that just involve us filling you until the air begins to push into new parts of you?”
“As I was just saying, no. Just inflation will be too gradual on the boundaries. We’ll need to provide more of a dramatic shock to my system.”
“And I assume you’re going to tell me.”
“Good heavens, you get testy when you’re forced to wait. Don’t worry, you’ll like this. I’ll need you to squeeze me until my interior spaces connect.”
I closed my eyes in frustration. “It seems that we were well on our way to doing that just a moment ago.”
“We were,” she agreed cheerfully, “but you were close to losing yourself in the fantasy. I need you to stay with me.”
“Hey.” Her tone became less playful. She placed her hands on my cheeks, and I opened my eyes to see her looking right into mine. There was none of the subtle superiority I often felt coming from her, Muse-to-mortal. Her concern was genuine and open on her face. “This will be good for both of us. I’m not holding you back out of spite. I... I wouldn’t tease you in this way to be actually mean. You know that, right?”
I dropped my head onto her shoulder again. I held her to me, pressing her against my chest. Without having to look at her, it was easier to say what I was feeling. “It’s just... It’s been so long, Auria. I’ve had the dreams, and the longing, and you stopped coming. I accepted that whatever brush I had with divinity, creativity, whatever, was more or less over. My time with you was done, and when I enjoy seeing pictures and stories of this out there, in my actual life, it feels more and more like what I had with you was just a fantasy of my own. And then you bring me back here and expect me to act as if nothing has changed for me.” After the excitement of Omastia’s crash visit, the fullness of the memories that had been kept from me was rushing back. Memories of here, in this world, of memories on Earth... The memories of when I’d thought back on my previous experiences, those too were gone, meta-memory of times I spent considering my own thoughts. Auria had meant so much to me, and though the exact thoughts about her had been covered up, they had left a Muse-shaped hole in my mind that I only now could realize were the cause of past heartache.
She made soft shushing noises and rubbed my back as I continued. It seemed something within me had broken instead of in her. “And I... I can’t hold it against you, because you never lied. You never said that whatever we had was going to go on. But you were gone, and you said you took my memories of you with you, but the longing was still there. The longing for you, my Muse. What you made of me, and what I made of that. And now you want something from me, and I don’t know if I can bring you nothing but... devoted following. That’s not me anymore.”
“Ah, my little writer...” Auria rested her head against mine, both of us leaning against her cushions between us. “You know I’m not just for you. There are others. I give inspiration elsewhere. Maybe you’ve come across it. Humans inspire each other.” She gently led us to the bed and sat down at the edge.
Rather than sitting with her, I slid to my knees, letting my head slip between her breasts and holding her tight around her waist as I clutched her to me. “I know I’m not the only human you see. But you’re the only Muse I see, inspiring me to put these thoughts into words.” I rested my head on the soft pillows of her thighs, and I was dimly aware that I was still, even in my tears, as horny as I had ever been for the perfection of her pneumatic body and the pleasure it promised.
I took a ragged breath and risked opening an eye. The massive shelf of Auria’s bosom prevented me from seeing her face, and several seconds passed without either of us saying a word. She stroked my hair gently. I pressed my cheek against her and risked a tighter hug, listening for the creak of shifting pressures under her skin. “You know that I wrote... about us, right? You specifically?”
“Of course.” She sounded wistful. “I was there. It’s not the first time I brought inspiration, but it was the first time I Mused for someone who saw... me. Just me, being myself, and not overlaying what I brought onto their own preconceived ideas. Who imagined me enjoying the story as they did, alongside them, a co-creator of the fantasy and not as a prop to their imagination.”
She began holding me tighter against her flat belly, keeping me where she didn’t have to look at me while her breasts rested on the back of my head. “I realize now that I was... greedy. I withheld you from other Muses because I wanted your fantasies to run wild on me, in me, with me. And when I visited less often, you produced less often, and because you produced less often, you stopped warranting inspiration as often. And so the time runs by for you.”
“Are you telling me you don’t feel how long it’s been? That you never missed us?”
“No... No! But we don’t... We here can’t let it reach us like that. Humans and Muses... it never ends well, even back in the times when we practically lived among you. Especially outlandish Muses like me. That’s why I truly had to make you forget me, because I knew if you were longing for me personally, after too long I would do something foolish.”
“How could I forget you? My stories were about you! I could just pull them up whenever I wanted and remind myself!”
“Not all of them! But that was a problem,” she agreed with a short laugh. “I guess I just thought you could convince yourself that they were only stories. You humans tell each other stories all the time, and most of the time the first person you need to tell them to is yourselves.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, and let myself down to sit on the floor. Looking up at her from this low vantage, I was again reminded of this beautiful mountain of femininity in her swollen state. The vastness of her thighs and breasts, her gorgeous face at the top, mimicked the vertigo-inducing exaggeration of a photo looking up a steep cliff, but this was all her. “A real encapsulation of the human experience. What about you, then? Did you try to forget about me?”
“I stopped visiting Earth as much, yes. I still do, to keep my hand in, but...” She looked embarrassed. “I take on more of the managerial duties. Our niche has... well, it’s expanded, to use the most obvious word, but it’s true. And with the work, the time passes here, with my mind on other things.”
Realizing that she hadn’t been denying me time with her, but herself time with me as well, made the ache of the lost time sting less for some reason. It was stupid, because it was hurting us both instead of just one of us. Misery loving company? Or sheer perverse schadenfreude? To actually take pleasure in it would be downright cruel, and yet there it was. We weren’t sharing the pain, it was two different hearts feeling two different pains, but we weren’t alone in it.
I scooted forward and hugged her bulging calves, pressing her legs together so I could rest my head on her knees and look up at her. “So, what then? You’re the boss around here?”
“Hmm... I do have a certain amount of responsibility when it comes to representing inflation among other Muses, but I don’t really give orders. Assignments for human visits just kind of turn up, but when I can see one that is particularly suited to one of us, I try to make sure it gets to the one who can best see it through.”
“And what is Omastia particularly suited for? I remember you had some ideas about that the last time she and I met.”
Auria leaned forward, letting her breasts bat my face. Inflated as they were, they bounced off my head gently before she pushed them aside, giving me a momentary nuzzle among her cleavage. A human with breasts of that size would have broken my nose trying this, further accentuating the fantastic impossibility of who she was and what we were doing.
“I don’t want to talk any more about her,” Auria said. She reached out and found my hands around her knees, then with a yank she snapped the remaining threads that kept the hem at the bottom of her skirt together. The fabric slipped down, draping along her inner thighs before sliding away and leaving her legs entirely exposed. She grasped my upper arms and pulled me between her legs until I was kneeling before her, my face once again pressed against her midsection with her thighs gripping me softly. I reflexively threw my arms around her waist, letting them rest along her rump.
“You still have a task to do,” she continued, “that is, compressing me. So get to it.” The change in topic was sudden, but who was I to refuse such a delightful duty?
Auria’s ass was so big that I couldn’t get my arms around her there. I let my hands slide along her curvaceous form until I had most of a thigh in each arm. I took a deep breath, then tried to bring my arms together, crushing her upper legs against me as I leaned forward to rock her back into the bed. The Muse made a shocked gasp of pleasure in response.
Auria wrapped her knees around me, holding me as tightly as she could with her legs. She put her arms around my back, pulling me against her as she fell backwards, rolling along her inflated rear. We ended up with her on her back with me lying on top of her, the two of us squeezing her thighs as hard as we could. The soft plushness of her legs encircled me, keeping me trapped against her. Her breasts blocked our view of one another’s faces, but I could hear her panting as she pulled me against her. Her thighs had been soft and yielding to my touch before, but as we put pressure on them her skin stiffened, becoming more rigid like a properly filled pool toy.
“Harder...!” Auria sighed. I lifted her legs from the bed and dropped down with all my weight, willing the air in her cheeks to find somewhere else to reside. Again and again I bounced the Muse against the mattress, each time forcing a moan from her as the air in her ass fought back against us, refusing to move. I didn’t think I could press her any more into the mattress if I tried, but maybe she hadn’t been talking about me.
In a fit of lustful inspiration I picked her up bodily, lifting her clear from the mattress. Auria clung to me, legs still wrapped around my torso as she hugged my head against her stomach and leaned over my head. I could feel her ass extending down, pressing against my belly. With a wordless roar, I turned and rushed at the wall, slamming her ass-first at the hard surface. Auria cried out in surprise, but she hugged me tighter and I knew she thought we were on the right track. I continued to drive her into the wall, shoving her over and over as I cradled her incredible bottom in my hands. With each push, the tension in her body built and slackened as we squeezed the air in her.
I gave Auria one last herculean heave. The Muse cried out in ecstasy while her thighs suddenly gave in to my clenching hug. The wide expanse of her hips began to recede as her midsection bulged into my face. Auria was finally growing a belly, the air within her beginning to shift from her enormously thick hips and thighs into the unclaimed frontier of the rest of her. We leaned together against the wall, saying nothing for a moment while I listened to the exciting, rubbery groans of the gas having its way with her.
I carried the inflated woman back to her bed and lay her down gently, admiring the new curves of her body. The change in her wasn’t instantaneous, and we both watched her shape change to fit the demands of her new capacity. Well, I could watch; Auria’s view must have been awkward, but from her expression she was obviously conscious of her shifting form and was more than happy with the results.
Her thighs were much smaller in size now, yes, but they had regained their soft plumpness when the pressure inside them went down. They were still enticingly thick, and my hands lingered at the waistband of her skirt, which had stretched as her waist expanded to accommodate the air. Her blouse had come untucked and strained across her belly, revealing a sexy muffin-top all around her.
“Oh, my,” Auria sighed, her voice husky. “That was an experience.”
“I, uh... Yeah,” I said, eloquent as ever. “Feeling you at the moment you seemed to, well, give in? It seemed way more intense than when you inflate normally.”
“Mmm.” With Auria’s hips less distended, she was able to roll onto her side and prop her head up with her elbow. She gave me a smile and looked me up and down, feeling along her side with her other hand. “It was very nice.”
I tried to return her gaze, but I was soon fixated on her hand stroking the side of her swollen belly. “You aren’t even all that full, actually. I mean, you’re bigger, of course, but nowhere near the sizes we’ve gotten you to before.”
“Yes, I’m still mobile,” she agreed. She raised one leg and swung it around, showing off her flawless thighs as she raised herself into a sitting position. “I’d still like to be, but there’s nothing preventing us from... Well. Do you still have the input half of my invention?”
I hustled across the room and retrieved the metal tube from the counter. When I looked back, she had pushed herself backwards until she was braced against the headboard, her legs splayed and her belly protruding. She held out her arms welcomingly, and I ran to her. I shucked my clothes and joined her on the bed. I reached for her waistband to remove her panties, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me up until I was straddling her on my knees, her midsection rising up under me.
“Stay like that a moment,” she said. I kept my posture, my erection obvious between us, as she undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse. She sighed in relaxation when the last button was released, and her chest bounced along with her belly.
“If I’m being honest,” Auria said, “That squeezing session was very, very nice.” I nodded, remembering her squeals of delight. Maybe she wasn’t aware that she’d made them. “And it would be unfair for me to monopolize all the pleasure we’re having.”
The Muse took me gently in her hand and guided me between the soft spheres on her chest. She gently pushed her breasts together, completely enveloping my penis with warm, inflated flesh. “We both know that I’m more than capable of taking what you have to give.” She nodded to the rod in my hand and then down to the rod in her cleavage. “So give it to me.”
I pulled the cap from the tube with my teeth and spat it to the side without a second thought. I blew into the end and felt her shift beneath me. Each time I blew used relatively little air, but it built up. With every breath I gave her, her body was expanding, her entire body now. I rocked into her, noting the lack of friction where she was letting me rub against her—the logical part of my mind was not being pushed aside during sex, thanks to the magic she had used to keep my wits about me.
Her belly rose up as she grew, and before long I was bouncing back against her with every thrust. The curve of her inflating torso continued higher up her body, nestling between my legs. I gave her a questioning look, and she nodded, her hair falling into her eyes. I brushed her hair aside, holding one hand on the side of her face, and we stared into one another’s eyes. We said nothing; everything I had was going into her and she was concentrating on her increasing fullness. Both of us gasped for breath: me with effort of blowing her up alongside my own movements, and she with the sensations of her inflation.
Her ballooning midsection pressed against me harder, swelling around my legs and forming a cushioned saddle for me to ride. I was no longer bouncing against her; she had become a throne, cradling me as I rocked on top of her. I nearly stopped as I felt her taking more and more of my weight, but the look she gave me said keep going, and so I did. The pressure of her breasts squeezed me tighter and tighter, but nothing could stop me from pushing myself between them again and again.
I felt her growing warmer where she was holding me and looked down at her chest to see a shimmer of golden light escaping from her cleavage. She met my eyes and nodded. I felt my attention on her body lessening, my concentration focusing acutely on the supernatural titfucking we were performing. I was her willing servant and at this moment she was my patron sexual goddess, my perfect swollen woman, the embodiment of my deviant desire, filled with air by me and from me and for me. My mind was entirely devoted to the part of myself buried between her immense breasts, and when I came seconds later it was with such intensity that I nearly passed out.
I toppled from my perch atop Auria’s magnificently rounded body and slid down her side to land on my back on the bed next to her. The rod dropped between us. As I took a moment to catch my breath, I felt Auria moving next to me and turned to watch her. She passed her hands over her body in what looked like a practiced pattern, and her fingers glowed. When she was finished, she looked over at me and caught me looking.
“Just a little spell to clean up,” she explained with a smile. The Muse pushed herself away from the headboard and half-bounced, half-rolled until she was lying next to me and took my hand. From my new vantage point I could see her new form, a swollen dome extending from the base of her neck down to her groin. The breast I could see protruded from the bubble of her body, no longer a separate “inflatable area” as she had put it, but a smaller sphere midway up her torso. Her shoulder wasn’t flat on the bed but had been lifted up as her back plumped with air. Auria’s rear and thighs had continued to inflate along with her belly, not joining in the growing orb of her body the way her breasts had. Her derrière was a pair of immense globes packed into her underwear, which had continued to grow and stretch around her. If I’d been able to see her from the front, I was sure she would still be pear-shaped despite the inflation we’d given to her body. As it was, her hip and thigh were noticeably wider than the air-filled ball she was becoming above them. Her waistline had disappeared in the expansion, and the waist of her skirt had stretched itself thin around her, clinging to her body like it had been painted on. Her panties ringed around her hips and then plunged down under the curve of her new gut.
I dragged my gaze back up Auria’s curvaceousness and saw her staring at me. She had a playful smile and her cheeks were flushed. “How do you do it?” she asked.
“I had some help,” I explained, raising my closer arm to rub the back of my hand against her side.
“Not that,” she said. “How are you still inflating me?”
“I’m not,” I laughed, holding up my empty hand. “I’m not even holding the tube.”
“I know, I know.” The Muse shook her head. “But I can feel it. Just the barest tickle of incoming air, but it’s there.”
I found the tube between us and held it up. “Look, here it is.” I placed the tube between my lips. “If I was blowing you up while talking, I’d sound like this,” I said, my words muffled slightly by the obstruction in my mouth.
If Auria had been capable of sitting up, she would have. Her head snapped back, eyes wide. She clapped her hands to her belly, pressing my hand into her. “What was that?” she gasped. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I mumbled around the tube, then took it out of my mouth to better explain. “I was just saying–”
“That was it!” she said, her eyes flicking from the tube to my mouth and back. “You were speaking directly into the cylinder, and it sent those vibrations through that air directly into me.”
“Was it bad?”
“I want you to do it again,” she said, “and keep going.”
“Okay,” I said. I leaned back and gathered a couple of pillows to lean against, then settled down, lying next to her while her stomach rose above us. “What should I talk about?” I rumbled into the tube.
Auria pulled herself the short distance to lay her head against my chest, tucked into the crook of my neck. My arm automatically reached under her and curled around her shoulder. She stretched her legs out and her swollen thigh and buttock on that side pressed along my body, her inflated cheek forced against me from hip to knee.
“Talk about this,” she whispered. “Talk about me. Tell me how this looks, blow me up with words about me blowing up.”
“As you wish,” I said, and she sighed and melted against me.
“My Muse,” I started, and she nestled deeper into me. “Your body is everything I have ever dreamed of touching. You are so full and round, and all I want is for you to be fuller and rounder and for you to want that too. I want to sink against you when you are soft and pillowy, and I want to feel the tightness of pressure inside you.” As we lay together, I felt myself stirring again. I wasn’t feeling aroused just yet so soon after what we’d just done, but being this close to her divine, magical body was making my mortal flesh respond.
I reached out with my free hand and tugged the waistband of Auria’s skirt so that it thwapped against her back. “I want you in those first thrills when you begin to grow larger than should be possible, and I want you when every touch sends a wave of pleasure through your sensitive skin. I want you fighting against the confines of your clothing, and I want you nude and proud and gloriously inflated.” Auria’s ass grew as I praised her, the cheeks slowly stretching wider as her miraculous panties restrained great expanses of pressurized flesh.
“I want to see every curve of your body getting fuller and fuller with air, this air, my air. I want you bloated and mighty and so goddamn sexy with gas that it makes me weak. I’ve seen you big and beautiful with a body so amazing that I lose myself when you let me touch you.” The curve of her hip was reaching sideways as she grew, creeping closer and closer to my erection. If I didn’t stop talking, her inflated skin would touch me all on its own as she swelled, and I would probably make a mess of myself a second time in the very same way I had just described. She hadn’t reapplied the spell she’d used on me.
“Am I not that now?” Auria asked. She shimmied playfully, and the motion sent her belly bobbling. Her ass wobbled centimeters from me. I tried to subtly angle my hips away to avoid brushing against the side of that immense, supernaturally wonderful curve. Just thinking about rubbing against her was nearly enough to ruin this moment.
I hugged the Muse against my side. “Of course you are. You’ve seen my dreams and I’ve been lucky enough to live them. You did that, and I’ll love those memories forever.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, burying her face into my chest and clutching my arm against her tightly. My eyes snapped open, and I dimly felt my dick thud into her backside like a drum, but somehow those signals seemed to be coming from far away...
“Oh.” Auria stiffened beside me as the words she’d unthinkingly said reached her ears. We stayed motionless for a moment, before she pulled herself away and rolled over the side of the bed to a standing position. “I... We should call this trial over,” she said, making sure to face away from me. “Some problems to work on with distribution, but the delivery method is sound.”
I paused before replying. “Y-Yes. Success all around. You’re a great inventor, Auria, and you should be round—proud, you should be proud.”
“I’m both of those,” she answered, turning back to me. She looked rattled, but seemed to regain confidence when it appeared that we were going to go on as if those four words she’d said hadn’t happened. Now that I was looking at her straight-on, the fat cones of her thighs were even sexier, descending from hips so wide I had no chance of hugging her the way we’d embraced earlier. Her belly button had remained an innie, which wasn’t always the case when she inflated, and the furthest curve of her swollen body was beyond her arms’ reach. I realized I was very much ready for a second go, but I doubted it was going to happen.
“So, are you going to send me back? Anything else I need to do while I’m here?”
“A couple of things,” she said. “I can’t let anyone here know about this just yet, and I’ll need help getting back to my original shape.”
“Didn’t you have a necklace or something? I recall you had a charm for that.”
“Oh, that,” Auria loosened up a bit with a chuckle. “No, that was just a plot device for that moment. Kind of silly, really, putting a breakable object that you need to use when you’re incapable of reaching it.”
“Oh, okay. So this time...?”
She looked sheepish. “Speaking of being incapable of reaching things, the plug has to come out, and...” She waved a hand behind her to indicate her backside.
“Ah. Well, maybe that’s one thing hoses have going for them.”
“Can you hurry up? I still feel like I’m inflating and I want to get to the bottom of that.”
“I’ll get to the bottom of you,” I countered.
“Yes, that’s the point,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s go, chop-chop.”
I happily rose from the bed and circled around behind her. The back half of her skirt was still draped over her monumental cheeks. I tucked it under the waistband and turned my attention to the matter of her underwear. The material was supernaturally resilient, but more to the point there seemed to be as much of it as needed at any time; her panties hadn’t stretched to the point of transparency or fraying despite having grown to cover several square feet of area across her rear. Pulling them down might be a trickier task than it first appeared; with Auria’s huge hips and ass, keeping them from slipping right back up would be hard, and I couldn’t hold both sides of her at once.
“Is there any chance we can cut these off you?” I asked.
“Not really,” she replied. “The Muses of inflation don’t make a habit of keeping sharp objects lying around.”
“All right, all right,” I said. “Maybe we can just...” I found the waistband and began rolling it down her side, pulling on it as it approached the swell of her hip. This was easier than just trying to yank it down, but it would still unroll if I let it go. “I need you to lean against the wall here and pin this into place.”
Auria let me steer her into the wall, leaning against it to trap the rolled elastic from returning to its spot higher up her thigh. I pulled my hand free and circled around her to the other side, admiring how tightly her inflated butt was packed with air. I repeated rolling the panties’ waistband down her other hip. Both sides were now lower than the curve of her hips, but the shelf of her ass was preventing them from coming any lower. With both arms extended, I was able to hold onto the rolled elastic at her hip and grab the waistband as it stretched across her back. I was hugging a single, giant asscheek, leaning against its firmness. With my ear pressed up against her taut skin, I thought I could hear a very slight hissing. But she and I were both moving around, and I couldn’t be sure.
Auria needed to brace herself against the wall even harder when I leaned into her. “How’s it going back there?” she called sarcastically.
“Almost got it!” I called back in a cheery tone. I pulled the waistband down along her ass, which was proving something of a challenge to navigate. Her skin had nearly no give to it, which was surprising considering that I’d seen Auria fully spherical before and I knew she could still be bigger. Still, I’d never seen her butt so big on its own, so perhaps there were different rules in place.
I slid backwards along her, letting gravity do the work as I held onto the waistband with both hands. Once the elastic was clear of the outermost arc of her cheeks, the material decided to give up and her panties dropped to the floor. For a moment they puddled at her feet, a beach towel’s worth of sheer fabric piled up around her, then they rapidly shrank until they became a normal pair of panties around her ankles. Well, somewhere in the multiple-XL size, but still conceivably wearable by a human woman who wasn’t the size of a wrecking ball.
The underwear hadn’t really been holding anything back as it grew along with her, but seeing her from behind now still seemed momentous. The twin masses of her cheeks were forced together from her upper back nearly to her knees, not forming separate spheres like I would have expected. Her hips were narrower than her ass wanted to be, it seemed, and instead of independently becoming balloons behind her they had filled backward and pressed against one another, still growing outward as much as her pelvis allowed.
I thought to myself before speaking up. “Do you think you’ve started fully becoming a sphere yet?”
Auria turned her head to look at me, not expecting a technical question at this moment. “What? No. My legs aren’t filling into the rest of me yet. Why?”
I looked appraisingly at the size of her swollen rump. “This might be a trickier job than we thought.” I ran my hand down the line of the cleft between her cheeks, feeling the pressure of her skin from both sides. “You said you don’t have scissors, but... Maybe a crowbar?”
I got down on all fours and crawled on my back under her, admiring the way her thighs towered over me while her shape filled my view: a single dome of her belly to her front and the twin compressed balloons of her rear on the other side. I attempted to get a hand between those taut cushions from this angle, but was again stopped by the sheer pressure forcing them together. Auria reacted to my touch with a slight shiver, but our main goal remained out of reach.
I pulled myself out from under her and pulled myself up the bed to a standing position next to her. I felt light-headed, but whether it was from the exertion of getting on the floor and back up, the adrenaline wearing off after that incredible moment we’d had on the bed... or the quiet confession she’d given me moments later, which we seemed determined not to bring up again, I couldn’t say.
Auria noticed my discomfort. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked, brows knitting in concern.
I almost waved her off, but suddenly honesty felt more important than ever. “I... I feel kind of faint. Like I’m getting a headache, but also like I’ve just run a mile.”
The Muse smiled gently and pushed down on my shoulder until I sat on the bed. “Well, you just relax for a bit,” she said. “I’ve got just the thing.” She daintily stepped out of her panties on the floor and walked back to her desk, then returned towing the gas canister in its little wheeled caddy. She gave the wheel a slight turn and left it beside the bed, hissing gently to itself.
While that tank was a source of great pleasure for both of us, seeing it just standing there disconnected was a little unsettling. “That’s not going to inflate me, is it?” I asked.
“Not if you don’t put the hose in your mouth,” Auria reassured me. “Or up your butt. Or any of the many other places you humans have thought about.” She laughed softly and gestured for me to lay down. “Take a break for a minute and take in some oxygen. You’ve been through a lot.”
I wanted to protest, but the offer was too sweet to pass up and to be fair the feeling had been getting worse. I settled back on the mattress and Auria waddled across the room to her desk, looking over her design notes with the soft rustling of papyrus. Something about that gentle crinkling, the hiss of the gas, and the soft bed made sleep irresistible, and I let myself fall into that welcome darkness.
I woke up to someone shaking me by the shoulder. I turned my head to look, and Auria was right there, her expression troubled. “You have to get up,” she said once I regained my senses.
I blinked a couple of times, double-checking that I wasn’t still dreaming, then noticed that Auria had grown even larger while I’d been out. Her waistline had filled out to her sides to a ridiculous degree, and her belly and hips had taken advantage of that to make her entire torso an orb that reached nearly to the floor. The waist of her dress had apparently given up the fight long ago and was nowhere to be seen. Her legs seemed to have avoided becoming part of that ball, however, and while her ass was indisputably much wider than I remembered it, her cheeks remained as tight and seemingly smashed together as before. She was having trouble reaching past the swell of her own sides to reach me, and I realized that if she’d let me sleep much longer she would have been totally unable to get to me at all.
“What happened?” I asked, taking in the sight of her.
“I don’t know,” she answered, and the admission seemed full of frustration and guilt. “But I know who might.”
I rolled out of the bed and helped steady her on her own two feet while she could still stand. “What’s the plan?”
She tossed a mass of white cloth on the bed, and I realized it was another toga, one much too small for her right now, but still reminiscent of something I had seen before.
“Put that on,” she commanded. “We’re going to see Innovation.”