Birthday Balloon: Will the Wrecking Ball's New Suit

Ben caressed the blonde’s cheek. He smiled, deeply, in the way Will found impossible to resist. The way the corners of his mouth dimpled from the enormity of his cheeks, and creased at his eye, giving him that powerful but unpredictable look. The look of a supervillain. He ran his hand down Will’s undressed body, raising goose bumps as he went. His fingers stopped to dig into Will’s stomach, soft and pliable. Incomparable to Ben’s latex-wrapped wrecking ball, but protruding and wide enough to be noticed. Ben had instructed him to gain weight over Spring in preparation for today, but he would not tell him why, and Will honestly preferred things like that. His boss, the supervillain, Biohazard Ben had a way with surprises. Though despite the mystery, it was hard not to guess why an inflation-themed supervillain might want one of his henchmen to fatten up for him. Ben ended Will’s deep thinking with a squeeze of his thigh. Will whimpered involuntarily, he had been touch-starved for months because of long work-shifts at his office job leaving him little time to meet other men. Being felt up by the virile head of a secret supervillain organization was... stimulating, to put it mildly. Ben had noticed the outline of an erection in his purple boxers and hummed.

“Feeling a little bit pent up?” Ben asked and rose to his full height. Even without his signature enormity he was a tall man, and wide too. He was at least eight feet tall, and wide as a car. His black suit covered him from neck to toe and shone a subtle shade of purple when it caught the light. It groaned whenever he walked and his huge thighs stressed the latex, or when his monstrously powerful arms - raised over his head - tested the elasticity to its limits. It always looked ready to burst off him, like a rubber band constantly stretched too far, and yet it stayed with him when he inflated to his gargantuan sizes. Lucky suit. Will thought. Wishing he could be wrapped so tightly to Ben’s body. Fuck, he was horny. He crossed one leg over the other and sat with a curved back and arms over his propped-up leg to hide his boner.

“Just a little. It’s been quiet for the last few months; I’ve not had much time to meet up with friends.” Will replied as casually as he could, trying to diffuse the horny tension.

“Not enough time to get the bike-pump out and have some chub from a dating app ride you?” Ben grinned. He always grinned. Sometimes Will would watch his face in the hideout, just to see if the grin were painted on.

“What... did you want me here for again?” Will coughed. “I mean, I doubt it’s to just feel me up and talk about my sex life.”

“Or lack of one.” Ben quipped. “And I’d be more than willing to help you break that dry spell, if it weren’t this specific day,” Ben walked across the lab to a table replete with complex machinery and what looked like a metal box with a conveyor belt.

He watched Ben as he walked. Had he inflated his ass cheeks, or was the suit always that... defined around the crack? Fuck, fuck. Stop thinking about his ass. Think about the suit. Okay, the suit. Will tried to distract himself by recalling everything he knew about Biohazard Ben’s signature costume. To some effectiveness. Will had been told the specifics of the suit before by another henchman in research and development, but beyond retaining the fact that it was called “nano-stretch” or something similar, the technology which made it possible flew over his head. He did know one other thing, actually... it was hot as hell, and he wanted one.

“Do you know what today is?” Ben tapped a sequence into a keyboard attached to the box. There was a sound like thick, gloopy liquid being siphoned by a powerful hose. Then stretching, lots and lots of stretching. The sensory input of so many rubbery noises was hell for a someone with a balloon fetish like Will. Who flushed scarlet and avoided eye-contact when Ben looked at him.

“No.” Will replied, meek and overstimulated.

“It’s your birthday,” Ben walked to the far end of the table. Something had come out of the box, something shiny, sleek, and sexy.

“No way...” Will’s jaw dropped.

“As of today, you’re promoted to the elite of the Biohazard Blimps, and that comes with a change of wardrobe. This is yours now, Wrecking Ball.” The image of a large purple bomb, with the Biohazard symbol in black painted over it, sat on the stomach area of a shiny full-coverage latex suit. Will stood up, erection be damned, and practically sprinted to claim it from his boss. He didn’t waste any time putting it on, even forgetting to take his underwear off first. It was loose, but Ben pressed a button on the attached utility belt. The suit hissed out air, creating a hermetic seal over Will’s skin. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he could feel the coolness of the lab through the “latex.” Ben clapped him on the shoulder, and he could feel the collision of the two suits as if he were naked.

“This is amazing.” Will said, and looked at his hands. “But... why did you want me to put on weight for today?” He looked up at his boss. “And you remembered my birthday?”

Ben guffawed. “Of course I did! I’m a supervillain, not a dick!”

“Heh, guess not.” Supervillains being the nicest people Will had ever met was an arresting discovery, but by now he was used to it. After all. They didn’t really hurt anyone; they had no fatalities and barely any injuries during their heists. Sometimes Will wondered if he had really joined an evil organization, or just a Well-organized fetishist group. “Thank you... thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Wrecking Ball.” Ben leaned in. His eyes, his deep purple eyes, were glowing brighter. That meant he was powering up.

Will stood his ground. Whenever Ben powered up, someone was going to get BIG. The fact that he was not inflating yet meant he was not charging up that superhuman Purple Gas for himself, as it began to leak from his grinning mouth. He was going to use it on Will, and Will was ready for it. “Got to break in the suit, huh?”

Ben nodded. Cheeks and double chin bloated like a croaking frog. He leaned forward, and with a lascivious kiss, filled Will with Purple Gas. He felt a tingle, a split second of numbness, and then it was all hands-on deck. His body was on fire with pleasure. He grew taller, and wider. His stomach and chest filling up, rounding out. Arms and legs trembling and becoming completely unbendable as they ballooned cartoonishly. Will’s fat cheeks smooshed against his eyes, forcing him to squint. He noticed the roof above him parting, allowing him passage into the sky above as he became lighter than air.

“Enjoy yer birthday present!” Ben laughed uproariously and gave Will the urge to GROW.

The lab roof opened somewhere in the depths of the city. Will grew so large, so quickly, his ballooning flanks squeaked against the glass windows and matte exterior of skyscrapers and office buildings. Upside down, with the main orb of his now utterly inhuman balloon-body floating upright, he could see people in the buildings he squeezed against and revelled in their reactions. He laughed and laughed hard. Delirium from the pleasure pulsing through him like air pumped along a hose into a balloon rendered him loopy, and he loved it. He was so carefree, perhaps a bit too unhinged, but he was a balloon. Balloons should not be serious.

He had not put on a mask before Ben inflated him, so people would see his face. He was a balloon now, and forever. A known supervillain. The Wrecking Ball!

His rapidly increasing buoyancy gave him the upward momentum he needed to clear the cramped cityscape with a comical BWOOMP. The sudden dislodging caused him to rotate, like a looming planetoid turning to face the camera. “Ooooooh... fuck...” his voice had grown impossibly deep, rumbling, and LOUD. He could hear less and less of his surroundings as purple gas whistled out of his ears and nose, and his erection - a lewd bulging outline on his southern hemisphere - throbbed to warn of his impending detonation.

He did not have time for a speech. But he wanted to yell something, yell his magnificence. He inhaled, ready to shout, and hastened his detonation by accident.

“HERE COMES WRECKING BALL, THE HUMAN BALLOON-BOMB! GET WRECKED YOU TINY--”

Will’s elasticity reached its send. Something snapped. He was subject to a rush of oozing pleasure from deep within that destroyed him mentally, and his body expanded with a fragile rapidity where he tripled in size but only for a split second before coming apart. Like a balloon, one moment he was there, the next moment he was gone in an almighty sonic boom that left a city-spanning cloud of purple gas in his absence. His climax was sudden, but so sweet. A long, unrestrained moan lingered in the air when the blast subsided.

Hours later. Back in Ben’s lab, reformed and with a subtle ache. He grinned, still riding the high of his detonation. “Best birthday blast ever.”

Ben was there, looking down at him. “Oh, don’t say that, you’ve still got some birthday balloons left to play with.”

Will’s vision focused, and over Ben’s shoulder he saw his fellow henchmen. Blown up, laughing, bouncing, and ready. “Time for round two.”

Ben helped Will up from the table and handed him a pump. “Your turn to set off some fireworks, Wrecking Ball.”