A shadow looms over Kyle’s recovering body just as Peter exits. Even as he grows, the ground shakes as a new figure kneels by Kyle’s side.
“I’m Jack.” Is all he says before two large, calloused hands scoop underneath Kyle’s still soft form, indenting the sides as Jack lifts him up.
“OOF!” Kyle’s yelp is cut off into a gurgle as the cum inside him plops towards his face and rear, ballooning both out as his waist shrinks to almost nothing in Jack’s hands.
It’s a short but disorienting walk to Jack’s room, but with the loud slam of a door and click of a light switch, Kyle sees an eerily similar sight to that of his and Peter’s dorm. Condoms, fleshlights, crushed beer cans and empty vodka bottles, and even dried cum stains litter the room.
By now, Kyle is about 2.5 feet long, but still vaguely hotdog shaped, with little arms and legs that have swollen with the force of cum. Is it growing with him? Kyle has little time to ponder as he’s tossed onto what he presumes is Jack’s bed, sloshing violently as his vestigial limbs flail.
“I’ll clean you up after you pay my fee, boy.” Jack spends little time explaining before he’s taking a monster cock out of his boxers and aiming it for Kyle’s relatively tiny mouth. The boy has no time to object as the mushroom tip puckers his lips into a hole, his face rebounding with the impact as his lips stretch to make room for the intruding cock with a ‘pop’. His eyes fish eye with how his head expands to fit the head, then the shaft, until he’s impaled up to the balls.
Jack’s meaty fist squeezes his middle for purchase until it closes around his own shaft, and then begins to jerk back and forth with so much force that Kyle thinks his face, or ass, then face, then ass, might burst with the displaced fluid already inside him. It’s only when Jack finally bursts that he tries to gargle out a muffled cry for him to stop. But it’s too late, and Kyle feels the new volume bloat his fragile body out even further, until his tiny arms and legs absorb and flatten into his now oversized flesh-condom body.
Jack unceremoniously pulls out and sits back, smiling smugly at the helpless Kyle.
“Alright little buddy. Time to get you nice and clean.” He cups his hands together and gathers the fat cum balloon up, carrying it to his bathroom sink, where he plops it down into the basin and then leaves the room.
Kyle’s eyes look around wildly. He’s nauseous from how his eyes bob on the spread surface of his face, and with the cum bubbling beneath his thin surface. Trying to spit some out, a small stream spurts from his puckered, swollen lips.
Jack returns with some sort of plastic tank, and removes a want attatched to it.
“This’ll do you good, little buddy.” Without much warning, he grabs and stretches Kyle’s lips and shoves the end of the wand between them, then ties them around it like the lip of a balloon.
Kyle can only squeal and wiggle his body, making it jiggle and gyrate so much that it slaps against the sides of the sink with a wet ‘plap, plap, plap!’
Jack only chuckled, as if he’s looking down at a cute puppy or kitten, then bends over to twist an unseen knob on the tank.
“I’ll shower too.” He says, just as the water hits Kyle and billows him outwards. His screams are drowned in water logged gurgles as more and more liquid fill him to mix with the cum already stretching the poor boy into nothing but a fat, peach colored bladder.
His body slowly but surely fills to fit the contours of the sink, until it’s rising out of it like dough, the rim of porcelain dimpling his sides like the top of a muffin by the time the shower shuts off and Jack reappears.
“All clean.” Is all he says, gathering Kyle’s ruined body up once more, with more difficult this time, and carrying him back to Peter’s room. He deposits the balloon boy onto the bed and pats its head, making the entire thing squeak and wobble and squirm, and then leaves.