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Pneumatown:

Jenna's First Day
Part 1

  Early morning rose over the Pneumatic Heights apartment building, illuminating the interior of the sunny-side suites through half-open blinds. Dawn-beams cast over Jenna's brown blanket as the streamlined ridge of youth lay slumped in the stupor of sleep. At that time, the bedside alarm's chimes broke the quiet of the room and played into the ears of the girl beneath the Linentex sheets. The young brunette roused from her slumber as rising sluggishly between the supple blanket and opulent mattress conjoined squeaking and chirping to the alarm's wail. Bleary brown eyes looked on the ringing clock from beneath a cascade of straight if messy brown locks, before she'd extended a hand and tapped it into silence. Those eyes relaxed again, tempted sorely by the sleepy heaviness therein to close and return to dream-land.

  Looking on, the time was 6AM. Her new job, which started at 8, was the reason she'd been up this early in the morning. In between now and then, she had time to practice morning hygiene, get up and get there, but not enough time to nap- lest she oversleep. So, Jenna forced herself upwards by a curl of her abdomen as the rubbery blanket ruffled off of her slight waist and her buttocks sank into the supple cushion beneath her. She cast her vision and a hand aside, onto the succulent surface cradling her, as she absently ran a hand over it with a bat to her sleepy brown orbs. Her mattress was made of a super-fine form of rubber and full of air and fibrous mesh to give it yield.

  Sighing, Jenna slowly slid down the buoyant bedside, setting foot on the floor and in search of the clothes she'd worn yesterday. Padding across rubbery carpeting, she found them sprawled on the floor where she left them and then gone about changing into them. She put on her best pair of skinny jeans complimenting her slender legs, her good boots, dad's old brown jacket and mom's old white blouse. It wasn't the most professional nor the fanciest of outfits and obviously Rose would criticize her bland sense of fashion, but hey; Rose wasn't awake. Furthermore, Jenna had been told not to bother bringing anything special to her new job because she'd be changing into uniform anyway. As she finished shrugging on her clothing, Jenna strolled about the room and took a glance out her window. This was called the sunnyside suites because it had a view of the Cove, over which the sun rose like a bright orb into the sky. Across the building, the suites facing the woods inland were of course called the woodside suites. To think, today was her first day of work at her first job in Pneumatown.

  After having let that thought sink in for a moment, Jenna sniffed and swiveled aside, out the door of her bedroom. Stepping softly and quietly down the dark hallway dividing the apartment, she could peer into the Rose's room and find the red-head knocked out upon her own air-mattress, surrounded by inflatable pillows and a few toys even. Jenna skewed her eyes, as ever finding her friend gravely eccentric, but didn't bother checking to see what else was in that room; she was kind of scared to find out. Instead, she passed into the main room of the apartment divided up between the living and dining areas, to chill and find some breakfast. Across the rubber-tiled floor checking into the pantry, Jenna found that Rose hadn't kept it well organized; the boxes and bottles and cartons were a muss and a fuss. So, she took the simplest meal she could and set it out on the table. Once seated in relative silence and comfortably eating, she took a second to tug her phone out of her pocket and hold it over the table, to find out how to get to her place of work.

It was the Pneumatown Mall in the center of town, said to be the central commercial attraction.

Being in the center of town and, small as Pneumatown was, it was well enough within walking distance and the weather around here seemed always just right for a summery walk. Jenna rested her phone on the table, reasoning that perhaps, being about fifteen minutes from here, it made for an easy and cheap commute. In the background, it felt like the rest of the apartment building was waking up. The difference was quite subtle through the dense walls and cool, conditioned atmosphere, but conversations were starting and people were moving about their morning routine. That in mind, it was high time Jenna got on with hers, as upon finishing up her breakfast she'd dismount her chair and step back across the hall, past Rose's room again and to the bathroom they shared. Her boots tamped across soft, smooth and rubbery tiling as she sallied to the mirror, and there had checked herself.

Jenna's hair was a slight muss from sleeping, but in its striking straightness surprisingly easy to fix as she'd simply comb and brush it back down to its even strides down her scalp. Furthermore washing her face, she was pleased to find no pimples on her plain if pleasant young face. Her outfit didn't bear any notable blotches or dirty marks, so overall she seemed mildly presentable. Thus, Jenna didn't tarry long in the bathroom before having stepped out of it and back through her apartment, not wanting to be there when Rose woke up. As such, while having ample time to get to the Mall, she spared not a minute more there; granted, she was nervous and in no mood for the red-head's talk, let alone having her take her to the Mall herself and wind up being embarrassed by her flirtatious mannerisms. All of this was on Jenna's mind while she'd walked out onto the central common area dividing up the sides of the building and- promptly stopped when she saw a male's form stepping out of a room across the way, on the Woodside. It was Shane, one of the apartment's tenants and neighbor to the girls.
The time was early and few people were out and about just now, so it was pretty easy for the two youths to spot one another. Both wondered what the other was doing at such a time of day, Jenna dressed as she was every day and Shane seeming to be in green and black sports attire. They paused to regard one another, Shane's jade eyes against Jenna's earthy brown ones, and then gave indifferent nods back and forth. The interaction would have ended there, as Jenna wasn't outright in the mood for a conversation, but Shane must have been- despite his prior lack of interest at first glance.

The young uttered a greeting, "Good morning," his voice a low baritone of little apparent joy or strife as with the observation, "You're up early."
It was fairly obvious the lad himself was going out for a run but as for Jenna, "I'm headed to work; new job," she kept her explanation short and sweet; having little time to banter. Stepping towards him, she altered her steps to begin walking around the lad even as his curious eyes followed her.
Shane regarded the matter casually, "Got a job already?" and yet raised his brows as if impressed by the notion. "Good on you. Where at?"
As it'd be impolite to just keep walking, Jenna paused just shy of the stairwell mouth to converse with Shane; but not for long. "It's at Pneumatown Mall, in the center of town."
"Pneumatown Mall?" Shane's brows couldn't have gotten higher, as the tone of recognition shone in his stare which slowly began to narrow. "You don't strike me as the retail type- if you'll pardon me saying."
"I get it," as Shane didn't mean to sound rude but, "You're right, I'm not really. I'm just trying it out because I'm not sure where else I'd get a job around here."
The youthful male hummed and rolled his shoulders, agreeing dubiously, "Perhaps not; there isn't a whole lot to do around here besides the pool and beach attendant business, which is booming."
But, as with fashion and retail, Jenna couldn't fathom herself wearing any skimpy swim suit and standing around a pool or beach all day, "That sounds boring." As after all she had fair skin, prone to sunburn, and didn't like being outside a whole lot. Although regarding Shane, despite the fact his skin was toned, "You don't strike me as a Lifeguard, though." Athletic he was, yes, vigilant too, but far too stern and intense to work around people.
"You're right, I'm a guard, but not of the beach. I'm a bit more, out there," as signified by a gesture with his arm, "Coast Guard, Forest Ranger- that sort of thing."
"Oh..." Jenna sighed a thoughtful hum, nodding her head seeing as, "That makes sense. You do strike me as the sheepdog type."
Shane's stoic demeanor broke to a small half-grin, "Heh," and a chuckle of the same, "I'll take that as a compliment; thanks." But, back on topic, dropped with his expression to resume stoicism, "You wanted to get to Pneumatown Mall, right? Did you know the way?"
"Well, do you?" Jenna countered, feeling more comfortable bantering the boy than when they first met, "Because I got it on the maps, but I'm still a bit shaky." Something about his calm and earthen neutrality made him easy to be around; grounded and stable, rooted to reality unlike many people around.
Shane's stare calmed to a flat smile as he granted, "Sure," and beckoned her while moving ahead and down the stairs; "I'll take you there before going on my run."

The pair of brown-haired youths stepped down through the lobby and out into the cool morning air of Pneumatic Heights. A summery breeze wafted through the trees adorning the walkway they wandered along, cooling them in the clear Pneumatown morning air. As the neighborhood really had been a giant cul-de-sac mounted upon a terrace, it was an easy and rural walk down and towards the town proper. Just as well, a surprisingly quick walk to the Mall, what with how briskly Shane moved in the morning air. He'd taken Jenna into town and across the streets of the commercial district, until a yawning parking lot opened up into a comparatively large composite structure. "There it is," he announced, extending an arm towards it; "Just go through those doors and to the department you're working in. The Manager's office is in the back; you'll meet your boss there."
How did Shane know this much about how Pneumatown Mall worked? Maybe it was simply that he'd been here long enough to know. Either way, "Thank you," with a prompt word of thanks and a nod of the same, Jenna made her way across the parking lot and towards the store-front. Through the display windows of a store-segment called 'Airy Attire', colorful clothing and costumes of all shapes, sizes and shades were set on display. Jenna passed through the doorway and was greeted by air rich with the pungent scent of rubber, overwhelming to the untrained nose. Jenna reflexively held a hand over hers and glanced warily up and down the colorfully-adorned aisles full of clothing, all types and sizes. This department was larger on the inside than it looked on the outside; from the high ceiling decorated with wafting parade floats to the smooth floor of polished rubbercrete. In between, costumes and clothing of all kinds were both hung up and on display over top of the aisles. Curiously, Jenna wandered deeper and unto the nearest display, a set of women's clothing that fit her everyday style. She'd pinch and rub the sleeve between her fingers, her face twisted in mild confusion. The fabric was glossy and stretched to an unreal length, pulling away and dragging the garment with it before she'd let go and watch it snap back into place like a rubber band.
The sight of it was befuddling, to say the least; never had Jenna seen a store with such a decadently rubbery display meant to make people look like they were wearing balloons. Speaking of, the very next thing Jenna noticed in her musings were the fact that some of the displays were in fact, moving. In fact one of them walked right by her, a full body suit shaped and colored not unlike a beachball save for the fact swollen tubes substituted arms and legs, tipped by gloved hands and booted feet. Jenna's jaw dropped, especially as this 'mannequin' turned to her with a smile genuine despite the painted red across its lips and two big, batting blue eyes. It turned out, this swollen thing she was looking at hadn't been a mannequin but an attendant to the store, dressed from their neck to their hands and feet in an inflated beachball costume!

Jenna thought maybe she was looking at a boy, given his faintly-boyish facial features, and the "Hi!" he chirped at a merry tone had vaguely confirmed it. She was still awe-struck, by the revelation he hadn't been a mannequin and the fact he was wearing that stupid inflated suit in the first place, as well as the faintly-looming premonition that if she was working here, she may wind up wearing one too.
"Uh..." A croak left her throat, at a loss of words to say to the beaming balloon boy, "Hi..." and so had reduced the conversation to a shocked staring.
The boy in the beachball didn't seem to mind, perhaps being used to that look given him, since he'd bubble up a giggle and grin. "Welcome to Airy Attire," he said nonetheless like nothing at all was wrong with him or anything at all, "Is there anything you're looking for specifically?"
"Ah..." Jenna was still croaking, her throat dry as a bone, before she'd swallowed that bloated lump in her throat and talked. "Yeah, I... actually got a job working here." Her eyes were still running up and down the colorful stripes and the contours they swelled out of his suit, the body beneath being completely hidden.
The boy's big blue eyes went softly wide, "You did?" as if showing the same surprise Shane expressed, to a more vivid degree; as if it were some shock that a girl like Jenna would work in a place like this. Now Jenna could tell why. But lo, the boy's face soon turned back to a bubbly mirth, "That's awesome!" as he'd resumed his usual cheerful demeanor, "In that case, follow me! I'll take you to Manager Jezebel."
Never had Jenna felt more misgiving than now. Everything from the oddly-cheerful boy to the Mall and its contents, and the name of its manager sounding like someone out of a religious script, gave the poor brunette a welling case of dread. She looked as perturbed as she felt, meekly following the bouncing beachball boy through the store's aisles and unto a wall, cleverly hiding a door behind the displays. It was for employees only, as a natural passage through a mall for such associates, given the sign upon it. As they passed into a hallway, much quieter and emptier than the store, Jenna could now clearly hear all of the noise her bouncy escort was making. From the rasp and giggle of his swollen legs brushing together, to the ruffle of his tube-like arms waving and wobbling over a round body, to the cheerful humming he gave off- he truly was the most happy of associates. Jenna couldn't help but gravely ponder the meaning of his mirth, be it forced or genuine, seeing as he hadn't dropped it at all since leaving the public eye. What kept her from straight-out turning around and leaving was, actually, the vain hope that maybe she could be an exception to the uniform and not have to wear a suit.

Finally the tour came to an end at a door alongside marked as the Manager's office, where the beachball-clad boy paused and turned around, swiveling and glossing over himself as he did. "Here you are! The Manager has been expecting you, is why I knew." So, laying one of his white-gloved hands upon the knob, he opened up the door for her and beckoned with the other puffy arm across his spacious abdomen; "Good luck!"

Passing through and into the Manager's Office was like passing into a different world entirely, from the shining tiles and the glistening woodwork to a carpeted and engraved den. Entirely uncharacteristic to the rest of the store, the room was darkened and bearing a low Gothic undertone to its engraved furniture. Bookshelves were on the walls alongside an official desk; filled with questionable paraphernalia and the occasional strange relic of sorts. Whoever owned this office was a woman of sophisticated and complicated nature, it seemed, as compared to Jenna's juvenile, simple nature.
Speaking of the devil, she sat waiting for Jenna behind that central desk. This was a prim and tall woman, seated high and dressed the part in her black business blazer over a deep-lavender blouse and tie, rested upon succulent hips bound in a tight skirt and hose hidden behind her desk. Perfectly-manicured, scarlet-dyed nails tapped tentatively upon the hard surface of the desk, not rubbery like everything else. Atop this expression of dark managerial majesty was a fair yet cunning face, framed by dark-purple hair tied into a neat bun behind her head as bangs framed her darker, almost serpentine, red eyes.
The woman had greeted Jenna with a sultry smile and a voice of the same that bade her, "Good morning. Take a seat, would you kindly?" Almost out of nowhere, Jenna was suddenly aware of the chair waiting for her on the near side of the desk. She tightened her jaw and stepped forward, her boots barely making a sound on the supple carpet. Then when she'd been seated, the conversation began in earnest with small talk, "How are you this morning?"
To answer, Jenna was dubious; she shrugged and pulled back a lock of plain brown hair behind her shoulders. "It could be better," she admitted, thinking of everything she'd seen, if honestly adding that "I'm a little overwhelmed about it all. Are the... uniforms, really necessary?"
The lady clicked her tongue and took a breath, before slowly churning, "Yes, they are necessary. For the sake of uniformity, you understand. Here at Pneumatown Mall, we pride ourselves on the quality of our work and it's only right that we advertise it as well as sell and maintain it. You will be selling it, and so you will be at the forefront of representing us." So was her explanation, before getting deeper into the matter when she introduced herself with a long-nailed hand extended. "I am Manager Jezebel," she said, a disarmingly dangerous but cheerful glint to her eyes; "I manage this Mall; it's nice to see a fresh face."
Reluctant but dubiously willing at the same time, Jenna took the dark woman's hand and shook it before both had returned to their places upon lap and desk alike. "I think I will have to," she said in spite of her prior doubt; "Not like I have much of a choice, given the trends about this town."
That resignation had brought an eerily-contented smile to Jezebel's face before she'd nodded it and went on. "It is a good choice, sweetie; trust me, we take good care of our associates. It might be embarrassing at first, but you'll get used to it; even come to love it, given enough time." That said, bringing to bear the bouncy blue-eyed boy, Jezebel pushed some papers forward along with a sturdy cardboard box; evidently holding something made of rubber. "This is your uniform and the final papers you'll need to sign. Then, you can get right to work considering you've taken all the necessary training already," she explained, "as I know you are good to begin immediately."
Jenna had the foresight to first examine the box and its contents, before she touched the pen offered to her or even looked at the contract. She'd opened it up warily, should the Manager suddenly take it back, and pulled the rubbery filling out. Like pulling up a long strain of silkweight cloth, it unfurled over her and along the desk with a drag of squeaks and chirps. It was supple and pliant as the clothing she'd pinched before, kneading under her fingers with all the softness of silk and all the gloss of latex. In her hands she made out a neckline, then from beside it a pair of arms flopped downward, upon either side of a torso and legs. It was apparent by now, given the colors striped down this suit- red, blue and yellow on white- that it was "A beachball? Really?"
The skeptical look she gave Jezebel was met immediately with a smug smirk. It simply radiated off of her at that moment, as everything the suit implied had come to light. "Being new on the job and given your unfamiliarity with Pneuma County," she explained casually, treating the simplistic look of the suit like a small matter, "it is only fitting that you wear the standard Mall uniform boasting our colors and the symbol of the town. Otherwise, yes," she granted with a bob of her hand and head, "a Beachball suit."
Jenna gave the suit a second glance, her stomach suddenly turning over in her gut and butterflies kicking at her small chest. A look of slight disgust was starting to fill her face, imagining should she have to walk around inside it when it was inflated. "I don't, think I can," she rasped, her voice cracking with uncertainty, "isn't there anything else I can wear?"
The look of pleading she'd given Jezebel had fallen short, when the woman shook her head while maintaining that smug, complacent smile of hers. "Yes, but no, sweetie," she softly said, "I consider it a rite of passage that every new associate- regardless of prior experience- wear the beachball suit. It shows me just how committed you are to the company. If you can't wear the sillier suits," was her basic explanation, "how can I count on you to wear the more flamboyant suits?"
Perhaps, "You have a point," Jenna grudgingly admitted if only casting a just-as-grudging stare back to the suit she'd been assigned to. Even so, she sagged her shoulders and let a sigh out through them, slowly lowering the suit and picking up the pen; "Alright, I suppose I'll do it." That said, despite her heavy heart and heavier hand, Jenna signed her name on the dotted line as the final agreement that she'd work for Pneumatown Mall.
"Good!" Jezebel concluded the deal with a single, merry clap to her hands; returning to her fake, sweet disposition. "Take all the time you need to put the suit on and meet all of your fellow associates; they should get you pumped up to standards. Run along now," she dismissed her, quite demeaning in how she waved her hand, "Off with you; you have a long day ahead!"
Piling the mass of silken rubber back into the box, Jenna puffed a sigh through her lips and picked the whole thing up. So, "Yes, ma'am," she'd taken the dumb thing out of the office and back into the back-hallways. It was time, then, to suit up and get ready.
Minutes later, Jenna sat within the bathroom upon a stool that was, of course, padded with inflated rubber. She spent a long moment staring at the mass of neatly-folded synthetic fabric in her lap, laying her fingers upon it with a disconcerted scowl to her face. Its texture reminded her of her blanket, if not softer than linentex, and the memory of the beachball clowns wandering through the store still flashed through her head while she slowly unfolded the suit and let it sprawl across her lap. The boy, most prominently, came to mind as being especially cheerful; what could have been so great about waddling around in an inflated suit, barely able to move?
Jenna's chest and throat felt tight; she strained slow breaths, in and out, to loosen herself up and calm her anxious nerves. "Oh well," she sighed, finding the opening seam along the back of the suit, "Here goes nothing..." The zipper was something like what she'd seen out of a zip-lock bag, evenly pulling apart at the seam with a slow, chortling wheeze of parting latex. Next she began to strip her clothes; shrugging off her jacket, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding off her jeans. Such garments were left in a neat pile beside her, leaving her in her modest brown bra and panties. Where nothing was hidden, the sure form of her figure was clear; plain and slender as her way of dress and her hair's color and style. Her legs being perhaps her most defining feature, her hips were nonetheless slight and her breasts were less than remarkable. Holding up the suit by the shoulders, to eye-level, she reasoned that it looked pretty small for her; her lithe figure would come in handy here unlike the girls with the bulgy assets.
But speaking of such, it turned out that a set of lingerie flopped out from the midst of the unfolding bodysuit. Jenna blinked, staring at it; unironically this lingerie was, just as well, patterned to bear the stripes of the beachball; a sight that made Jenna half-heartedly smirk while holding them up. The beachball-striped tube-top and boxers would do nothing to make her breasts or butt look like beachballs, seeing as they were no rounder now than then. Lingerie aside, Jenna whipped her hair back behind her head, to get it out of the way as usual, and proceeded with donning the suit. Her long, smooth legs and delicate feet protruded into the depths of the suit first; wiggling around the hollow tubes and trying to find the foot cavities deep down. Soon the legs' sleeves were sliding over her thighs and kneading her feet, before the latter found a place to fill into the built-in rubber boots edged in frills. At the same moment as her toes met the tip and the boots' soft insides closed around her feet, the leggings had filled all around her legs; sucking and filling the gaps of air with itself like a vacuum. Air was felt audibly pushing past her hips and out of the suit, while she watched it practically meld to fit her figure.
Twas a weird sensation that had Jenna putting a pause to her moment, staring now that her legs were covered entirely in silken and glossy fabric. The gleam it gave to the smooth and fashioned surface, made her own body look like everything in this town; glossy and springy. The colorful stripes running down on the inside and outside of her thighs, made her confess a tiny smirk and begrudging "Heh." She was going to look ridiculous in this, for better or worse. It didn't stop the girl from finishing what she started, what with the torso of the suit still sprawled on her lap and a contract on her mind. She slid her arms into it next, seeking and filling into the sleeves out of the shoulders. Just as the suit flexed and kneaded her thighs in her faint shifts, like someone was hugging all over her legs, the same had happened to her arms. Like an airy caress the silken material had crept up her upper limbs and then sucked, the moment her fingers filled into their respective sleeves. Puffs of escaping air ruffled Jenna's brown hair while she shrugged the shoulders of the suit onto her own. Small as they were, her chest had settled evenly into their cavities in the suit and yet it remained loose, as with the belly over hers.
This only was because Jenna hadn't yet sealed the suit over herself; it was slack in the back from the agape zipper. Fortunately, whoever had designed the suit had the foresight of adding a length of string tipped by a tassel, to the zipper's handle. This was begrudgingly grabbed from Jenna's side, passed up and behind her from underhand to overhand, before she'd given it a good tug. The zipper, smooth as can be, glided evenly up her back without abrasion from the closing latex. Rather it felt like someone's intimate hug, rubbing tenderly up her spine while the seal climbed. The suit was tightening around her so that air rushed up her waist, pushing up around her chest from her belly and out through the collar. Sinking into the subtlest crease of her feminine abdominals, and then once it passed her shoulders, the chest of the suit evenly cupped over her breasts.
Once the last puff of loose air had escaped the neckline of the suit where the zipper had peaked, the seal was complete. So what followed Jenna's mind had been amazement, at what a perfect fit the suit was. It seemed small at first, but stretched just enough to be completely airtight and skintight around her. At the same time, as she idly rocked her knees from side to side, the tender material had carefully rubbed and flexed over her thighs; no wrinkles, no abrasions, no chafing at all. Everything from the suit's design to its materials was, in a practical sense, perfect. It had to be tailored exclusively to her body, for sure. Slowly, tentatively and with concern that the suit might pull a last-minute chafe on her sensitive skin, Jenna stood up. With it, and the beachball suit flexing around her body, a slow chirp resonated wherever it rubbed into itself or stretched and contracted over her skin. From there she could stroll over to the mirror of the bathroom and step back a ways, to get a good look at herself. It was a sight that she couldn't help but faintly chuckle at, even murmuring that "Yeah, I look like a human beachball." That had to be a good summary to it, where the comfort of the suit overruled the fact that "I also look ridiculous," and so her expression soured back to its prior state.
The blue stripe ran down her front, between her breasts, across her belly and between her legs. At its sides, white stripes glistened clean-white like the pristine bathroom, and then over her arms and under her armpits were the red and yellow stripes. But with all of these stripes and colors twisted into a human shape, Jenna's first occurrence of thought was that she looked weird; that she ought to look, well, rounder. Like, that boy she'd met. Beachballs were round, right? Yet imagining such a suit as being round, decorated by her comparatively tiny head up top with the outline of her little hands and feet sticking out the sides, her face flushed and lips drawn.
At this point exaggerating a shrug, cocking her hands up, she'd find them wrapped in frilly cuffs. Along with the silly white boots she was wearing, well, "No point in turning back now; I already look like a clown and signed the contract." So the girl swiveled reluctantly towards the door, and her heart and body stopped for a second. She gritted her teeth and her face heated up, even with the suit tenderly hugging her all over her body at once. This was the last moment she'd have before her life descended into balloony nonsense. She closed her eyes and drew in a tight breath, feeling the static crinkle of extending latex over her ribs, then sighed and pushed forward; trudging through the door by the alternating, rubbery clomp of her boots and chirp of rubber over her legs. Every step into the quiet back-rooms had nothing to hide, as the skintight suit rubbed and pushed along her limbs and into her hips, squeaking and chirping all the way.

Now what?

It was a good question that popped into Jenna's mind, as immediately thereafter she'd spotted a rubbery air-tank mounted upon the wall. The sign marking it for 'Employees Only' as with the doors leading here, made it clear enough as Jenna traced her stare from it, to her flat chest and the stripes running down her sides. Her mind fell back to how she'd seen the balloon boy, all pumped up with air and as giddy as could be; a memory that made her scrunch her face, finding herself in a similar plight and wondering "What's so great about it?" After all, she thought, the concept that he'd been altered somehow to fit into that behavior, was pure nonsense like that out of a science fiction or horror movie. Furthermore she knew it'd be mandatory, if not now then later, that she get this stupid suit inflated. At this point Jenna thought she couldn't possibly look more or less ridiculous than now, so "Might as well get it over with..."
The young lady stepped up to the tank, and questioningly grasped the tip of the hose that'd been coiled up at its side. Turning and rolling it around in her hand, then noting the valve on her navel, she reckoned where it belonged. She pursed and tightened her lips, lowering and connecting the hose-tip to its cozy spot in her suit, and felt the sealing suckle upon her belly between the linings. As her eyes turned to the controls for the pump, Jenna's heart began hammering in her chest and she had no idea why sweat was starting to form on her head and how her breathing felt tight in her tube-topped chest. Something about this was a thrill; neither pleasure nor terror, and she couldn't put her finger on it. There wasn't any going back, no stopping her trembling hand from turning on the controls, that activated the siphon of air from the tank into her suit.
Pressure was felt immediately; a cool, smooth lick of air fluttered against her belly through the suit's inner layer, filling the cavity between it and the colorful outside. Jenna drew in a breath, halted a baited gasp, and lowered her head and eyes to her injected belly. At first, airy veins bulged and crackled throughout her waistline as the suit- having never been filled before- parted its layers with a ruffling, churning series of pops and chirps. The opening bulges coalesced quickly and smoothed outward to a singular dome, giving off a profound fwump before more veins of air began spreading up into her flat chest and down over her legs.
Like popcorn in the microwave, the noise of the filling suit had gone from a brisk crackle to a bassy, churning croaks and groans. Air found its way rapidly throughout the beachball while Jenna looked on, feeling the steady caress of a pillow-like air-cushion spread over her body. If the suit felt like a full-body hug before, this was something else entirely; like having latex pillows pressed against her from every angle, kissing her neck and fondling her extremities and torso. Pressure had finally equalized throughout the suit and its finer points, and with one soft *foomp* noise it had given her whole figure a gentle jolt.
Normally Jenna's figure was flat as a board and unremarkable, but air working its way into her every single feminine curve had blossomed them out wonderfully. This was fast becoming the body that Jenna never had and always secretly wanted. Upon her flat chest, two rotund domes were slowly swelling over her breasts; the inner lining caking and puffing around them as it created a round illusion. Her hands lowered to her hips, normally flat and plain, and found them being padded over with a dense cushion of air and something that crackled and flexed between. Her flat bum became quite round and peachy, swelling around her hips and thighs as a cushion unlike being suspended in a vat of clouds. Her fingers sank into the rubbery bubble-butt, and created an intricate chirping groan which built up even as the air continued to fill and bulge between them.
With this soft, pillowy embrace all around her, Jenna's gaping face was very red and her head was buzzing, broken up into a crackling not unlike that which had announced the first leg of inflation. She couldn't think straight or focus on anything but watching and feeling her suit inflate around her. Under her eyes and widening belly, like a very pregnant dome, her thighs thickened and bulged together with their stripes, becoming something that even the most endowed idol or pregnant woman would covet. Even her slender arms were padded over with a growing layer of air, taking on a puffy look like a pair of airy tubes. Yet it was this same puffiness, soon filling over her legs- and around her waist- that set Jenna blinking slowly back into lucidity.
As her hands traveled up from the burgeoning hips propping up her figure, she felt love handles swelling over the sides of her waist and then- rolling forward- ran over a large and curving swell too wide and smooth for even a heavily-pregnant waistline. Jenna blinked, drawing in a faint gasp into the bosoms that had started pushing up into her chin by the expansion of this extra, less-wanted asset. Her belly was dominating her whole waistline from her breasts to her groin and from side to side. She couldn't even pass for pregnant now, that her entire torso was making up a vaguely-human balloon so similar to the boy, and so she wrapped swelling arms around her belly- feeling it expanding over them even then and barely able to touch hands together. As she was barely even able to see her inflated limbs or even her legs over her vast waistline, breasts merging together into an airy uni-boob, Jenna started to raise in alarm.
Maybe, she was getting a little too big- but still held a human enough form without rounding over into a sphere. Something stayed her hand, however, from turning off the air and it was the premonition that her superiors would just want her bigger than this. She hesitated with her hand on the handle, arm bloating in front of her and against her chest. She wondered, in a fluster, just how big was big enough, even while scantly able to watch- but somehow feel- her widening hips melding into her expansive waistline by the love-handles. It was barely even a belly anymore, rather an inflated torso where the hips and butt had smoothed to join it both front and back. Farther down, her thickening thighs had joined with her calves to the tops of her boots, becoming like swollen tubes found only in bouncy houses. Jenna plunged her free hand of rubber into what was left of her hips and they sank so deeply into the inflated expanse that they created bloating divots. She couldn't even feel her own body through all of this balloon, same as how she couldn't recognize the boy's body under his balloon suit- and so felt certain that this was enough.
Urgently now, Jenna glanced back to the tank continuously pumping air into her. Then she gave a squeak, muffled by her breasts swelling voluminously over against her chin as propped by her bicep; having by then joined into a singular bosom over her vast waist. She reached for the controls, watching with widening eyes to find a poofy shoulder connected to an inflated arm that was not even human as much as a swollen tube- with her rubber-gloved hand groping emptily at the end. Reaching over had her needing to lean in her suit, that the inflated rubber surrounding her butt had bounced and weaved her, making her watch her arm uselessly bobble and bounce with the rest of her. Fortunate enough that no second layer was in her gloves, she blindly managed to grasp the controls after a few failed attempts. The suit was just beginning to bunch around her neck and squeal of a certain tightness, before Jenna managed to operate the controls and- blissfully- shut the tank off.
Ceremoniously and without further ado, the ruffling of air that billowed into Jenna's suit had paused. It was replaced with a sensuously static sensation; air trapped inside her suit, feathering faintly against her between two layers from every square inch of her delicate body. The tingling caress of padded latex girded her whole form as if up to her neck in a cloud, easing the girl into a state of relaxation. She let her limbs relax upon her swollen sides; rolling and bowling softly upon the surface of what was once her hips. All she felt, as she consciously probed and felt over the suit's smooth contours, was the vibrations resonating through it and making it bulge and knead. She was sealed inside of a big, fat balloon suit with nothing to feel with but her face, hands and feet.
Jenna's moment of respite was not long, however, before a subtle vibration around her gut had resonated of something being tugged out. She opened her eyes from their moment of relief and, lo and behold, there stood Jezebel with the hose in one hand and- the string and zipper that opened her suit in the other. A wide smirk was on her face, her eyes were alight with malice, and even through her painted lips- a fanged grin was just beginning to break. "Sleeping on the job already, Jenna?" Had she really been that out of it, that she hadn't noticed the manager slither around her like the snake she was?
Jenna attempted to shift upright, struggling with near a foot of air cushioning her every movement. Her butt jammed back and belly flexed forward against naught but an expanse of air, making her lurch backward unsteadily and her swollen arms to buffet her sides. Yet, she managed to tuck her butt in again and secure her rolling stomach- though it swelled all over her arms- and shifted her hefty chest forward with arms crossed over. "Ah- no, ma'am- I just- finished inflating," she uneasily stammered, her face flushing brightly. She was, after all, in an embarrassing beachball and with a very slender, slick and sultry lady smirking at her.
Absently, Jezebel twirled the hose around and around with a flick of her wrist, musing that "It sure seemed like you were enjoying it... Why stop there?" Nonetheless, the comment was all she needed to push the idea of a vast beachball into Jenna's head before revoking it like the tug of a tether she held on the girl. "You're good, sweetie; take your time and get out there whenever you're ready. You've got all day.~"
That much being said, with the uneasy acknowledgment of "Yes, ma'am," Jenna could but stand there and helplessly watch while Jezebel carried the string used to undo her suit- away and into the manager's office.
Something told Jenna, in that moment of impending doom, that she was going to be stuck like this- stuck in this inflated suit- for the whole day. "Hoo~ boy..." the girl sighed, taking a moment then to stare down at the vast expanse of uni-bosom and vast belly that were not her own; barely even able to see her legs or boots.

This was going to be a long day, and it hadn't even begun yet...