BI dreams

I had a lucid dream last night. Like most of my lucid dreams, this one turned to inflation. It's definitely one of the stranger and more entertaining dreams I've had.

The beginning of it is fuzzy and I only recall vague flashes of it. I was in a cartoon world that operated under cartoon physics. I was stalked and attacked by a number of beasts. I incapacitated one by sticking the hose from a pump into its mouth and inflating it.

The world shifts, and it feels like I'm waking up. I'm no longer in the cartoon world. I'm home, and there's a cocktail party going on. The house is filled with people, some familiar, some not, some I recognized as real life versions of people I saw in the cartoon world. Most importantly, I still have the pump with me. It's like a bicycle pump, but shorter and wider. Strangely, nobody at the party seems to notice that I'm carrying a bright red pump.

This is the point where lucidity starts to creep in. I question whether I'm dreaming. I get sidetracked because I'm convinced that I just woke up from dreaming I was in cartoon world. And if I've just woken up, I couldn't still be dreaming right? But if I wasn't dreaming, then why did I still have the pump? This was quite concerning. I want to figre this out quickly because I intend to do what I usually do when I achieve lucidity in a dream: I'm going to try to inflate someone. And this time, the dream has even given me a freaking pump to use. Could my subconscious be any more obvious in its intent? On the other hand, if I was actually awake, then it would be highly inappropriate to walk around trying to inflate the guests..

Note to self: If you're not sure whether you're in the real world, then you probably aren't. It's a very good thing that, even when dreaming, we assume that we live in a world of consequences. But it's irritating sometimes.

The dream starts to fade. Sound become jumbled, walls become blurry. I'm standing, but I can feel the bed pressing against my side. I'm aware of my own breathing.

I've had some luck staying in a dream by trying to immerse myself in it. That is, I stop trying to examining the dream or bend it to my will, I just go along with it. In this case that meant going into the kitchen to mingle. The walls solidify as I walk down the hall.

I'm standing among a small cluster of people. The conversation is boring, and is being dominated by a loud woman I think I recognize from the cartoon world. The rest of us just smile and nod. I'm not paying attention. I've gone back to contemplating the dream. When the world faded, it confirmed my suspicions that I was dreaming, but I'd gone back to playing by the dream's rules. I want to fix that.

In theory, you can do whatever you want in a dream once you're lucid and the more experienced lucid dreamers can and do. If you want to inflate someone, just think it and it happens. In practice, there are varying levels of lucidity. I've often lamented this. I've had much more luck influencing dreams if I play as much by the dream's rules as possible. This time I was absurdly lucky; before I became lucid, the dream has supplied me with a pump that I knew could inflate people.

I focus on the woman who's talking. She's older, blonde, wearing a loose flower print dress. I think her name is Marge. Her words are an endless drone. Even when I listen I can't tell what she's saying. I try to stuff the hose into her mouth. She swats it away.

"What are you doing?" Finally, I can understand her. She looks at me like I'm crazy. This often happens in these dreams, and it's reassuringly familiar.

I hand her the hose. "Go ahead, try it."

She shrugs and complies. It's very rare for a dream character to push beyond the initial protest. The rest of the people are relieved that she's no longer speaking. The cluster shifts, reforms, and the two of us are outside of it.

Excellent. No audience.

I push down on the handle. There's a whooshing sound, and Marge's belly swells. Marge is shocked, and she presses her hands against her middle to confirm what's happening. The pump puts out a lot more air than is possible for its size. I'm pleased by this. If it behaved like a real pump, then I'd wear my arms out trying to fill her up.

The handle spring back up, and I press it down again. Marge's torso grows to the size of a barrel, and some of the air goes into her arms. She's having trouble keeping them bent. She looks at me with disbelief. I see that her face has swollen some as well. It used to be thin and wrinkled, but now her skin is plumped and smooth. I pause for a bit, fascinated by this. A few more pumps and Marge's dress is pulled tight around her but stretching quite a bit and staying together. Her body is a slightly oblong ball with fat, stubby limbs protruding. She makes muffled noises of protest. I remove the hose.

I leave Marge standing there. She's unable to speak, only making unintelligible moans that are almost inaudible over the background of music and talking. She seems surprised rather than angry or afraid. Nobody else at the party notices her condition.

Marge was just a test run. I only inflated her because she was nearby. But now I know for certain that the pump works in this world. And since I'm dreaming, I can do whatever I want with it. I go to the living room to find another target.

I see Laura. She's a friend of one of my neighbors. She's a short, skinny, cute brunette. Like the group of friends she's with, she's young, pretty, and perky, but she catches my attention. I'm feeling confident now. Without saying a word, I walk up to her, place the hose in her mouth, and start pumping.

She only gets out a sharp squeak of surprise before she inflates. She looks around frantically at her friends for help, thrashing her arms. Laura blows up differently from Marge. Her body grows round, but her arms are unaffected. They stay slender as her body bulges up around them. It happens quickly. It only takes about ten seconds to get her almost completely spherical.

Then her friends react. At first they don't even acknowledge me.

"Holy shit, what's happening to Laura?"

"Somebody help her!"

Then one of them turns to me. "What are you doing to her? What the hell is wrong with you?"

I stop pumping and retreat to the kitchen. Nobody follows me, but a crowd gathers around Laura.

Lucidity starts to waver. While the dream hasn't completely turned against me, it's starting to enforce its rules of conduct. I can't just go around inflating people without consequence. I'm annoyed because now I have to figure out how to get someone away from the crowd in order to inflate her. That's much trickier.

While I'm contemplating this, Sarah approaches. I know Sarah from work, she's in a different group in a different office but we've met a few times.

It only takes a moment for me to size her up as a potential target. She's quite attractive, tanned, toned and fit. I know her, so I could probably draw her away from main party if she were there by herself.

But she's not. Sarah's with her husband. This is strange. While I know that Sarah is married, I've never met her husband, seen a picture of him, or even know his name. In my dream he shows up as tall, rugged, and very muscular. The kind of guy who could easily break my face if I did anything inappropriate. For some reason I instantly like him. I'm more concerned about offending him than I am about being beaten.

"I saw what you did to Laura," Sarah says. She says it casually, but I feel threatened. She only the second person in this dream to acknowledge that someone was inflated and that I'm responsible for it.

"Yeah, that didn't work out as planned," I reply.

"You made her pretty big." Sarah isn't at all upset or disapproving at all. If anything, she seems amused by it.

"Could you do that to her?" Hubby asks, tilting his head towards Sarah. "You know, maybe you could blow her up, and we could have some alone time."

I'm caught completely off-guard. I turn to Sarah. "Do you want to do that?"

She nods, clearly excited. "Uh huh."

"Um, okay, let's find somewhere private."

It's a big party, and the house is quite full. I look around for a spare room that we could use, but there are people hanging around in every room we check. Eventually I realize there wouldn't be anyone in my bedroom so I lead them there.

"We can use my room. Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. But I can blow you up here, and you two can use my bed." I'm happy to offer it if it means I can inflate someone.

"You wanna stick around and watch?" Sarah asks. It's like she's offering a customary courtesy. Hey, we're going to use your bedroom to fuck, the least we could can do is put on a show for you.

"Um, I think it might be kind of awkward to watch one of my coworkers have sex," I replied. I'm still trying to get my brain around having a willing subject for inflation.

Sarah shrugs. "Okay." She and Hubby sit down on my bed. I hand the hose to Sarah, and she puts it in her mouth. She turns to Hubby and strokes his leg. She's nervous, but she's also bouncing gently on the bed with excitement. She looks back at me and nods. She's ready.

I press down on the pump, and Sarah clenches her eyes shut, wincing with strain. It takes more force this time, and the effect is much less; her belly swelled enough to lift her blouse and expose her midriff, but that's all. I hesitate. Hubby holds one of her hands while she gestures to me to continue with the other. Pushing as hard as I can, I pump again. Sarah plumps up a bit more, then the hose flies out of her mouth.

"Dammit!" she shouts.

Hubby hugs her. "Don't worry, honey, we can try again." He hands the hose to me. "How bout I pump and you hold the hose?"

"Okay," I say. He stands up and takes the pump from me. Sarah lays down on the bed. I hold the hose to her mouth with one hand and the back of her head with the other.

"Ready?" I ask Sarah. She nods and gives me a thumbs up. "Go ahead and pump now," I say to Hubby.

Whoosh.

The pump is much more effective in Hubby's hands. The rush of air is more than Sarah or I expect. Her eyes snap open wide with surprise and she jolts, arching her back as her stomach balloons to an enormous size. In an instant, most of the buttons go flying from her blouse and the front of her skirt starts to split. After one pump her belly was already half as wide as my queen-sized bed. And Hubby doesn't give her time to catch her breath.

Whooosh.

The air spreads through her entire body this time. Her breasts, spared by the first pump, rapidly fill until they were several times larger than her head. The remaining buttons on her blouse give out and her bra snaps. Her arms and legs stick out stiffly and grow thick.

Whoosh.

Sarah's cheeks puff up and her lips grow plump. Her whole body expands outward. Her breasts grow huge, but are stretched across her torso to form vast domes. Towards the end of this search, her skin faintly groans. I look at Sarah's face for any signs of distress; her eyes are closed, her expression blissful. I wonder if I should take the hose out. She seems very close to bursting and I'm not sure if she can handle another pump.

I wonder too long.

Whooosh.

Sarah creaks and squeals, quivering as she grows larger. I look up at the curve of her belly. Her navel is much closer to the ceiling than it is to the bed now. Her skin is visibly strained, stretched farther than I thought possible.

I remove the hose. "I think that's enough."

Hubby nods and sets the pump down. Sarah is panting, eyes still closed, lips curled in an ecstatic smile.

I run my hand across her incredibly taut, tanned belly as I head for the door. "You two have fun." Hubby was already taking his shirt off as I left.

I enter the hallway. There's something going on out in front of the house. I can't tell what because everyone's crowded in the entryway and spilling out onto the front yard. I can see flashing lights and a big crowd.

After I spend a while trying to get a look at what's going on, Sarah and Hubby emerge from my bedroom. She's deflated and fully dressed, her clothes intact again. Both of them look quite happy.

Sarah puts her arms around me. "That was amazing," she said. "Too bad you weren't there to watch." My first reaction is fear, since Hubby's standing right there. He just looks on, smiling.

She looks around and sees that the rest of the guest are focused on whatever's happening outside. She kisses me.

"Maybe next time you can stick around," she says. "There can be a next time, right?"

I'm a bit dazed. "Yes, of course."

"Good. Maybe it can be just the two of us. And you can do more than just watch."

Now I'm terrified. I look over at Hubby, and he just smiles, nods, and walks away.

Then we both notice that a camera crew has pulled up in front of the house. The local news station is filming. We push away from each other, both thinking the same thing. We don't want our bosses seeing us making out on the evening news. She goes to find Hubby, and the dream fades out. I wake up.