From ls6y06cl6a0n's archive: Richard, the Inflatable Mechanic. (Patreon)

        Richard is inflating tires all day long in his garage. You're about to discover his special relationship with his air compressor...

Long weekends were usually slow days at the garage for Richard. He was happy to finally be able to relax after a tiresome week. When he took this job as a mechanic 30 years ago; he was slim and full of energy, having spent his teenage years at the gym. To this day, he still had huge arms that would make any bodybuilders blush. He insisted on carrying and lifting the equipment and parts by himself as if the garage was his own personal gym.

What changed was his eating habit. Between jobs, he would always have a snack in hand. And when a fast-food restaurant opened beside the garage, the weight started to pile on. At first, he was ashamed of the small belly he developed in his thirties. But as it continues to grow bigger, he started to LOVE it. His ball belly was a perfect complement to his beefy arms. He was becoming a huge masculine bear. He embarrassed the look. He even wished that he could get bigger, faster. That is why in his forties, he developed a special relationship with his air compressor...

The serene atmosphere of this Sunday was suddenly shattered by a terrible sound.

Richard went outside to see what cataclysmic event just happened. It became instantly clear: a construction truck transporting large glasses panels had crashed, and dropped its entire cargo on the road. Tiny pieces of glasses were everywhere.

“Phew, at least nobody got hurt”, he thought, before going back inside.

But then, one client showed up. Then two, then three. Then 10.

It turns out that most people rolling on the street by the garage ended up with a flat tire because of the glass-covered road.

He never inflated that many tires in a single day. Each time he started the compressor, the memories of using it to inflate himself came back, and it made him hard. So hard. Every time.

By the end of the day, he couldn’t think about anything else than the orgasmic feeling of being blown up like one of those tires. Big and tight, with enough pressure inside that a single second of flowing air would make you blow.

The sun was setting down, and the road had finally been cleaned up. He was finally alone in the garage, with the same silence as that morning. Still, he wasn’t as relaxed. His eyes were locked on the air compressor as if it was calling his name.

He nervously closed shop and set himself up for the belly inflation he had been dreaming about all day long. He knew how dangerous this kind of inflation was, but he always took it slow, carefully measuring the pressure inside his very own tire.

He also knew just how much bigger he could get, and that’s what was making him so horny. He’s been doing those inflation sessions for over a decade: his body ability to stretch was now insane.

So that was it. He unzipped the fly of his coveralls, took the tube of his compressor, and slid it down the hatch until it hit the right spot. As always, he kept his one-piece coverall on: the thick, jeans-like fabric was making his body expansion much more intense.

He flipped the switch on the compressor. He became immediately hard: it was his body’s pavlovian response to the familiar humming sound.

He felt the air slowly making its way inside him. The first few minutes of air inflations are always disappointing, because you can’t see any change in your body. But then, the empty space in your guts is finally filled, the pressure starts to build up and you can see your belly slowly growing. In his case, his 65 inches belly was already big when deflated, and it was about to grow a lot bigger.

The sound of fabric stretching was the first sign: it was starting. He felt his belly expanding, filling his clothes. He felt full, satiated as if he had a big meal. But he was hungry for more.

For the next few minutes, he let himself inflate like a balloon, appreciating every inch that his belly gained. With his hands on each side of the sphere, he could feel it expand, gurgle and move under his finger. The fabric of his coverall was thick and the buttons very solidly sew in place: the pressure required to make them pop needed to be incredibly intense. And yet, it was about to happen.

“OOOOOooooooofffff”
Growing bigger by the second, he was in pain, but he loved that feeling. He was taping the side of his gut and enjoyed the sound it made as if he was dribbling a ball. His belly was surely 75 inches by now… The sphere covered in blue material was growing so much, it was pushing his pecs in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. He felt like a sausage, constricted in his clothes. He was about to come free, like a butterfly out of his cocoon. A bigger version of himself, how he was always meant to be.
“Almost...out...of those clothes…”

Low sounds of fabric stretching could be heard. It needed to give away right now, or else...

POW!!

The buttons finally popped and his belly deployed out of the clothes like an airbag. It doubled in size instantly.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooffffffff”

The sudden growth almost made him cum. But he restrained himself. He wasn’t done yet.

The round ball, normally soft and hollow, was now rock-hard. Before the inflation, you could have pushed your fist into his belly and it would have sunk into it like dough. Now, you couldn’t even make a dent with your finger.

He was so full of air that his very own skin felt as constricting as his clothes were a moment ago. His skin wasn’t stretching fast enough to accommodate the constant flow of air entering him. It was getting red, itchy, and painful. He was about to pop.

He knew it was the moment to stop, but after a day of anticipation, he was too horny for that. He wanted to push himself even further, grow bigger than ever before.

“More… I can take more….”

His belly was now the size of a jumbo exercise ball and still growing in every direction.

His whole body was doing unnatural sounds to protest this inhuman growth.

He reached the dangerous point of no return, where the pleasure is so great that he didn’t care if he popped. It was just too good.

“Just...another...inch…”

Pleasure transformed into pain. He was morphing into a human balloon.

“AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGG”

The compressor was humming louder and louder to push the air inside him, until…

*Clic* He turned the machine off, seconds before the catastrophe. Resisting the urge to pop was the toughest thing he ever did in his life.

He was so blown up that he could barely move. All he could see was a giant ball of flesh in front of him. He was immense.

Suddenly, he heard a doorbell: a customer was entering the shop.

He panicked. He pulled the tube out and clench his butt as hard as he could. If the slightest puff of air would make his way out, the rest of it would surely explode out of him soon after. That client would tell the story of the farting mechanic for the rest of their life.

“Didn’t I close the shop? The light is out! Who would come at this hour anyway?!”, he thought.

Then, the customer revealed himself to be Oscar, the owner of the gym, a long-time friend, and a customer of Richard.

When Oscar turned the corner and saw the immense balloon that was Richard’s belly, his jaw dropped on the floor.

“OH MY GOD RICHARD! What the fuck happened to you?”

Richard would never, ever, admit that he inflated himself with air. It would sound ridiculous. He would tell all the possible lies instead of revealing his fetish.

“Oh... You know… I gained a few pounds in the last 6 months… and I went to the burger joint and I ended up a bit bloated. Maybe something wasn’t fresh.”

“A BIT BLOATED? You look like a balloon about to pop!” He came closer and thumped the sphere. Richard was sweating profusely, clenching every hole in his body to avoid a smelly deflation in front of his friend.

Oscar started to talk to him about the renovation at the gym, while our big balloon was trying to keep it together, while some deep gurgles could be heard. By the time the conservation ended, Richard’s skin had the time to relax and stretch enough to diminish the risk of a sudden explosion.

“Anyway, I was just passing by to give you back the tools you lent me for my renovation. Oh, and a Coke for you! I know you can’t resist! Maybe it would help your digestion!”

One time, Oscar came by and saw Richard chug an entire 2-liter bottle of Coke in a single breath. He didn’t know that the mechanic was chugging them for the pleasure of being inflated during his workday. That time, he covered his bloat fetish with another lie: he said that he was addicted to Coke and loved it so much that he couldn’t help but to chug the entire bottle every time. Since then, every time Oscar came to the garage, he always gave a bottle to Richard as a gift, and the fat mechanic would always chug the entire thing in from of him. Oscar always loved to watch him do that, he never knew why. This Sunday night was no exception.

Richard took the bottle in his hand and saw the anticipation in the eyes of his friend.

“Will I be able to bloat that belly even more without exploding?”, he thought.

He didn’t want to raise suspicion, so he took the bottle to its lips and started to chug.

Oscar’s bumpy ride on the damaged road made the bottle highly pressurized: the foam was inflated his cheeks.

Each time he swallowed, he felt his entire body swelling a bit bigger.

“Thanks, pals!” he said, trying to avoid showing his pain.

“My pleasure! I knew it would do you good! Now, take care and try to keep that belly in control before you become immobile!”

“Yeah, sure!”, he said. While Oscar was walking away, he was feeling the bubbles multiplicating and inflating himself to the maximum once again. His arms were slowly rising, pushed out by his expanding body. He was lucky that Oscar never turned back, or else he would have seen that Richard inflated, even more, is just a matter of seconds.

As soon as Richard heard the sound of Oscar’s car going away, he stripped away what was remaining of his clothes and chose to keep the air in just a bit longer. He had to jerk off at this instant, while he was inflated to record size. Besides, he couldn’t wait until he was home: there’s no way he could fit into his car in his current state.

He blindly spread some hand lotion on his member and slid it between two lubricated tires. He masturbated furiously, hoping to release the tension without exploding. The squeaky sound of his emergency fleshlight made of tire was soon buried under the sloshing inside his stomach, the gurgling of his repressed fart, and the drum sounds of his hands pounding on his belly.

Each movement made the Coke inside him release even more bubbles. He was visibly inflating, once again, to the point where he didn’t look human anymore.
A giant balloon of skin, dangerously full. Just before the point of rupture, he finally came, relaxed his body, and let everything loose at once.

A thunderous belch forced his jaw open the widest it ever was, making his cheeks and chins flap in the wind.
At the same time, a fart erupted from his butt, so powerful that his prostate was fully stimulated the whole time.

His extreme size, fullness, belch, and fart made him blow the biggest load of his life.

Richard’s whole body was vibrating from his deflation, almost floating as he was shooting air from both ends with the force of a jet engine.

His explosive deflation lasted a full minute.

He rested on the ground for 20 minutes to rest after this moment of pure ecstasy, wishing to relive that moment as soon as possible.