Tags: Full Body Inflation, Female Inflation, Offscreen Popping
Text: There were three distinguishing features about Selinia Morosel. First, she was ravishingly beautiful. Her long, silky auburn hair fell down just past her shoulders, and she had shapely legs that might have been planed to perfect smoothness in the craft halls of the gods. Her body was lithe and slender, and almost seemed too perfect to be animate. Sometimes when she moved after standing still for a moment, people gasped that such a beautiful form could take motion as well. Her trim shoulders and oddly gentle arms were legendary. And her face was such that some artists had cried openly, jealous of it's perfection, when they saw it.
The second distinguishing feature about her was that she was devastatingly rich. Still young and three times a widow of multi-millionaires, her accountants struggled just to keep up with counting exactly how much money she had.
The third was that her heart was as cold and sharp as polished ice.
It was therefore with great dismay, but less surprize, that old Jack discovered that Selinia had purchased the old Hampton place. He had been groundskeeper there for many years, under three generations of Hamptons. He still continued to maintain the grounds, although his only income was a moderately generous trust left to him by the last of the Hamptons. But the house was deserted. Although he took great pride in his work, there was no living occupant to appreciate the care with which he tended the lawns and gardens of the estate.
Selinia drove up one day in a cream-colored Porsche, and frowned at Jack as she watched him tending to the sculpted bushes in the front drive. She climbed out of the car in a way that starlets could learn a lot from, then walked toward Jack with a surprizingly easy seductiveness. He stopped working and turned to greet her. "Hello!" he said cheerily.
She did not smile back. "All this will have to go," she said. She pulled a cigarette and a gold ligher from her purse, and lit it.
Jack furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry, miss?"
"Ms.," she said. "And I said all this will have to go. It obscures the view of the front entryway, and when the photographers show up, they'll need all the camera angles they can get. Plus the gate out front needs to be replaced."
Jack took off his battered baseball cap and said, "Well ...um... Ms., I heard about you buying the house and all, and I thought maybe I could take a position with your staff. I know these grounds pretty well." Then he pursed his lips a bit and said, "But these bushes should stay. It gives some privacy and offers some comfort to...."
He stopped when he saw her gaze of complete uncaring fixed upon him.
He continued, "Besides, if I'm going to be working for you, I don't think that..."
She cut him off. "Who said you'd be working for me?" She turned and walked across the driveway, then climbed the front steps of the entryway.
Old Jack crushed his cap in his powerful hands.
The house was a steal, Selina thought. It was sitting on property that was bound to be swallowed by the growing suburbs of the growing metropolitan area. For years it had been a country estate, and a quiet curiosity for folks in these parts, but that would change in the next few years. Already the shopping malls and supermarkets were popping up to serve the suburban community. This mansion would soon be in the heart of it. When she tore the old dump down and sold off all the lands, she would make a killing.
That night she had a dream that she was walking in the middle of a milling crowd of people.
Oddly, she did not find it disturbing. In fact, she gained a sense of enjoyment from their purposelessness.
But then, she always had.
The next morning, Jack knocked shyly on the door. She did not turn. "How did you get in?" she snapped, not taking her eyes from the papers from the attorney.
"Well, Miss.. Ms.... I have the keys from way back..."
"I will need those keys." Now she turned, and held her hand out. "They don't belong to you."
Jack's eyebrows raised. Then he dug in his pocket and pulled out a ring heavily landen with what seemed a million keys. He held it in his broad, leathered hands and gazed at them.
"Well?" Selinia said.
Jack nodded and handed the keys to her. At the last minute she said, "Oops!" and the keys fell to the floor. Which a bored sigh, she said, "Pick those up and leave them on the table. And you can see yourself out." She started to walk from the room.
"Ms. Morosel... there's something I have to tell you. This place, see, it's a special place."
She stopped, and looked at him from under her bangs. "Oh?"
"Yes. You see, the Hamptons had such kind hearts that this home became more than just a home for them."
"It was more than a home?" her tone was subtly mocking.
"No... I mean... not just to them. There were... others...."
"Others?"
"Yes, ma'am. You see the city being so close, and this being such hard country from way back.... well, there just weren't many places where a spirit could find peace...."
"A spirit? You mean like a ghost?"
Jack gulped. "Well, now, we never liked to call them...."
Now Selinia broke out into a grin that was truly vicious. "Are you telling me my house is haunted, Jack? Oh, my, well, then I'll have to sell it. Would you like to buy it?"
Jack gulped and shook his head, "No, ma'am, you don't understand...."
"Good bye, Jack," she said. "I will tell the spirits that you miss them. Maybe I'll have them move in with you when I tear this dump down."
Jack's face went clear with panic. "Tear it down? But you can't... where will..." Absently, one of his strong hands crept up to his chest. His breathing became labored. "Please, I beg you to..."
"Good bye, Jack," said Selina. And then she started laughing openly. That night Selina dreamed of the milling crowd again. Except this time the crowd was more agitated. Some were wailing, some were walking in tight circles. Seeing their distress only exhilarated Selina.
She woke up just as the clock was striking midnight. Or at least she thought she was awake. She felt awake. There was a presence in the room. But she was not afraid. There was a pleasant, earthy smell around the room. Then the presence moved closer. Was it a voice that said, "We're all just trying to find peace."
She muttered, "Jack?"
"Will you help us?"
"Why would I?" she murmured.
"...only want to find peace..."
Then she felt a pair of strong hands, surprizingly gentle, caressing her ankles. The hands drifted softly up the insides of her calves, then to her thighs. Selinia moaned. The presence came to her groin, and then there was a great warmth there. She moaned louder with desire and arousal.
The voice came, softly, "...maybe you need to find peace so you can let us find peace...."
Selinia moaned impatiently. "Oh, stop using your tongue for talking!"
The presence seemed to withdraw. But then it came back, and Selenia felt the warmth again. But then she felt a tug, and sharp pressure. The voice said, "....peace..." and suddenly the pressure built. Then it ended.
Selinia sat bolt upright in her bed. Now she was fully awake. When she looked at the clock, it read 2:30. The next morning, she felt oddly bloated. The tiny red dress she was going to wear downtown to the function she was attending wouldn't zip up. She discarded it for a gauzy white dress with a decorated sash for a belt. She kept trying to burp, because she felt bloated and gassy, but could not. Finally she shrugged it off an headed out to her car.
Jack the groundskeeper lay face down in the driveway, his hands folded under his chest. When the ambulance crew left, they declared that Jack had died of a heart attack, probably the afternoon before. Selinia wondered if her strange dream -- it must have been a dream -- was somehow related. Then she shook her head and decided that was ridiculous. She put it out of her mind, and attended the function. She mingled with all the right people, gossiped with the perfect sources of information, and laid further plans for the exploitation of the grounds she had bought. Feeling so bloated, she didn't eat anything, so it was no wonder that her stomach kept rumbling and burbling the whole afternoon.
When she got home, she nearly burst out of her dress. She was dizzy with hunger and the exertion of meeting with the movers and shakers of the city. She put on a loose robe and went into the kitchen. As she leaned into the refrigerator, a sudden wind stirred up. Something tugged the hem of her gown, and brushed ever so lightly against her leg. She glanced down, but of course there was nothing there. Suddenly there was a moment of pleasure between her legs, and again that odd pressure. And what was that sound that came in just under the sound of the breeze outside? Was it a gently spoken, "peace?"
She took a sandwich and a glass of water into the living room. She felt even more bloated now, even waddling a little. When she put the plate and glass down, she smoothed out the cloth on the front of her robe. She could swear her tummy was poking out a bit.
Well, that's what aerobics are for, she thought, and she sat in the comfortable leather chair in the living room to eat.
As she took her first dainty bite of the sandwich, there was that strange stirring again, and the tug at the hem of her robe. Again the strange wave of pleasure came from between her legs. Then the pressure; but this time she actually felt her stomach push forward. She dropped the sandwich and shot a hand to her groin. What was happening?
She stood, and groaned as her tummy pushed forward visibly. She did not understand. She stepped toward the phone, not sure who to call, when there was another stirring. The pressure was sharper this time, as was the pleasure. Again she heard the faint cry "...peace..." She had to loosen the sash on the robe because it was getting too tight.
She crouched over, and clamped both hands on her groin. Oddly, she was aroused, and her fingers ended up going a little deeper than she expected. But she faced the room and demanded, "Who is this? What do you want?"
Then she felt a slight tingle on her lips. There was a gentle touch, as if a caress. She could see nothing, but the touch was so gentle that she closed her eyes....
There was a pressure in her throat, then she looked down in horror to watch her pert breasts push forward. Her shoulders suddenly felt puffy, too. As she reached up to feel them, there was another burst of pressure between her legs. Now her whole midsection was visibly rounded.
"Stop this!" she screamed. But as she drew her next breath, something went down her throat again. Her chest swelled visibly. She clutched her hands over her breasts, and noted how warm and pleasurable it felt to touch them.
Something tugged at her robe again, and this time the feeling of warmth and pressure stayed for some time. She felt waves of pressure... one... two... three... four... as her body slowly filled. Her arms and legs were becoming puffy, too. She gasped, but something went down her throat when she did. Her breasts were filling, becoming rounded, pushing out from under the robe.
Still the waves of pressure came. She thought, spirits? How many could there be? Enough, apparently, to fill her more. She was becoming rounder by the second, filling and billowing out. She tried to waddle for the door, but her inflated body was too large her her to move effectively.
"No!" she screamed, but it did not slow. She grew rounder and rounder, her chest pushing up against her chin, her arms and legs bulging to the ankles and wrists, larger and larger and larger....
At Bob's Gas and Groceries, which was just down the road and had been for ages, Bob leaned back against the front of the store and smelled the fresh country air. There was a sudden boom, from the distance. He looked up. Thunder, maybe? A low-flying jet? He shook his head. Nope. Guess it's just one of those mysteries. He smiled.
Then, in the wind, he heard a strangely familiar word.... peace....