The library. A sanctuary of knowledge, a haven of peace. And now, my temporary office. Mrs. Davison, the head librarian, a kind, elderly woman with a perpetually frazzled air, was delighted to have me on board. She'd known me since I was a kid, a frequent visitor accompanying my librarian parents. She’d even commented on my… impressive growth spurt, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
“We’re extending our hours to 9 pm, Lucas,” she explained, “and we desperately need the extra help.” She introduced me to my co-worker for the evening shift, David, a lanky, awkward young man with a nervous smile and a noticeable Adam’s apple. He seemed… intrigued… by my physique, his eyes darting between my biceps and my… well, you know. I tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
The library was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. Perfect. This was my chance.
I logged onto one of the library computers, my fingers flying across the keyboard. First, social media.
I created accounts on every
Mental Institution Weekend part 8 by casket666, literature
Literature
Mental Institution Weekend part 8
Part 8 Mental Institution Weekend
Chapter 22
Strange feelings
The days passed, and I was so comfortable and enjoying my commitment at the hospital that it was hard to remember what it was like to be on the outside. I asked Amanda about this feeling. Amanda told me it was pretty typical. “They call this effect institutionalization. But not to worry and enjoy the feeling. It will soon go away when you get out and return to the real world.” The odd thing was I was starting to feel the real world was a lot more frightening than here in the hospital.
After a nice day, I spent time in the day room watching the other patients and talking to Kate, the therapist, I was back in my cell, strapped into my hospital bed and fed, and tucked in for the night.
I had just slipped into sleep, when I started awake at hearing the lock of my door slide and the door opening.
“Hello Brian, are you hiding in here?” called out Kelly!
The light came on, and Kelly, with a big smile, walked in carrying a pack.
“Brian this is where you have been hiding out! Come with me if you want to go have some fun!” said Kelly with a Cheshire cat smile.
“OK, but only if you untie me,” I said.
“OK, but only because you asked nicely. I have some clothes for you to wear, so we can go to our room in the pit and have some fun!”
Kelly quickly started unstrapping me from my hospital bed. She helped me up to my feet and gave me a big hug and kiss.
Next, Kelly told me to remove my suicide gown and diaper, then sit down. I did as I was told. Kelly walked up to me and placed her hands on my upper legs.
“Well, Brian, I love how you’re getting so compliant. I love controlling you, and I think you like it too,” said Kelly with a sexy voice.
“I do!” I said.
“I am glad! I enjoy having you here! I love keeping you in restraints. I knew when you asked me to get you committed for the weekend that you would really thrive in this environment, and you have,” Kelly said.
“I really am enjoying my stay. I love that you're here to care for and watch over me.”
Kelly started removing my catheter by deflating the balloon inside me, then gently pulling it out.
Once I was all cleaned up she gave me some underwear to put on.
“Brian, what will we do after you get out of here next year?” asked Kelly, looking up at me.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, we will not be able to spend as much time together as we do now,” Kelly said.
“True, but most of the time, I am strapped into a hospital bed or wheelchair!” I said.
“Yes, but Brian, you don’t know what a turn-on it is for me. It makes these nights that we spend together even more amazing!” Kelly said with love in her eyes.
I said, “maybe we can set up a room in my place with a hospital bed and all the supplies. That way, you can keep me as your patient on the weekends that you come over.”
“Well, that sounds good, but I am not sure that would be enough,” Kelly said with a sexy smile! “But we will see,” she added!
After getting the underwear on, Kelly handed me a repairman’s uniform. I quickly got the pants and shirt on, then socks and shoes. It felt odd to be in clothes and real shoes.
“OK, Brian, here is a black eye patch to cover your droopy eye and fake moustache.” After putting on my disguise, Kelly added a ball cap and a tool belt.
“OK, Brian, you’re now the night repairman! Just remember, you can’t say a word. I will do all the talking!” Kelly said.
“Okey-dokey!” I said
Then we were off and heading for the basement cells.
Chapter 23
Down to the underworld
We moved quietly through the long hallways towards the old parts of the institution. We passed two nurses making their rounds. Kelly said hello to them. I just waved.
I realized that I was much more comfortable in the patient persona than as a non-patient nowadays.
We got to the large iron door to the lower level, known as the pit. Kelly pulled the large key out of my tool belt, looked around, and then stuck the key in the lock and opened the door. I couldn’t help noticing how smoothly and silently the big door opened. We walked in and then shut the door and locked it behind us.
We walked down the narrow stairs to the hallway. We then proceeded down the hallway to our cell. Kelly opened it up, and I walked in. I immediately saw there was some new equipment in the cell.
I turned to Kelly as she locked the cell door and said, “someone had been redecorating.”
Kelly smiled and said, “well, I thought I may have to secure such a dangerous patient like you!”
I looked at the very old narrow hospital bed. It had hand cranks to move the mattress up and down. I then saw the full complement of medical restraints. They were the old-style medical restraints. Three heavy wide leather belts across the bed and attached to the bed frame. The belt near the foot of the bed had two thick padded leather ankle cuffs, the middle one had a padded leather waist belt, and on the sides two padded leather wrist cuffs, and on the top wide belt, there was a padded leather chest belt. On all the straps and cuffs, they had locks that used keys.
“So, do I get to strap you down?” I asked
“Well, maybe later, I have a few things I would like to do to you, in restraints, of course! So strip, patient,” she said with a sexy smile!
I did what I was told!
I lay down in the bed. The smell of leather was intoxicating. Kelly took her time adjusting my body to just where she wanted me to be on the bed and carefully secured my legs and arms in the leather cuffs, then locking all of the locks. Then she placed the waist belt across my waist and pulled it tight. When the same with the chest belt before finally locking both.
“I think that should hold you,” Kelly said with a wicked smile!
After I was strapped down in the bed, Kelly took off her clothes very slowly. I got extremely turned on, and Kelly smiled at me.
Kelly said in a sexy voice, “I see someone missed me!”
She ran her hands down my body and smiles, then says, “delicious looking!” Then she checks my straps, tugging on them to ensure they are tight and locked.
“Well, I think you’re secured, so now I can have my way with you, Mr. Murphy!” Kelly said with a sexy smile.
Kelly jumped on me, straddling me and playing with my member.
Kelly smiled and said in a pouting voice, “I guess you think I am going to do all the work, don’t you? Well, you’d be wrong, my little patient!”
Then she hopped over my member and slid her Coch into my face and told me to get to work with my tongue. I did as I was told with great enthusiasm. After some time and a lot of screaming from Kelly, she slid off and laid next to me and played with my strapped down and restrained body!
“Well, Brian, after I get my breath back, I’ll take care of you!” Kelly said with a breathless voice!
Minutes later, Kelly jumped up and swung her leg over me, and screamed “giddyup, cowboy!” During the following hours, Kelly made very energetic love to me. It was amazing! Kelly was like a wild animal, devouring me! We both came multiple times. In the end, Kelly collapsed on me, and we both fell into a deep sleep.
Sometime later, the alarm on Kelly’s phone started beeping.
“Bummer! Sorry my love, but Brian, it’s time to get you back to your isolation cell,” said Kelly with a very groggy voice.
Kelly crawled off me and started unstrapping me from the bed.
Kelly asked with a devilish smile, “So was that good for you too?”
I looked at her and said in the best voice I could, “oh my god, that was amazing!”
She smiled and winked and said, “I thought so too!”
We both quickly got our clothes on. Kelly pulled up long dark hair into a bun and pulled her cap on, and said, “OK, let’s get you back to your cell before the morning patient checks start.”
We took off and locked the cell door and climbed the stairs, and off down the hallways back to the isolation ward and my cell.
Patty greeted us at my cell door and said, “you two like to cut it close. Let’s get you back into patient mode Mr. Murphy.”
I started to remove my repairman disguise. I have become entirely comfortable being undressed in front of the girls. Because this is part of being a mental patient, with no modesty and no control. Patty had me sit down on the bed and quickly and efficiently inserted the catheter tube into me, then inflated the balloons and attached the tube to the catheter bag at the end of the bed. Kelly packed up my repairman uniform as Patty placed me in a diaper and my suicide gown. I laid down on my bed as Kelly started strapping me down. After a minute, I was completely back to normal, strapped down to my bed in six-point restraints. Brian was gone. Mr. Murphy was back.
Patty said, “well guys, I have to go check on some other patients, so I will bring back your breakfast later.” Patty left my cell and tightly closed the door behind her.
Kelly smiled and said, “well, that was a fun night!”
“Yes! It was truly amazing,” I said with a big smile!
Kelly gave me a long sexy kiss and said, “It’s time for me to check out and go home to get some sleep. I just suggest you do the same, Mr. Murphy.”
She smiled and gave me another kiss, and smiled as she walked out the door and closed it with a thud, and locked it.
Chapter 24
A Walk in the Park
Unknown to me, I was starting the 4th month of my commitment. The time seems to have no meaning to me here, and it just flows. No deadlines or places to go, or people to see! Life was very peaceful!
Patty opened my cell door and smiled and walked in, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She had a bundle of what looked like red scrubs and a white straightjacket.
Patty said, “Dr. Amanda feels that you need to get outside and get some fresh air and sunshine. You are getting a little pale looking!”
We both laughed. I have not seen myself in a mirror for some time, but looking at my own arms, I can see what Patty means!
Patty removed my restraints, connected my catheter to a leg bag. Then put me in a fresh diaper and handed me my red scrubs. I put the scrubs on, then socks and a pair of red Crocs clogs on. Patty had me stand up and stick my arms out, so she could slide my straightjacket on. Patty then turned me around and started strapping me in. Last item is a pair of leather shackles for my legs.
“Ok, Mr. Murphy, you're ready for your adventure on the hospital grounds. Kelly should be here anytime with your wheelchair, and then we can go,” Patty said.
On cue, the cell door unlocked, and Kelly rolled in with a wheelchair.
“Mr. Murphy, let’s go, it’s time you saw the hospital grounds!” Kelly said with a smile.
I stood up and walked to the wheelchair, turned, and was guided down by Kelly. This wheelchair only had a locking seat belt and a belt across my legs to keep me from kicking. Kelly quickly and efficiently strapped me in. Kelly and Patty pushed me in my wheelchair down and out of the locked ward and along a central hallway for a few minutes.
I said, “I don’t think I've been in this area of the hospital before.”
Kelly said, “You're correct. That’s because you have never been allowed outside of the building onto the hospital grounds before.”
At the end of the hallway was a sally port with a door to the hospital grounds and a desk with a security guard. We rolled to a stop and Patty walked up to the desk and told the guard hi and sign me out, so we could go for my walk outside. Once the guard was finished Kelly pushed my wheelchair through the door and outside. We rolled out into a large patio area with tables, chairs, and lounge chairs. There were a few patients sitting and reading or just relaxing in the beautiful sunshine. Kelly rolled me away from the entrance and parked the wheelchair.
Patty unstrapped me, and Kelly helped me to my feet.
Patty said, “OK, Mr. Murphy, let’s go for a nice walk to get you some exercise and sunshine. Doctor’s orders.”
And so we started walking down a path headed towards the tree line. It was not easy for me with my shackled ankles, but I was getting the hang of it. Still in my straightjacket, Kelly hung on to my arm to guide me and give me some extra balance.
The day was beautiful, and I was glad to be outside. We were walking through the trees on the pathway. After some time passed walking down the beautiful path in the woods, Kelly said “let’s stop here.” We all stopped and I looked around, wondering why we had stopped. I thought maybe Kelly thought I’m getting tired, but I was feeling fine.
Kelly turned and looked at me and said, “I'm going to ask you to do something for me. Do you trust me?”
I looked at Kelly and thought, I let you get me committed to a mental institution, temporarily deformed my face, and made my voice sound retarded yea I would say I trust her.
I said, “yes, why?”
“I am going to ask you to do something for me, really for you. So you need to do it when I tell you! I will explain everything to you later,” said Kelly.
I looked at Kelly and Patty and said OK.
I was not sure what was going on, but I knew I would have to do what they asked, no matter what it was.
Kelly smiled and said, “Great, I want you to run as fast as you can and just keep going!”
I looked at Kelly and said, “What?”
Kelly looked at me, pointed at the path, and yelled, “Run.”
I ran, as fast as I could! Which in shackles was not that fast! Kelly and Patty threw themselves down on the ground.
Kelly started calling on her Radio, calling out, “Escape patient, running north on the woods path!”
After letting me get a head start they got up off the ground and dusted themselves off, and started jogging down the trail after me. But before they caught up to me, I was tackled by a hefty security officer who came running out of the woods. I wasn’t knocked out, but I was rattled.
Another two officers came out of the woods and helped the officer who tackled me get me back to my feet. He called out to Kelly and Patty, asking if they were OK? Kelly told them they were OK, but were a little surprised that Mr. Murphy pushed them down and tried to escape.
I shook my head and said in my retarded voice, “I was not trying to escape, a voice told me to run!”
“Well, Mr. Murphy, we call knocking two hospital staff down and running away an escape attempt,” said the security officer!
Kelly asked, “Can you guys take Mr. Murphy to a cell in ward P. I will write up my report.”
Patty said, “I will update his chart and have Dr. Smith take a look at Mr Murphy.”
The three security officers grabbed me and started to drag me back towards the hospital. I just kept saying I was not trying to escape till they told me to shut up! I was unsure what was happening and why Kelly told me to run. After they got me into the hospital, they took me to a hallway that had a sign saying Ward P. As the security officer opened the door, another officer checked the log book to see what room was available. “Take the patient to cell number P-5.” I was taken down the hallway and stopped in front of the cell marked P-5. The officer put the key into the lock and opened the door.
I told the officers this was not my room!
The officer that tackled me said, “well, it is till the doctor tells you it’s not. That’s what you get for trying to escape from the hospital.”
They unceremoniously pushed me into the padded cell. I tripped and fell to the floor as the door was slammed shut. I lay there and wondered what Kelly was up to.
I wiggled and got myself pushed up in a sitting position against the wall looking towards the door. I thought it’s been a long time since I was in a padded cell.
Sometime later, not sure how long because time really has no meaning here in the mental Institution, the door opened and Dr. Smith walked in.
“Well, hello, Mr. Murphy. I understand that you have been a very bad boy today. Knocking down a nurse and a security officer and trying to run away. You know there is no escape from this institution. Sorry but this will not do, I will have to up your meds or give you more shock therapy,” Amanda said with an evil grin!
I looked up at Amanda and told her, “I didn’t try to escape, Kelly told me to run, and I did. No shock therapy, please.”
Amanda stared at me and said, “well, we could do a frontal lobotomy, and that will stop your issue with trying to run away!”
I was in shock! I looked at Amanda and said, “you’re kidding, right?”
Amanda kept staring at me, looking dead serious!
Finally, she could not hold it back any longer and started busting up laughing!
“Oh, Mr. Murphy, I’m kidding! We are not going to do a lobotomy on you! But you should see your face, it’s precious!” Amanda said as she was trying not to laugh.
“That’s not funny,” I said!
“Sorry, Mr. Murphy, but I couldn't help myself, it’s all in the spirit of fun!”
“OK, you really like scaring the crap out of me! So what’s going on? Why did you have me dragged into this padded cell?” I asked.
“Well, Mr. Murphy, we know how much you like being in restraints, so we are ensuring we can keep you that way. Your friend, Kate, the therapist, has been petitioning my superior to have you removed from the isolation cells and moved into the general population. She said that in the time she’s been talking to you, she feels that you’re no threat at all and should not be kept in restraints. So we staged your escape attempt today,” Amanda said with a smile!
“OK, I understand now. But why not tell me about the plan?” I asked
“Well, if you would have known, you would not have had that deer in the headlights look of real confusion. We need the other people, the security officers, and nurses, to see that you were not faking it!” Amanda said, clearly very happy with herself.
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“Well, I'm going to sedate you and let you sleep, and you will wake up fully restrained in bed and in your cell, where you belong. All the reports on your violent escape attempt are being added to your patient records as we speak. So now that pesky therapist, Kate, will not be able to get you out of isolation or restraints,” Amanda said with a smile.
“Okey-dokey!” I said.
“Great! I like it when patients are cooperative and don’t fight the treatments we have planned for them!” Amanda said with an evil smile.
She then pulled out a hypodermic needle filled with a solution. She pulled down the side of my scrub pants and pushed the needle into my rear, and injected the solution into my butt. After removing the hypodermic, she laid me over on my side.
“We would not want you to fall over and hurt yourself. Good night sweet patient,” she said in a sweet voice and smiled.
I was out as I hit the floor.
Some time later, I woke up in my cell strapped down to the bed. I was very secure as usual, but more restraints had been added. First, an open face canvas hood like I had worn before was on my head, and a D ring and strap attached it to the headboard of the bed so I could not move my head at all. No gag or blindfold yet, but I’m sure they could add those later if they choose to. My hands were placed in canvas fingerless mittens. I was very secure in my medical restraints.
Some time later the door opened, and Kelly walked in and smiled.
“So now you see you can’t escape from the mental Institution, and if you try it again, your punishment will be worse!” Kelly said with an evil grin.
“First, you call this punishment? Second, I did not try to escape, and you told me to run!” I said in my retarded voice.
Kelly just laughed and said, “well, we needed to keep you from being moved into the general population, and it was the easiest way to do it. You bad little patient! Well, I have to go back to work, sweetie. You be good and don’t wander off!”
“Oh, I think I will just hang out here!” I said.
Kelly bent over and gave me a very deep kiss, then smiled and waved goodbye. She walked out the door and locked it.
I lay there in my hospital strapped down, unable to move, and loving it!
I thought to myself, “I never thought this experience would be as interesting and peaceful as it is.” Then I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 25
Deeper into the rabbit hole
Kelly asked Amanda to meet her for drinks on Friday after work. Kelly told her she wanted to talk over a few things and did not want to do it at work, she wanted a more relaxed venue.
Kelly was already sitting at a corner table waiting for Amanda to arrive. As Amanda walked toward Kelly, she thought to herself that Kelly was a very beautiful woman when she was not in her uniform with all of her hair tucked under her hat.
“Hello Amanda, it’s good to see you outside of work,” Kelly said.
“Hi, you too!” as Amanda sat down, she continued to say, “So what did you want to talk about, is there a problem with Brian?” Amanda said sincerely.
“No, he is doing well and very happy to be staying with us at the hospital. I’m starting to have thoughts about Brian, and I want to talk to you about it,” Kelly said.
Amanda was intrigued by this statement. “Yes, what do you want to talk about?” Amanda said in a sincere voice.
“Well, I really feel that he is enjoying himself at the hospital as a mental patient. The problem is I am starting to enjoy it, to the point I’m not sure if I want to let him out. I love having him locked away in his cell, knowing that I can drop in and he will be there for me. I know it sounds crazy, and I don’t want to hold him captive against his will. I am feeling very conflicted.
Amanda smiled reassuringly at Kelly and said, “My dear, don’t worry, what your feeling is not bad or wrong. You are just getting into Brian’s fantasy, helping him live it, and enjoying the fantasy yourself. You have to remember most normal people or even patients who are not that far gone would never want this, to be a committed mental patient and Incarcerated in a mental institution. In contrast, our Patient wants to be here, Brian wants this experience and wants to be moulded into, to be treated as, and to become a mental patient. Just living in the moment. I know this to be true from all the tests I have performed on Brian during his stay with us.”
“So what are you saying? What should I do?” Kelly said, looking a little perplexed.
“I am saying just enjoy the fantasy with Brian. There’s nothing wrong with you enjoying having Brian as a captive boyfriend because he wants to be held here in the hospital,” Amanda said.
“I guess you’re right, but sometimes I feel what I did was wrong, getting him in here,” Kelly confessed.
“Why? You're giving him his greatest fantasy, and he could have left after the first weekend. But he didn’t, he chose to stay. So just enjoy your time with Brian. If you want Brian to stay longer, I’m sure you can persuade him to,” Amanda said with a smile.
Kelly smiled and said, “Okay, I will.”
Amanda said, “Great! I have some ideas on how to get more data from my study of Brian.”
“How?” Kelly said.
“Well, once you told me that you like Brian to be subservient to you. So let’s try some subliminal messages the next time he’s in the wet pack. We can give him some keywords to have Brian to act in different ways, like wanting to serve you or pleasure.
Kelly said, “will that work?”
“There have been a few interesting studies about subliminal messages. The studies concluded that under the right conditions, such as Sensory deprivation, read Wet Pack, the participant could be given behavioral suggestions that turned on or off via a command word. After the session, the subject would obey these when prompted by the command word. So during his next Wet Pack, we will play pre-recorded audio of your voice, giving Brian select behavior suggestions for him to follow when the command word is given. You and I will sit down at the hospital and create these commands. They can be ways that he can pleasure you. Also, commands for if we want Brian to act out and be paranoid. These commands could come in handy to ensure staff who do not know Mr. Murphy’s actual mental state will be convinced that he is truly what he appears to be a committed mental patient.
“Also, I would like to take Brian to the next level of being a mental patient. I would like to take some of Brian's perceived control that he has over his situation away,” Amanda said.
“What do you mean take away his perceived control?” Kelly asked.
Amanda said, “Well, right now, even though Brian is a committed mental patient, he still feels he has some control over what happens to him. I want to take the feeling away. So that he feels like any patient here at the institution, this is to see for my study what changes this will cause in his psyche and overall mood.”
“How would you accomplish this?” Kelly asked with great interest.
“The First step would be to get Brian to feel that he needs someone to make medical decisions for him. So we will get him to sign a power of attorney for you to make all of his medical decisions. This will take away his perceived control of his situation,” Amanda said.
Kelly thought for a moment and said, “I am not sure why he would sign over control to me and would it be legal, after all, he is committed to the mental institution by the state court.”
“Well, you will convince Brian it’s in his best interest as a safeguard for his next Wet Pack will be longer, and we may introduce some more drugs to study his reactions. This, I think, will get him to sign because he will feel that you will be the voice of reason during the test and keep him safe. Yes, you're correct. The Power of attorney is not legal because of Brian’s state commitment to the institution, but Brian doesn’t know that, so it is more symbolic,” Amanda said with a devious smile.
“Yes, I could see that would work,” Kelly said, then took a sip of her wine.
“Ok, then I will have Robin write up some very official-looking paperwork, then you and Brian will need to sign it, and I will sign as the witness. This is important, we need to get Brian to sign the document that we are going to create. It will put Brian into the correct mental state so that we can make his patient experience more real and it will create more accurate data for my study,” Amanda said.
“Amanda, will you be able to reverse the programming when we decide to release Brian?” Kelly asked.
Amanda looked at Kelly directly and said, “why would you want to, it’s not like he will be someone else, he will be himself, just more attentive to you and your needs.”
“It’s just, I’m not sure it’s fair to Brian,” Kelly said.
“Kelly, it's like I told you before, the test results tell us this is the way he wants to be, he just doesn’t know how to ask for it,” Amanda said sincerely.
“Okay, Amanda, I will defer to your psychiatric knowledge. Let’s see if he will sign his control over to me,” Kelly said.
“Very good! Kelly, you know in your heart that you're doing the right thing for Brian’s mental health!” Amanda said.
“I hope so!” Kelly said softly.
“Well, now that little matter is settled,
let’s have some more drinks and some dinner.” Then Amanda smiled and lifted her glass and said, “here’s to Mr. Murphy, our happiest mental patient!”
Kelly lifted her glass and said, “may he never regret his decision!”
Prank Gone Wrong - Chapter 2: Cereal and Fish by SweetLuvs1D, literature
Literature
Prank Gone Wrong - Chapter 2: Cereal and Fish
Mitch tried to contain his laughter as he looked at the infuriated Quentin. His face had a slight tint of red on it, and his knuckles were white from the strong grip they were in. The Mudkip sent curses everynow and again between his thumps on the door, but it only fueled Mitch and Jerome’s chuckling.
Mitch turned to his right to face his Bacca friend and found him with a similar expression to his. Jerome was holding in his laughter by clasping his mouth shut with a paw, his eyes squinted and with a few tears. They nodded at each other triumphantly and smirked.
Eventually, the fish became tired of attempting to crash their house to the flo...
Too Big For His Britches by JohnnyToyota, literature
Literature
Too Big For His Britches
Wayne sat down in his seat backstage. They were about to call him on. Pondering the nature of his candidacy, he considered what really influenced them to send him the invitation. He hadn’t heard of this show before, and no one he knew had either. But when he Google’d it, he found that it was one of the top rated game shows ever. Supposedly, everyone went home with something “bigger than they had entered with.” Whatever that meant.
When he had received the invitation, he had found it shoved partially under his doormat, almost as if someone had tried to make it so only he would find it. Wayne lived in the middle of the American Midwest too, corn and soybeans being his only neighbors. Who would trek all the way out to the boonies to give him this? It didn’t even have a return address, just the address listed for him to go to in the letter.
Opening the letter revealed what appeared to be a ticket: on it was a big “Congratulations!” and the information of when the show would be filming. Wayne showed his two roommates, Paul and Chris, who instantly researched the show. The three were struggling to pay their rent this month due to Wayne losing his part time job. After some consideration, he decided to show up for the show.
Wayne was no one special. He was 5’11, had a fairly-built skinny-ish build due to his wrestling training, had brown hair and brown eyes, and a darker skin complexion. His Hispanic heritage was probably the only unique thing about him. His grandparents had immigrated from Guatamala to the United States. He was a first generation college student and was grateful for the opportunities afforded to him in America that his older family wasn’t able to have.
So, here he was. When he had arrived in his nice button down plaid shirt, orange khaki pants, and brown boat shoes, they had taken him directly to backstage and asked him to wait. That was four hours ago. Wayne actually fell asleep during this time, despite the load noises echoing from the hall. He could hear the crowd going wild, but he could also hear the actual gameplay: it was some kind of trivia. Whoever was playing kept getting the answer wrong because there were several long strings of error sounds indicating incorrect questions.
Finally, he had had enough waiting. Wayne got up from his seat and walked toward the ramp that led onstage. “Hey! Wait there! It’s not your turn yet!” Wayne turned around to the voice, seeing that it was a security guard. He reluctantly rolled his eyes and returned to his seat.
It took another fifteen minutes for Wayne to finally be moved on stage. The security team came and escorted him to the stage, but something caught his eye before he went on. From the other side of the backstage hall, he saw the previous contestant coming off. He appeared to be another guy his age. His curly, dirty blond hair covered his face as he put his hands up to it, trying to hide his emotions. He was clearly in hysterics. Wayne, trying to be rational, assumed that he had just really wanted to win. But something about him seemed off: he couldn’t get a good look at it because he was being rushed to the stage so quickly, but something about the guy’s body didn’t appear right to Wayne. He looked like he was almost having trouble walking.
The guards placed Wayne in front of a curtain, told him good luck, then scampered off again. They didn’t even give Wayne time for a good deep breath; the curtain was instantly pulled and a bright light shone directly into his eyes. Cheers erupted in front of him, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, Wayne found himself in a grand concert hall filled with thousands of people.
He slowly walked out and gave an awkward wave. Being a nobody from a town of nobodies, it was overwhelming for Wayne to see so many people in one place. The host, a young gentleman with brown spiked hair and a tuxedo, took Wayne’s hand with a smile and led him to a set of chairs. They sat down and the host motioned for the audience to applaud for Wayne, who blushed.
When the applause ceased, the host began talking. “Welcome to Inflate My Score! I’m sure you’ve definitely never heard of us.” The audience laughed as if they had heard that joke a thousand times. “I’m Ian Wentworth, the host for this show, welcome Wayne!” He put his hand out for a handshake, which Wayne gladly returned.
“Thank you, Ian. May I ask what I’m doing here?” Wayne said. The audience laughed again, this time genuinely. Ian gave a quick giggle and a nod. “Of course, of course. We have selected one hundred random Americans to take part in this show, each one having the possibility to win BIG. How would you like to win big, Wayne?”
Wayne smiled mischievously. “I would love to,” he said. “I just lost my job actually, and I’m looking for the funds to cover rent and other incoming expenses. I’m also a college student, so I need something to repay my student loans with.” Ian grinned. “Can we get a round of applause for Wayne?” The crowd cheered, hooped and hollered.
“Now, let’s begin, Wayne.” Ian got up and walked over to the other side of the stage. There, a giant light wall stood as the background, and two podiums facing each other just in front of it. The light wall looked like a giant bullseye, except it had several hundred rings, each only having the width of one very small bulb. Ian took one podium and motioned for Wayne to take the other, which he did. “The game is played in rounds, each lasting two minutes. In those two minutes, you will attempt to answer as many trivia questions as you can. Each correct answer wins you 100 dollars and you move to the next outside ring on the wall. Lets demonstrate.” He pulled out a piece of white card stock, which he read carefully: “Two plus two equals?”
Wayne laughed; what an easy question. “Four,” he said with a smile. The light wall changed so that the next outside circle of lights lit up. “Look at that, your score is already inflating!” Ian said. He pointed to another part of the wall, a set of digits that said “$100.”
“Now, each time you give a wrong answer, you lose $200 and two rings on the light wall. But don’t fret! You’ll still get those inflated earnings, just in a separate, more liquidated form. You’ll find out, you’ll love it!” Wayne simply shrugged this off. He was a decent student; he would just try to get nothing wrong. He had confidence in himself like he always did with wrestling.
Ian faced the audience, giving a welcoming gesture, then back to Wayne. “Now, Wayne, are you ready to,” he said, briefly interrupting himself to face again toward that audience. On each hand wave, the audience said the words: “INFLATE! YOUR! SCORE!”
The smile on Wayne’s face reached almost to both of his ears. He was hopeful: he needed this extra cash to help him with his current financial troubles. Whatever Ian meant about still getting the winnings when he missed questions wasn’t of any concern to him. Why should it be? He’s still winning in the end, right?
Wayne gave a big nod to Ian, who began to start the game. The first two minute round was an absolute breeze; Wayne knew the answers to every question, and each of them were at most grade school level difficulty. The questions were simple mathematical equations (he was offered pencil and paper), history questions, and even some pop culture. By the end of the round, Wayne had already racked up $1000 and ten rings on the light wall.
Wayne was feeling like he was on top of the world. All he had to do was look at his earnings to hype himself up. What luck did he have to suddenly be able to win $1000 out of the blue? This was like a lottery he didn’t buy a ticket for! He geared himself up for another round of questions, but still expecting them to be harder than the last round.
Rounds two and three were only a little more difficult, and by the end of the third round, Wayne had amassed $3600 as his total. He hadn’t missed a single question, and he still felt the wave of confidence and motivation he did after the first round. But all that was about to change.
“Alright, Wayne, you ready to start the fourth round? I can tell you that you’d better gear yourself up for a good time!” Ian remarked. Wayne nodded. Ian began the clock. “What is the atomic element group with seven valance electrons called?”
Wayne’s mind grounded to a halt. What the hell? He wasn’t a chemistry student; he had no idea what the answer was! The crowd began to laugh at Wayne’s extended pause. He stumbled for an answer, fumbling his hands. He soon remembered that he only had two minutes per round, and needed to answer more questions. It felt like half his time was up already.
“Uh… Metals!” He said, trying to give an educated guess. He didn’t even remember what the periodic table looked like. Ian tried to hide a smile. “I’m sorry that’s not correct,” he said, and continued with the questions. Wayne answered the rest very carefully, being cautious not lose any more of his money. There was only one more question that tripped him up and landed him in the wrong, but by the end he had answered seven questions total. That left him with a total of $3700, only a hundred more than his last.
Wayne began to sweat. He couldn’t break his composure so early in this game! He had to keep his focus and dig deep into his mind to find the answers to these questions. Not only did he depend on it, his roommates did too.
At this point, Wayne felt a new feeling: but he didn’t yet register it in his mind. His khaki pants that fit him a little loosely began to feel a little snug. Wayne, trying to keep his mind on the quiz, absentmindedly adjusted his pants and pulled them up from the belt loops. The result was something worse; he could feel his underwear pushing deeper into his rear end, creating a wedgie.
He didn’t want to fix a wedgie on live TV and embarrass himself. But with each passing second, it became more annoying and almost unbearable. He quickly sidelined himself, facing the crowd and the lights, and reached back to relieve himself. He desperately pulled the underwear from within, finding that it really had little space to go in his tight khakis.
Wayne noticed this tightness now. He felt like he had little space to move back there, but it couldn’t have just been his clothes shrinking in the wash, right? They were only tight in that region after all; the pants barely hugged his thighs and were pretty loose around his ankles. Maybe he just pulled a thread in that region and tightened them up a little too much there.
Unfortunately for Wayne, Ian noticed the wedgie fix. “You feeling ok, Wayne? I hope you’re not feeling too big for your britches!” The crowd roared with laughter. Wayne ceded a small blush and smile, and began to laugh it off too. “I said I needed the money. I haven’t bought clothes for myself in a while, and I’ve grown a lot of muscle since then from working out for wrestling,” he lied. In truth, he felt like he was wearing bell bottom jeans, with the ankles so loose and the tops a little tight.
With that, Ian started the next round. Wayne felt ready, or ready enough to allow himself to not know some of the answers. The first two questions required a bit of thinking: Wayne dug deep into his mind and was rewarded with $100 for each.
However, the third question put the pressure back on him. Ian asked in a monotone voice: “What is the formula for the surface area of sphere?”
Wayne blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Four-thirds pi times radius cubed!” As soon as he finished the words, he was quickly reminded of his pants. It was as if they had gotten a bit smaller again. He looked over at the light wall and watched a ring disappear from the outside.
“Are you making my pants smaller or something?” Wayne joked, moving his hands back to his butt to feel the khakis. His smile instantly turned into a mix of confusion and fear. He had expected to feel his normal rear end enclosed by a smaller pair of the same pants, but he found just the opposite: his normal pants becoming strained to contain two larger cheeks.
Wayne was throughly surprised. This was NOT his ass. He worked day in and day out in the weight room with his wrestling squad to get a nice, toned set of glutes. Whatever these things were, they were completely different. They were pillowy, soft, and almost as big as his hand. Nothing like the cut glutes he had prepared.
“Answer?” said a voice, and Wayne looked up to see Ian staring him dead in the eyes. “I need an answer,” Ian said again, Wayne still with his hands on his butt as he regained knowledge of his surroundings.
“Um… uh… I don’t know, I didn’t hear the question,” Wayne said. With that, Wayne’s worst fear was confirmed true. Hands still holding his ass, he felt it literally grow and expand. He was in shock, immediately turning his head to see it as his hands cradled the newly inflated mass on his backside. It wasn’t much, but if he kept getting questions wrong, this would add up.
But Wayne had no time to ask, he had to answer more questions instead. He knocked out two more questions before the two minute round ended, on which he abruptly confronted Ian.
“Hey! Are you doing this? My ass just fucking grew! What do you think you’re doing? Look at this!” Wayne turned himself to show his rear to Ian and the crowd. It was too late before Wayne realized his mistake. The camera zoomed in on his butt, getting a good view of its size. It was still a humane size, but just barely. You could tell that his khakis were straining to contain the inflation. The buttons on the rear pockets pointed to the sky, highlighting the curve that his ass had taken. It was perky, very noticeable, and, for the moment, actually highlighted Wayne’s athletic figure quite well, despite his desire for a cut rear end. The camera made sure not to miss how susceptible it already was to jiggling; though small, it was there and Wayne felt it down to his core.
The crowd began to laugh, and Wayne quickly turned back around to hide himself. Just as when he realized what was happening to his ass, he finally realized the purpose of the game show. “Inflate My Score!” expanded a little more than just his pocket, but his ass too. Every question he got wrong, he received the “special earnings,” which was a little bit of growth to his butt. The audience could watch his ass inflate in real time when he messed up the questions.
He gripped his soft and delicate cheeks, unsure of what to do. His emotions were a mix of confusion, anger, and fear. How the hell were they doing this to him? How were they allowed to do this? Was it going to stop? The questions flooded his mind.
Ian snapped his fingers and Wayne felt his ass inflate within his hands. His pants began to groan from the stretching, making an audible noise that sounded like a painful cry. It stopped after a few seconds, but that little growth spurt of ass sent Wayne into another bout of amazement. The khakis could only take so much more of this, trying to hold his growing rear end fighting for more and more room within.
“That’s for dropping the f-bomb on live TV!” Ian said cheerfully. He laughed and motioned for the audience to applause, which they did. After it ended, he again took the microphone.
“So, Wayne, how are you liking your new bubble butt? In my opinion, that’s a score if I ever saw one! An inflated one at that!” Ian’s laughed turned almost maniacal. He quickly caught himself and almost instantly returned to his normal demeanor.
Wayne scowled under his breath. He looked like someone had photoshopped him to give him an excessive amount of curve on his backside. In that regard, it wasn’t exactly round; it just jutted out uncomfortably from Wayne’s figure.
An idea popped into Wayne’s head: what if he answered NO questions? That way, he wouldn’t lose what he already had earned, and his ass wouldn’t grow anymore because he wouldn’t be answering anything wrong either. He settled on this new plan and gave the signal that it was time to begin the new round.
Ian dove directly into the first question. Sounding more triumphant, he gave the query. “What American Civil War general led his famous march to the sea?” Wayne even knew that answer, but he kept his mouth shut. It was his symbol of defiance. He wouldn’t have some random guy who invited him on a TV show dictate his life, and also the size of his ass.
“Answer?” Ian asked. He locked eyes with Wayne, who was staring intently back. He knew instantly that he wasn’t going to receive anything. “Fine then. We can sit here until the round is over.”
The two minutes passed, each second held by silence. Not even the crowd said a word. Ian was the first to speak when the buzzer finally rang.
He spoke comically. “It seems big boy over here has decided to ignore the rules! According to the Inflate My Score handbook, the contestant must answer at least five questions in each two minute round. Any question with a failure to be answered will be marked as…” he clapped his hands once, dramatically. “WRONG!”
Wayne was startled as his ass started to expand, slowly engulfing the final open spaces in his pants. Except this time, it didn’t stop after a brief moment. This was his punishment for five incorrect answers. His khakis creaked and groaned as they began to stretch to their maximum. His ass ballooned outward, pushing further and further against the khakis. It began to round out, to look spherical, to appear unnatural and disproportionate to Wayne’s frame. It was almost revealing how much ass you could see with the pants, they were so stretched and fit so close to Wayne’s inflated rear. By the end, Wayne looked like he had two volleyballs stuck in his khakis, so tight that you can’t get them out.
Wayne was frozen in place during the entire process. The sensation of his butt inflating was one he had never experienced until today: but he couldn’t say he hated it. Truly, deep down, he found that the feeling of his ass pushing up against his pants, trying to be free from the khaki prison, was actually a feeling that he enjoyed. The tightness was something that turned him on. But he would never tell anyone that.
Maybe he didn’t have to. Looking down at himself, Wayne found that his cock had gone semi-hard during the inflation. It wouldn’t have been as noticeable if his pants were normal, but they were pulled in the opposite direction due to the size of his ass, and an outline of his dick was only slightly visible. Of course, he thought, right here in front of all these people. Sexual feelings are the only ones humans can’t truly disguise. Especially men.
Wayne was scared to even take a step. He felt like the khakis were going to rip at any second, caused by any sort of movement. Instead, he stood there to be the laughing stock of the audience and to be a subject for the cameras, who had caught the inflation all on video for the world to see. He carefully reached a hand back to his ass to feel it. It still felt like a cushion, and as he lightly squeezed it, it very easily took the shape of his hand. He playfully pushed the cheeks together for enjoyment, at the expense of his cock jumping in its khaki confinement.
“Oh, what a nice pair we have here! It’s not even done, and this is one of the finest looking butts we’ve had on this show!” Ian said, followed with a crowd cheer. He then did the unthinkable: he ran up to Wayne, wound up his arm, and gave his left cheek an enormous smack.
The impact reverberated what seemed like infinitely through Wayne’s cheeks. A storm of jiggles and wiggles rumbled through Wayne’s ass, bouncing them up, down, left and right. This was the breaking point for the poor khakis. Shaken by the slap, the khakis ripped wholly down the center, revealing a supremely stretched pair of smiley boxers beneath them. The khakis dropped to the ground, leaving Wayne standing on stage with just his boxers, his volleyball size buttcheeks, and an extremely red face. The smile on the boxers was distorted from the size of Wayne’s ass.
“Wow! Look at that. Wayne here’s always in a good mood, even when his ass has grown three times the size! He must love it!” Ian then began to walk to the other side of the stage, looking into the moving camera as he walked. “We’ve got a lot planned for both Wayne and you at home, right after the break. So stay tuned! Inflate My Score is going nowhere!” The crowd went wild as the cameras zoomed away from the stage.
Ian quickly began barking orders. “I need the contestant offstage and to a dressing room. NOW! Movers! I need my set reorganized. Please move…” Before Wayne even realized what was happening, a woman in black took his hand and led him to backstage.
She was practically running, and it was hard for Wayne to keep up with the new weight he carried. The constant movement of his behind threatened his balance. Not only that, the inflated nature of his ass, grown in such a tight condition, made his cheeks chafe with one another as he moved. The result was an uncomfortable motion of running that he had never experienced, nor did he ever want to experience. His dick flopped around in his boxers, not fully restricted like it was in the khakis. He could hear some kind of slapping: he wasn’t sure if it was his booty clapping with his movements, or if it was his cock forcefully hitting his thighs with each stride. He was partially hard, after all.
The woman Wayne was following finally reached a small room, and motioned him inside. “Everything you need is already there. Please put on everything and wait here until we come get you again.” She slammed the door on her way out.
Wayne took a second to catch up with himself. So much has happened in short two minute rounds that it was hard to comprehend. His butt had been a normal size not too long ago.
The room Wayne was put in had mirrors for walls. Wayne looked at his ass from every angle, even briefly taking off his boxers to see it bare. Each cheek was completely round, smooth, and larger than he had expected. They were a little sore from the growth, but when Wayne tried to massage them, his cock woke up, so he decided he could do without.
On the far wall was a black wardrobe, large enough to be a gate to Narnia if it really wanted to be. Plastered on the front of it was a note signed by Ian. “Hey Wayne,” it said. “Try this on. You’ll feel like more of a natural if you’re wearing your natural clothes!”
Opening the wardrobe, Wayne found himself dumbstruck. There was a singular hanger holding two articles of clothing. It was his college wrestling singlet, colored white with green highlights and advertising their mascot, the Knights, on the front, and a jock strap.
Wayne’s heart sank. He was supposed to wear this thing on stage in front of millions of people? Isn’t that too revealing for live TV? And how the hell was he supposed to even fit into this thing, given the ginormous size of his ass? He wouldn’t even know where to start to put it on. And forget about the jock strap too. That thing would be torn to shreds.
Wayne reluctantly took the jock strap and loosened it to it’s greatest possible size. Luckily, he found that he could loosen it more than he normally could when he was actually wrestling. Stepping into the strap, he felt the fabric slowly snug up to the bottom of his cheeks, putting into perspective how much they already jutted out past his frame. He could only tighten it a little after putting it on. If it were to grow any more, the strap couldn’t hold much of it.
The feeling of the jock strap cupping his ass, despite his wishes, felt surprisingly comfortable. There was something about tightness that Wayne seemed to love, but he wouldn’t tell that to anyone. And just like before, he wouldn’t really have to, as he could see the front part of the strap moving around below, trying to account for his cock’s arousal.
He sighed and pulled out the actual wrestler singlet, checking it for authenticity. From what he could see, it was HIS singlet, the one he wore in his matches. How the hell could they get their hands on it? Did they modify it for the big changes he had acquired? He carefully maneuvered his legs through the top, feeling the spandex coat his skin just like how he remembered.
Wayne found out the hard way that it was still the same size. He didn’t even have it halfway on before he felt resistance in the rear. With a large amount of struggling, he managed to pull the strained spandex up over his ass at the expense of having the spandex strain on his shoulders. That was the expense of having a onesie. He could hear the spandex groaning as it tried to stretch to contain his new, disproportionate body.
It wasn’t long after that that the woman came back to get him. She stifled a gasp when she saw him; perhaps she had never seen a contestant’s rear end that swollen before. Without saying anything, she held the door open and motioned Wayne to head back toward the stage. He walked this time.
The feeling of the stretched spandex rubbing against his expanded ass with each and every step made him almost want to stop walking in order to avoid any unwanted reactions. The only thing he could do at that moment was ignore it and move on. But how could he ignore that feeling, especially when the singlet continued to get swallowed by his ass with each step? Just like on the stage, he didn’t want to reach back and relieve himself, especially when he knew that the next step he took after that would only reset the issue.
Finally reaching the stage, Wayne parked himself and his volleyball cheeks on the railing. He could feel the metal bar pressing horizontally into his ass and playfully bounced himself on and off the bar until he realized what he was doing.
Thoughts of hate and dread filled his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to get used to it and live like this. He had to stand up for himself somehow.
An attendant came along and began to position Wayne in a place where the curtain would be pulled open. She maneuvered him to the center of the stage, and then turned him to face the side of the stage. When he realized that the woman was fixing him so that his side profile was most visible, he had to speak up.
“Ma’am, I’m not doing that.” He turned himself back to face the curtain, but the woman silently insisted that he turn to the side so the crowd could see the growth sprouting from his rear end. Finally, she had had enough. She grabbed Wayne’s face like a grandma would, clutching his two cheeks between her thumb and her pointer finger.
“Do it, or your little incident here will get more out of control,” she said, releasing Wayne’s face and walking away. Clearly she was annoyed. Wayne, feeling foolishly defiant despite his circumstances, didn’t care, however. As soon as she rounded the corner, Wayne repositioned himself to face the curtain. He instantly regretted it.
He could feel the sensation begin again in his ass, an indescribable feeling that felt like an inaudible grumble. Wayne quickly gripped his butt, futilely pushing his hands inward to stop the swelling. It was no use. Wayne’s ass slowly grew larger in his wrestling singlet, pressing harder against the spandex, becoming more round and defined. Wayne could feel the crack between his cheeks widen as they expanded. The singlet only exacerbated that problem. Even as much as it widened, the tight singlet still pressed his enlarged cheeks together in a most uncomfortable way. Any movement worsened the chafing, and Wayne couldn’t decide if he should stop the growing or stop the chafing. For the first time, Wayne could feel his ass growing outwards to the sides as it longingly searched for more room to take up. However, his hips failed to widen in sync with his butt, so the sides of it could be seen from a front view.
As all these changes were occurring, the black curtain was pulled. A bright light blinded Wayne briefly as cheers sounded from the area in front of him. The cheers quickly transitioned to laughter; Wayne still had his hands on his backside trying to quell expansion.
Fumbling around trying to stop it had returned Wayne’s position to the side profile that the assistant had previously wanted. Frozen in fear, Wayne had not realized the inflation had stopped and still had his hands on his ass. Ian appeared from the side of the stage and took a bow. The crowd cheered and hollered, and when they were done, he made his way over to Wayne.
Wayne himself had still not moved. His face had turned a bright red that was illuminated further by the lights on the stage. As Ian approached, Wayne looked down, not wanting to make eye contact. Ian began to whisper in his ear: “feeling too big for your britches now?”
Ian then took Wayne from the shoulders and spun him so that his ass was facing the crowd. He had to take him from the side to avoid getting uncomfortably close from the back. From the rear, the audience could see his whole butt: every curve, bend, and square inch taken up under that poor singlet. It highlighted roundness of his bloated cheeks perfectly.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Ian had more planned to show the audience the depth to which Wayne had inflated. He squatted down so that Wayne’s ass was eye level and plunged his hands in to his cheeks, squeezing them. Wayne flinched and almost jumped into the air.
The increased size and containment of his butt had seemingly made it extra sensitive. But that wasn’t the only thing that flinched; his cock, becoming more and more confined within the singlet with every extra inch his ass grew, moved with every squeeze and shake Ian sent rattling through Wayne’s enlarged rear end. It almost felt like torture: the pleasurable kind. Wayne couldn’t believe that his body was doing this to him.
After what felt like hours, Ian finally stopped. He had gripped, rubbed, and throughly played with Wayne’s ass as if he had done it before multiple times. Wayne’s cock struggled beneath the jock strap and the singlet. The episode had triggered a full hard-on, something he had been trying to avoid. “You wanna turn around now, Wayne?” Ian said jokingly. “We haven’t even gotten to the next part of the show! Surely you could have held out longer than that!”
The crowd roared with laughter as Wayne reluctantly turned to face it, revealing the growing problem he had on his front side. It was clearly visible due to the stretch of the singlet, and the very tip was slightly darkened from a spot of wetness. Wayne’s face was bright red and covered with a concerned look.
In all that had happened, Wayne hadn’t even noticed the new stage layout. In the center now stood a giant table, and on top of it, a wheel. The wheel was separated like a pie, with many different zones. It was like Wheel of Fortune. Separate boards covered each space on the wheel so that whatever was underneath couldn’t be seen.
“Right this way, Wayne, stand right here.” Ian said, motioning for Wayne to move to his designated place. He reluctantly agreed, and carefully waddled his way to the spot in a way to avoid the most friction between his two swollen masses. Not only were they sensitive from the growth, but they were forced to rub together in the singlet. At a normal size, this wouldn’t had been a problem; but his ass protruded out so much from his frame, creating two round globes that had no choice but to clash. Every step Wayne took was taken with a great deal of caution for this purpose.
Finally reaching his spot, Ian went directly into the rules of the game. “Listen up Wayne! In one of these spots on this giant wheel is a gold star. Spin and land on that, and it’s game over and you get to go home. The other spaces on this wheel include numbers 1-10, indicating the level of ‘earnings’ you shall receive.” Wayne knew what that meant. His nightmare clearly wasn’t over. “Other spaces are surprises! Each round, you will spin the wheel, and there will be an unlimited number of rounds until you land on the gold star. Are YOU ready to play….” Ian turned to the audience, holding out his hands in the air. “Wheel! Go! Bigger!”
Wayne’s hope was slowly slipping away. He really didn’t have a choice, did he? Any attempt to be defiant would only end worse for him. He weakly nodded his head and spun the wheel, hoping to get the star in his first spin.
As the wheel slowed and stopped, Wayne carefully reached over to grab the board, going slowly to prevent any damage from occurring on his backside. With it firmly in his grasp, he turned it over to reveal the number 3.
How instantaneous it was caught him off guard. As if it had no time to lose, his butt began to push outward, inflating at a moderate pace. The singlet began to groan as it was stretched even further, it’s white color making everything more and more revealing. He tried to keep his hands off of it in order to make it less sensitive. Just the feeling of his butt filling up was enough. Almost as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
“What a shame! Only a 3. We can definitely get Wayne here some more!” Ian yelled into the microphone, the crowd returning his enthusiasm. He motioned for Wayne to turn the wheel.
Wayne reluctantly spun it again, afraid that he had failed to read some fine print in a contract that prevented him from not doing so. He watched the wheel slowly halt, determining his next fate. He grabbed the board when it stopped.
On the board was not a number but a sentence: “Congrats! You’ve won a beach vacation!” Wayne looked visibly confused. There was no way they would just give him something like that after all that had happened. Ian took the board from him to show the audience. “Winner winner chicken dinner! Wayne here has won a trip to the beach!”
As if on cue, a trap door opened on the other side of the stage, and a small beach setting rose up from below. It included a small pool of water not even half a foot deep, several beach chairs and an umbrella on some sand, and a beach volleyball set up. Lights from the top of the stage shone brightly on the scene to mimic sunshine.
Ian took Wayne’s hand and dragged him across the stage to the scene at a speed faster than Wayne was expecting. With each step, Wayne felt like he was more trying to stay on his feet than walk; the voluptuous swollen cheeks he begrudgingly called his own threatened his stability. In order to keep himself upright, he transitioned to a full waddle, almost having to squat in order to widen his stance and make himself more stable. But even if he wasn’t going to fall, he could still feel his ass shaking and quaking vigorously with any step he took, no matter how careful.
By the time they reached the beach, Wayne was sweating. It took a lot of energy to move that large of a mass, especially with the combined resistance of the jock strap and the singlet. “What a wonderful beach here! We’ve got everything we need here to have fun,” Ian exclaimed.
“I’m not having any fun at all. I’m going to get a lawyer if you don’t end this! Hell, I’ll get one anyway! Wayne replied. The crowd went almost silent. The smug, malicious look appeared on Ian’s face, signaling his mischievous intentions. “Wayne, Wayne, Wayne.” He said, stifling a laugh. You know what we forgot to bring to the beach?”
“A speedo? You gonna put me in a bikini next?” Wayne retorted, instantly regretting putting that idea in Ian’s mind.
“No, no. We forgot our beach balls! How can we have fun on the beach without those?” The growing sensation instantly returned to Wayne’s rear, making it feel more full than it already was. Like a beach ball being blown up, Wayne’s ass inflated larger and larger. Every new square inch taken up by his ass stretched his singlet more and more. But how big was it going to get? Beach balls came in many different sizes. Not knowing the depth to which he would expand terrified Wayne. He tried again to put his hands on his ass to try and futilely stop it, but he found his hands couldn’t even reach around them anymore.
The audience was loving every second of the show. Cameras focused on his rear and some microphone picking up the sound of his wrestling singlet struggling to contain Wayne’s inflation broadcasted the sound throughout the auditorium. Wayne felt more embarrassed than he had been for the entire night.
As his cheeks continued to fill painfully slowly, Ian circled around to Wayne’s rear. Wayne was too scared to move for fear ripping anything. He could feel the jockstrap struggling to stay intact deep within his crack, which was becoming wider and wider. Ian simply bounced Wayne’s ass from the top, showing the audience the beach ball size and qualities it now had. The feeling of his butt moving up and down while growing, almost feeling disconnected from the rest of his body made Wayne feel euphoric.
“That’s enough! We don’t want our beach balls too large here. How are you enjoying your vacation so far, Wayne?” Ian asked. The growth stopped abruptly. Wayne couldn’t even speak; the tightness on his rear was stimulating him too much. His dick, clearly visible in the white singlet, struggled to get up in the singlet.
“He’s loving it! But now it’s time to go back to the wheel. Lets go!” Ian walked back to the game wheel as the beach scene slowly descended back below the stage. Legs wide, Wayne hobbled back over to the wheel, having to take small but heavy steps. He felt like he was carrying the weight of the world behind him. His hips were aching, his legs were tired, he felt exhausted. But he had to spin the wheel.
Wayne spun the wheel again, having to move his whole body, including his cheeks, to do so. He silently prayed for that gold star, his release from this nightmare. He watched with dismay as the wheel slowed and he picked up the board in front of him. On it was not a number, but another sentence: “Free Massage!”
A groan escaped him, louder than the ones his singlet were producing. How much longer would he have to endure this? His butt could take no massage, it would only be torture to him.
“Congrats Wayne! You’ve won another thing! This time, you’ll be receiving a massage from a special guest,” Ian exclaimed. Where the beach had been, the trapdoor of the stage opened once again to reveal a man and a strange chair rising from the ground. The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, and Wayne questioned his expertise. The chair was even more strange. Of course, normal chairs wouldn’t fit him anymore, so this chair featured two giant holes in the bottom of it where Wayne would have to place his rear. Other than that, it looked like a barber chair with a step beneath it to raise the chair to a desired height.
Dread filled Wayne’s mind as he made his sorry way to the chair, feeling he had no more say in the matter. His life was already ruined. He couldn’t even fit through the door of his house anymore, why should he have to pay rent?
When Wayne reached the chair, he turned around to Ian to woefully voice his concerns. “Why are you doing this? Haven’t you done enough?” Ian just laughed. “It’s all for fun and games! And you’re the game. Take a seat, Wayne.”
Wayne felt a strong pair of hands grip his waist, and turned his head to see the man in the suit behind him, dragging him to the chair. As he placed Wayne in the seat, Wayne felt his ass fit through the holes, making the tightness even worse. Without wasting anytime, the man stepped continuously on the chair step, raising Wayne into the air. Each small burst into the air reverberated in his vulnerable, exposed cheeks. It finally stopped when Wayne had gone about 5 feet in the air, giving the man a view of his cheeks just below his eye level. Wayne felt almost as though he was on a throne.
It started right away. The man started to knead his ass like dough, rubbing it, grabbing it, running his hand down his crack, and more. Wayne felt each and every motion. It was torture: sexual torture. With each small touch of Wayne’s ass, he felt his cock harden within the confines of the singlet. It desperately tried to escape its spandex prison, wriggling around helplessly.
He tried to restrain himself, but the man going to town on his ass was too much. He resisted as much as he could before he couldn’t anymore. His head flew back and the front of his singlet became wet and sticky.
The crowd roared with laughter as Wayne sat there incredibly embarrassed. There was only one other thought going through his head: he had to get revenge. The thought was immediately disrupted by his senses returning, and finding that the massage had not ended. The man in the suit continued to display the pillow-like qualities of Wayne’s bubble butt.
Finally, Ian intervened. “That’s enough. Bring him down,” he said, and the man pressed on the chair step to bring Wayne down from his throne. Ian walked over to Wayne, patted his head, and looked down. “Seems like we have a pretty sticky situation here!” The crowd laughed, and the man in the suit pushed Wayne up out of the chair from the bottom, thrusting his hands deep into each cheek. The force was so large that Wayne almost fell on his face after forgetting how much weight he now had to control.
“I’m not doing this anymore. You’ve abused me long enough.” Wayne said, his voice almost giving out near the end. He sounded weak, frail, exhausted, but Ian didn’t care. Wayne felt a presence behind him, and looked there to see the man in the suit standing directly behind his rear. His front began to touch Wayne’s ass, forcing Wayne to move back to the wheel. As he moved closer, the man began to get more assertive, pressing himself deeper into Wayne’s ass to get Wayne to move. He room the liberty of gripping Wayne’s ass and
pushing him forward.
After what seemed like forever, they reached the wheel. In one hopeless last attempt, Wayne prayed to see that gold star appear on whatever board he picked up. He tried to spin the wheel, but his strength was fading. There was an easy fix to that. The man in the suit grabbed Wayne’s hand, placed it on the wheel, and spun it with a force that nearly knocked Wayne over.
He attempted to regain his balance as he watched the wheel spin faster than he could have ever made it spin. His tired eyes watched it go round and round for what seemed like ages. When it finally stopped, Wayne shakily picked up the board. The contents left him frozen.
Wayne dropped the board. As it rattled on the ground, the cameras picked up not a gold star, but a number. It was a 10.
“NO! STOP! PLEASE!” Wayne desperately yelled. But by then, it had already begun. Without any reservations, his ass pushed outward further in all directions. The two giant, round mounds protruded even more from his frame, becoming larger with each passing second. The bigger they got, the deeper his crack became, pushed together and made more prevalent by the wrestling singlet holding his ass hostage.
Well, that was no longer the case. In a series of violent and disruptive sounds, Wayne heard the wrestling singlet finally tear. The cold air hitting his warm and overworked behind gave him a strange sense of relief. He felt the tightness gradually lessen as his ass expanded, tearing more and more of the singlet right down the middle. It was splitting in two directions and making his crack fully visible to the crowd.
But it didn’t stop there. The inflation refused to cease this time. Wayne began to hunch over forwards to avoid weight of his ass pulling him backward. He cursed gravity as he hunched over and revealed more of his butt. The only thing beneath the singlet was the jock strap, which was painfully tucked down in his crack, so low that nobody could see it.
Finally, his butt stopped growing. Wayne was breathing heavily and sweating; he could break the record for biggest weight squat. He reached back, feeling the fruit of his labor. His ass was now the size of two yoga balls. He pushed a finger into his bare ass, finding that it went deeper and deeper into the pillowy muscle with each increase in pressure.
How the hell was he supposed to go anywhere with this mass? His life was ruined. He was nothing but a plaything now, only to be used for others’ enjoyment. He couldn’t get a normal job, but from what he had heard, people pay big money for sexual pleasures.
Ian came up and sat on the wheel in front of Wayne, admiring his handiwork.
“So, Wayne. How about another spin?”