[Story Contains Transformation topics]
It had always been Conor’s secret dream to be inflated, the bigger the better. It was in the secret of his room that he scoured the web, finding every photo manipulation to creative story to fill his fantasy. But it wasn’t enough, and even delving into the world of RP did not sate his craving for more. But one day when he was in a chat room with a bunch of other transformation artists that he stumbled on something. One of them mentioned an username of someone that he might want to get in touch with, someone that might just be able to fulfill his fantasy. They went by the username MagicManager27451, which lacked in creativity, but their page was filled with images of dozens of different parade balloons. Connors hemmed and hawed at the idea to message the user, his natural shyness at sharing his secret battling against the full nature of his desires. Logic rarely wins in this battle.
It was Friday night, and Conor found himself in front of his computer. A chat window lay bare in front of him, but a message sat primed to be sent to initiate the conversation. Thoughts raced through his mind, playing over every possibility of things that could go wrong with the idea. What if it was someone IRL that he knew, what if they were a creepy pervert that kidnapped people, what if he was going to be pranked? But he looked over at his wall, where dozens of photos of people being inflated lay printed, and that hit of extacy was just enough for him move the mouse, slowly, over to the send button and click it down.
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Prideoftheparade17
Hey, sorry for contacting you out of the blue but I heard that you offer an interesting service?
Conor tried to be coy in his writing. Hesitant to commit to anything more. A minute or two passed with no response. He stared hard at his screen, breath caught in his throat. Another minute passed without response, Conor started to doubt he would get a response until.
Beep
The computer made a noise, announcing a response from the mysterious stranger. Conor rushed to see the message only to be disappointing in what he say
MagicManager27451
???
It took Conor a minute to realize that his message was vague to say the least, and that he would need to commit more if he wanted to get anywhere. But the mysterious person was there on the other end, so he began to message them further.
Prideoftheparade17
I heard from others that you offer an interesting service that relates relates to the images on your profile. Is this true?
MagicManager27451
Oh, you mean the parade balloons? Are you interested.
Prideoftheparade17
Interested in what?
MagicManager27451
In being a parade balloon.
Prideoftheparade17
Wait, then it really is true?
MagicManager27451
If you are wondering if I can transform people into parade balloons, then the answer is yes.
Does that answer your question?
Prideoftheparade17
Um yes.
Conor hesitated at this moment. This was what he had been dreaming of for years. But now that it was here, he hesitated. Doubt filled his head and dozens of bad ending stories filled his head. What if it went wrong, what if this was all an elaborate trick. The tingling from his loins won out as he continued the message train.
Prideoftheparade17
What would I need to do?
MagicManager27451
So just to reiterate, you want to just be turned into a parade balloon, one that you would see at the Macy’s day parade? Do you have any preferences.
Prideoftheparade17
Yes, exactly. I don’t really have any preferences, just what every makes it easier. Does that work?
MagicManager27451
That should work. Would you be free Saturday for this?
Prideoftheparade17
YES
MagicManager27451
Then please meet me at my workplace at around 7pm, address below:
856 Islington Ave
Toronto, Ontario
M9V 2X5, Canada
Door is located on the side of the facility. Please make sure to not be late.
MagicManager27451 online status quickly switched to offline, not even waiting for a response from Conor. Not that he cared, as his thoughts had to get through the buzzing that had filled his head, making it impossible to think strait.
It’s happening. It’s happening. Yes. Yes. Yes.
He hugged himself, trying to calm down his shakes, but it was just all too much to take in. There it was, an invite to do what he had always though was impossible. He opened his private folders on his computer, staring at large, ballooned out celebrities and imagining his goofy face in their place. He glanced down at the computers clock, Thursday. It would be two more nights before his dream became a reality. Two more nights till it happened.
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Connors watch read 7:30, he was late. He knocked on the door at the side of a warehouse building that was in the middle of nowhere. There was not a soul in sight, and Conor had not passed another car on the way in. Hesitantly he knocked on the door. It creaked open, revealing a tall woman behind it. She was dressed business conservative, a clash against her bright dyed hair.
“Are you the guy with the parade username?” she asked sternly.
“Yes” Connor answered hesitantly.
“You’re late” she responded. The woman moved aside and motioned for Conor to move into the space. He did so quietly, his breath catching in his throat.
“So um, how is this going to work?” Asked Conor as he stared into the mostly empty warehouse room. Other than a small room of to the side the facility was bare and empty, the perfect place for a parade balloon.
“Put this on” she commanded, handing him a rectangular package labeled, “Spider Man Costume”. She pointed off to a small room set into the side of the space and said “You can change there” as she glanced down at her watch. Conor did what he was told to do, diligently getting changed as butterflies danced in his stomach. The latex costume stuck to his skin as he struggled to drag it over his body, forcing him to constantly stop and continue again and again. But after a few minutes Conor was finally ready, clad head to toe in a latex Spiderman costume. He returned back to the warehouse floor, noticing for the first time the varrying supplies scattered around the room.
“So um...” Conor started as he approached the woman, only to be interrupted.
“There” she pointed over to a spot somewhat center in the room, right next to a small looking drum. The woman glanced back at her watch again.
“So um, I didn’t get your name. What should I call you?” Conor asked as he approached the drum barrel.
“Just call me master, as that is what I am to you for now” The flutter of butterfly wings increased in his gut, turning to a full torrent of moths that made it difficult to walk. It was almost too much as he stood there in the center of the cold, large warehouse. His ‘Master’ approached, going strait to the barrel with a brush in hand.
“This will tingle a little” the woman stated as she pulled a liquid drenched brush out of the drum and unceremoniously applied the cold liquid to Connors arm, which did as it was promised and caused a lot of tingling to Connors skin. Conor’s master quickly and efficiently covered the man head to toe in the stuff, the tingling growing so intense for Conor that he started to lose feeling on his skin.
“Right, next is the part you get a kick out of right kid?” the woman casually asked Conor as she dragged over a large tube that led to an array of interconnected canisters in the corner. Conor’s mind blanked as the moment arrived, making Conor oblivious to the question asked by his new master.
“What?” he asked in response.
“Bend over, now” she ordered. In her hand she held a large, clear plastic object. On one half it looked like an industrial sized value, a large cousin to one you would find on a beach toy.
“Um, what?” Conor asked in confusion. The woman sighed and glanced at her watch once more.
“I don’t have time for this.” She muttered under her breath. “Bend over, Now!” she commanded Conor, causing him to flinch back at the command and meekly obeyed it. He bent over glancing down at the ground with his fingers hovering just above it. His master took up position behind him
“So what happens nowOHHH” Conor tried to say before a foreign icy cold, slippery, object penetrated his butt hole, sliding a ways in before settling into a stable position. This offense caused Connors to spring away, grabbing for hit but as he sprang forward. His hands scrabbled to his nether, only for them to be greeted by the unmoving plastic. He tried to pull it out, only to find it sealed to the edges of his hole. His master read his face.
“Oh what the matter now. This is what you want, right?” she asked him, seemingly not caring for an answer. She confirmed the time with her watch. “Right, lets continue. Look here” she indicated to look at her. Conor obeyed the command. His master took no time to complete the next step, spearing a pasted over his nose and mouth creating a perfect seal. Suddenly Conor could no longer breath. He tried to claw at his mouth, but the woman deflected his arms.
“Stop!” she commanded. “Does a parade balloon have any reason to breath?” she asked. Conor could only nod no. “That is correct, all you need to do is sit there and look the part. Do not worry about breathing anymore. Understood?” Conor nodded in agreement. As time passed he started to feel more comfortable with not breathing. Not that his master was waiting for his comfort. She immediately fetched the tube and hooked it into the valve located at the Conor’s rear, twisting it to lock it into place.
“This is going to feel weird, just so you know” the woman commented before turning the knob on the hose, sending a blast of cold air gusting into Conor’s body. He could feel the pressure building inside of him, sending vibrations throughout his body as the tension grew. The it started to happen. Slowly his belly started to rise, fingers thickened as he swelled out of control. The swelling didn’t stop, spreading down his arms and legs as if he suddenly gained a few hundred pounds. The pressure didn’t stop building until Conor could no longer move, at which point his mistress turned the air knob back to off.
She approached Conor, looking down at her watch while flipping through a notebook. She mumbled some things to herself approached Conor before kicking out his feet from under him. He fell, slowly, to the ground, landing with a hollow THUMP on impact. His mistress then got to work, adjusting his limbs this way and that, to make it seem that he was the webslinger himself climbing along the floor. She attached the ends of long ropes to his limbs at this point, securing them to the floor with heavy sandbags.
“There, just what the client ordered” she commented to herself, flipping the valve back on. Air continued to rush into Conor, bulging him further and further out. The helium eventually takes him, sending him taunt against the ropes. Soon he fills the factory room as the hiss from the tanks ends. Conor is in bliss, the tautness of his own body driving him wild. But he is stuck, unable to satisfy himself. He can’t focus, his mind is in the clouds. He almost misses the door opening once more.
“Hello there Sam” Conor’s mistress greets the man.
“Hey there Veronica, so this is the replacement huh” the man walks around the room, observing the balloon that filled the room. “Looks good. I know it’s not my place to ask, but how do you always seem to have replacements when we need them?”
“Silly” she Veronica covered her lips. “That’s a trade secret, I can’t give away all my secrets now can I”
“I suppose not. So she’s ready for tomorrows parade?” Sam asked.
“Should be, just need to get it packed up and ready to go. And, if I may ask, why do you think it’s a girl?”
“Cause all my balloon’s are my girls. Calling them the boys just wouldn’t be right, you know”
“Well what ever works for you. You have the money?”
“Yeah, right here” Sam pulled out a wad of cash. “Seven thousand dollars, just like we agreed upon on the phone”
“Sounds good. Once I have it packed up I’ll bring it over by the staging area of the parade. Expect me bright and early”
“Good. See you then” Sam responded, walking towards the door then leaving the room.
Veronica turned her attention back to her parade balloon. “Well, time to pack you up for the parade then” she aid to Conor as she walked over to the tube that was hanging from his mouth. With a tug it came free from his lips, causing a light hissing sound to fill the room. But instead of returning to his original form, the parade balloon began to collapse upon itself, slowly crumpling into a pile of rubbery material on the floor. His master no longer acknowledged his human past. Instead he was unceremoniously rolled into a tube like form and stuffed into a cardboard box, all ready for his big day tomorrow.
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The next day proved to be Conor’s big moment. There he floated, among a crowd of other parade balloons floating high above the crowd of little people below. The wind stroked his taunt skin, the roped causing him to bob up and down in the breeze. Everyone was looking at him, and he was ever so aware. The parade was filled with music and cheer, putting a smile under his painted on one. As the day ended Conor was deflated and packed away again, the darkness of the box a harsh contrast to the fun day he had.
A few days or so passed, Conor wasn’t sure as the box opened again in front of him. He expected to see his master but it was the parade crew again. Again he was inflated and flown high in the air for some other parade, and again he was deflated and packed away. This happened again and again, each time filling Conor with a sneaking suspission that this would never end. Soon he was flying over cities that he didn’t recognize, with flags that were not his own. There was no doubt to Conor as to what had happened. He had joined the parade.