Prose That Blows

The Sting, by notsosupersaiyan

THE STING

by notsosupersaiyan

Mary shivered in the brisk autumn air as she jogged down the path.  She knew that most people would think she was nuts for being outside in such flimsy attire.  But she liked the exercise, the crisp evening atmosphere, and the solitude of the lake behind her home.  And when she met a cute guy on the path, she liked showing off her shapely body in this tight leotard.

Distracted by the cold and by her music player, Mary let her guard down.  And so, when a bee landed on the back of her neck, a moment’s hesitation was all it took for her to get stung.

Mary froze in her tracks, her heart racing.  She knew from experience that her allergy would flare up in moments.  Indeed, she could already feel her chest tingling as the reaction took hold.  She only had a few minutes to get back to her house, all the way on the other side of the lake!

As fast as her legs would carry her, Mary took off back down the path.  As she ran, she felt the tingling sensation pour down her torso, spreading through her hips, and flowing into her thighs.  Seconds later, the pressure began.  Her breasts stopped jiggling and firmed up with gas.  Her neckline slowly dipped from modest to plunging as pale, creamy flesh bulged out the top.  Mary shuddered, covering her blossoming bosom with her arms as the chilly air caressed it.

Soon, Mary’s condition spread to her lower body.  Her butt and abdomen rounded out, their tumescent curves filling with yet more gas.  Her protruding belly ate up what little slack the tight fabric had to spare, and she grimaced as the leotard bit deeply into her crotch and billowing backside.  Mary found herself constantly having to readjust her gait.  Every time she picked up some decent speed, her hips widened, or her inner thighs starting bouncing off each other, and she had to slow down and sort herself out before she lost her balance.

Halfway home, Mary couldn’t even run anymore – her thickening thighs were so turgid that she could barely bend them.  After some experimentation, she found she could skip reasonably well; the springiness of her pressurized legs practically launched her into each step.  She kept overshooting her mark and flying off the path, though, which slowed her down even more.  And, worryingly, every skip seemed to send her higher and higher into the air.

The lake was situated at the bottom of a depression in the earth, and a set of stairs led up to her backyard.  At this point, Mary could no longer lift her legs, so tightly were they packed with pneumatic force.  By standing on one tiptoe, she was barely able to get her other foot on the next step.  Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, and she nervously bit her lower lip, as she felt her body getting lighter by the second.

Just when she had cleared the final step, a sudden gust of wind sailed right into her.  Mary screamed in sheer terror, pinwheeling her arms, as she was plucked from the ground and sent flying out over the lake!  Looking down, she saw only the gaping chasm of her cleavage; she didn’t know whether she was rising or falling.  After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a faint splashing sound, and felt a soft sensation beneath her feet.  After a moment of confusion, Mary realized, to her astonishment, that she was literally standing on the surface of the water!  She also noticed at this point that the tingling sensation had abated – her allergic reaction was finally over.

Mary was wracked by sobs of relief that she wasn’t going to float away.  Soon, however, she found that she was in a different sort of trouble.  Her shoes had no traction on the lake’s surface, and she couldn’t get her feet down far enough to tread water.  Not many people used this jogging path, and the wind didn’t come down the depression, either.  Finding herself stranded in the middle of the lake, Mary decided to make the best of things and listen to her music player.

As she was fiddling with the controls, her boobs burst forth from the overstressed spandex, knocking the device from her hands.  She made a clumsy grab for it, but it slipped between her fingers.  And as her ballast sank to the murky bottom, Mary rose slowly into the colorful dusk sky.

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One Response

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  1. swmmp said, on April 2, 2011 at 7:46 am

    Good story


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