Tags: Breast Inflation, Butt Inflation, Female Inflation, floating, The Getaway
Text: Rachel smiled at the various diplomats chatting in the lobby as she pressed the UP elevator button, scanning the room in the mirrored surface of the wall. "Good", she thought. "They haven't noticed yet." Why this was so, she wasn't quite sure since she was the only brunette at the reception wearing a clingy red cocktail dress. Then again, her supervisor did say during the mission briefing that Elbonian security wasn't exactly the best or the brightest. Even so, the buffoons had managed to secure every exit. There simply was no way she was getting out through the front entrance. Waiting by the elevator with an outward air of calm and elegance, she desperately tried to suppress the apprehension building within her. When you're in a hurry, waiting for an impossibly slow elevator is bad enough, but when you've just stolen state secrets from right under the Elbonian ambassador's nose, it's panic inducing. A tuxedoed man glanced her way from across the room and she smiled coyly at him, hoping that her calculated flirtation would distract him from picking up on her nervousness. "Was he with the embassy's security?" she thought to herself. "Or worse yet - is he drunk?" The absolute last thing she needed at the moment was the fumbling advances of some low level diplomatic attaché. At last, a soft chime and the extinguishing of the ascent button on the wall heralded the arrival of the elevator car. As the double doors smoothly opened and it made its final horizontal alignment with the ground floor, Rachel peered into it and was relieved to see it empty of other passengers. Quickly climbing aboard, she turning at once and pressed the top floor button. Her precise and purposeful movements made her silky long hair sway gracefully from shoulder to shoulder. As the doors rolled closed, the diminishing view through the vertical seam afforded one last glimpse of the lobby with the archway to the ballroom in the distance. Her eyes widened when she saw the ape-like diplomatic security chief walk through the ballroom entrance in his cheap suit, sunglasses, and simulated earpiece. Though known for secrecy, if not competence, the Elbonians were in a severe budgetary crisis as of late and funding cut backs had been made in the most odd places. At least they'd have trouble coordinating a proper search. Rachel wasn't sure if the burly man had made the connection between the missing girl in the party dress and the closing elevator doors. "This is going to be close" she muttered quietly.
As the car began its ascent, she sprung into action. Pulling a small device resembling a mobile phone from her handbag, she flipped open the cover and pressed one of the buttons on it's lit keypad. A flashing LED and a message on the screen confirmed that there was a camera and a listening device present. Pressing another button produced a spark from the tip of what looked like an antenna on the device, accompanied by an electric crackle that pierced the air. After a pause and another flash of the LED, a second message on the screen confirmed that the camera and microphone had been disabled.
Depositing the device back into her handbag, she fumbled through it momentarily and then pulled out The Package - a small aluminum cylinder - checking it to confirm that it matched the description from the mission dossier. Placing it, too, back in the handbag she looked up just as the 10th floor indicator illuminated above the double doors. As they slid open, she pressed the buttons for each floor below so as to impede the car's return to the lobby, then gracefully slipped out as the doors closed in huff. Down the hall on the left was the stairwell to the roof and, hopefully, the remainder of the equipment for the job. The plush patterned carpet muffled the footsteps of her high heels as she strode towards the stairwell door, gingerly testing its knob as she arrived.
It turned easily and the door opened. "Damn, that advance team was good!" she thought to herself in grateful admiration. Locking the door behind her, she turned to see the stairs to the roof in the dimly lit, dingy stairwell and began the climb up the last three flights to it. The quiet tapping of her shoes echoed from out of the darkness. Reaching the top, she saw that the chain to the door had been cut and the break carefully disguised - just as the planned. Quietly, she reached for the chain to begin unwinding it from the handle. But the moment she touched it, she heard the telltale sound of someone testing the door in the stairwell below. This startled her and she stifled a yelp as her heart leapt into her throat. Regaining her composure, she unwrapped the chain as quietly as she could, opened the door, and stepped out onto the roof.
Immediately, the unmistakable scent of roofing tar washed over her. The night air was warm and dry and the glow from the city coloring the sky orange provided just enough light by which to see. From far below, she could hear the muffled sounds of city traffic. By the door in the darkness, she could barely identify a heavy wooden post left there for her. Next to it sat a bright green jogger's waist-belt pack. Closing the access door, she could hear frenzied activity echoing up from the bottom of the stairwell. It wouldn't be long before her pursuers surmounted their first obstacle. Quickly, she wedged the post between the door handle and the roof surface. With the access door now secure, she pulled the countermeasures device from her handbag once again and quickly ran a sweep around the immediate area, disabling several more hidden cameras.
She grabbed the green pack and unzipped it, reached in, and pulled out what for all intents and purposes appeared to be a glass Coca-Cola bottle. It resembled one so closely because, in fact, that's what it was. To the casual observer there would be nothing unusual about it. But the brown, bubbling liquid inside wasn't Coke - at least not all of it was, anyway. Rachel held it by the neck and shook it slightly, holding it up to her face and watching the bubbles as they formed. "Good", she quietly exclaimed. "It's still fresh". At this thought, a giddy nervousness overcame her and she barely suppressed a giggle. She walked over to a short wall a few feet from the stairwell door, placing the bottle, the green pack, and her small handbag on it. In a purely reflexive manner, she quickly looked back at the blockaded door, her body language more resembling that of a schoolgirl about to sneak a cigarette than that of a top government operative, deep under cover. In the darkness, she smiled to herself and blushed at her reaction as she contemplated its reason. Behind her the silhouetted roof access shaft was framed by the glow of the evening city sky. When she looked straight up she could see the twinkling stars beckoning her and she held her gaze skyward momentarily, taking in the wonder of it. A soft breeze out of the West wafted over her, holding promise that she should be able to reach the rendezvous point without trouble. She picked up the waist pack and searched through it for the bottle opener that was supposed to have been included, found it, and placed it on the wall beside to the bottle. Next, she picked up her tiny handbag with The Package still inside and stuffed it into the now empty pack. Once the bag was secure, she partially zipped up the pack and then proceeded to put it on, fastening the clip around the small of her back.
Her pulse quickened slightly. Her giddiness became an intense case of butterflies-in-the-stomach.
"First things first", Rachel thought aloud: she needed a mooring point. Looking down into the darkness of the black-tarred roof, she searched for something with which to slide a toe under. Finding a nearby electrical conduit that was suitable for the job, she slipped off her shoes, grabbed the bottle and opener, and walked over to it. One of her big toes just barely fit underneath. She tested to make sure it could be easily removed and then reinserted it. It was just snug enough to hold her.
With that out of the way, she reached up with her right hand and placed her thumb under the pleated fabric of the dress's left shoulder strap, tenderly slipping it down over the soft curve and allowing it to dangle freely over her upper arm. Repeating this with the right side, the now loose fabric of the dress fell forward, exposing her chest to the night air. Knowing what was on the itinerary for the evening, she had gone braless. And, besides, the beautiful red dress wasn't intended to be worn with one.
With the bottle in one hand and the opener in another, Rachel removed the stamped metallic cap with a practiced confidence - being careful not to let it escape. She then held the bottle up to the night sky as if to propose a toast to the evening, smiled, and then brought it to her lips. With a quickly whispered "bottoms up!" and a knowing smirk, she quickly downed its contents. Beneath the sweet, bubbly cola taste of the liquid, she could detect the chalky flavor of the active ingredient.
The clock was now running.
With barely enough room left in the waist pack, Rachel stuffed the bottle, the cap, and the opener inside and zipped it up securely. The loose front of the dress was now partially covering the pack and the shoulder straps had slipped farther down, sloughing off from her elbows. With everything safely stowed, she stood up straight and slightly outstretched her arms, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back waiting for the first sign that the process was working. A few moments later, she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach; a feeling which quickly began to radiate outward. Her skin began to feel as if it were tightening and thickening ever so slightly. With one hand she softly pinched her stomach, testing its elasticity. Cupping a breast, she felt that it had firmed up and had become slightly rubbery.
As successive waves of tingling and tightening washed over her and faded away, a gurgling in her stomach signaled the next phase. Rubbing her abdomen to quell the tickling the process induced, she could hear a faint but rising hiss.
Her concentration was soon broken by the attenuated sound of the hallway door coming off its hinges echoing from out of the stairwell. She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder as the sound of heavy footsteps and angry voices grew louder, approaching the rooftop door. She jumped as the men began pounding on the inside of the door, unable to open it in their frustration - yet.
Rachel furrowed her brow, closed her eyes, and resumed her concentration.
The tightening of her skin returned, but this time she explored her body with her hands as it did. Pressing one hand into a thigh and another into her belly, she could feel each slowly pushing back. Reaching around to her backside she could feel that it, too, was growing. The feeling was wonderful - the micro fibers of the red dress caressed her skin as she expanded outward, pulling it taught over her lower body and flattening the it's pleats and wrinkles. She could feel the belt on the green pack began to tighten around her waist.
Angry voices in a foreign language barked orders at one another as the pounding at the door grew more frantic.
She could feel her shoulders and arms puffing up slightly, the soft expansion pushing her arms up a little more than she already held them. But it was her hips and thighs that were inflating the most. As her already ample curves began to strain the dress' fabric she could feel the soft pop-pop as the surface friction would briefly catch and then relinquish the fibers sliding across her hips and belly. Her thighs pressed into each other as they expanded, softly competing for the remaining free space inside the garment. Her waist was still almost as slim as normal, but now flowed into her hips in a delicious curve. Beneath the green pack's plastic buckle, the small of her back transitioned into a curvaceous backside. Had she been wearing only a bikini, it would have revealed deep cleavage there. The hissing grew slightly louder and began to take on a hollow quality as she felt her belly tighten slightly. But poking and prodding here and there, she was surprised to find her skin still quite soft and warm and supple. And although her nipples had become erect and her breasts had perked up a bit, her upper torso had yet to see much expansion. She tilted her head back a little bit more and reached a hand up around the base of her throat, rubbing slowly in a circular motion, trying to detect some expansion while letting her forearm press against her breasts. Holding her other forearm across her belly, she soon found that the expansion had stopped there as it had stopped everywhere else. Standing up onto her toes, she bounced up and down slightly, checking to see if any buoyancy had been achieved. Nothing to speak of yet - she opened her eyes again, and looked over to the door, biting her lip in the process. The butterflies were back and migrating into her throat.
The voices briefly subsided, only to be replaced by the loud crash of a battering ram as it was leveled at the door, startling her.
"Come on - Come on!" she growled through gritted teeth and closed eyes. Almost as if on command, she suddenly felt pressure in her chest. Shifting her left forearm up from her abdomen, it met with the bottoms of her breasts sooner than before. She quickly cupped both of them in her hands and could now feel them pressing out, filling and overflowing her palms. The pulling and tugging of her skin as they ballooned made her to feel as if she were taking a deep breath while wearing a very tight sweater - feeling that she rather enjoyed. As they inflated, the hollow hissing grew in intensity and dropped in tone and she could feel the process accelerate.
Hugging her chest now, each breast grew into her embrace and pressed against her forearms. Relieved, she smiled and threw her head back, closing her eyes once again. She ran her hands gently up and down the soft skin of her thighs letting the fabric gather between her fingers. The smooth skin squeaked slightly under the caress.
BANG! Another blow to the door. Rachel flinched only slightly now, her concentration affixed to her magically pneumatic body.
The inflation caused her breasts to not only grow outwards, but out the sides as well, preventing her from placing her arms straight down without springing back up. Again, she bounced on her toes to test her buoyancy. But this time as her spherical boobs bounced, they spent less time coming down than before. Opening her eyes, she found that they had bobbed up into her chin and that her nipples were pointing skyward, showing the way. Bringing her hands up to them, she pushed them back down against her ribcage and then let go. They quickly rose up and bounced off each other, making the familiar "toonk-toonk-toonk" sound that a helium balloon bouquet makes when it is briefly disturbed. Playfully, she pressed down on them again and let go, noting that they came up more quickly this time - the inflation was progressing quickly, now.
She tried another hug of her chest, but found that its accelerating growth prevented her from reaching around and clasping her hands together. In the dim light, she could see that the surfaces of her breasts had also begun to take on a shiny quality. With her arms still straight out in front of her from the failed hug attempt, she pushed them together with her elbows, slightly deforming them and causing them to squeak in complaint.
BANG! BANG! BANG! Continued the din at the rooftop door.
Her growing assets were now taking up most of her field of vision. Though they didn't need much support, she placed an arm under each and could feel them spreading as her balloons inflated. She was amazed that her tan skin still felt soft and warm and as she pressed her arms into them.
As they gained lift, her breasts became less round and more like the inverted teardrop of a hot air balloon. The hollow sound of the inflation became more distant as they blew up. All Rachel could now see was a massive canyon of tanned cleavage in front of her. She could feel the bottom of each breast brush against her thighs, the springy surfaces bouncing off one another. By now, the buoyancy generated by each breast tugged hard enough on Rachel's upper torso to cause a pronounced arching of her back. Looking to either side, she could see that they had grown horizontally as much as they had vertically and she gave up trying to hold her arms under each, opting to let them lazily fall back. Her breasts bobbed up above the roofline of the access door as they tugged her skyward like two large helium weather balloons.
The pounding at the door had stopped and the harsh sound of power tools now filled the rooftop. The men would be through the door soon.
Finally, her body reached neutral buoyancy and then beyond. She couldn't touch her heels to the ground without considerable effort now. Quickly enough, she could feel that the inflation was subsiding and that soon it would be time to let go. With each balloon breast now more than twelve feet in diameter, she was quite a sight to behold.
The men were almost through the door.
With her arched back almost horizontal to the ground and her expanded thighs and legs the only tether holding her down, she made one last look around the darkened rooftop, closed her eyes, and pulled her foot out from under the conduit. Immediately, she shot upwards into the night sky, her inflated body and incredible balloons turning in lazy circles. The city horizon stretched in all directions and as the Elbonian embassy building receded, she cast her gaze to the East. In an hour, she would be descending into the forested foothills where the team would meet her. She smiled - the mission was almost over.
Back on the rooftop, the Elbonian security men finally broke through the rooftop access door, in an entrance that would have given the Keystone cops reason for envy. Shouting excitedly, they stumbled in the dim light and searched the area for the woman in the red dress, clutching their simulated earpieces while pushing their sunglasses back up on the bridges of their noses. Alas, she was nowhere to be found. The only tangible evidence of Rachel's presence was the pair of high-heeled red shoes she left behind. These were soon found by one of the men. Shouting into his simulated lapel microphone, he brought the dainty red shoes over to the Security Chief who stood there with his arms folded, contemplating the successful find and wondering if it may mean a promotion and a new pair of sunglasses. And then, from somewhere in the distance, he could have sworn he heard a woman giggle.