Club Expanse

First of two commissions for Brucealo (https://twitter.com/fattrash1)!

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Jason checked his phone for the seventh time in the last ten minutes. He went through the usual cycle of apps, and then made sure his friend hadn’t tried contacting him. It was unlike Seth to fall out of contact. Any other time they went out to a nightclub, Seth was the compulsive texter. A message to check you were awake; a message asking how long you would be; a message when you were in the taxi; and a message before you inevitably met up with him outside of the club. He was an anxious man. But Jason quite liked the thoroughness of his routine check-ups, even if they did verge on annoying. Without them, something felt off. Jason checked his phone for the eighth time in the last ten minutes. There was still no sign of Seth. His status on MessengerApp was set to red, meaning busy.

That was odd. Seth never set himself to busy. He was known for always being available. Whether it was for a chat, a cry, venting, or otherwise, he was the one you could talk to at any hour of the day. Sometimes any hour of the night, too, which made people wonder if he ever slept. Jason scrolled through their recent history, reaffirming the details of tonight’s meetup.

PandaPal93: Hey!

B-Bison: Hey, where are we going tonight? I forgot the name, lmao.
PandaPal93: we just saw each other like four hours ago, how’d you forget????
PandaPal93: It’s that new gay club, it’s called Expanse! Kink friendly, queer inclusive. Looks fun!
B-Bison: oh no it’s not gonna be one of those ones we need like, a harness and stuff for is it?
B-Bison: cause they’re expensive, and i’ve saved my money for drinks tonight lol

PandaPal93: I might wear my singlet ;) But nah if you’re not dressing up, I’ll just go tanktop and shorts.
B-Bison: Same. im wearing the pink one with the bison print, so don’t wear your pink one!
PandaPal93: Pretty and Plump in Purple it is then! I’ll see you there, text me when you get in the taxi!

B-Bison: in the taxi
B-Bison: omw to the front door
B-Bison: im almost inside where are you
B-Bison: seth???? hello??????

Jason sighed. He wasn’t uncomfortable in crowds, but this one felt different. He wasn’t the tallest or broadest man in the world, but he wasn’t particularly tiny either. A bit below average height, he made up for perceived shortness in his friend circle of tall gays by being unapologetically fat and proud. He had the widest and roundest ass out of his friends, too, which he thanked his mother for every time he posed to show it off. His hips were wide and gave him a pear silhouette, juicy, he liked to say. He loved the way his moobs and belly created a sloping effect with his tank top. How it made the photo print of the bison look three dimensional, because of how his belly pushed it out.

But here, he might as well have been three feet tall and thin as a rail.

The man in front of him with his bald head and flowing red beard had the visage of a Viking king. The size of a plundering barge. And the harness he wore over his otherwise naked torso brought images of a mead hall to mind. In front of him was a couple, two women, who were living up to the epithet of “blonde bombshell” with their black latex catsuits and long rope fuses leading down from their backs. Odd, but each to their own. Behind Jason was the most muscular man he had ever seen in his life. He didn’t have the cut and sculpted look of a competing bodybuilder; he was just an overwhelming totem of strength. Muscles so thick in every nook and cranny of his body, that Jason swore he was full of air. The way he seemed to shine reinforced that thought of being filled with air. But he was probably just oiled up. Jason couldn’t fault him for wanting to look his best.

Jason went back to his phone.

B-Bison: im not comfortable going in on my own

B-Bison: so if you don’t answer before i get to the bouncer im just going to head to one of the normal bars
B-Bison: okay??

He waited for a response. The bouncers were larger than the already super-huge patrons. Like Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade floats, pneumatically charged muscles and power-lifter bellies, squeezed into their uniforms within an inch of the fabric’s life. They looked like they should be tethered to nightclub’s neon sign. Where they could float like a pair of advertising blimps, with promotions for Expanse glued to their flanks. Somehow, they had no trouble bending down to pinch the comparatively tiny drivers licenses and other forms of ID from the patrons, before checking them over and allowing them inside. There was only one man already drunk enough to challenge the bouncer’s decision to keep him out, on account of how he’d been spouting insults and disturbing the peace.

If there had been any question in Jason’s mind that the two bouncers with their slick black hair, and enormous upper arms were not as freakishly strong as they were freakishly big; the way they hurled a drunk man like a softball across the street dispelled all doubts. Jason had a good look at the bouncers, and he was in lust. They were something out of his wild fantasies, the ones he lied about not having when he flirted with ‘normal’ men. Telling a stranger in a regular gay bar that your “ideal man” was someone who looked like a cartoonish rendition of a powerlifter had the potential to result in ridicule.

When he saw one of the bouncer’s suits begin to strain, he saw every delicious curve in his upper arm. Bicep and triceps pumped up with pure power. Deltoid so thick it set a hard cap for how high he could raise his limb. Thick neck, practically fighting for space with his traps. He looked so thoroughly destructive, and that made Jason’s shorts grow tighter. He suddenly wished he’d worn something other than the shiny, rubber underwear he’d been talked into choosing by Seth.

Vrrrrrrrrm...

Jason checked his phone. He shook his head, bringing himself out of his lusty headspace.

PandaPal: im insde lmao
B-Bison: where have you been????
B-Bison: you always answer right away, you okay?
PandaPal: lol m great, seeer tyou insdie

B-Bison: how’d you even get inside?
B-Bison: seth? hello?????

“ID?” Jason looked up, meeting the eyes of a muscle-bound bouncer. He meekly went into his wallet to find his driver’s license and showed it to the looming club guardian. “Proceed,” he lifted the velvet rope and ushered Jason inside. The rapid pulse of electronic music with heady bass, and the smell of alcohol, sweat, and cologne stung his nostrils. This was a nightclub alright. So far, beyond a few interesting patrons in the line, he didn’t see why Seth had been so desperate to come here.

“Bruuuuuuce!” Seth called out, loud, even over the music’s throb. 

“I’ve been trying to reach you for so long, where have you b-- holy shit,” Jason exclaimed. Seth had always been fat, but he wasn’t fatter than Jason the last he checked. The brown haired, fat cheeked, bespectacled friend he remembered was enormous. He had at least doubled his weight, his stomach large, protruding, like someone had stuck a tyre pump in his navel and went to down. He even looked taller, with puffy limbs to match. Jason had to blink and do a double take, convinced he had someone inhaled someone’s cloud of weed smoke and gotten the contact high of his life to hallucinate whatever he was seeing waddle in front of him.

“Bruuuuuce... this place is awesome, sorry, I’ve already had a few drinks... hic!” Seth’s face was flushed. There was a purple tinge to his cheeks, but that might have just been the lights.

It took him a minute to notice. Seth was shirtless. Yup, just. Tits out, guns out, belly out. Seth could be an exhibitionist in the bedroom, they would couple up now and then when the urge struck, but he rarely stripped even when he was completely hammered. “Are you alright?” Jason was worried now, Seth had taken something, or someone had put something in his drink. He wasn’t like this normally.

“Oh, I’m better, this club is POPPING, heh... hic... like I’m gonna be.”

“You’re... gonna pop?” Jason scratched his head.

“Come on, just have a drink and relax.” The fat-pumped behemoth, which was presumably Seth took Jason by the hand, and let him through the club. It was a wide-open space, much larger and more luxurious than the outside had suggested. It was built up of concentric tiered rings, the outermost platform being the highest; and the innermost being the lowest, with a walkway that led to the coat room and entrance. There seemed to be another set of platforms which had been cleverly suspended up above to look like they were floating. VIP booths, maybe? Jason wasn’t sure how anyone accessed them, they were so high up and there were no stairs or elevators.

By the roundness of the patrons, and the amount of balloon and blimp paraphernalia about, maybe they floated up? That’s silly, Jason thought.

Jason was probably average sized in Expanse. A feeling he sort of welcomed. It was tiring to go clubbing when the target demographic was thin, white, and rich. Here, there was an eclectic mix of people. It made him more comfortable to see others with darker, dark tan shades of skin and full, curvaceously fat bodies like his, dancing like no tomorrow. Though he envied some of the throng with envy, so many people had unbelievably full asses. He liked a good ass, but damn. How were some of these butts possible? 

Seth had run off again. Jason sighed, and tracked him down by asking people if they had seen a runaway nerd who was giggling incessantly and looked like he lost a fight with a bike pump. He ran into at least four people who met that description, some who looked to be on the verge of bursting if they took one more breath or sip of their rum and cokes, before finding Seth.

He was going into a side room, which opened into a stairway. Jason followed; Seth hadn’t responded to his calls. He caught up to him, a bit perturbed by how the swanky nightclub aesthetic stripped away to surgically steel walls and panels the deeper he went. When he finally caught up to Seth, he was in an embrace with someone. Figures. Leave that boy five minutes alone in a room full of kinky fat queer people, he’s bound to already be slipping someone the tongue.

“Seth, come on, we’ve got to...”

Hissssssss...

Seth inflated like a balloon. His stomach and chest rounded out, losing human definition in seconds. His ass cheeks burst out of his shorts with a loud bang, Jason was slapped in the face by a strip of rubber. Puffy limbs reduced to conical protrusions on a dangerously full container, as a man in a shiny black latex suit puffed, and puffed, and blew... until.

BANG! 

In an instant, Seth wasn’t there anymore. Just scraps of peach coloured rubber, fluttering down like confetti, and a menacing purple miasma which filled the room. Jason breathed it in, and let out a choking cough. It was thick, sugary sweet, and burning hot. He felt his body tingle.

“Wait, who are you supposed to be?” The villainous bastard who popped his friend like a cheap balloon started to approach, but Jason made a run for it. He only got a short glimpse of him. Dark hair, and glowing purple eyes. He was monstrously tall, and wide as a weather balloon. He had to get away. There was no way he could fight his way out if that human dirigible caught up to him.

Jason absconded through an open hallway. He kicked himself for not turning around and heading back up to the club, but fear made you do stupid things. He turned corners, barged through swing doors, and kept going.

Then he stopped for breath. And looked at his right arm, like it belonged to someone else. Because it had to. It was so thick, and shiny. Beautifully pumped up biceps and triceps, forearm bulk to make a trained powerlifter weep, and even his fingers somehow looked stronger. He was shiny, no pores, and he could see his own face in the reflection of his skin. “Shit, I’m... I’m...”

“... like a balloon.” Jason heard the villain say, the end of a sentence he had yelled as he was sprinting to catch up. Shit, he was fast for someone so big.

Jason kept running. He groaned, and felt his body swell and stretch violently. Muscles just sort of, bwoomping, here and there. His stomach grew until it tore through his tank top, his legs grinded away until his shorts turned to dust. Even his shoes exploded off his growing feet. “What the fuck, what the fuck!?” He was blowing up like a bodybuilder on steroids dipped in toxic radiation, this sort of thing didn’t happen!

“WAIT!” The villain yelled.

Jason turned another corner, and picked up speed...?

Jason kept running as fast as his legs would allow. Whatever transformation had taken place, was taking place, had drastically reduced his weight. He bounded several feet with every step, sometimes gliding for seconds at a time. It was like the footage of an astronaut leaping across the lunar surface, taking increasingly wide arcs with every sequential leap. The tension still grew, pulling his body tight while it paradoxically found the elasticity to stretch and swell with rubbery protests. Jason’s head swam with panic, but for all the adrenaline pumping fear the metamorphosis brought, he was at least glad for his newfound speed.

“Wait!” The suited man called out. Jason’s shoulders had become too prominently bulbous for him to see over them, but he could tell that his pursuer was far behind him. Probably at the corner of the long hallway. Which seemed never ending, stretching into infinity from Jason’s perspective. “You don’t understand, I’m not trying to hurt you!” Jason picked up the pace. He felt a fiery strength welling up inside of him the more he grew. It gave him the confidence he needed to keep plunging forward. He wasn’t trying to hurt him? Yeah, right, Jason thought. Then maybe you shouldn’t have popped my friend and turned me into a freak!

Jason kept sprinting, aided by his moon-bouncing defiance of gravity. He had been swinging his arms in rhythm with his legs, but he was beginning to find that difficult. His limbs creaked, balloon-on-balloon staccato, grinding against his wide belly; comically muscular, bulging thighs, chaffing painlessly but loudly.

I’m running out of space.

The thought re-instilled his original panic. He kept running! He had to!

And then, he stopped running, and he went cold with dread. A great metal door bolted shut and cordoned off with bright yellow tape. It was completely unpassable. With his ragged breath and bare feet no longer pounding the metal tiles, he was able to hear just how loud his body creaked. It was a threatening noise, like a closet door bowing, unable to hold its contents in; or a wooden beam, signalling with its tremulous shaking that it was about to collapse under an enormous weight. Jason started breathing heavily again. It wasn’t out of exhaustion, or panic this time, it was pressure. He felt it. It was building, and if he closed his mouth and stopped exhaling, he thought he would explode.

“You need to listen, you’re unstable!” The villain got closer. Jason struggled to turn around and face the other way. His head touched the ceiling, and his shoulders reached its corners. With a stomach as big, round, and explosive as a big brass bomb as the only exception... everything else about him was cartoonishly muscular. There was no vascular element to him, just sheer size and shiny skin. Literally, a cartoon, a parade float, a simplified muscle-hulk with a belly. His cheeks started to turn pink, and a warmth came over him.

“Okay, you’ve... caught me...” Jason said, between hot, feverish breaths. “Are you going to pop me like you did Seth? You murderer.” 

The villain raised a brow. He looked puzzled. “Murderer...? I’ve barely killed anyone in my life. That one superhero doesn’t count - he comes back to life every Tuesday anyway - who the hell did I murder?”

“Seth!” Jason exclaimed. He surged in size; the explosive tension strengthened. If he really focused on his anger, he knew he could do it, he could explode. Yes, blow up. He could take this monster out with him in a big blast, there was enough super-heated air in his grossly expanded arms to take out a tank. He just had to reach forward, and bear-hug this latex wrapped bastard and squeeze. Squeeze hard.

“Seth? You mean the one with the brown hair...?” The villain took a cautious step backwards. “He’s NOT dead!”

The delirium eased. “What?” Jason was stunned. “I saw you! You were making out with him, brainwashing him with that purple gas or whatever it was coming out of your mouth. You blew into his damned mouth until he got so big, he BURST!”

“Did you see any blood?”

“... no.” Jason paused.

“Any gore? Anything disgusting?”

“N-no, but--”

“He’s a balloon, we’re all balloons. This is an inflation club, a pump-room. People come here to GET popped... and then they end up back to normal. Sure, a little dazed. But no more than you’d be after blowing a load so powerful it turned you into literal confetti.” The villain sounded so confident in what he was saying. It could be an elaborate lie, but what would he gain through lying to Jason at this stage? He could easily just make him burst, like he had done with Seth, or just wait for Jason’s body to over-inflate.

“It’s also where I recruit people. I’m a supervillain, inflation is whole gimmick. My passion, my raison d'être. Your pal Seth’s a hopeless bomb, he comes here to get his fuse lit at least once a week.” The villain gave Jason’s pulsating form a critical look. “He’s part of my henchmen... I’m Biohazard Ben, surely you’ve heard of me?”

Biohazard Ben? Jason knew the name. He had seen the pictures. But he thought it was all an elaborate series of photo manipulations. He enjoyed the content, inflation was... something he and Seth shared - sexually, intimately - but apart from some rubber suited humping and balloon blowing in the bedroom, they had never actually inflated in real life. They couldn’t, it wasn’t possible. At least it shouldn’t have been, though present circumstances were leading Jason to feel differently about his assumptions.

“Is that why he was so out of it when I met him upstairs?” Jason asked. Trying to ignore his body’s desire for detonation.

“He wanted to ease you in gently, I suppose.” Ben laughed. “That’s gone right out the window. You’ll be fine, really. Just give me a few minutes to clear the corridor and lower a blast shield, and you can let yourself go bang.”

“But... but I don’t-... I’m... too scared, to...” Jason panicked, he was so tight he was immobilized. He couldn’t move! And he was hot, oh so hot. Sweat dripped from his body, but maybe it was more accurate to call it condensation. He had no pores anymore, just smooth, shiny rubber skin. Shiny rubber skin which was about to tear at the seams. “Please.” He pleaded. “Maybe... maybe it feels good, maybe I’ll be into the same shit Seth did, but not right now. Ugh...” He grunted, holding himself together with an imaginary squeeze. “But I’m not ready to pop. Can’t you get it out of me another way?”

Ben sighed. “Shame, you would make a beautiful firework.” He approached. His round bearded face was slightly tanned, and so masculine with the way his skin contrasted the deep black and purple of his hair. His eyes, purple again, so deep and purple... were beautiful. Jason would have ordinarily welcomed the advance of a brute like him, especially with the softness of his face and the plumpness of his cheeks as he locked eyes, but not now. He was getting aroused, and he didn’t need -more- pressure. Jason tried to hold it back, but with a loud FWOOMPH, his dick billowed out into a three-foot-long tube. Its head now pressed firmly into the balloon supervillain’s belly, latex and fat creasing around its engorged tip.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Jason cried out. “I didn’t mean to... do that.”

Ben was not phased, he just looked at it. “Is this for me?” He scoffed. “I know I’m a bit of a size queen, but you didn’t have to go through all this bother.” 

Banter. Why did he have to banter? His confidence, it was only making him hotter. Big, bombastic, wide and a good blend of masculine without being arrogant or crass about it. It figured Jason would meet someone so violently his type this way.

“You’re... not annoyed?” Jason blinked. He wasn’t sure of the proper response for having your mega sized yoga ball gut impacted by an inflated stranger’s dick, but he was almost certain casual conversation and dismissive laughter wasn’t it.

“Flattered, really.” Ben’s face lit up with an idea. “I could release the pressure, and ‘pop’ you, without actually turning you into a dazed post-coitus nuke like Seth.”

Jason had a feeling he knew what Ben was thinking.

“If... you want, I really need relief.” Jason huffed, he was steamy inside and out now.

“Just so we’re clear.” Ben pushed a button on his harness, releasing the X shaped straps and freeing his moobs. Decompressing his chest and allowing his enormous chest to stretch the latex pleasingly. “You know what I’m about to do, right?” Jason could see his erect nipples through the material. 

“Give me a blow-job to keep me from blowing up?” Jason laughed, nervous, awkward, but turned on and elated all at once.

“You’re not far off.” Ben opened his mouth; the head of Jason’s inflated penis was the size of the supervillain’s skull. He would need to unhinge his jaw to fit it all in, and he probably had that faculty, but he instead licked around the slit and between motions would stare into Jason’s eyes. Letting him know, unquestionably, that he knew how dirty his thoughts were. How horny he was. The weird, inflated-dick fellatio sent ripples through Jason’s body. He didn’t feel any less explosive, but the apex point - where the pressure concentrated - had moved from his tortured rubber muscles to his crotch. His blimp-dick was a cannon being loaded with sexual gunpowder, but unable to ignite without someone else lighting the fuse.

“Oooooh... fuck,” Jason moaned. His body deflated, only by inches, but he savoured the relief. “That feels good.” The raging fire had been converted into a warm river of pleasure, which coursed through him, converging at the centre of his pumped-up rod.

Ben blew into the slit. His hot breath filling Jason’s dick like the balloon it was, making it widen, and round out. It was bulbous and shiny, but now it felt less like a single large stick of dynamite, and more of a TNT bundle, with the plunger firmly in Ben’s hands. Erotic power arced across the sensitive skin, forcing Jason to bite his lower lip just to keep sane.

“Just a little longer,” Ben promised. “I’ll service you properly, work you over, and let the pressure out...” He blew into his thumb, forcing air to go where he demanded in his own body. The control was impressive. His wide, lustrous breasts became plump and rubbery firm as a pair of small water-beds. Perfectly balanced in size against his car sized belly. He sandwiched Jason’s cock head in the cleavage, letting the over-taxed muscle balloon feel the uncanny smoothness and suppleness of the latex. Ben’s hard nipples softly tracing the sensitive dick now and then.

“Uh... ugh... I feel something... building up... down--” Jason threw his head back as much as he was able. His balls, average sized but never a bragging point, were emitting a deafening gaseous hiss. They filled up, practically lifting him off the ground to fill the space left by the subtle deflation when some of the pressure rushed to his penis. His body was still taxed. Arms herculean, legs the envy of the world’s championship squatters, belly a gainer’s dream; but it wasn’t painfully, or dangerously tight anywhere other than in the circumference of his ballooning balls.

“Let it happen. You’re about to go off, are you ready to explode?” Ben tit-fucked the dangerously taut balloon which used to be Jason’s normal, human sized dick. He picked up the pace, soft mounds guided by strong hands. Slick and wet with Jason’s condensation. Stroking, and pumping Jason’s over-sensitive cock cannon. His balls stretched to the size of huge overstuffed beanbags, quaking with pressure.

“Ye-yeah... I’m gonna blow, oooooh, I’m gonna blow, I’M GONNA BLOW...” Jason chanted his mantra. He could only focus on those three words. I’m. GONNA. BLOOOOOOW. There wasn’t any room in his head for anything else.

“Boom.” Ben whispered and squeezed hard with his pneumatically charged tits. 

Jason’s mind went purple. Purple, that’s all he saw. He experienced the longest, most torturous build-up to an orgasm he had ever felt in his life. Then, in one sweet, lascivious moment, his limbs briefly went into a spasm from the onslaught of pleasure. Ben had thrown himself on to his back to avoid the torrent of purple gas which erupted from Jason’s dick. It was beyond sublime. Every second that thick miasma exited him, it was another second in heaven. His body rapidly shrunk, deflating to his original fat, curvy, bottom heavy proportions. When the pressure had been finally exorcised from him, and he was no longer in danger of exploding, he witnessed his skin regain its texture. He sat on the floor, back to the impassable door, with droplets of regular human cum leaking out of his regular, human sized penis. 

And he wondered. If that had all sprung from an accident, could he make it feel even better if it was intentional? Jason looked up at Ben, who was dusting himself off and smiling with smug satisfaction.

“Well, did you enjoy yourself?” Ben asked, knowing the answer.

“I want to do it again. Sign me up, I want to be a henchman if I get to feel like -that- again.”

Ben laughed. “Then we’ll need to get you cleaned up,” and he smacked his stomach triumphantly. “And get you a new suit.”