Think of it as Karma

Inflation Types:
Sexual Content:
Date Written: 

Monique couldn’t believe it was working. Who would have thought that a twenty dollar pseudo-pregnancy potion and some bullshitting would have so much mileage in a high school reunion? Her old classmates were noticing for the first time that she actually existed, and some of the ladies were --she couldn’t believe it-- actually jealous of her. It was amazing! Just another half hour to go and then everyone will think she has a fiance named Chad and a cozy apartment in Boston! Then she’ll have at least twenty years to figure out what to do with her life, get a job, move out of mom and dad’s house, start dating, and all that other stuff too. More than enough time, right?

She also could have believed someone had swapped her heart for a timpani and lodged it in her throat. This was the final stretch, after all. Everything falls apart in the final stretch. Every. Single. Time. It’s like one of the laws of physics or something. Newton’s first law of bullshitting: everything goes wrong in the final stretch. The attention is great and all, but why won’t they just go bother someone else now? Why did she have to be the center of attention? Why not, like, the event horizon of attention or something? She had no idea how long until her potion would start wearing off, and if she wasn’t history before it did she was royally fucked.

Monique was also kicking herself for not buying a second potion to make sure her clothes actually fit before going. Her dress was a full body tourniquet, and the neon green color made her feel like a walking lime. Her ass was about as well covered as one would expect in a pornography story, and it wasn’t like she could get any of her panties to fit properly and comfortably so she had to go commando. Which of course meant shuffling everywhere like an old lady to keep anyone from getting an easy peek at her crotch. She felt, and to some degree looked, like a camwhore. If she ever wanted to know what a sausage felt like, she sure as hell knew now. She barely managed to stuff her tits inside of her bra this morning. God, why won’t they just go away? At this point, she just wanted to go hide in a dark room until this was all over. I mean, being noticed is great, but privacy is a little underrated.


And now she was drenched in some stupid redhead’s stupid glass of stupid water. Just when it couldn’t get any worse.

“Did I get you?” The bimbo asked. “Shit, I’m so sorry! Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have worn these heels. I roll my ankles in them all the time!”

Monique laughed it off, “It’s okay, it happens. No problem!”

But she was actually pissed the fuck off.

“Hold on, I’ve got some napkins in my purse.” The redhead pulled a baseball sized handful of wrinkly old napkins out of her dime-sized purse and shoved it in Monique’s hands. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get some paper towels, too!”

“No, no, no! No, it’s--”

And she was gone. Fucking great. The napkins didn’t really help much. Rocks were more absorbent than these things. She couldn’t uncrumple half of them without ripping them apart. And the constant bombardment of comments from everyone around her didn’t exactly dry her clothes any faster. Why won’t they go away?

Who was that, anyway? She didn’t remember any redheads in high school. Certainly no one that looked like her. Drop dead gorgeous face, six feet tall, cannonball breasts, and her hair wasn’t just red-- it looked like it was set on fire. Anyone that looked like her, Monique would have remembered. Why did she have so many in the first place? And why are they all from Burger Wiz? Monique uncrumpled the last napkin, which apparently had black streaks on it.

“Oh, it’s sharpie.”

Monique’s blood froze. Written in big letters was “LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE”.

“Oh, look at that! Out of napkins, I’m going to, uh-- yeah.”

Monique shoved her way through her circle of parasites and went so far as to walk to the bathroom, to the butt-clenching terror of her dress. She burst through the door and scanned the line of stalls. Her heels clacked on the white tile floor, driving her crazy with anxiety on her way to the first stall. She pushed the door and peeked in.

Empty. What about the second one?

Empty. Third?

Empty. Fourth?

Empty. Fifth?

Empty. Aw, hell.


“Where the hell is she?”

Just in case she somehow missed her, she checked the stalls again on her way to the door. Empty again, of course. She grabbed a paper towel and wiped herself a little bit drier, taking the opportunity to make funny faces at herself in the mirror in the meantime, as was the habit of someone as desperately lonely as her, and totally normal. Well, at least she told herself that.

At least she did manage to look rather attractive in her dress. It really couldn’t have worked without her freshly tanned skin, which gave her a deceivingly healthy glow. It was a good thing she took a nap at the beach yesterday.

“I’m lucky I tan so good. I walk outside and just-- bam! I couldn’t bother to put in the effort if it wasn’t so easy.”

She grabbed another paper towel.

“I bet that dumb redhead burns like paper in the summer.”

“You’d be surprised, actually. My skin holds up pretty well.” Her reflection said.

Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? Sort of like how your body feels at the bottom of a roller coaster, where your organs just turn into mashed potatoes in your feet and your brain feels like a water balloon? At the moment, Monique was feeling remarkably similar to that.

Her reflection continued, “I mean, I can’t tan for the life of me, but that’s not worth caring for if I’m honest. Especially when I look ten times better than you.”

Apparently, Monique had fallen into some lucid dream. Her reflection took on a life of it’s own. It’s eyes changed from her familiar chestnut brown to a sulphuric yellow while a terrifyingly smug grin unveiled a bandolier of carnivorous canines. Her black hair grew longer before Monique’s eyes, while the strands peeled apart like bananas and exposed a disturbingly familiar red color beneath. Hell, it clearly wasn’t her reflection anymore. Like wet paint in a rainstorm, her olive skin withered away until it was an albacore white. Wait, is it taller now? Her belly shrank until it was flat and trim, while her breasts got even bigger. Finally, to top it all off, two little horns --which if it weren’t for the terrifying circumstances could almost be called cute-- poked out of her hair like a pair of bamboo shoots.

“Wait, you-- you’re the redhead!”

“Wow, really? I had no idea! Anything else you wanna tell me I already know? Oh, I know! Tell me that I’m in a mirror! Go on, do it!”

“Uh, y-you’re in a--”

“Shut up!”

The redhead climbed onto the counter and grinned. Her menacing teeth sparkled as she spoke.

“I love this part.”

The redhead slowly pressed her hand on the glass, which bent and deformed around her fingers like gelatin. It snapped back when it got as far as her wrists. She pushed her other arm through, and then her head. It was like watching an actually decent horror film. It wasn’t until the redhead was halfway through that Monique made an uncomfortable observation.

“Why-- uh, why are you naked?”

“Personal preference.”

The redhead was as far out as her waist, wiggled her butt out, and gracelessly plopped onto the floor.

“Oh, damn it! Well, I guess there’s no point in a second take.”

As the readhead climbed back onto the counter to pose like she should have done, Monique rushed for the door and jerked on the handle.

“What, you’re not stupid enough to think that someone who can crawl out of a fucking mirror world couldn’t lock doors, right? Tell me that much.”

The mirror directly behind the redhead started to fog up. Monique pulled on the door as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You done yet?”

Monique turned around and pressed her back against the door.

“I-- Uh, who…”

“Who are you, what are you, I’m so scared, blah blah blah. I’ll give you the short version: Hi, I’m a demon and my name is Alba, nice to meet you, let’s get down to brass tacks.”

“Uh, O-Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy--”

Alba recoiled in faux horror.

“Oh! Oh, no! She’s saying the Lord’s Prayer! What ever shall I do? I’m burning! I’m burning!” She burned Monique with her eyes, “You feel stupid, yet? ‘Cause if you don’t, I could keep going.”

Alba hopped down from the counter.

“Stupidity’s cute, ain’t it? And let me tell you, you are being --so-- cute right now.”

Monique backed away as Alba sashayed closer until the electric shock of the cold bathroom wall hit her in the spine. Alba slithered up to Monique in an almost grotesque display of malicious confidence. She put a broiling hand on Monique’s distended gut and slipped the other behind the small of her back. Monique began to sweat from the sudden heat coming from Alba’s furnace of a body.

“And you are so bad at lying that insulting would be a compliment.”

Her hand glowed briefly, and Monique’s belly deflated.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on? Stop it! What are you doing?!”

“Something to piss you off.”

“I-- Is that all?”

“Pfft, like I’d let you off that easy. Babe, we are going to have so much fun!”

Alba grabbed Monique’s arms and tugged her into a stall.

“By the way, if you tell Hilda about any of this, I’ll fucking kill you ‘till you’re dead.”


“Shut up.”

Alba half-pushed, half-placed Monique on the toilet, and hastily sat on her lap. Monique was a chemistry set of emotions. Alba took a deep breath, as if to say “let’s start over” and then played with Monique’s hair. Her other hand was gently placed very high on Monique’s thigh.

“Babe, you are so utterly and royally screwed, I hope you realize that. I mean, I don’t really have a way to justify what I’m going to do to you, but you have a good enough list of sins to call it karma.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sloth, for one. Besides that, you’re a pathological liar, and a bit of a perv to be honest. I mean, just how many times did you steal other girls’ underwear in gym class? Forty five, forty six? And you sold a whole bunch of ‘em to that kid who turned out to be a sex offender, so the cards aren’t really stacked in your favor on this. Sorry!”

“Wha- I- H-How do you know that?!”

“I’m a fucking demon, do you really need to ask?”

Alba’s hand glowed as it moved up from Monique’s thigh to her stomach.

“Tell you what, Let me give you back that ‘baby bump’ and then some. I’m thinking that I’ll put a good ol’ curse on you…” Alba moved her fingers in a circle on her belly, “Liquidize all that delicious guilt you’re carrying around into a fluid-- and plop it right in your belly!”

“Oh, god! Please, don’t!”

Alba laughed.

“I wish I could! No, I’m going to put a neat little conduit in your gut. I mean, it’s not as ironic, but you’ll fill up with magicks till you burst, so who cares? Like I said, think of it as karma.”

“Oh, god!”

“Exciting, right? I just figured out how to do it, too!”

Monique tried to pull herself up, but Alba was deceptively heavy. Evil is an incredibly dense material, after all. Alba laughed at the attempt.

“Babe, if I were you --and boy am I glad I’m not-- I would just sit tight and enjoy the ride while it lasts.”

Something stirred deep inside Monique’s abdomen, shifting and moving like an eel. Her stomach, no, her whole body heated up like a fire was kindled and growing in strength.

“Toasty, right?”

Alba rubbed her hand up to the hem of Monique’s dress and dug her dagger-like finger under the cloth. An effortless twitch later, a four inch long rip cascaded up her thigh. Again on the other side, and her dress was utterly ruined. Alba gently grabbed hold of the inner corners of the rips, and with another effortless yank upward, the whole front of Monique’s dress was ripped off like a bandaid.

“I want a better view.”

The fiery stirring grew hotter and larger until Monique’s whole body was practically cooking.

“Am I… glowing?” Monique said.

Indeed she was. It was faint, but a definite purple glow emanated from her belly.

“Well, look at that, your aura is purple. The more you know.”

Monique cringed and clenched her teeth.

“Poor baby, you have a tummy-ache? Let momma kiss it bye-bye.”

The purple glow brightened by just a hair, and a faint gurgle from her belly washed a wave of excitement over Alba, and threw Monique into a sea of terror. Her skin tightened all over, and she grunted impulsively.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

A slight paunch snuck its way forward. Monique glowed just a little brighter. Alba crossed her legs and drummed her fingers on Monique’s thigh.

“Why is it so slow?”

Monique’s brain attempted to process what was happening, but made it about halfway through before calling it a day. Alba sprang to her feet and stormed her way to the counter and hopped on. She shifted from position to position, staring at Monique as the poor victim slowly grew. Her entire body was filling simultaneously, and taking it’s fucking time while it was at it. Monique’s belly grew so slowly it might as well have been really pregnant. Her limbs were clearly stiff, so there was none of the rubbing and exploring that novices typically did, and quite honestly, the pace was so slow it really killed the mood. To sum it up, Alba was totally put off and quite irritated.

“Hurry the fuck up, you stupid conduit!”

Monique’s body was torturously tight, and her limbs slowly straightened outward. It was getting harder to stay seated, especially because her back was pushing against the flusher.

“Umm… Excuse me? Miss, uh, demon lady?”

Alba sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

“It’s Alba.”



“Can, uh, can you please move me out of the stall? I’m getting stuck.”

Monique’s sides were glancing the stall walls, and she was close to getting trapped. Alba sighed again.


Alba hopped off the counter and yanked Monique out of the stall, though the remaining space in the bathroom wasn’t very promising. At least she was finally getting round. She looked like a distorted Vitruvian woman with her comically round body and outstretched limbs. Alba tried to glean something exciting or erotic from it, but it wasn’t really there for her.

“How do people find this sexy?” She mumbled.

Alba paced around Monique as she grew, like a scientist analyzing some data. Her breasts were bigger, but it wasn’t mindblowing. Her ass was in the process of melding into her back, so nothing there. Overall, the sheer rotundity of Monique was underwhelming. Alba grabbed Monique’s arms and wiggled them. No, the squeaking wasn’t hot either. Alba grumbled and ran a fingernail along Monique’s stomach. Sure enough, her skin squealed, as did Monique, in protest. Sure, the terror and misery was hot, but Alba could just as well torture someone without all this stupid waiting around. Alba sighed again.

“Well, color me bored.”

Alba pressed a finger into Monique’s skin, bringing the entranced girl back to her senses and screaming for mercy. That was the best one so far, but again with the torture thing. Alba was at a loss. Alba snapped her fingers and a phone appeared in her hand. She punched in some numbers and listened to the ringer.

“Yo Hilda. No, I don’t care that you’re working right now. No, I’m not moving out. No, I’m not-- you know, just shut up, okay? Listen, I’m inflating this chick right now-- shut up! I’m inflating some chick, and I just don’t get it. What? What do you mean I ‘can’t go around inflating people’ I’ll do whatever I want! Listen, what about it is so sexy to you? No, this is an appropriate phone conversation. Because I said it is. Just answer my question! For fuck’s sake, you can’t not know! It’s your fetish! I don’t care that I’m repeating everything you’re saying! Fuck you!”

Alba hung up the most bewildering conversation Monique had ever witnessed and sighed again. Monique was still growing, and nearly half of her limbs were swallowed up by her body. Her breasts were decently assimilated, and her body looked about five feet across.

“Man, that glowing is annoying. How you doing?”

Monique attempted a shrug. “Alright, I guess. I’m not really going to explode, am I?”

“With any hope, you will. But at this rate, I really don’t know.”

It was amazing how relaxing it was to watch your supposed dominatrix stumble over every possible hurdle to your demise. It could even be called therapeutic.

Alba sat on the counter and dejectedly stared at Monique.

“You’re not scared?”

“Well, I know I should be. But I don’t really feel like I’m in any danger. I just sort of figure you’ll mess it up and I’ll be fine.”

“Fucking fantastic.”

“Do you want me to act scared?”


“Come on, I could scream a bit, beg for my soul or something?”

“Why would I want your crappy soul?”

The last bits of Monique’s limbs sank into her body, leaving her just a sphere with two hands and feet, with a head on top. She just barely graced the ceiling.

“That’s not the point-- and could you roll me forward a bit?”

Alba shrugged and obliged her request, then hopped back on the counter.

“Thanks. Anyway, I could just act scared. Would that make you feel better?”

Alba pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them. “...I guess, yeah.”

“Ahem… Oh god! God, help me! Please, someone! I’m so tight! My skin feels like a drum! I-- ah, ah, oh god! I don’t know how much bigger I can get! I could burst at any second!”

Alba tried to hide the smile growing on her face, but just couldn’t help it.

“Okay, fine. I feel a little better.”

“See? That’s better.”

Monique’s body pushed against the ceiling and bulged outward. Her skin began to creak.

“You know, I actually kind of like the purple glow. It’s soothing.”

“I… guess it looks kind of nice… in a stupid way.”

“See? I knew you-- liked it. Oh, oh the pressure just kicked up to eleven. Nnng, I thought it was tight before!”

“Boy, were you wrong.”

“I-- ooh, jeez. I uh, I really-- am going to p--op am I?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Is th-there at least… Some-- way I can s-slow it down?” Monique’s face was dark red. Her body was groaning all over and the purple glowing was getting brighter and brighter.

“Not any slower than it is right now.”

“Haah-- Have to say, this-- kinda sucks.”

“I bet.”

“Mm, I really think this it!”

“You really look big.”

“Nnng, Alba! Please, stop it! I don’t-- want to-- Alba! Are you-- even paying attention! I’m doing ev--erything I can here!”

Alba sighed again. “Fine. Ha ha ha. You’ll meet your doom. I’m evil.”

The groaning was getting unbearable.

“Come-- on! Alba I’m tr--ying to make you feel-- better! The least you could do-- is.. Is...oh, man! Ah! Ow! Ow! Alba, just-- try to at least--”

That’s the furthest Monique got. Unfortunately, she really did explode, like Alba thought she would. And it was a good and big boom, at least. Not devastating, but pretty loud. Monique’s skin was scattered all over the place, and the entire room was filled with a soft purple glow.

“Man, that sucked.”

Alba dejectedly hopped off the counter and sighed before snapping her fingers and vanishing. Seconds later, the curious crowd burst through the door. It was a good thing Alba got out of there when she did, or else would have been quite the explanation to have to give. Especially the part where some people suddenly grew antlers, or turned into toads, or shot fire out of their fingers as the magicks dissipated from the room. Don’t worry, it was only temporary.

Author's Note: 

Hooray, another Alba story. Pretty lazy and not very well written, but written in full nonetheless. Sorry for the story length.

Average: 3.7 (10 votes)
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