One Rainy Night

Kirsten’s phone dinged non-stop for nearly a minute. She swiped each text away with one thumb while she gathered her belongings into her small backpack and headed for the door. She waved to her co-workers as she opened the door with her foot, still clutching her phone and bag. “Jesus, Dad….” she muttered, head down into the blue glow from her device as she finally answered the chapter of texts.

Dad: WHERE ARE YOU???

Dad: u were supposed to be done at 9!

Dad: This is fucking ridiculous! Tell that managr I wanna speak to him!

Dad: You are 18!! And alone!! U shouldnt be working this late!!!!

Dad: Please text me when your done so i can come get u.

Me: Daddy its ok… Worked late again, coming home xoxo

Her phone chimed again as she slid it into her pocket, but she pretended not to hear it. She walked quickly as she passed each intersection. Every street looked dark and empty, and the light drizzle was enough to give her a chill. She pulled her pea coat together and shivered a bit as she rounded the old tavern on the corner of 3rd and Willow. She glanced across the street at the bank and noticed the big-faced clock on the marquise read: “11:43.” She sighed and increased her pace. “Shit… He’s gonna be pissed….” She thought ahead and pictured the rest of the way home. Two more turns and then a mile and a half stretch down Main St, then another mile through the suburbs until she could slam her front door, run past her dad, lock herself in her room and peel off her clothes. She picked at the bottom of her sweaty bra through her shirt, underneath her coat. She couldn’t wait to get it off… And her tight yoga pants….. And her socks……. She coughed into the damp air and imagined her shower, warm and steamy.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them she immediately jumped and let out a very faint yelp. There was a man no more than 10 feet in front of her, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She swore he wasn’t there a few seconds ago… He stood, tall and dark with a wide stance. His left hand was tucked into his brown cargo pants, while his right pulled a cigarette from his stubbled lips after a long, deep drag. He wore a newsboy cap that covered his dark eyes and he never smiled as he stared at Kirsten. His cigarette hand reached up and, still holding the stick between his two fingers, adjusted his leather jacket while he coughed. She noticed a bicycle leaning against the wall with a backpack slung over one handlebar. There was something tall sticking out of the open zipper, but as her eyes glanced over it... “Hello there…” he rasped with a slight nod. Kirsten stuttered and sidestepped nervously into the street. She only looked to her right as she hurried across, never looking back at the shady figure. She could hear him cough once she reached the sidewalk and she quickened her pace until she rounded the corner.

“I need to get home…” She debated calling her father, but groaned at the thought of the lecturing he’d submit her to and decided against it. As she slowed up to catch her breath, she saw a flicker in her peripheral vision. She turned her head down the long, slender alleyway that had a single light with an exposed bulb that flashed on and off sporadically. She looked up and consulted her mental map of the town. “If i’m on Maple… Then that’s west…. Um….” She looked again down the corridor and frowned. She glanced left, and then right, and started down the shadowy alley. “I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this….” she repeated under her breath, but she knew this was a shortcut home. A quicker way to her house, and her dad, and her shower…. And bed…..

Her footsteps echoed in both directions as she chugged along in the dark. Her mind wandered to combat the eerie feeling welling inside of her. She thought of work and her stupid boss, Kevin. Always making them stay to cover shifts so his favorite employees could take off early. She thought of her dad. “How am I gonna slip past him…?” she wondered. She thought of the man with the cigarette. She pouted a bit as she realized how rude she’d been. Maybe he was just a totally innocent man, stopping his bike ride for a quick smoke. He might’ve been a really nice person and she acted like he was Jason Voorhees… He even said “hello…” She reviewed his appearance in her mind, smirking with half of her mouth. He was a little spooky in the dark like that, but he actually looked kind of attractive. Tall, dark… handsome even. He had a sort of, Brad Pitt kind of look to him from what she could tell.

Her daydream was broken by a loud clang back behind her. She gasped and spun around, looking for the source of the sound. She didn’t see anything. The dark had consumed the path behind her and she could only make out the faint, orange glow from the street lights all the way at the end. Her ears picked up the buzzing from the flickering light a few feet away and her vision was distracted by the light raindrops that could be seen falling in the dim light. Another chill drew over her and she tightened her grip on her coat once again. She gulped and began to slowly turn back towards her destination, when suddenly- BLEEP BLEEP. Her heart skipped a beat and she quickly slid the phone out of her pocket, raising it to her face. As she unlocked the screen, the flickering light squeaked and then remained dark. She concentrated on the glowing screen as she opened her messaging app. “Dammit, Dad…” she sighed as her trim fingers began to click away at the keyboard. There was a whoosh of air as a pair of arms wrapped around her, one over her face and the other constricting her middle. She screamed into the leather and flailed as hard as she could, but she was no match for the much taller assailant. The arms dragged her into the darkest corner in the alley and tightened their grip until she couldn’t draw a single breath. The last thing she remembered was the smell of smoke, and a wheezing cough in the dark…

Kirsten opened her eyes with a jolt. Her body tensed against the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She rocked a bit on the metal chair and mumbled into the duct tape that stretched cheek to cheek. Tears ran down her pretty face and her makeup smeared a bit. Her long, dark hair fell against the backside of the chair and tickled her bare arms. She was cold, and her skin was damp. Her bare feet slapped on the cement floor. The bottoms of her legs stuck to the smooth metal of the seat, and hurt as she struggled in vain to free herself. Her thin panties and bra offered little protection from the dank, cool chamber. There was a single metal door and no windows. Just a swinging bulb high above her head. She sobbed and screamed into the tape until the latch screeched outside and the heavy door swung open, revealing a large man dressed in a frightening garb. He stood in the doorway, his shoulders almost touching either side. He breathed steadily into his thin face mask, one like a doctor would wear. A bit of steam formed on his large, plastic goggles with every breath, so he adjusted the mask, and then the hairnet that clung to his head. He wore a long, black apron and blue rubber gloves. His big boots thudded as he crept into the room, shutting the door behind him. Kirsten stared at him with wide, doe-like eyes, completely frozen in terror. He stared back, tracing up and down her exposed body with his eyes until he cocked his head to one side. “Hello there…” Kirsten screamed hard, but little sound released from her gag.

The Man dropped a backpack against the wall by the door. He crouched down and undid the zipper the rest of the way and then removed something from the pack. He turned to Kirsten and revealed to her a large bicycle pump. It looked like a professional grade one, with metal pieces and a rubber-grip handle. He wiped the surface of the big, round gauge on the bottom of the pump with one finger and hummed as he set it down near Kirsten’s feet. The hose coming out of the pump was abnormally long and thick, made of shiny black rubber and leading to an odd-looking nozzle piece at the end. Kirsten breathed hard, her chest rising and falling as the tears began to dry to her face. The Man was fiddling around overtop the backpack again with his back to Kirsten. Her eyes drooped as he turned back around and her tears resumed falling. The Man held up a video camera, showing it to her and chuckling. She shook her head and whined, but he nodded and patted her on her knee. She shivered at the sensation of his fingers beneath the rubber and tried to withdraw as best she could. He laughed and moved to the corner of the room where there was a tall shelf. He reached up and positioned the camera so that it faced Kirsten in the center of the room and then took a step back to admire his work.

Kirsten stared up at the blinking red light on the camera and then turned her attention to The Man as he once again knelt by the backpack. This time he pulled out a small bottle of lube. Kirsten gulped, putting it all together in her head. She panicked and tried to brace herself as best she could… Her confusion returned, however, when The Man picked up the nozzled end of the bike pump hose in his other hand. She wondered what possible use he could have for that. He used his fingers to unscrew the cap from the lube bottle and then he squeezed out a decent glob onto the nozzle. Kirsten felt her stomach knot as she watched him and came to a frightening realization that he meant to insert that nozzle somewhere… “Oh God….” she thought as The Man spread the lube around the nozzle. “What the fuck!? Why would he use that? Oh my God… Somebody please help me…. Somebody find us….. Daddy…. Oh God, Daddy please help……” She closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them, tears poured out. She sobbed out loud and The Man shook his head in response. He now stood menacingly in front of her with a wide stance, holding the lubed-up nozzle and hose in one hand. The two made eye contact briefly before he leaned down, placing his other hand on her thigh. He leaned his face close to hers as she screamed and cried, and then using his fingers, he brushed her wet bangs aside, pulled his mask down until his lips were showing, and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

The Man returned his mask to position and worked his hand down Kirsten’s pale body. He brushed the nozzle against her cheek, then against her breasts and cleavage, drew a few circles on her stomach with the lube and then set it on her thigh. She tried her best to resist as he slipped his fingers underneath the strap of her panties and began to tug them down. He contrasted her wailing and panic with a gentle “Shhhh….” as he used both hands to work her underwear down her legs until they were just above her knees. He picked up the nozzle and held it in front of her face one last time before reaching down and pressing it into her crotch. Kirsten’s eyes widened as the cold lube smeared on her skin. There was slight resistance until the tip of the nozzle finally popped inside of her, and the rest soon followed with little issue. She gasped against the tape and her mouth widened until the tape pulled painfully on her cheeks. The Man twisted and shoved the nozzle until he was certain that it was fully secure within the terrified girl. Kirsten clenched her fingers and toes throughout the ordeal, and only released her grip when she began to get used to the object. The Man took a few steps back and raised a cell phone, seemingly snapping a picture of her. Then, he raised Kirsten’s sparkly-cased phone and took another few pictures. She wept again at the thought of him sending these horrible, humiliating, disgusting pictures to anyone in her phone. He dropped both phones into the backpack and slid the bike pump around on the floor with his boot until it was right where he wanted it. Kirsten watched as he took in the sight for a moment, breathed deep, and leaned down to grab the handle of the pump.

The Man looked down to make sure he was standing on the bottom wings of the pump to hold it in place, and without another thought, he pulled the plunger up slowly as far as it would go. Kirsten felt a bizarre sensation in her lower abdomen. It hurt a bit, and almost made her giggle. Then, The Man pressed the plunger down, down, down into the pump until it clicked at the bottom, causing Kirsten to wince in discomfort as the air rushed into her body, straining her lower core. She moaned and threw her head back as the tears dripped and The Man laughed. He drew the plunger out again, causing a small rush of air to flow through Kirsten’s vagina, and then he slammed back down, forcing a second huge blow into her. He continued to pump as if he were fixing a flat on his bicycle. Up, down.. Up, down… Up, down….. Every time, the pressure increasing inside of Kirsten and making her yelp and groan. Every now and the, between pumps, she would look down at the hose before another sharp, cold rush hit her. She started to realize that every time she looked down, she could see less and less of the rubber tube, and more and more of her own skin! Her belly began to bulge further and further from her body, to the point that as The Man lowered the plunger, Kirsten could see the curve of her gut expand.

The inflation began to take its toll on Kirsten in a matter of minutes. She could barely think straight as the puffs of air forced her body to swell against its will. The pressure was making every inch of her hurt. Her hands even felt sore. Despite her cries reflecting her misery, The Man showed no signs of stopping. He steadily pumped and pumped as Kirsten grew right before his eyes like some kind of perverted pool toy. He only hesitated every couple of minutes to observe his work, but never stopped pumping. Kirsten couldn’t make sense of it. She looked helplessly into the red eye of the camera and whimpered. Her belly now stuck out a good foot and a half in front of her, covering her lap and pushing her swollen boobs up toward her face. Her bra felt extra tight, and she wondered if her belly was the only thing being filled by all this air. She moaned as she looked down, and seeing her arms, she knew… Her entire body was starting to inflate! She wiggled her legs as much as she was able and could tell that the restraints around her ankles were tighter than before. Her joined hands managed to reach over to her butt, which felt tight and swollen. Even the tape on her face felt like it was being tugged tighter. The man kept pumping, no matter what, and Kirsten was completely powerless to stop him. All she could do was sit there and cry as she was literally blown up like a balloon.

The Man finally took a short break to grab a bottle of water from his bag, taking a few sips and then tossing it back in. He sighed with a disgusting content as he marvelled at Kirsten’s grotesquely bloated form. He stepped close and reached out to poke a few spots on her belly. Then, he ran his hand along her smooth flesh until he got to her breasts. He poked and prodded them for a moment, before shoving his hand under her tight bra and cupping her hard, stretched nipple in his hand. She winced as the tight bra cut into her back and other boob, which seemed to delight The Man. He slid his hand out and patted her sore udder, giving her a thumbs up. He turned and walked back to his pump, and returned to pumping her as if he hadn’t missed a beat. Kirsten’s eyes hurt from crying so much, and the dry tear specks flaked apart in the corners as she blinked them away before new tears ran out of her. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She kept trying to wake up from the nightmare, but every time she opened her eyes, she was greeted with more and more of her own tight, fattening body. Her belly was disgusting. It had blown up so much that she imagined herself bigger than any pregnant person that she’d ever seen. It almost blocked her vision of The Man, but her boobs were probably going to do that first, she figured. She could feel her ballooing tits press more and more against her chin with every pump. She could smell the glistening sweat from her skin. Everything hurt. Especially her bra and the other restraints.

Kirsten’s prayers were soon answered. At least, some of them… Her bra creaked like a dam about to give way, and with the next mighty pump from The Man, it finally snapped, flying across the room! The Man laughed and stopped pumping just long enough to walk over to it and pick it up. Kirsten sighed from the only relief she could get, but her joy was short-lived as The Man dropped the shattered garment into his pack and went back to pumping. Kirsten had lost track of how long it’d been. How long this maniac had been stuffing her full of enough air to fill a bouncy castle. She still moaned… Still winced… Still cried. However, she was starting to become numb. Her pores and nerves were stretched to their limits. She felt cold and tight. Sore and throbbing. Her ankle ropes finally burst off and her bloated calves bubbled into a round shape. She felt the cold, metal legs of the chair against them and wiggled her plump toes. She couldn’t see her feet, but they felt just as fat and overinflated as the rest of her. The Man shook his head as he pumped and finally broke his silence. “Wow.. You’re fucking huge, girl!” Kirsten gagged as the words hit her ears. She felt dirty. He was doing this for some weird, kinky reason and she was just a toy to him. An object, not a person. Just a big… balloon.

SNAP! The rope around Kirsten’s wrists gave way, freeing her fat arms from the chair. It would’ve been liberating, if she wasn’t a prisoner in her own overfilled body. She grunted as she struggled to reach the sides of her enormous belly. Her hands bumped into the sides of her balloon-like boobs, causing them to jiggle as much as her tight flesh could. The Man practically panted at the sight of her naked body bobbing around. What was once a petite, slim, young woman now nothing more than a huge, sweaty, naked blimp. He wanted her… Badly. He wanted to feel how tight that pressure made her. He wanted to press himself into her trembling, bloated body. But, he knew better. This had to end, it’d already been long enough. He saw the texts. He knew she was due home. The poor girl was immense. She was too big, too fat, too full, and The Man loved it. He got her phone out of the backpack and snapped a few pictures, hitting “Send” on the group message he’d made for all of her contacts. He then returned to his pump for a final time. He cracked his knuckles, grabbed the plunger, and pumped faster than ever before. Kirsten’s body growled at him as he challenged it's resilience. Each gust of air pushing her limits more and more. Kirsten screamed again as she felt the stretch marks in her tortured skin creep down her curvy sides. The sound of rubber twisting filled the air, along with scent of warm, sweat-moistened air.

The Man wiped his brow as he struggled harder with every plunge. The force was incredible, and the pumping slowed almost to a fault. They could both feel it… Kirsten was full. Over-full. She looked like a shiny, wet, white balloon in the center of the room. Her round curves all-but hit the ceiling and back wall. The chair had been tipped over and pushed into the far corner by Kirsten's ever-expanding girth. Her great belly inched towards The Man slowly, but steadily. He reached out to pet her solid, drum-tight underbelly with one hand while desperately leaning on the plunger with the other. The hiss of the pump was accompanied by the faint, muffled cries of agony coming from somewhere within Kirsten's vast cleavage, beyond the dome of her massive gut. The Man could feel her nearly transparent skin begin to rumble and pulse beneath the palm of his hand. His rubber glove squeaked against her making him sigh in sick pleasure. His anticipation was nearly as heavy as the pressure inside of Kirsten's doomed vessel. He gently caressed the fragile curve of Kirsten as he took it all in.. The sight of the wall of flesh before him.. The sounds of a pretty girl succumbing to her terrible fate… The smells of a human body that's been stretched and abused…. He leaned his head back and moaned as he mustered all of his strength into one final push downward. He grunted as he forced the handle down further and further. Kirsten screamed as her body tightened more… more……. more……….

The two voices were finally cut off by a sharp, deafening…

BANG!!!

...

The Man stumbled to his feet, wiping a thick, red paste from his broad goggles. Dazed, he glanced around the room at his final product. He wiped more muck from his apron and sleeves, and used two fingers to remove a sliver of rubbery skin from his shoulder. There was nothing left of Kirsten other than this gooey mess and a fine, crimson mist that floated about the room. The Man collected his pump and camera and threw them into his bag. He stepped outside the room and stripped his costume off, dumping the soiled clothes into a nearby burn barrel. He slipped his original outfit out of his pack and slung the bag over his shoulder. The Man straddled the seat of his bicycle as he began to peddle down the dark, rainy alleyway as his pocket lit up with a soft, blue glow. He removed the phone and squinted at the screen while coasting into the orange streetlight.

Dad: Kirsten!!! Where are u???? What is this picture??