The Balloon Man

I can’t believe what’s happened to me over the last week. Yeah, it’s only been a week since I’ve joined the troupe. Last week at the age of eighteen, the age of adulthood, newly graduated from high school, I ran away. I ran away from my parents, family, life.

My dad was always rough on me, a bit too rough. He stands bout 6’ tall, pretty stocky, but there is some muscle underneath it. Mom passed away years ago, dad blamed me, although it was probably his drunken ass that killed through habitual beatings. Mom was such a tiny thing. I don’t know how she lived as long as she did.

Anyrate, there I was. New man of the world. Dad wasn’t thrilled with me. I got some of his stockiness and strength but mostly mom’s height; I’m only 5’2” or rather I was. Really, I was. And, I couldn’t make it on the sports teams he considered manly. I took gymnastics as a child, but given his beatings, I couldn’t practice as much as I’d like, never quite made the top cut at any of the meets. So, there I was. No money for college. I’d work to save up, but that meant living with Dad, who declared me a bum and said I’d have to join the Army. That wasn’t happening.

So with Dad making preps to forcibly enroll me in the Army, I decided to skip town. It was funny, cause my decision timed perfectly with the arrival of “Cirque du Pouvoir.” I figured maybe I could join them, become part of the trapeeze act, or learn to flip and fly on rope or silk scarf. Here I was an adult and I was running away to join the circus.

The day the circus was setting up, they were doing it old school, all old fashioned in big huge gigantic tents, I came down and started talking to folks to see who was hiring and might be interested in me. The trapeeze artisits liked me, said they loved folks who has tumbling and balance experience, but they needed someone a little taller for good reach while flipping in the air. They suggsted the tumblers.

The tumblers were thrilled to see me two, but unfortunately they had four trainees already, no room for more. They suggested maybe the clowns. The clowns had a full quorum and then some as well; no luck there. They thought maybe the human canonball, but I’d need to know lots of different types of stunt work, saftey regulations, and workings of a canon.

I was determined to get out of town. With my head hung low, I began to saunter over towards the concessions people. Maybe I could get a job with them until something else opened up. Suddenly, I heard my name called out.

“Yo, Jansen.” It was the head of the trapeeze artists. He was standing there with the head of the clowns, the tumblers, an the human canonball. All of them were looking at me intently, but with a slight smile on their face. “We’re zorry we can not take you, but we know zere iz an op-en-ning here at zee zircus, we can feel it. Go zat way, and go see Sébastien. He will help you out.”

I wasn’t sure what to think. The way they pointed to was towards two tents. One, was square, red and golden stripped, matching in color and connecting to the main tent. The other was circular black and purple stripped. There was a sign hanging down in front of it that said “Sébastien” the other part being worked on by a maintanence worker at a bench some distance off. I turned and smiled at the gentlemen, waving good-bye and headed towards the black and purple tent.

I stood at it’s doorway, if you can call it that, and patted the canvas to make it rustle since I couldn’t really knock. “Hello? My name is Jansen. I was told to come see…..” and I saw his sign again with the title “sir” in front of it. “Sir Sébastien…” I stood there for a while and heard nothing. Just as I was about to turn to go, the doorway parted open, so figuring this to be a good sign, I walked inside.

I’m sure when finished, Sébastien’s sign informs one what he does here at the circus. Seeing the inside of his tent, there is no doubt what he does. He is the soothsayer, he is the magician, he is the mystic. There was a table with a crystal ball, tarot cards, playing cards, runes, I-ching, dice, and several other things I couldn’t identify. There was a trunk with potions and bottles, cages filled with rabbits and doves, top hats and capes, rings, balls, knives… you name it, it was there.

Suddenly there was a man sitting at the table. “You’re sent to seek advice?”

I lerched back several feet, astonished that he was suddenly there.

“You jump back in surprise, but yet you did not run. There is courage there… You….you wish to join us, but this isn’t the road you originally were destined to take. You have something…someone you must run away from. You have the courage to stand up to this man, but you lack the strength and skill to stand up to him. That is what you really want the strength to take care of this man…..”

I nodded a feeble “yes”, but moved forward and sat down at the table opposite of him.

“I warn you, a change in lifestyle is never as easy as it seems, nor does one always get exactly what one expects. Is your currently life so bad you would take this risk? To achieve something you want, but with twists?”

I nodded my head once again.

“Very well, let us see where you shall be placed. …” He waved one hand and suddenly all the items on his table sprang to life, each presenting itself to me. I drew one of each item. The crystal ball showing pictures of my past when I was being beaten, usually for nothing, by my father.

“The ball says you need strength. The items you’ve chosen each are the symbols of strength in their system of divination. Look to the walls boy…and show me where your heart lies….”

Suddenly on the table there was a lamp with a shade on it full of various shaped holes. It turned round and round casting this intricate, lacy shadows on the walls of the tent. Then at once, all the retangular shapes were in a line around the shade and the light they cast, instead appeared to throw up various antique circus posters. I not only saw them fly out and onto the wall, I heard the rustling of the paper as they flew by. Each of them a poster of a different act, the posters beginning to travel round the tent walls, while the acts in the posters were moving, performing what they did: acrobats, trapeeze artists, clowns, lion tamers, tightrope walkers….

Then there he was. This rugged, handsome, adonis of man. Powerfully built, wearing sandels and tiger loin cloth. So pumped, so shredded, so defined, so vascular. He was lifting huge amounts of weights, hoisting men in the air. My mouth watered after him. My cock became rigid for him.

“The strongman it is.”

“Huh? What?” I said snapping to attention.

“You will make a great strongman, and we are in need of this side act.”

“Well, I could probably work out, but on some, some, muscle, but I’m not a big guy by any means…I’m too short for that post I’m certain….”

?The Circus has spoken, and it is what you want. But come, you are too nervous, we shall relax you.”

He opened up his tent and motioned for me to step outside. Then he opened up the side tent that was part of the main one, and stepped into its space. I soon followed, and saw that it was a prop room. Props of acts going out into the main ring were kept here. He zipped the outside tent entrance shut, then backed me against the table. He was as tall, maybe a little taller than my father was. Swarthy complextion, black curly hair, brilliantly purple eyes, large pillow like lips…..and a hand that was large enough to cup my fully erect member.

“Hey!” I hoarsely whispered.

“Shhhhhhhhh. It’s okay before we work the magic to change your life, I’m going to get you to relax.” And he unzipped my pants…

“DON’T! uhm….er…that is… uh….do…d…d.d..don’t you need to use a wand to create the ma-AH-ma ma magick?!”

He had just gone down on my throbbing member, released it from his mouth with a loud pop and looked up at me…. “Sometimes, one’s personal wand creates the magick better.” And down he went on me again.

In moments my clothes were all off of me. The way he worked his tongue on my prick, was such, I don’t remember if I removed all my clothing or if he did, and to this day have no idea to where the clothes disapeared. I only know was soon I buck nakked against this table, he was sucking my cock better than a Hoover vaccumm cleaner, and was rubbing the spot between my balls and my hole. The sensation ran up my spine, over my head, down my nose and into my lower lip. While his tongue pressed against the underside of my dong, stopping to linger on the underside of its head when the helmet runs into the slit, that sensation ran my dick, over my balls, up my abs, across my chest, up my chest, over my chin and into my lower lip.

“HUH! MOTHER FUCK!” I gasped. My head tilted back, tossing from side to side. My eyes rolled in the back of my head. My sholders snapped back while my arms and hands flailed. My toes curled. My legs became rigid. My breathing became erratic. And then it happened. With one final stoke of my balls, he sent them rising up and shrinking down as I spewed so much cum…… or did I?

Sébastien pulled on my cock, seemingly stretching it out further in its proportions. Then, he grabbed it, clamping his hand tightly around the shaft just under the head, gave it a tremendous squeeze, as if he could choke off the head from the rest of the cock, grabbed the head with his other hand, and with the squeezing one, proceeded to squeeze down my shaft towards my base like one would do with a tube of toothpaste, all against the pressure of my blowing wad!

It hits me like a canon ball right between the eyes. I was seeing stars. My body became totally rigid, arms, hands, fingers, feet, twisted and contorted, my head was snapped back mouth fully open, tongue popped out. My groin was vibrating, mini thrusts at hundreds of times per minute. I was making guteral noises like some lost, confused, overwhelmed cave man.

Suddenly I let out a “hooooooo!” My head snaps forward, my eyes cross, my torso flings forward, my toes move to stand on the their tips. Sébastien has just suddenly started blowing into my dick. No, not giving me a blow job, but blowing into my dick! His hand is pressing on my waist, in the middle of the back. It’s feels like it’s forcing all the air he’s blowing into me, to go down. I can feel my feet stretching…getting longer.

I try to say something, but I can’t make a sound. Well, I make a sound but it sounds more like when you take a balloon filled with air, stretch the mouth open towards the sides, but allowing the sides to stay touching and it producees that high pitched, rumbling fart sound….

Looking down I see him smile a wry smile and he places his finger side he mouth, still busy blowing air into me, as if to make a “shhhhhh be quiet” gesture.

He keeps blowing into me, adjusting his hold on me, and therefore adjusting the flow of the air. More and more to my feet, then to my legs, twisting me, sucking on my claves, causing even more air to flow to them creating little bubbles, medium bubbles, large bubbles, huge bubbles. Back and forth, bubbles so large he shouldn’t be able to create them with his mouth! Blows up my thighs…bigger…bigger, blows up my abs, my chest, my necks, shoulders, traps, delts, triceps, biceps, forearms. Squeezing me, suckling and licking on me, all over, each and every single inch! Blowing more and more into me, stetching me up higher, filling me out thicker.

My skin is tingling everywhere, feeling stretched tighter. The caress of his touch sending me into orgasm almost everytime. And he rubs and gropes, and stretches and pulls, and sucks and blows. Finally, he blows two more times, inflating my balls to a damn good proportioned sized. If this is real, I’m gonna blow at least a full cup of cum next time I jack off. And then he pulls and bunches and twists and pulls my cock once again, and bends it so that it’s pointing down. If he’s indicating that this should be the size of my prick soft, good lord am I hung!

I can see my shadow on the opposite wall. The shape of me is huge. I’m damn near beast like in my shape and size. I will be able to compete in the Olympia, forget this strongman act. Then he stands up. His head is about at the level of my nose. I am a beast!... … … He’s about as tall as my dad…this would make me about 6’ 6” tall. He pushes me over against the table. I’m slightly hovering above the ground.

“You will rest here. After a while you will hear a small pop. That is when your body will return to normal. This tent is air conditioned so you will be fine until I send for the ring master to hire you and the costumer can get you some clothes and the Quarter Master can get a tent set up for you. Welcome to your new life, Jansen the Strong Man.”

I…sat there? Hovering just above the ground, this giant balloon man figure. But suddenly however some crew members came in. They needed to check a piece of equipment, but needed to push it into the main tent to do so. Their entrance, blasted air round the tent, pushing me from against the table. They pull back the canavas of the main tent opening and pin them in place. They’re ready to push the object through to the main ring, but suddenly several people call from outside and they are told to come and assist. Their exit sends another blast of air round the sent that sends me floating into the main ring.

I should grab hold of the silver curtain, the canvas sides, the table, but I can’t. I’m a balloon man right now. Huge, hulking, balloon man, yes, but without strength and without usable limbs I can do nothing. I hover there for a long time in the center of the ring. I’m waiting…endlessly it feels like. For all eternity. For the love of God, when am I going to pop and be done?


There was a noise.

Meeeer eeerr eerrrrrrr err err err errrrerrrrrrrrrrrup

Again…. What is that noise? It sounds yet again….and once more… more and more… I know the sound… I’ve heard it…it is very distinct. Only a few things have it….

Meeer eeerr errr errrr errrrrup Meerrrrrrrup EEEERRRRUP

It feels warm in here. Very warm. I feel warm…my insides feel warm. My insides feel like their churrning….a sea…..a wave of hot liquid. No…. that’s not right. I don’t feel liquid in me right now. It’s air. Hot air. Hot……Churning….Air….Oh my gawd! The air inside me is getting hotter…it’s expanding, causing me to expand!

I hear the sound more and more and more. I see my shadow taking on greater height, broader width, more mass. I’ve got to stop this… I’ll get too big! I’ll be to huge!


There’s a cabinet for a man to step into beside me. My vision raises to the top of the door.


Its to above the cabinet now!


My arms are rising up and out away from me… my legs are spreading apart from one another. I see above the cabinet and its top is like to my chin!


My shape is become like the hulk, but with a tiny waist! I’m getting sooo thick!


So tall!


My cock shadow is getting so long!


The cabinet is sinking below my shoulders! Oh God, when’s this gonna stop? When am I going to pop? OH! SHOULD I POP NOW?!?!


The cabinet is looking so small! No! A gust of wind…. I’m drifting back…what am I drifting too?


Getting still taller! No! …oh the wind has flipped me….


I’m heading for the Lion area! Toward a pictchfork!


The cages are looking a bit small… oh shit! I’ve gotta stop…gotta stop growing! Gotta miss that pictchfork! NO ALMOST THERE! STOP WIND STOP! STOP!





… …. ….

“Well, and that’s how I came to be here. Just as I hit the pitchfork, I was ready to pop, but I was so big it caused this enormous explosion kind of sound. The force of the pop sent me flying back towards the entrance where I landed, creating another large thud kind of sound and denting the hell out of one of the tent poles.”

Well, yeah I dented a tent pole I mean, let me stand up here…do a double bi for ya… Hmmmmpf ahhhh yeah… Look at me! Look at these puppies! Almost four feet thick! I’m nine and a half feet tall, I weigh 1850 pounds, and that’s if I’m all cut up and ripped to shreds like I am right now. You… you don’t even come up to my waist. Takes a man who’s six foot six to do that. So if all this….. hhhhmmmmmpf…hmmmm yeah….comes sailing into a lil ole tent pole, even one from a circus bigtop, what do you think will happen?”

My dad? Well, he did come looking for me. Finally tracked me down and showed up the day we packed up to move. Right in the middle of signing autographs, making arrangements with Guiness Book people for a proper measuring, and a shoe fitting for these puppies down here….US Mens size 46 5E, 22.75 inches long!, Anyway he comes barging in, saying he’s gald to have found me, how he raised me on his own, and his cooking was what helped make me so huge and that he deserved half of whatever I’ll make.”

So I stood up and up and up, he only comes up to just under my belly button, I squat down, flex my bicep for him and stare him down and told him ‘The days of you bullying me, beating me into anything are over. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the stronger one now, and you are not a part of my life.’ Then with my hand about a foot away from his torso, I just casually flicked my hand into his gut, doubled him over breathless and knocked him back a couple of feet on his ass. He got up, ran like hell, not heard of anything from him except I heard he cleared out of the house, guess he didn’t want me to come back and find him.”

Whoa, what you reaching out for there, lil man? Yeah it’s that big. Almost as big as my thigh when it gets its pump in the morning. Naw, ya couldn’t take it. I’ve had barrels that couldn’t take it. Yeah..I jack a lot. This body, this size, produces tons of testosterone makes me hornier than hell all the time, but I go no partner. Now, if I had a partner that would be grand, double trouble, twice the muscle, but I’d have my equal to get it on with and make sure I don’t have a reason to sprout a boner during a show, especially since this thing’ll rip through my posers.”

So, yeah… you kind of need to be almost as big as me to as big as me to help me out. But, uhm….I’ve already trippled the amount of attendance they’ve got for this show, so if another fine young, giant man decided to join Jansen the Giant, I don’t think the Ring Master would mind too terribly much. But for official word, why don’t you go over there to that black and purple tent and talk to the gentleman in there. I’ll come by later and help you…with your tent pole.