An update of a previous illustration from Inflate123's classic story, "Happy Holly Days".
Susan and her friends Holly, Wendy, and Dave wanted to have some fun this holiday and decided to take part in the big Thanksgiving Day parade. Each having chosen a character to cosplay, they snuck into the parade balloon preparation hanger in the early morning and used Holly's Inflation Spells for Dummies book to inflate themselves into big helium balloons.
Later in the day, it looks like Airtankgirl, Ms. Bouncer, and Irene were in the crowd watching the procession go by.
Airtank Girl always drinks a big glass of Inflatercize Shake before beginning her inflatable workout.
Dr. Henrietta Planck needed a dress she could wear that would fit her when she was both her normal self as well as after she has transformed into her inflatable alter-ego of Edelle Montgolfier. So, she asked an aquaintance who was familiar with her predicament to design something for her.
Featured down the front are snaps that delightfully pop apart as she blows up. At her waist is a fabric belt knotted at the front that stays in place as she transforms. Before her hips balloon up, she unties several bows along the lace-up side slits on both sides of the skirt. Hidden in the folds are slightly elastic bands that hold the front and the rear panels together. And lastly, she is wearing loose suede boots with hidden elastic panels sewn into the rear seams to accomodate Edelle's shapely calves.
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The Herietta Planck/Edelle Montgolfier character belongs to Throwaway261
Susan and friends having fun as party balloons before festivities start. Happy New Year!
I like how Dr. Janssen confingured the options for her SkyRise session and thought I'd share a still from the video.
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Dr. Julie Janssen and the AOS belong to Inflate123
It looks like one of Dr. Janssen's associates at the AOS bought her a gift certificate to SkiRise. For her flight suit, she decided to have a little fun with it and picked out one for some cosplay.
Honestly, folks, the jokes just write themselves on this one.
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Dr. Julie Janssen and the AOS belong to Inflate123.
Of course she'd never actually want to inflate herself.
Well, maybe a little bit, but never if there was any risk of floating away.
Okay, maybe floating would be fun, but only if was safe and controlled.
But she wouldn't want to get too big. Although big might be fun if she wasn't in danger of bursting. She might be okay with being a human parade float, as long as she could still stay curvy. A nice huge pair of balloon boobs, with a pneumatic caboose to go with it. And maybe a little extra around the middle.
Or maybe a lot.
"I wanna blow up," Katie gasped to herself. But she couldn't. There was no way in hell she was going to sit on a helium tank, and she didn't know of any ways to achieve her dream without risking an explosive demise.
At least, that's what she thought before she received an email with the brief, simple title of "ROOM 8"...
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This is Katie from Luther's story "Conspiracy, Part 1: Peer Pressure"
Accompanying text by Luther V. Kane
Story by Throwaway261
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There was going to be hell to pay for this. No doubt about it.
Zoe wandered the lobby of the abandoned hotel, the rubber soles of her boots squeaking slightly against the green marble floors. Her orange HAZMAT suit was getting warm from the weight, the lack of airflow, and her own exertions. The helmet wasn’t helping matters, its weight bearing down on her neck. Of course, she wasn’t wearing this for chuckles. The heat would just have to be something she’d have to deal with.
Reaching down to her waist, she gave a knob on top of a small air tank a little spin, and she was rewarded with a gentle breeze inside her helmet. A little extra fresh air, and suddenly she wasn’t feeling so light headed. Sure, she’d reduced her working time by an hour, but it was better than being passed out in a dangerous environment. And dangerous it was. The detector on the inside of her wrist was clicking, its needle firmly in the yellow. To breathe in this air would be unwise.
“I’ve made it inside. Proceeding to the suspected contamination zone.”
The speakers in her helmet squawked to life. “Affirmative. Remember: your priority is to assess the leak and close it if possible. Do not attempt rescue at this time.”
“Roger.” Doubt I’m heavy enough to help any poor bastards still in here, anyway.
The sound of ripping fabric caught her ears, her attention now fixed where the noise had come from. The front desk was empty, abandoned just like the rest of the building. However, a scrap of blue fabric falling from the ceiling and upon the marble countertop clued her into what had made that sound. Tilting her head and helmet back to look at the ceiling confirmed it immediately.
She was big. Big and nude at this point, although her more embarrassing parts were out of view, either to the wall or ceiling. African American, silky smooth black hair hanging down from her head, and a body pushing 7 feet around, growing bigger with each breath. She appeared asleep, probably exhausted from the panic. A blessing in this case. No awkward conversations, no tears, no yelling or screaming. Just walk on by and fix this. Getting her comfortable for a long deflation could come after, once the air was clear.
Zoe turned her attention towards the elevators, only to find a massive pair of breasts filling a door, their owner trapped in the car. It was likely the remaining elevator cars were similarly occupied, so she skipped them and proceeded straight for the stairwell. A quick climb down had her at the basement level, the detector on her wrist clicking at a maddening rate, the needle pinned in the red. She was approaching the source.
Her lock picks made quick work of the utility door, and a flashlight banished the dark. The damage was visible almost immediately. Gas tanks, various plumbing parts, respirators entirely unfit for the task. Ducking under a pipe, she came in closer for a better look. The bright yellow Sven Co. pipe, 4 inches around and bolted to the wall, had split open like a banana, and was spilling undiluted gas straight into the building. Someone had tried to steal straight from the tap, accessing one of the pipes that moved the gas across the city from the refinery to the bottling plant. They had known enough to access the pipe as it passed through the hotel, but not enough to know the exercise was completely foolhardy. Judging by the lack of human balloons on the ceiling, she suspected they’d find their thieves stuck in one of the elevators.
There was nothing Zoe could do here. There were no manual valves on this section of the pipe, and the split was way too big for the epoxy patch she had on her. Only thing she could do was call it in. The reactors at the plant would need to be shut down. A costly endeavor, but it was their only option at this…
SMACK! Crrrk!
As she had turned back toward the door, her helmet collided with the low-hanging pipe she had ducked under mere seconds ago. Her vision was filled with the spiderwebs of cracked plexiglass, and a draft met her face. She gasped, and felt her belly tighten against the belt of her suit. SHIT!
She dropped her flashlight and bolted for the bright rectangle of the open door, her lungs beginning to burn as she held her breath. Her suit continued to tighten, body inflating off of the gas still trapped in her respiratory system. Running became difficult as her thighs bloated to fill the legs of the suit. In the stairwell, she exhaled and sucked in a fresh lungful. Not fresh enough. Her breasts filled the suit almost as violently as a car’s airbag. The suit groaned in protest, and so did she, disoriented by the speed of her blimping.
The once roomy suit now clung to her tight, the belt digging into her ballooned tummy. She took the stairs step by ponderous step, slowed down by her massive pneumatic thighs and an unwillingness to breathe. A low hiss emanated from her body as she slowly continued to inflate, the dregs of gas within her lungs being slowly absorbed. Red-faced and dizzy, she made it back into the lobby, and risked one more breath.
The air was cleaner here, but still contaminated. She undid the buckle of her belt, and was rewarded with a resounding bwoomph as her belly found freedom. The heavy rubber of the suit put up a miraculous fight as it stretched around her. Slowly, she bounced back towards the entryway, looking for all the world an overinflated astronaut. Almost there. Almost there…
Fifteen feet from the door, and her own feet failed to return to the ground. That last breath of air and gas had been just enough, and now she wasn’t going anywhere but up. No point in suffocating herself at this point. She uncoupled the hose from her helmet, letting in the outside air, took a deep breath, and spoke.
“Security, this is Zoe. I’ve been exposed. You’ll find me inside and directly above the entrance. Shut down production at the refinery. I repeat, shut down production. There’s a two foot long section of pipe that needs to be replaced. Over.”
Bwoomph. Shrip! Just as soon as she was done talking, her back met the ceiling and the seams of her suit began to split, her body now inflating with each heaving breath. I’ll never take breathing or walking on my own two feet for granted again.
“Roger, Zoe. Relaying the shutdown order. In the meantime, just hang loose, and try to relax. Payday’s Friday, and you’ve earned a 5 day weekend.”
Story by Throwaway261
Another day, another on-site photo shoot in Mandy’s quest to document Inflatable Americana.
Mandy gave the shoulder straps of her suit an adjustment as she exited the locker room. The attendant gave her back her card, ball cap, action cam, and digital camera, and proceeded to lead her to the staging area. Today, she’d be going native: instead of gassing up almost buoyant with a jet pack on her back, Mandy would be free floating like everyone else. SkyRise wouldn’t accept the liability of someone taking kerosene-powered turbines into their park. Part of Mandy felt naked without her pack. The other part of her welcomed the novelty of actually enjoying the attraction she was documenting.
As they approached the launch chamber, Mandy reached up a hand to turn on her action cam, and was rewarded with an affirmative beep. She performed one last check of her equipment, making doubly sure the wrist retainer was secure and in good repair. No point in needlessly putting her camera, or the people below, at risk. Satisfied that everything was good to go, she stepped into the cylinder, listened to the last of the instructions from her attendant, and let the anticipation wash over her as she was sealed inside.
After taking a couple shots of the interior of the chamber, Mandy slotted in the card that held her preferences, took a couple more shots of the control console, pressed the start button, and took up her position at the center of the tube. An alarm rang out three times as she adjusted her stance and waited for her inevitable inflation. She didn’t have to wait long, though, as the platform under her feet began to glow a brilliant radioactive green and a pressure began to build within her.
She marveled at the feeling as the countdown ticked the minute away. Usually, she relied upon a tank to get gassed up, but this was an altogether new experience for her, and frankly, she loved it! No hose in her mouth, no tether between her lips. While she did miss the cause and effect of inhaling herself larger and lighter, there was something liberating about her breasts and thighs ballooning without her input. Bubbles unspooled and swelled within her, belly blimping to match. It wasn’t long before her feet left the ground, mere seconds left on the clock, her signature smile never once faltering.
Steadying herself, Mandy prepared for the dome above her to open. It was time to get to work.
“I love my job!”
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Mandy, Svenson Studios' Art Director and Chief Photographer, takes a ride at a SkyRise Inflation Park to get more material for a coffee table book she is working on.
You previously met her in "Drone".
The bandits went from station to station behind the counter, threating to inflate anyone who didn't cooperate. This brave teller defied the order and hit the alarm, anyway. For this, she took the bandits' full wrath and was the first person in the bank that day to end up floating on the ceiling. When they were finally able to get her down, the paramedics reported that she was in a catatonic state, staring straight ahead with a smirk on her face.