july 7th 2025
NOTE: this story frankly discusses adult themes including: anxiety, bodily transformation, consent, death, depression, kink, relationships, and trauma. there are no explicit depictions of death, or of physical or sexual abuse, but these themes are discussed. reader discretion is advised.
"Can you please state your name, age, and occupation?"
"Sandra Ballard, twenty-eight. Currently on medical leave."
"And you declined to have video recordings made of our sessions, but you consent to having the audio recorded. Is that right?"
"That's right." Sandra wiggled her hands upward, causing her body to bounce slightly; it was the closest she could get to shrugging her shoulders. "Not like there'd be much to look at, anyway."
"Understood." Eliza smiled at her new client. "So, as you guessed in our initial phone call, I am a grad student working on my counseling certificate. Because of that, I can provide counseling services free of charge, in exchange for recording our sessions for evaluation purposes. The recordings won't be shared with anyone unless there's a risk of you harming yourself or others."
"Okay."
Nodding, Eliza removed her glasses. "So, if it's all right with you, I'd like to start by asking what brought you to counseling. What you hope to get out of it, if there's any concrete goal you have in mind."
The woman in the corner raised her eyebrows. Her form was a six-foot sphere, filled from inside with helium gas. The only visible interruptions to her round shape were her head, hands, and feet, sticking out around her meridian at roughly 72-degree intervals. A set of faded curtains was draped over her like a stole; though her bottom half was still technically exposed, having her nipples and back covered gave at least the impression of modesty.
"Some shady, maybe-not-exactly-legal inhalants turned me into a fucking beach ball." She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "So, yeah, I have some feelings about that."
"Well, would it be okay if I got a brief overview of how this happened? In your own words."
"Me and my girlfriend were looking to spice up our sex life," Sandra began, her voice even. "So we got some of those inhalant canisters from the head shop. They're supposed to balloon you up just like the ones at the aerotherapy clinics, except they last three or four hours instead of forty-five minutes."
"Had the two of you used them before?"
"Yeah, this was our fourth or fifth time. I was usually the blimp; we've only ballooned Jeri up once, I think."
Eliza made a small note on her tablet. "And what happened this time?"
"It didn't wear off." She sighed, closing her eyes. "We thought it was weird that I didn't start deflating at the four-hour mark. So we waited another hour, but it still didn't wear off. I wanted to just wait - you know, sleep it off - but Jeri insisted on calling a bariatric ambulance.
"We got to the hospital, and the nurses ran a bunch of tests, but nothing seemed to change." Sandra's eyes welled up with tears, but she blinked them back. "Those head-shop inhalants aren't regulated... like, at all. Apparently, using them too often can cause a buildup of tumeotoxins in the lungs, the digestive system. The doctor tried to be diplomatic, but the gist of it was, 'you're stuck this way.' Maybe forever."
"Well, it seems perfectly natural to be depressed as a result of something like this - it's a pretty radical change in your life." Eliza offered a tissue, but Sandra shook her head. "Have you dealt with depression like this before?"
"Just when my dad died. I thought... when he died, I kind of wished I could just... go to sleep, and not wake up." She paused. "I kind of feel like that since the accident - once, maybe twice a week."
Eliza offered what she hoped was a sympathetic nod. "Not to change the subject, but... how is Jeri holding up through all this?"
Sandra smiled, her lips constrained only slightly by her puffy cheeks. "Jeri's been really doting on me since it happened. I think she blames herself a little - which is silly, it was my idea to get blown up in the first place. The stress is taking a toll on her too, but she tries not to show it." Her smile faltered. "I guess it's lucky I wasn't still dating Don when this happened..."
She waited about a minute for Sandra to continue, but gave her an out when she didn't. "We can talk about that another time, if you like. You'd mentioned on the phone that you took a leave of absence from work; what was your job?"
"Programmer, over at TechCom." The inflated girl wiggled her plump fingers. "I can't really reach the keyboard like this, so..."
"Right." After scribbling something on her tablet, she smiled softly. "Do you have any hobbies that you've been able to enjoy with your time off?"
Sandra shook her head again. "I used to like going for walks now and then, when the weather was nice enough. Nothing too strenuous, just a little leisurely stroll. Can't go outside now, though, even if I could waddle; if so much as a personal scooter bumped into me, I'd go rolling into the drainage culvert." She paused, chewing her lower lip nervously. "Feel kind of... trapped, to be honest."
"Have you thought about applying for accommodations? Like an apartment with larger doorways?"
"We're on the waiting list for one of those conapts, yeah. They've got these ropes or something running along all the walls, so I'd be able to pull myself from room to room. Which I guess would be better than being stuck in this corner all the time."
Eliza nodded again. "So, unfortunately, our time today is almost up. If you want, we can go ahead and schedule my next visit."
"Is once a week okay?"
"Sure it is. You want to keep it on the same time each week? Wednesdays at 1400?"
Sandra did her best to nod, her chin pushed back upward by her own taut flesh. "Works for me. Not like I'm not going anywhere."
* * * *
When Eliza walked out of the living room, she saw Jeri in the kitchen; she was surrounded by cloth sacks, and busying herself emptying their contents into the refrigerator. Eliza smiled and waved, but Jeri called to her.
"Hey, Eliza?" The red-haired girl lowered her voice. "Look, I just wanted to thank you for being so accommodating. I know it's not exactly normal to make house calls like this."
She chuckled. "Well, one thing you learn in this profession is there's no such thing as 'normal.' And it's no problem; the clinic pays for my Tube card, so I may as well get a little time out of the office." Eliza offered her hand, and Jeri shook it. "Hope you both have a good evening."
After the therapist had left, Jeri went into the living room, where Sandra's nearly spherical form sat, watching a movie about East Germany; the volume was turned down, since having the speakers too loud made her whole body resonate uncomfortably.
"Hey, babe. I'm back from the Grocery Store Wars."
Her inflated partner smirked, tapping the Pause button on the remote controller strapped to her left hand. "Hope you don't mind cooking tonight."
"What kind of soup do you want - cheddar and broccoli, or baked potato?"
"Potato soup sounds good." ■