"You Lose, Bubblegum..."

(Disclaimer: Any acts of transformation, expansion, or mental altercation have been consented to by the owners of the characters affected. Any acts depicted are meant as explorations of the fetishistic psyche, hold artistic merit, and are compliant with the TOS of Patreon).
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Another quick scene for Zamo. I think I might have a thing for this big dad balloon character of his.
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Pop took another off-kilter step towards Zamo. Even with his centre of gravity so thoroughly disturbed by the inflation of his body, he commanded respect with his gait. Anyone else would have succumbed to the buoyancy and fallen over, like a turtle on its back. Pop, with decades of ballooning to his name, made the wide legged strides with purpose and stopped just shy of crushing Zamo with his stomach.

"Didn't pump hard enough," Pop chuckled, deepening his voice and affecting a menacing tone he knew would excite the dragon. "If I can still walk, and I can still talk, then you lose. That was the deal, bubblegum." He rubbed the side of his gut to produce a long, deep creak.

Zamo swallowed dryly. Pop couldn't see the dragon's pink cock over his horizon, but it was stiff and ready to blow.

Pop rolled forward on to his belly and pushed down. It was the only way he could get close enough to grab the dragon in his hands. His coarse palms rubbing against Zamo's smooth latex-like hide.

"Did y'know I was a bubblegum blowing champ when I was a kid? No one could make a bigger bubble than me, or a bigger mess."

Pop vaccumed warm air from the room. His already taut skin turning shiny and pink at the furthest apexes of his domineering sphere, where the tension was at its highest. He stopped stretching just shy of bursting a seam, and locked his lips against Zamo's snout. And blew.