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The Balloonatrix

By Medkit for Lipbumper1

Squirk-sqrk! Rrt-krk!

“Mmnf! Mmrrm…"

It was early in the morning and the distant sound of her phone buzzing against the surface of the stainless steel cabinet shocked her awake from a lovely dream abruptly. Her naked pale-tan ankle thrust against the enormous tan balloon she was resting on.

rRRK!

“MMmmph! Mrmhm…"

Miranda groggily wiped her shoulder-length black-brown hair out of her pale face, groaning as the pungent scent of masculine ball sweat and rubber struck her nostrils.

“Ahh, what's that smell?" She murmured, wearily tossing and turning on the cushion-y but ill-balanced oblong orb she was resting on. The cushioned ceiling Miranda had installed was coming in handy, she thought as she gazed up at the hot-pink rubbery tile above her. Her inflated bed whimpered weakly as she squirmed, sitting upright. Her petite feet brushed against her captive's bloated face, urging them to whimper and squirm. It was a profoundly pointless action, all it did was make his taut, ballooned body creak and groan.

Miranda sighed as she peered over at her still noisily vibrating phone, laying screen-up on a shiny chrome cabinet filled with all sorts of gags, ties and equipment for her favorite kink. Her basement was an inflationist's dream. Then she gazed down at her groin, thighs and legs. She was sunk into the rubbery skin-tone coloured orb she sat on. She snickered and teased herself idly, running her fingers across the taut flesh noiselessly.

“Mmph? Mrmmh… Hrmph!" Her living toy whined. “Shhh. Inflatable beds don't talk." Miranda chided in a subtly authoritative tone.

She'd had her twenty sixth birthday just over a month ago, but looked as young as she did fresh out of community college. Her hazel eyes and pale almond face attacted a lot of attention, but her curvascious-yet-lithe frame made her the object of many men's obsessions. Miranda had turned that charm into a tool to control men, in a way she herself found deeply sexually gratifying. To put it bluntly, she made a hobby out of being a dominatrix. And now that she'd discovered her love for inflating men, as she astutely put it, she considered herself the one and only Balloonatrix. Ordinarily clad in shiny black latex, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her favourite thing to do was to turn men into her bloated playthings.

Still getting her bearings, Miranda slowly realized the odd sensation underneath her had come from her inflatable bed's inflated penis. Colin, as that had been the man's name before he'd wound up her balloon, had his overinflated shaft taped down to his ball-shape abdomen. The procedure that had turned his inflated predicament into a permanent lifestyle had also resulted in his entire form becoming rubbery and hollow, utterly inorganic and unlike any ordinary human being. It made his air-filled shaft distort strangely, flattened and spread across his waist by wrinkly shiny transparent tape.

His tormentor shifted her weight as she spent a bit of time, idly enjoying the sights and smells of her dungeon. Occasionally, the living balloon beneath her creaked, groaned and whimpered. All in vain. Colin had given up on serious resistance only a couple of days into his newfound predicament. Kicking his overinflated bulging balloons of hands and feet only served to humiliate him more.

Miranda had turned Colin into her personal plaything around four months ago now. He'd stiffed her after his last session and claimed he'd pay her for both after a second. But after trying to stiff her a second time, Miranda got wise and let the tank do the hard work. With a resounding pop, he lost his ability to return to normality without some serious outside help. And with his balloonatrix having a private workshop set up, there was some doubt that he'd ever get free.

Miranda leaned back, sighing as she inhaled the rich smell in the air. The warm rubbery texture of ballooned flesh was enthralling to her. It's touch was something like a fusion of inorganic and organic, hollow and taut and buoyant and squeaky, but yet… warm and soft.

The taped-down appendage beneath her was throbbing and warmer than the rest. The supple cockflesh had turned into tender balloon vinyl, ultra sensitive and yet incapable of climax as her fingertips gingerly stroked the exposed head.

Squirrrrrrrrrrrrrrk!

“Mmmph?! Mmhh…" Colin whimpered. She didn't bother looking at his dumb freckled face very often anymore, which didn't surprise him. Colin's lips had been pulled into a cartoonishly long balloon-like nozzle, tied up into a knot that kept the air from escaping. It was the only orifice capable of properly releasing a serious volume of air, but Miranda usually took care to plug up other holes. It often led to a tighter fill, a wider balloon and a creakier toy for her to torment.

The walls, floor and ceiling of the dungeon were all kitted out with smooth, foam padding. Miranda had spared no expense, spending every dime of her newest balloon's wealth on carefully portioned out purchases made to improve her dream cave. The furniture was all durable steel, with as few sharp corners as possible. Almost everything in the room was bevelled, although she did keep a lot of sharp and pointy props around, just for teasing. Almost all of them were dulled, just in case.

The smell of her balloons was what probably excited her the most. The way in which men's flesh turned to the surreal fusion of rubber and skin left it pungent, smelling much like latex or vinyl but merged with the salty and unique aroma of the individual's natural body odours. Each balloon had a unique smell, but it was always intoxicating. Her eyelids fluttered as she drank in the rich aroma, resting her head on the overinflated sack of her ginger toy. Colin hadn't been shaved, so he still retained his wiry red pubes and shaved red hair. She'd considered shaving it all off and painting him a couple of times, but resisted. It was nice to have a more 'organic' looking toy around, sometimes.

Sqrrrk!-squirk!-squrk-squrik! Prt! Rrrk!

“Mrmphh…"

Miranda brushed her shoulder-length silky dark brown hair over her shoulder and slowly slid herself down her creaky plaything's sides, her dainty toes reaching the foam-padded basement floor. The enormous blemished pale-skinned balloon creaked and groaned, a muffled moan escaping from her new inflatable bed's swollen face.

The ginger-haired balloon's face was stuck in a dumb expression of surprise with his freckled cheeks overinflated. Plugs sat in the balloons' nostrils and ears. His greenish-blue eyes were half-lidded, gazing into Miranda's hazel ones.

“That's good, you've given up on being human." She muttered with a slight grin on her pale lips. Miranda had noted a significant decrease in resistance over the last four weeks especially. Nowadays, it seemed Colin had accepted his fate. Miranda's warm and soft fingers gently patted Colin's puffy face. He blushed, but there was little else he could do.

“Well! I think you've gotten a little smelly again, so I guess it's time to deflate you and wash you. I've got a client coming by later, so I guess I'll just leave you deflated and rolled up for a while." Miranda casually exposited as her fingers reached for the absurd knot Colin's lips had been warped into.

Colin was pretty used to this dehumanizing routine by now. Her fingers easily undid the knot it'd made about five days ago. The air within him began to force its way out of his face, his lips humiliatingly flapping as he loudly began to deflate like some enormous party balloon.

Pffffffffffffrrrrrrrrrrpppppptttttt!

As the air poured out of him, Colin's body gradually sank into itself. His overinflated hands and feet became droopy, hollow and saggy. His whimpers grew weaker and weaker, as Miranda let out a relieved sigh, peering over her shoulder at the enormous blue orb filling the other side of the space.

She looked back over at Colin, watching the large ginger balloon slowly crumple into itself. “You know, maybe I should treat you to the same redecorating I did with Jake…" Miranda thoughtfully peered over her shoulder at the large blue sphere.

Jake had been her first balloonification victim. It was known to be a possibility within the sphere of online inflationists; It was an ordinarily rare effect of a few body-modifying drugs that enabled inflation. If you went too far, it caused a severe and often permanent transformation of the body's natural anatomy. Of course, up until her acident with Jake, Miranda wasn't sure if it was even possible. But she'd seen first hand what balloonification was, now. And she'd done it to Colin on purpose; Something that was definitely questionable legally and morally. But, in her mind, this was a suitable punishment.

Seeing what was left of Jake made her shiver with excitement. There was nothing left of his old identity. Every client had no clue what the big blue orb was. Most assumed it was a prop, some kind of erotic idea of what they'd be looking more like once they took a pill and stuffed a hose up their rear. Little did they know, Miranda was a proud owner of a balloonified man; And a willing one at that.

Jake had come to Miranda when she used the moniker Domina, at the time she'd only just started her exploration into inflation-related dom work. He'd quickly turned into a favourite routine customer, always hoping she'd inflate him larger and larger. Well, he'd gotten his wish. She went too far one day and now, this was his life. She'd taken it a step further to really bring his fantasy to life for him, as he spared no expense to ensure it. Now, almost a full year later… Jake was just a big round blue balloon.

Miranda brought Jake home and washed him after buying him back from the car dealership she'd initially sold him off to. Miranda felt a mixture of guilt and regret about how she'd treated Jake and knowing the balloon was happy to be hers, she was happy to be its owner. Since then, she'd gone to great efforts to ensure her favourite toy was kept well-maintained and happy.

“What a good balloon you make, Jake… I'm really liking how that new polish makes you sparkle!" She said to the large round blue orb. It gently creaked and turned in the cool air of the room, unresponsive as usual. Jake was still sentient, but he'd accepted his new role as her balloon whole-heartedly. Plus it was sort of pointless to try to communicate unless it was absolutely necessary. The most he could manage was a deep whimper that could serve as a simple yes or no to various questions. Jake enjoyed being immersed in his fantasy; Reduced to Miranda's property, just a ball of air for her to do what she liked with.

Colin had no idea the blue sphere was even another person until after his own unfortunate transformation. The day after the balloonatrix had turned him into a glorified living bubble, he woke from a euphoric daydream about being a party balloon to find himself still trapped in Miranda's basement, to her voice gently speaking to the large blue decoration.

From what Colin gathered, Jake was either a boyfriend or some willing client of hers. She'd somehow made him look so incredibly inhuman, he didn't even parse as a person anymore. The efforts she'd gone to make him indiscernible from an ordinary balloon was mind-boggling, although apparently that balloon-like nozzle was some weird side-effect from some product she'd used on him as part of their little plan. Either way, it was always treated better than him. The idea of winding up as identity-less as that blue orb was shudder-inducing to think about, at least in Colin's mind.

His fantasy had always been more of a flipped situation, so to discover he was also into being reduced to some powerful women's wiggling balloon toy was a pleasant surprise. It was one of the few things that made being Miranda's prisoner manageable. Being a balloon felt pleasant, even if he spent most of his time mindlessly deflated. As the air rushed out of his swollen hollow body, his pudgy fingers and hands began to grow droopy, weak and crumpling.

He remembered the first time she deflated him. Colin had thought, just maybe, that he'd return to normal. Instead, he was filled with a mix of arousal and horror as he grew increasingly exhausted. His hands folded over themselves, floppy and empty like a pair of overstretched latex gloves. He crumpled into a pile of deflated rubbery flesh seconds later, left in a dreamless, mindless state.

Colin's thoughts grew increasingly distant as he enviously gazed up at Miranda and her blue balloon, cursing them in his mind as he slowly accepted his deflation. The last of the air inside his crumpling body poured out of his stretched lips in a weak, pathetic whistle.

“Mmm, did you say something Colin? Swear, I heard you moan about wanting me to stomp you flat. Maybe one day, loser!" Miranda teased as she walked past the deflating heap and towards her latest client, Benjamin.

Benjie, as she affectionately called her newest client, was currently inflated to the point of immobility. His tanned body was a pleasant and uniform shininess and tautness, laying on his bloated back with his face staring up at a cute glowing lamp Miranda had installed to keep the room interesting for her toys. Benjamin, unlike Miranda's other two toys, wasn't a permanent addition to her growing collection. At least, not yet.

Miranda had toyed with the idea of turning Benjie into her third permanent balloon a few times over the last few visits. Benjie came by every second week, almost as regularly as Jake had. And unlike Colin, Benjie actually earned his place as her toy.

Mostly because she found it delightfully hot, how the muscular blonde was cheating on his fiance with her, all because he enjoyed fantasizing about being turned into her balloon. Of course, Benjie kept his kink for inflation a secret from her too. Although, Miranda did wonder how well a secret it was kept. Benjie had sort of a big mouth, especially when it came to talking to his work buddies about Miranda's talents. She'd already taken a couple of one-off referrals from some of his coworkers; Tourists seeking a one-night-stand as a toy.

Miranda idly teased Benjie's inflated genitals. It was her favourite part of male toys; Toying with their parts. Benjie's nipples were a new favourite, but his phallus and balls were so full of air, they made a delightfully pleasant set of soft squishy air-filled bits to toy with. She loved to feel the taut rubbery texture of his tautly inflated peen squeak against her fingers, toying with it a few times until Benjie weakly moaned.

“Pleaase, you have to do it to me tonight…" Benjie grunted weakly, his body creating a cacophony of squeaks as the bloated balloon of a man tried to sit up, failing pitifully.

“Oh, just relax… You'll get what you need soon enough. Have you decided what colour you want to be, Benjie?" Miranda teased, smooching his ballooned hand's back. Her fingers toyed with his, interlocking with his air-filled digits. She thought about how they'd change when he was pushed past his limit, creaking out of control and swelling into a permanent blimp. The thought alone turned her into a horny mess, pushing herself against his swollen flesh, squeaking it against her breasts.

“Oooh, mmnff… It feels so nice when you do that!" Benjie muttered, barely discernible thanks to his own inflated body muffling his speech.

“Just wait until you're mine, like Jake!" She teased again, stroking his rubbery belly with a single finger. The delightful creak of his rubbery flesh made them both giggle.

“I'm already yours! Mmnff, maybe as well grab that hose and finish me off…" Jake said with a snicker, his creaking body stiffly squeaking as he wiggled his inflated feet. The manuever was enough to make his whole bloated body creak a little noisily.

Meanwhile, Colin sputtered the last of his air and went as flat as he usually was. Miranda would spend a little more time idly toying with her two inflated toys, before returning to roll up the flattened man. He resembled a carpet roll after a few quiet moments of being rolled. leaning against a wall in Miranda's inflation dungeon, there was no sign he was ever a person. He was more like a fleshy, rubbery, poster.

She went and got herself breakfast and just after nine in the morning she heard her doorbell ring.

That's strange, I don't have any appointments. Walk-ins usually call first. Miranda thought, gulping back the last of her coffee and pulling up from the dining table. She threw a silken gown across her naked body and rushed to see who was at her door.

Peering through the spyglass, it was some thin young woman with a dirty-blonde pixie cut. She was waiting with her arms crossed.

Hmmm… Maybe she's here about a noise complaint or something? Miranda thought hesitantly. Either way, the strange woman didn't seem dangerous. She opened the door a crack and the woman reacted by blushing and scrambling to attention.

“Hey! Hey, are you… Balloonatrix?" The woman's shrill voice demanded to know, an emotive creak in her inquisitive tone.

“A-ah, Y-yes?" Miranda hesitantly replied, a little confused. Is this my first female client? She pondered as the woman suddenly charged her!

Miranda was caught off guard, the more athletic woman pushing through the door before she could do more than gawk!

“BEN?! BEN, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH! WHERE ARE YOU?!" The woman screamed from the top of her lungs as she pushed past Miranda and into the hall.

Abigail, I presume. Miranda thought as she picked herself up. The woman looked around the kitchen, then spun and turned on Miranda.

“Where the fuck is that cheating shithead!" She shrieked as she approached Miranda with rage written across her tightened jaw and white knuckles.

“H-He's downstairs! Okay, I'm sorry, I-" Miranda shut her mouth. She knew if she wasn't careful, Benjie's partner would throw all that unbridled rage at her. So, she simply followed her down the steps of the basement to her partner. From the angle they came at him from, his head was visible, tilted up at the ceiling as the two came down the stairs abruptly.

“Uh-oh, fuck! Miranda! Miranda, you've got to call the police-" Benjie exclaimed as soon as he heard his wife's shrieking from the top of the stairs.

“YOU! You lying simp, I can't believe you'd do this to me Ben! First you tell me you have some bullshit new work meeting every other Saturday. Then I catch that weird latex smell on your clothes after you come home. I investigated your computer, you asshole. I found your stash of weird balloon porn and now her?! Can't fucking believe you!" Abigail angrily roared as she thrust her palms against her bloated fiance, sending him boyantly bouncing against the wall behind him, before creakind and groaning under the pressure she applied to his puffy swollen shoulders.

Miranda was just happy she'd gone to all the effort to make her inflation dungeon a 'safe space' for her balloons. She sat on the stairwell and put her head in her hands, trying to think of a way to quickly end this turmoil. But, all the same, she felt guilty about what she'd done to Abigail. And worse, looking at the roll that was Colin… If she wasn't careful, this intruder into her home could do more than damage some rubbery ceiling tiles.

“Just, look! It's, it's not my fault, I didn't-"

“Shut UP! You stupid fucking balloon! We were going to have kids together! Y-You helped pay for my grandma's funeral!" Abigail bellowed, taking a moment to pant and gather herself. She was red in the face, eyes welling with tears as she leaned on her bloated ball of a partner. Benjie let out muffled whimpers as his face pressed against the floor.

“And YOU!" Abigail shouted as she raised a finger to gesture at the balloonatrix. She was short, 5'3" or so. Younger than Miranda. With short dirty-blonde hair and green-blue eyes.

“What? I just did what he asked." Miranda replied instinctively and meekly, sitting almost curled up on the stairs.

“Fuck you! Okay? You enabled him! Alright…" Abigail huffed as she wiped her tears and drool away on the sleeve of her shirt.

Miranda couldn't comfort her. She was responsible for his cheating to a significant degree… Something she felt exceptionally guilty about now.

“Look… Here's what I want you to do. Fucking, make him uh… Make him bigger." She growled.

“... What?" Miranda responded, baffled by the hysterical woman

“Just, do what I fucking said! Okay?!" Abigail snapped.

Does… does she not know that this is something he wants, or… is this an act or something? Miranda thought, initially dismissive of the woman's request. She got up and made her way around the familiar space, fetching a modified bicycle pump and approaching Abigail with a nervous look on her face.

Your not even going to try and stop her?! Benjie thought, whining as Miranda stuffed the pump's nozzle inbetween his puffy asscheeks. His face pressed a little harder against the rubbery tile as the hose pushed deep into his behind, until he felt it reach his hollow insides.

Krrrk-rrt! Psshhh… Pssshhhh…

Miranda gulped as she steadily began to push down and pull up on the pump. This would hopefully take long enough to wear her out and end Abigail's self-destructive desire to turn her partner into a blimp. After all, as much as it was a fantasy to Miranda, she didn't really want another balloon. Especially not knowing the cat was out of the bag, now. It was like the fantasy of Benjie cheating on a trusting partner for her was now falling apart underneath her, throwing the balloonatrix into the crossfire of her own stupid mistake.

Benjie whimpered with increasing desperation as he felt each pump force air into his body, making it all around tighter with each and every descent of the pump's handle. He could tell that Miranda was taking it easy from experience. She was way more frantic when she and him were alone.

That being said, he could tell he was fuller than he usually was. It wouldn't take long for Miranda to push him further than he'd ever gone before. Just a few more pumps. The pressure felt so incredibly pleasant, stretching his taut body as far as it could go. But he knew he had more stretch left in him.

Another pump, then another.

“Hmmmph! This is taking too long and it looks like he's enjoying himself!" Abigail angrily stated to Miranda, like it was her responsibility to change things. Miranda wasn't really sure what to do about her. She couldn't really afford to call the cops… She certainly didn't want to do something to Abigail, but pretty soon she might have to do something.

She held her tongue before she could fly off the handle on the woman, instead taking a moment to breathe deeply. That was all the time it took for Abigail to swipe the pump out of her hands. The nozzle slipped free from Benjie's behind, a rush of air following for a brief moment before the plump cheeks sealed off the airflow again. His body had become significantly more orb-like in the few minutes of pumping that he'd endured. Miranda couldn't help but note his status with caution. Knowing how long it took to do the same to Jake and Colin, Benjie wasn't long for balloonification.

“What are you doing?!" Miranda suddenly gasped as Abigail tossed the pump aside and began to rummage through a tall metal cabinet. It was filled with three enormous tanks of gas.

“What I fucking want! If this is what that prick wants, then he can have it!" Abigail yelled almost incoherently, grabbing a tank full of helium and dragging it towards Benjie. She passed right by Jake and Colin, ignorant of the two men's fates.

Colin was in a strange dream-like state, barely comprehending the fighting going on. Too flat to focus. Jake on the other hand, was well aware and concerned about the turmoil. But being a perfectly round ball of air made it difficult to do anything.

Miranda snapped. She rushed over to grab Abigail's shoulder but her toe got caught on a raised edge of the foam flooring, sending her falling forward. The weight pulling on Abigail sent her careening towards Miranda, tank-in-hand as it swung towards her face.

With a sudden thunk, Miranda collapsed onto the floor with a feminine groan, knocked unconscious by the brief connection with the tank. Abigail managed to catch it before it could do any more harm than that, but the damage was done. She stood stunned, struggling to lift the tank upwards as she glanced at the woman's unconscious body.

That's the stank that Benjie cheated on me with. What a bitch. And what's with this place? She's such a freak. Abigail thought, ignoring the strange flustering feeling she felt as she sat the tank aside.

Her mind raced with chaotic ideas on how to exact her revenge. It also didn't take long for her body to move almost on its own, rummaging through the available supplies at hand in Miranda's inflation dungeon…

In the meanwhile, Miranda dreamt of a miraculous flight over New York City in a hot air balloon carriage held up by dozens of inflated submissives, all moaning and whimpering as they swelled under the early morning sun. Her unconscious body shuddered against new restraints. She suddenly awoke as one of her balloons popped.

“Whmmph! Mmrpph?" Miranda whined into a gag, waking up bound in a folding chair. The knots weren't hers, too crude and messy to be her handiwork. She heard a familiar toned whimper and peered up to see that Benjie was far more inflated than she remembered. His hands and feet had begun to balloon like gloves and socks, swelling up and overtaking the attached digits with their swelling gas-filled rubbery flesh. The smell and noise of rubber creaking emanated from his tan body.

“Ah, looks like you finally woke up!" Abigail said with a twisted snicker. She stepped into view, holding the tank in her hands as she tapped on the pressure gauge.

“Not much longer now and he'll be an air-headed balloon for the rest of his life. Good fucking riddence." She said in a shrill, angry tone.

Benjie knew he was in trouble. He'd never felt this tight before. Miranda had toyed with him, teasing him with his fantasy of leaving ordinary life behind to become a balloon… But the thought of actually committing to that? Really giving up his privileged life and power? No way.

But now, it seemed like the light of his life had caught wind of his secrets and realized the truth of the situation. Benjie was afraid of this fantasy of his turning into his reality. At least, that's what Abigail was putting all her money on. She figured turning him into a forever-blimp would remove him from her life as a romantic problem, but her feelings clouded and distorted her perception of reality in such a way that turning him into a balloon seemed like the resolution to all of her problems.

Miranda wanted to yell, to tell her to stop before it was too late. But it was pointless. She couldn't speak with the gag in her mouth and even if she was able, it wouldn't dissuade Abigail. Her situation would be so much more comfortable if only it wasn't happening in her house, with her property, and of course, to one of HER clients!

Benjie was cute, but he had a life of his own. That was what Miranda loved about him. Teasing him with the idea of turning him into her toy forever was specifically hot because of how impossible that commitment seemed to both of them.

But now? Now, it was fast becoming a reality. Benjie's voice was muffled, creaking and groaning rubber stretching was the most common noise. His ballooned toes squeaked as they inflated to such a point that they closer resembled little balloons of their own. His rotund body was fast expanding to the point of criticality, straining him past human shape and forever altering his physiology.

Crrrrrk-grrn! Sqirk-squeak! Krrrrkkk! Sqrrrk!

N-not gonna… Last much longer like this! Fuck, she's… Really going to do it… Benjie thought, his intolerable arousal overtaking his guilt and even his fear as his body swelled outside of his control. He felt like one huge sheet of rubber surrounding an ever-increasing bubble of air. It was pushing all of his human traits out. Smoothening him into one big sphere of a person. It felt so hot but, the results… Becoming inhuman forever. Being unable to be autonomous… And goodness forbid, he be treated like that blue orb. Just a decoration.

Benjie's body reeked of rubber as it swelled to the point of no return. Miranda could just gawk, bleary-eyed as her newest client's body grew red with strain. Odd lines spread across his waistline, a tell-tale sign that soon, Benjie would be just like Colin or Jake.

The sphere of a man was letting out deep groans and whimpers that sounded more like a whale's moan, now.

POW!

It came suddenly, unexpectedly.

Benjie couldn't believe what just happened. It was so fast. This sensation like the pressure building up inside him was reaching it's limit. His body was spread thin, a supple rubber shell becoming as taut as a drum thanks to the gas filling him. He was starting to lift off the floor, his buoyancy finally beating his natural body weight. This feeling of tense fullness was almost euphoric, blindingly mind-boggling and leaving Benjie incapable of much beyond idle squeaking, groaning and muffled moans.

His body went too far past its natural limit, and what the elasticity pill allowed for. The man's ballooned spherical waistline turned red and pink before suddenly, his ballooned extremities and body overall pushed out in all directions by about four feet!

His dull pale-tan skin turned oddly glossy, stretched thin and more rubbery than flesh, reflecting the sudden loss of humanity the unfortunate man-turned-balloon was actively experiencing. The pungent smell of cheap latex mixed with Benjie's nutty body aroma flooded the room.

All at once, Benjie's anatomy was forever changed by the strain of his body growing too tight through over-inflation. He was spread thin, rubbery and hollow and that feeling was inescapable.

And he'd be stuck this way forever. Like an elastic band snapping, Benjie had become more a balloon than a human being, allowing his hollow rubbery shell of a body to swell like latex, thanks to the elasticity pill's unique effects once this stage had been reached. Without some serious effort, reversion would be impossible.

As much as the thought of all these terrible drawbacks would ordinarily scary someone, it was arousal that hit him in tidal wave after tidal wave. Pure arousal left his useless novelty of an inflated phallus throbbing pitifully and impotently, his sack swelling with a sudden Psssshhhh!

The muffled balloon's moans didn't impact Abigail's decision. She just laughed at her stupid-looking cheating partner with a mix of disdain and… Miranda would've gasped if it weren't for the gag. She's… into this?

They both watched the spectacle unfold as Benjie continued to expand outwards in all directions, reducing him to a six-foot across sphere of taut, nearly-transluscent skin-tone flesh. His puffy arms and legs had stretched, creaking and groaning as they ceased to even resemble limbs. They looked more like domes or bowls pressed on the spherical balloon that was Benjie's body.

Benjie couldn't help but feel a bit overcome by several emotions at once as he swelled past the point of recognition. His cheeks puffed out, then his ears. His whole form was so full of gas, he felt like he was barely himself.

Krrrrk-rrt! Krrrk… Grrn-squirk! Squeak! Pssshhh…

The steady hiss of the gas pouring into Benjie's ever-expanding form was a constant background noise to the symphony of embarrassingly inhuman noises coming from Benjie's taut rubbery balloon of a body. He felt more like some strange decoration than a person, now. Thinking was getting difficult. The bliss of being spread so impossibly thin, feeling himself so stiff with gas that an overzealous poke could pop him, was incredible and well beyond anything he thought he deserved. Even if Abigail popped him, Benjie accepted his fate.

Miranda squirmed weakly in her restraints, shocked at how marvellous an orb Benjie made. She was just angry she hadn't been the one responsible for doing this to him. She'd made up all sorts of plans on what to do with him, but it seemed Abigail would have the last laugh. Although, as the hysterical woman gingerly squeezed the handle of the tank closed, the hiss slowly went silent and left the room mostly quiet, save for the idle moans and whimpers from the two balloons in Miranda's basement.

Abigail let out a relieved sigh. “You're so much easier to handle like this, Benj."

She looked over at Miranda, spying the brunette dominatrix attempting to escape her binds.

“You'll be next, bitch." She growled as she approached a metal drawer nearby, rumming through to fetch a few corks.

Miranda watched as she tried in vain to squirm out of the silken bondage rope tying her to the chair. Abigail went to work, stuffing a cork into any of Benjie's hissing orifices, leaving the enormous living balloon stuck in their overinflated state. He barely even resembled himself anymore, looking like some weird art student's project rather than a person. Little did he know that the large blue sphere of an orb across the room from him was also someone like him.

“There! Happy now, you dumb balloon?" Abigail said with a relieved sigh. Her former partner couldn't do much aside from creak and groan, but that wasn't really up to him anyway.

Miranda watched curiously as Abigail began to take her time with Benjie. At first, she was just poking and prodding her nearly translucent ex. The poor balloon whimpered and whined, sure it was bound to burst at any moment.

Squirk! Krrrrkk… Squirk!

“Mmphh, mmrmph!"

But it seemed, Benjie was more durable than he thought. Abigail pressed herself against her partner's ballooned crotch, hugging it against her clothed breasts. Miranda caught the woman blushing, clearly hiding a newly kindled passion. Maybe I can work this to my advantage, somehow. She thought, mostly giving up on her failed attempt to escape Abigail's surprisingly tight knots.

That was when Abigail opened a particularly large metal cabinet. At first, Miranda didn't think much of it. It was a ton of hobby remoulding materials. She'd briefly considered making her own latex gear for a while but had left the stuff in the garage for a long time. Recently, Miranda had cleaned it up and organized it in her dungeon for simplicity's sake. But now, Abigail was digging through it, setting pieces aside until…

There was a loud thwak as a large black picture album flopped out of the cabinet and onto the floor, pages spread with photos featuring the Balloonatrix herself, naked and crawling on Benjie and three other men, all heavily inflated.

“W-what is…" Abigail's eyes narrowed at the familiar shape of her cheating ex's face in one of the revealed photos. Miranda was kissing him on the air-filled cheek, casually lounging on his bloated chest. She shrieked in frustration and kicked the book aside, then ran to a drawer filled with various tools Miranda applied in her sessions with her clients.

She grabbed an entire pill bottle filled with the elasticity pills Miranda used. They were an older kind, removed from sale a year ago because of some of their bizarre side effects. Of course, that wasn't on her mind as she emptied a handful into her palm and rushed towards Miranda with purpose.

Fuck, fuck! Miranda thought, glancing over at Benjie to see his anxious air-filled face gazing back at her with a flustered expression. Dammit, I need help! How am I going to get out of here in one piece? Miranda thought, her heart fluttering as Abigail reached her.

She dropped a pill or two in the process of hastily undoing the balloonatrix's gag, but Abigail didn't care. As soon as Miranda's mouth parted, a trio of small and familiar pills were tossed into her throat. She gulped hard to get them down, more an effort to avoid choking than to resist. She'd already messed up by not shutting her mouth fast enough.

Miranda coughed and tired to gag, but she was never good at forcing herself to regurgitate. The pills slipped down her esophagus and undoubtedly began to rapidly dissolve in her stomach, meaning she had little time before she was just as vulnerable as her balloons.

Of course, Miranda was too confident to realize… She was already more than vulnerable. Abigail wasn't a fool and knew she'd have to wait until the pills kicked in. She tightened some knots then laughed at her captive.

“You know, you really do deserve this for what you've done. I bet this isn't even the first time you've done this." She growled as she cinched a knot a little tighter.

“What of it? They all begged me for it. It's not my fault you dated a cheating liar!" Miranda spouted, only to get the gag stuffed back into her mouth. She sighed into the gag and watched as Abigail fetched a particularly large industrial vacuum out of one of the spacious dungeon's corners. Normally Miranda used it to suck up scraps of torn clothing after particularly exuberant sessions, or sometimes to deflate her clients in a hurry, but it seemed by the purpose Abigail walked with, she'd found a place for it in her esoteric revenge plan.

She plugged in the vacuum and wheeled it across the foam flooring, careful to watch her footing as she reached her creaking target. With a swift motion, she stiffly pulled the cork from Benjie's mouth and stuffed the hose against them!

With a loud wheeze, the vacuum was turned on and began to suck the gas out of Benjie!

For a few seconds, Benjie was convinced that his girlfriend had made a change of heart. Possibly, she was planning to leave with him intact.

But as his body deflated, becoming increasingly droopy, heavy… deflated and empty, he was reminded of how unfortunately, his status as a balloon was not dependent on the substance filling him. His hands were flat and droopy, like dull balloon vinyl. The faint gloss faded away, left with a dull gleam that reflected what Benjie had become. He weakly tried to grab the hose and tug it off his mouth, but it was a failed effort, he was too weak. His arms collapsed, his blobby body flopping onto the floor. His hands went flat, thin and rubbery around the hose as his whole body began to flatten out, so stretched out by his expansion that his body was left a big stretched-out pile of rubber. He was getting too light-headed to think as the last of the air sucked out of his half-deflated head, the hose finally popping off his lips and thudding to the floor, as Abigal switched the vacuum off and walked across his wide, flattened form.

His body was like squishy warm latex under her feet, two pads of pressure that walked across his groggy, half-concious form. As she stepped off, Benjie slipped into a strange dreamy sleep, brought on by his airlessness.

Miranda was shocked. This was the sort of behaviour she reserved for people like Colin. Her eyes darted to the ginger-haired roll next to the stairwell. She wasn't the only one in danger if Abigail decided to ruin her. Her stomach gurgled. Already, Miranda could feel subtle hints that the pills were working.

“You know, I heard those pills you give to your clients are pretty hazardous if you take too many of them," Abigail said as she wheeled the vacuum out of the way.

“Mrrmph!" Miranda whined back, watching as Abigail began to arrange the rubber moulding equipment with a concerning amount of accuracy. Does she work with latex? She wondered as she watched the woman prepare a rubber mould intended for a large inflatable mattress. It'd been split into four pieces but she assembled it in record time, almost like she'd worked in the industry before.

Miranda's mind turned back inwards as she felt her stomach gurgle again. Her resistance was weakening by the minute, sensing that strange rubbery texture starting to spread across her lightly tanned skin. The feeling was slightly ticklish, like her skin's surface was getting oddly sensitive and tight. It wasn't wholly unpleasant but it was certainly impossible to ignore!

Gotta, get out of here before she does something she'll regret… Miranda thought to herself, shrugging in her fabric restraints with a frustrated sigh. Abigail hardly even noticed her, focussing on picking out the rest of her required materials.

“You're gonna make a real good balloon-atrix once I'm done with you, cheating slut!" Abigail yelled at Miranda from across the room as she hysterically coated the interior of the mould with a substance an instructional guide on her phone informed her would work for her intentions.

The thick spray had a pungent chemical odour. It was one of several cans of special solvents and compounds used in the rubber moulding process that Miranda had looked into a while back, but up until now they'd never been used. She'd bought most of the supplies second-hand from a latex crafting place that shuttered a couple of years ago, but it mostly served as decor rather than any sort of practical application.

That was, until now. Miranda felt her skin grow oddly clammy. Dull and shiny. She was as vulnerable as any of her clients, now. The thought made her shudder in a mixture of humiliation and nervousness. The thought of being turned into a balloon like Jake was strangely dehumanizing, and yet also perplexing. Some part of Miranda was curious about how it might feel… But she certainly wasn't curious enough to want to willingly wind up like that!

Abigail made a show of taking her deflated ex-partner and stuffing him into the mould. It took a few repositionings, but eventually Miranda watched as the intruder stuffed her partner into the mould in such a way as to ensure his lips would exit the mould, presumably to make it into a sort of valve.

Following the guide on her phone, Abigail sealed the mould shut using a variety of built-in clamps, the cool hollow metal mould tightly holding Benjie within. The deflated man was far from conscious, floating along a horizon in a dream in which he was just one of many balloons floating into the air above a vast mountain range.

Mmph… What's that feeling? Benjie thought wearily, groggily beginning to wake from the blissful dream to the noise and sensation of a steady stream of compressed air pushing through his lips. Some cold metal nozzle was stuffed into his parted and sealed lips.

Where am I? Where's Miranda and Abigail? Benjie wondered as his body began to fill with air. It still wasn't right. It was hollow, squishy and too weak to do much beyond weakly pushing against the hard cold and slightly slick walls of the mould. He was filling quickly.

Outside of the mould, Abigail gently increased the flow of compressed air. Her sea green eyes watched the PSI on the compressor's gauge go from 100 to 250, then to 500. The sound of the hiss was cathartic, knowing that soon the two people that had in her opinion ruined her life would be little more than her possessions. She could sell them, or keep them to torment them for as long as she desired. The thought brought with it a tantalizing and novel excitement that Abigail was wholly unfamiliar with. A cruel grin spread across her pale pink lips as she adjusted the pressure, increasing it to 800.

Miranda could only gawk. She never knew it'd be so easy to remould one of her balloons, but her concern was also increasing, competing with her intrigue in what Abigail was in the middle of doing.

Clearly, Benjie was in trouble… She could hear the sound of his rubbery body's muffled creaks through the mould, but there wasn't anything Miranda could do about it. She just sighed into her gag and wondered what the outcome of Abigail's experiment would be. Miranda just hoped she could convince her captor not to do the same to her as she was doing with her former-client.

Benjie could feel his hollow squishy vinyl shell of a body swell against the confines of the mould. The substance coating the mould melded with his thin rubbery skin, absorbing into it. Benjie wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but it felt amazing. He was getting spread evenly across the mould, reshaped in such a way that it was growing hard to tell where his hands and feet were in relation to the rest of his body. The pressure internally was translating to pleasure, and being pressed against the cool slick mould's walls was just as pleasant. Before long, the pleasure and pressure combined with a strange warmth. It started across his crotch, then spread to his back, chest. It was hard to follow, but soon Benjie felt extraordinarily comfortable and aroused. As the substance bonded with his form and reshaped him on an invisible level, Benjie couldn't help but lose himself to the intense euphoria of the process, barely even concerned by the likely permanence of his predicament!

Swept up in the surreal and intensely pleasurable sensation of his thin body melting, fusing and reforming, Benjamin hardly cared what would come next. It simply felt too good to let whatever was happening end, if it was even up to him.

From Miranda and Abigail's perspective, there certainly was no way for the cheating ex to escape the confines of the tightly bound mould. The balloonatrix herself had never seen something so profoundly objectifying, and yet… She was more angry that she hadn't figured it out before this total stranger.

Miranda winced as she turned and felt her skin creak as it rubbed against itself. She was certainly more flexible now, but it wasn't aiding her escape. Her resistance overall had taken quite a hit, mostly due to all of the intriguing mysteries unfolding before her eyes. Seeing what Abigail had done to Benjie had actually given her cause to think about her future. Did she want to keep this up? In time, there'd be more people like Abigail. Rightfully pissed at her for turning their lovers into sultry air-filled orbs. The idea was tantalizing in and of itself, but so was the possibility of taking a permanent vacation. The kernel of tasting one's own medicine was at the bottom of this new line of thought.

After all, none of her balloons seemed particularly eager to go back to normal. There was the ginger, but he was a rare exception. Maybe being one wouldn't be so bad.

At least, that's what Miranda was telling herself as she witnessed Abigail casually push the gauge past 800 PSI.

Inside the chamber, the pressure was so great that it became all that Benjie could focus on. The dull roar of the air pouring into him was like the crashing waves at a beach. He felt so warm, so fuzzy and comfortable. No thought came to mind more complicated than airy affirmations of his new self. He'd been reinvented, simplified and now in mind and body, he found himself comfortable with this new state. Of course, some distant part of him was yelling. Shouting for freedom and for a return to his autonomy, but the blissful stimulation of being moulded into an inflatable bed was just too enthralling. It was impossible to hear out any idea of resistance in his position, anyway.

The air within had forced all of the 'human' parts to fuse together into one solid tan shiny pvc-like 'skin' of durable pungent human-rubber. The process was something that Abigail was actually intimately familiar with.

Before she'd ever dated Ben, Abigail worked at a certain local latex place. It wasn't really much of a fascination of hers, the material did smell nice and look nice when polished to a high sheen, but she really only got the job out of curiosity.

The owner was a total diva… A balding man in his early forties who'd borrowed money from his aging father in an effort to run a unique business dedicated to one-of-a-kind rubber pieces. Abigail had worked with these solvents and moulds for around three years, before the owner got sick of paying out-of-pocket expenses to keep his business running and shut down.

For the community that adored his stuff, it was a tragedy. But for Abigail, it was just another job she'd have to leave behind. It didn't pay that well, either. But now, she supposed with a smirk on her lips, it was paying dividends.

Abigail shut off the air after a while of keeping it at max. She hummed and hawwed as she looked over the mould.

Not exactly sure if this'll work the same way, but if everything I read online is true, then Ben should be a nice bed shape by now. Abigail thought as she reviewed what she'd found on the internet on her phone. According to the niche forum, people who turned into this strange bio-rubber after popping too many elasticity pills had a lot of unique traits. Some of them had never been done before, but one inclusion that stuck out was the process Abigail had just done for the first time. It was titled 'Rubberforming', and was a detailed document theorizing how possible it was to reshape a living rubber person into some other form.

Abigail held her breath as she removed the clamps and then took part of the mould apart.

Peeking out from the mould was one quarter, just the top left corner of the inflatable mattress she'd just reformed her partner into. It was smooth, with some rough seams from the moulding process. Ben could hardly register what was going on, still lost in the thought that he wasn't sure what part was where anymore. His whole body had been melted and so full of air, that it had totally fused and reshaped into one big mattress-shaped blob of Ben. He was uniformly sensitive, uniformly sleek and dully shiny. But the colours included blobs of his hair, lighter coloured spots where his sensitive under parts had been.

Anatomically, this wasn't even remotely human anymore. Abigail thought that and laughed as she pulled another piece of the mould away.

Miranda nearly choked on her gag. She couldn't believe what Abigail had done to Ben. The thing in front of her was only 'human' in the sense that it was what it had been before. This thing, this fleshy mattress… It wasn't even remotely man-shaped. She couldn't help but feel this whirl of excitement, nervousness and fear in her gut. After all, if Miranda was willing to do this to Ben… What would she do to her? It certainly seemed like she was planning to save the best for last.

“What do you think of my new airbed, bitch?" Abigail asked casually as she pried the light, airy and still-warm inflatable.

Ben's lips were pretty well the only thing left 'intact', but they didn't really resemble lips much anymore. Not unlike Colin or Jake's lips, they'd become those weird rubber lips of a balloon. More like a nozzle than a pair of lips. It was humiliating to be shown off like this, but so full of air, it was impossible to move on his own.

The inflatable mattresses' flattened face was distorted but featured across the 'head' part of the airbed. His squashed limbs looked more like a weird blurry mess of printed-on lines and colourful swirls and squiggles to represent hair. Even his genitals hadn't escaped the humiliating result of his reshaping, just a flattened print on the surface of the bed.

“A little rough yet, but nothing I can't fix. I wasn't expecting you to have all this shit from my old job lying around…" Abigail professed, giggling as she let go of Ben. He felt himself fall but had no way to catch himself or to right himself, slumping to the floor with an anticlimatic 'FWLUMP!' as the bed slowly slipped onto its back.

Abigail jumped onto the bed and splayed herself out, much to the shock and pleasure of her transformed ex. Benjie couldn't think clearly, no amount of resistance seemed enough to hold back the tidal wave of giddy pleasure that gushed from his mind as he was laid on, squished and squished. The air filling him moving around and leaving his thoughts a slurry of honey-like bliss.

“Well, I hope this is just like your fantasies Ben… Because this is your life forever." Abigail teased as she took a few moments to think. She had so much at her fingertips, and Miranda was as pliable as clay.

Her mind ran rampant with all sorts of ideas, biting her lower lip and blushing without even realizing it as she thought of all the things she could do to the Balloonatrix to rob her of her power, of her control of men, to make her pay for what she'd done to her and presumably, a few other women.

Abigail's eyes traced the shiny chrome cupboards and cabinets she'd rummaged through. There were other moulds. Beachballs, latex stockings and gloves, even a skinsuit if she so desired…

Miranda had been trying to break free ever since Abigail jumped on her airbed of an ex. But every time her sensitive rubbery skin rubbed the wrong way against the silky rope confining her, the elicited pleasure and sensation made her stop and reconsider. It was a frustrating and humiliating way to be trapped. Miranda's elasticity pills had become her own undoing, leaving her far too weak to be able to escape the rope. She'd made enough slack to slip free, but every inch of her body was too sensitive. Just a little touch would leave her quivering with arousal.

As if that wasn't enough, the creativity of her captor was also quite enthralling… Miranda kept battling against herself internally, fighting the side of her that longed to give in and let herself be taken and transformed into whatever her rival so desired. But the other half recognized quite soberly that Ben's transformation was the result of a hysterical woman's justified rage. She knew she had to free herself, so that she could get help and…

Shit! Miranda thought, glancing over at the large blue orb in her dungeon. Then at the rolled-up former client she'd technically abducted over two months ago. How am I going to get help, when I'm technically also a criminal? She thought nervously.

Abigai grinned like a demon as the perfect idea formed in her mind. She sprang off her living airbed and grabbed the same vacuum she'd used on it, dragging it towards Miranda.

“Mmph! Nnrrmph!" Her captive whined, Miranda's skin taking on the same slightly glossy and uniform colouration that Ben's had when he'd taken the elasticity pills. The more noticeable thing was by far the pungent aroma of rubber that radiated off of Miranda. Abigail remembered the many nights that Benjie had come home, reeking of it. She had no idea why, until more recently. The thought just made her angrier, so she pulled the gag from Miranda's mouth and stuffed the tube of the vacuum into her oddly malleable mouth before she could get a word out.

Shit! Shit-shit-shit! Miranda thought, panicking as the vacuum was switched on. The dull rumble came with this internal sucking feeling. It was strange. She could feel her feet starting to grow weirdly numb and ticklish. Her hands did the same. She watched in awe as her toes began to widen and flatten. Deflating. Her fingers did the same, going hollow like an empty pair of latex gloves. The deflation spread up her forearms and shins. As Abigail triumphantly cackled, Miranda couldn't help but experience the strange process. She was getting light-headed, it was harder to focus. Her feet and hands crumpled into themselves and went completely flat, totally numb and impossible to even wriggle.

“Look at that… Getting pretty deflated, aren't you?" Abigail said with an irritating amount of enthusiasm. Miranda shuddered and whimpered, as her captor looked her in the eyes as her fingers crumpled over. Her wrists followed soon after, her weak deflated hands hanging limply from her half-inflated forearms.

Squirk!

“How's it feel, to crumple like an empty balloon?" Abigail teased, poking her chest and laughing as it dimpled. Miranda squirmed but only succeeded in shifting her air around, causing her to slump down the chair.

Squeak-squirk!

The spreading deflation made Miranda more fearful. What would she wake up as? Would she even be in one piece when Abigail was done with her? What would happen to her toys?

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

Miranda squirmed, struggling to realize she had the opportunity to escape. She was so empty, she felt incredibly lethargic. The noise from the vacuum was also oddly deafening, making it hard to hear Abigail over it.

-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

“Hah, I bet it's getting harder to think. Your eyes look almost printed-on, that's crazy!" She exclaimed loudly, as Miranda's chest sagged, then sank inwards into her chest. She slumped downwards, the weight of her own heavy rubber body dragging her down. The vacuum's hose snagged on the ropes.

-RRRRRRR-SHFFFT!-RRRRRRRRRR!

Abigail 'helped' Miranda by pulling on her shoulders. Her robe didn't fit anymore, falling off her as she was held, head flopping forward, hair dragging against her chest and groin. I can't… move… She thought weakly, struggling to stay conscious. She felt so lethargic, but there was still some air left in her.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIII!

“You look like a deflated sex doll, haha. That's fitting, isn't it?" Abigail tormented Miranda as she held her head by the crown, flicking the vacuum up a notch. It shrilly sucked the air out of her, her sides clasping each other as her rubbery body sucked flat.

Shft-rrrk-flop!

Miranda weakly shuddered as she flopped out of the ropes and onto the floor, the vacuum's nozzle popping out of her flat nozzle-like lips. She slid into a heap on the ground, uncontrolled and too lethargic to move.

The crumpled deflated rubber fell and folded over its flattened self, landing on its robe. Therubbery tan skin sat slumped at the bottom of the chair for just a few moments as Abigail began to pick off Miranda's robe, exposing her deflated naked body. Her eyes were closed, a blissful smirk on her otherwise expressionless face.

The helpless deflated shell was incapable of being 'awake', in a dream-like state of unawareness. “Ohhhh, you're going to love what I've got in mind…" Abigail said with a snicker. It wouldn't take her long to pack up everything she'd need. But on the ride home, new ideas brewed in her mind…

A couple of months later . . .

Finally! I can't wait to see my finished product! Abigail thought giddily as she rushed to her sofa and television. Her living room was expansive now and floating above it were a pair of slightly differently sized orbs, each painted a glossy bright primary colour; One blue, one yellow.

It'd taken some work, but now Abigail had a house she'd only dreamt of owning, now. Abigail had managed to consolidate the wealth of her balloons; Jake, Colin, her airbed Ben, and of course… Miranda herself.

Her home was like a glorified mini-mansion. All the luxuries and quirks of architecture she liked, and designed to suit her new obsession; Collecting balloons.

She didn't know too much about the big blue orb, beyond that it was one of the Balloonatrix's former clients. Colin was the one who did most of the explaining, but his speech was inhibited greatly by the transformation his body had undertaken after nearly a full year living as a balloon.

Colin wasn't too happy with what Abigail decided to do with him; Repeating the process she assumed the Balloonatrix had done for Jake. Sealing him away in his own body, reducing Colin to nothing more than a large yellow orb. The two balloons were major decorative pieces in her living room, dangling from the ceiling attached to special cables to hold them in place. She could tease them if she so desired, but that was largely what the role of her air-bed was.

She loved teasing Ben. It was so easy, now that he was just a possession of hers.

Today was the day of the parade. The culmination of her hard work.

Hsssssssssssssssssshhhhhhh!

Where… am I? Miranda wearily thought. Something had happened, something bad. Miranda felt extremely dizzy, words didn't come to mind straight away. She could hear a cacophany of noises. A loud hiss from inside her. Distant strangers talking about an upcoming parade. Her mind swam in the atmosphere. Was she at a mall? Where the hell was she!?

Psssshhh-Hrrsssshhhh-krrrk!

Miranda slowly regained consciousness, alerted by the alien sensation of being so incredibly… flat. It was a startling realization but one that she could do very little about. First, she'd tried to roll over. To sit up, to move at all. But her huge flattened body was just too heavy. She had no muscle, no bone to lift herself. Just a huge pile of flattened rubber. Flitting memories of the night she'd been deflated came to mind, but… She wasn't like this. Miranda would've groaned if she had it in her.

Hshhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Crrrrk-grrrn!

She also knew she was large. Her thoughts took a long time to develop as she began to sense dozens of people moving around, talking and barking orders at each other. It wasn't casual conversation, it was direction. Around her, the distant sound of other hissing joined hers with a symphony of inflation. A few passerbies casually referred to her as the “girl balloon", ignorant to the fact that the cartoonish half-inflated parade blimp was actually a real person.

Krrrrk! Prssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

She was being inflated by a hose or several, she wasn't sure. Something was wrong. The last thing she remembered, Miranda was in her basement after that strange woman showed up to find her cheating boyfriend or something. It was hazy in her mind, but the details glued themselves together. Concern washed over her. There's got to be a chance I can still escape from this, right?

Her body was filling up oddly uniformly. She couldn't move. Miranda felt like one enormous pillow, only she wasn't full of stuffing. The air rushing into her felt rejuvenating and pleasant. Her hollow body being filled was strangely… satisfying?

Slowly but surely, the enormity of her situation became obvious. She was getting bigger. But there was no creaking, no sense of pressure. She was still largely flat. Miranda's body was spread thin enough to dwarf her old living room, and her old dungeon. As the air rushed into her hollow body, it was like a trickle of hope.

At first, Miranda hoped that if she was full enough, she might be able to start to have some autonomy over her transformed body again. But that threshold was reached. Her 'body' was just a thin rubbery shell around the gas filling her. She was getting increasingly buoyant. Her body rose above the ground, several glued-on hooks pulling on ropes that held her in place. A dozen or so people inspected her from the ground level, ensuring she held in place as they continued to inflate her.

Miranda felt flustered beyond belief but there was so little she could do. Her bloated form had been dutifully reshaped into a mimikry of herself. She hadn't been clothed, so much as her body had been painted on. Now she had a permanent shiny red bra and panties. Her sealed bits merged together seamlessly, leaving not even a hole for the gas within to escape.

But as her body was filled more and more, the shape of her body began to contour. Filling with form-fitting air, giving her more rigidity and more clarity of thought. She was bulging, cartoonishly misshapen. The one who'd reshaped her had gone to some serious effort just to upset her.

Below her, the ones responsible for her inflation continued to chat fairly loudly about the oddly lewd balloon. They discussed how the company putting the parade on had paid to rent the balloon for a surprisingly cheap price.

Oh, no. No, no no no! This can't be happening! Miranda thought as her head sprang upwards against her whims. She was so full but still, she needed more. She was huge. Beyond huge. Humiliatingly enormous and still tightening. Her body was swelling tighter and tighter, lighter and more light-headed. Miranda soon found herself struggling to focus on anything but the sound of her body tightening, filling and creaking.

Krrrrk… Grnn! Prrrt-krrrk… Psssssshhhhhhhhhhhh!

She was in a massive hanger, where a dozen other mundane parade balloons were in the process of being inflated. Miranda had a good view of them now that she was floating in the air, her bloated limbs idly wobbling. She had zero control over her overstretched form, now. Her whole body was so sensitive and so full, it was hard to think. The feeling of her sensitive rubbery shell getting tighter, stretching thinner… It was orgasmic and yet simultaneously incomparable to orgasm. It felt euphoric without being distinctly sexual. Miranda didn't feel so bad about pushing Jake and Colin past their limits anymore. She'd have let out a deep sigh of contentment if her face wasn't stuck flattened into a wide dumb grin.

For the dozens upon dozens of volunteers and experienced parade workers, Miranda was just a particularly odd balloon among a bunch of odd balloons. Each year was different, this one was not unlike any other. Tons of parade floats were already parked outside, preparing for the launch of the event. They discussed her amongst themselves as they prepared to bring the balloons outdoors. The girl balloon was oddly lewd for a parade, but the group supposed it was just some private advertisement for lingerie or something. Although, one of them noted, the balloon's bright red underwear and bra lacked any sort of insignia or branding.

It didn't take long for Miranda's cartoonishly overinflated head to poke outside of the hanger. She was humiliatingly large, just a massive cartoony smiling blimp of herself. There was no muscles, no control of her harrowingly thin and inflated body. She had zero control. The ones guiding her around with harnesses and special weights and equipment, they were the ones who would make her move. And, unfortunately, it was time for the show.

Abigail lost her mind, laughing like a maniac and causing her tan inflatable mattress to creak and groan with every hysterical movement as Miranda's bloated body was led through the streets of her city.

Krrrk-squirk! “Mmpph!" Ben, or as he'd been casually renamed, 'Bed', let out muffled moans of bliss as his body was stretched by his owner's movements. She'd propped him across the sofa, laying ontop of him just to tease him. “Look at that! Your dumb air-head of a dominatrix is really lookin' popular today. She sure suits that size." Abigail half-rambled and half-teased with a slicing edge, eager to see her toy's reaction. She titled the light air-filled inflatable mattress so that he could see the screen. Miranda's bloated body was the highlight of the parade within the first few minutes of the news' coverage of the event. Her 'lewd' appearance was the object of the attention.

Miranda was utterly aghast. She couldn't believe how humiliated she felt, but… to be so full, so helpless. Her mind drifted from revenge to hope. Maybe she still had some chance to be packed away and retrieved. Maybe after this torment, Abigail would see reason and save her.

Her body creaked and groaned, kept so full that she couldn't really focus on anything but her inflation. Her shell was so tight, shiny and gleaming in the bright early morning light. Repeatedly, the parade came to random halts. She'd fly forward into the tail-end of some adorable cartoon weasel character's monolithic rump, only to feel the bulbous head of the bumblebee float behind her ramming into her backside. The sensation would've put her past orgasm, if she was even capable of that now.

The air rushing around inside her was leaving her oddly distractible. Miranda had never felt this overstimulated in her life, but she also didn't want it to end. The pleasure of being so thin mixed with the humiliation of her present situation made hating her condition sort of pointless. It felt too pleasant to hate it. She looked too cute to be mad. People below her pointed at her, adoring words and catcalls coming from the crowd as she drifted overhead, only to feel her face deform against that stupid blimp's round brown butt again.

As mad and resistent as she was, Miranda found herself worn thin by the experience by the end of the two-hour long parade. Either because it was easier to accept being a blimp when she was stuck as one, or because it was just too fun to give up worrying about everything, Miranda found herself delightfully air-headed and almost mindless by the time she reached the hanger again.

Her mind snapped back to her as the workers pulled her down. A glimmer of hope flickered to life again. This is it, my last chance to escape! Just when I'm deflated enough, I can escape!

There was a pit in her huge, helium-filled stomach. Her body was one big gas-filled void, surrounded by the thin stretchy layer that was everything she was. Miranda couldn't help but meditate on that as the works began to insert new hoses.

Wait, wait, what's this? Miranda thought, frantic as her plan was suddenly jolted. The hum of several vacuums kicked into high gear stirred her to fright as she felt the tightness of her stretchy skin begin to relieve, far faster than she had anticipated!

BVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

No, no! I'm going to deflate too quickly! Miranda thought nervously, helpless as she felt her hollow body vibrate from the shaking vacuums, quickly causing her ballooned body to begin to crumple, dimple and shift. She didn't even feel like she had a chance to be in control, the moment of opportunity coming and going as she wriggled her half-inflated body feebly, just enough to make some odd noises. But that was it. The people deflating her didn't even seem to notice, mistaking her intentional movements for a gust of wind ruffling the deflating tan balloon's crumpling limbs.

Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr- tshhh!

The crew shut off the vacuums and put them away, returning with some different gear.

No no no! This isn't how it's supposed to go! Miranda thought angrily, her impotent rage turning to embarrassment as the workers slipped on special fabric shoes and began to trod right on her, crumpling her flattening out body and running special brooms across her form to evenly disperse the gas within. Her body shriveled and shrank, growing dull and simple. Her sensation of awareness diminished greatly as she lost her filling, worrying what might lay ahead of her as she was folded in half, then again, and again. Dozens of strangers handling her and frustratingly unaware of her situation.

The balloon was left an enormous tuckfull of folded-up blimp. She was inserted into a special protective box, housing her shipping details and information. Miranda couldn't believe it even as she drifted off into a forced slumber. I'm… Not… Property! Mmnrff.

Abigail laughed as she rolled up her deflated ex-partner, 'airbed'.

“I know you can probably still hear me, so… That's just the debut of the new and improved Balloonatrix. She'll be on tour all over the country, then it's off to Europe! Isn't that nice? You'll be tucked under my bed, and she'll be on the news all over the place." Abigail teased, before pushing the last of Ben's air out.

There was one finishing touch Abigail had to make. It was really the only reason she had to wait so long before finally renting her new blimp out.

Abigail reviewed her email and snickered at the satisfying sight. The first was an email attached with Miranda's old identification info. Her age, hair colour, driver's liscense, so on and so fourth. The next was a new identification sheet. A heavily simplified block of information that was printed on Miranda's body, as per official legislative requirement. Technically and legally, Miranda was just an object. A large aerial balloon, intended for novelty parades. The documentation was necessary to acquire before renting her out to various companies.

With her response, Abigail would erase Miranda. Legally, she would cease to be anything but an it, just property. She cackled to herself as she signed the digital document with her finger, adding a little heart in place of her i's dot. It was done, just like that.

Miranda would arrive via airport at her next destination. Reinflated in a strange city. Toured between unfamiliar buildings and wedged between two other mundane parade balloons. Hopelessness filled her hollow rubbery body as her second parade ended.

I'm not getting out of this, am I? Miranda thought nervously as she was deflated yet again.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd been turned into a glorified blimp. Miranda had become used to her new life. The routine of waking up during inflation, filled taut and carried around a city, only to be deflated and packed up again had become her normal.

Only, this time she was reinflated in a large, but definitely smaller than usual, hanger.

“Look at that… Just as stupid-looking as I remember." Abigail teased. She had a handful of paperwork with her, but the bloated balloon didn't want to accept this strange reality.

“Miirraaanndaa… Or should I say, Balloonatrix? You certainly fit the 'balloon' part now. I just thought I'd catch up with you. It's been a few years, now. You make a cute blimp." Abigail spoke to the large, ditzy-looking blimp woman.

Miranda was far too balloon-minded to even really pick up on what Abigail was saying to her. Language in general had become rather pointless to her. She couldn't talk after all.

“Well… Just thought I'd let you know, It's official. I've got the last piece of your old documentation here." She said, holding up a single dusty passport.

“I shredded the rest a while back when I got your new papers, these ones right here. They classify you as a blimp, break down your rubber contents and purpose, appearance and size… How long you'll last, even a fake production date. I doubt anyone out there knows you as anything but the sexy balloon lady, now." Abigail teased, but she paused. It wasn't as fun as teasing Miranda when she was tied up. The thrill just wasn't the same. That was partly why she'd turned to a life of dominating men and women alike, herself.

“Oh well. Seems like you're happy with your new life. I was going to contact a friend of mine, see if they can turn you back but uh…" Abigail laughed at the dumb smile on the bloated balloon's face.

“Well, you make a better balloon anyway. I've decided to renew a few contracts, you'll be on tour again soon." Abigail said with a laugh. She set the passport on fire and tossed it a good distance away. The bloated balloon squeaked uncharacteristically, as some glimmer of Miranda burned away along with her passport.

Only Balloonatrix the blimp remained, floating mindlessly in the hanger.