Set Escape On

Patient Zero was an artist named Jenna, but most of her fans knew her as JenPumps. She was involved in an ambitious creative effort for a particularly interesting community. Massively multiplayer games weren't unknown in Cyberdream, but they weren't nearly as popular as historians of the virtual would tell you they once had been. This made a certain sense, because all of humanity was already living inside such a game. Most contemporary virtual worlds were intended for individual use or small groups, but Jenna and her collaborators had a reason to build a dream within the 'Dream.

They were members of a fetish community focused on size, a remarkably diverse and creative group who were pleased with the additional mutability to human anatomy afforded by the simulation in which they lived, but who still felt that their ability to grow was far too limited. Legitimate cosmetic modifications were restricted in scope and were often locked behind financial barriers; illicit mods allowed for more freedom but carried significant risks; the most powerful of them were highly illegal. Size enthusiasts had responded by building a network that flourished with creatives of all types in pursuit of their expansive fantasies. Artists, authors, programmers, and performers stood at the heart of a surprisingly large community of fans eager to experience the human form expanded and exaggerated in nigh-infinite variations. They worked in every conceivable medium: traditional art and digital and holo, fixed and interactive, literature and visuals, performances using camera tricks and props and mods.

Jenna's area of expertise was holographic simulations, the most modern art form and the one requiring the most coding skill. The night of the incident, she was putting finishing touches on the visuals for a specialty of hers: ass inflation with air. The project that her team of kink creators was engaged in was the creation of a middle ground where the size community could congregate. It wouldn't be Cyberdream proper; it would be a holo, just a game. There wouldn't be any winning this "game," though; it was intended to be a large, detailed virtual world (though far more limited in scope than the 'Dream itself) in which people could meet and talk and interact much as though they weren't in a holo at all, with the notable difference that this world would contain the proper subroutines to allow size fetishists to indulge their impulses.

Pumps that could inflate body parts, lotions and potions and spells to bloat tits and asses and bellies to obscene sizes, spaces designated for those who wanted to walk around as tall as a skyscraper; the possibilities were endless, and supporters of the project proffered a never-ending stream of suggestions that added more functionality, and more complexity. Perhaps the most difficult task for the team's artists was integrating the look and feel of the transformations they created into any given holo character. If there were a limited number of appearance options for players to choose from, it would be a small matter to match the changes with each of them. If there were a smaller world with a limited number of participants, the code wouldn't have to be as optimized to avoid glitching; there were plenty of examples from other holos the community had created.

The team had decided early on, however, that they needed a powerful, flexible, detailed character creation process, as well as the option to load into the game with a copy of one's real image, and they needed every kind of expansion to work correctly on every kind of body. To create a central hub for a community with tastes as diverse and as extreme as size enthusiasts was no simplistic endeavour; they were breaking new ground to build a truly special and unique holo.

It was JenPumps who had made the most persuasive case to the community. She had written an impassioned appeal to their better nature, as well as their kink. The year before, she'd gone through the worst days of her life. Personal losses, a relationship shattered when she shared her inflation dreams, and a subsequent hit to her mainstream professional reputation had left her struggling mentally and financially, and she'd questioned her decision to be an artist at all, until the community rallied around her.

It wasn't exactly a surprise that it had happened, they'd done it as long as anyone could remember, she just never imagined they'd do it for her. Support, assistance and love poured in from friends and acquaintances and fellow artists and fans and people she'd never heard of, brought together by two enticements. The first was the art created in her honor, and her image; some of the best size artists around had raised donations by creating top-notch drawings and holoforms modeled (approximately) on her, pumping her up to enormous sizes as rewards for fundraising milestones.

The second, and more important, was their shared humanity, the bond created by the experience of being outside the norm, but out there together and in greater numbers than most people would guess. What if, she had asked, it were possible to come together in a space made for them, where they could show their support for each other almost in person? Where you could thank someone not just by making size art of them, but by actually making them bigger? It was that dual appeal that pulled the team together, and got thousands of people to put forward the resources necessary to do something really big.

Jenna had thus been central to the project, which led to her being central to the incident. On that fateful day, she had been testing the results of her butt inflation model on a variety of holoforms, and before she called it complete, she wanted to perform her usual final test: how did it look on a copy of an arbitrary human image?

Specifically, her own image.

It was hardly definitive, and wouldn't be the final revision by a long shot; if nothing else, ElkFlame would have to approve the art, and FoxOne would do an in-depth code review. Jen had her own standards, though, so she always tried every inflation she created on herself before she was satisfied with it. Besides, a holoform couldn't tell you if you'd gotten all the sensory input right, just the appearance. Inflation fetishists held her holos in high regard because you could feel the rush of air or the sloshing of liquid, experience the pull of skin being stretched tight, hear the creaking and squeaking of your own body being filled up. She pulled up a mirror, grabbed the pump she'd been working with, and paired the effect to her holo representation. In the final version, that would be done with a hose, but for now it was the effect on the target that was important. With a critical eye to her own work, she began pumping.

Oooh this was a good one. She preferred hand pumps to electric; there was a visceral pleasure in using your muscles to force pulse after pulse of air into your body (or someone else's) that you just didn't get with a continuous flow from an automatic pump or a tank. It took longer to fill up, but that was occasionally exactly what you wanted. There was good resistance, it took just a little effort for each pump, like the skin was trying to fight back but you were winning. The feel was excellent, too; she'd been working on a sensation like a breeze across the skin but inside the body, and it was working beautifully. It complemented the stretching nicely, the timing synched up with no perceptible lag.

She got to about half again as large as normal when the sound effects kicked in, right on cue. Faint squeaking as she shifted, based on balloons but pitched down a bit and softened, conveyed what she imagined inflated skin would sound like. Details like this took effort, but they were key. At about double her normal size, she stopped to review the visuals. She pulled up the console to swap through outfits.

First, bare; nice, smooth joins to her frame, no artifacts, bouncy and firm as appropriate for being filled with air. It stood out more than a natural expansion would have, which was what she intended. Alright, tight jeans; ooh, that was attractive, she needed to check who coded these because they hugged the curves perfectly, fitted but not like they were painted on. Maybe a flowy dress; quite pretty, the fabric draped appropriately, fell back into place perfectly after a twirl. Alright, one more, leggings; hmm, was the compression effect really right? Actually, it wasn't bad; leggings always did better with jiggle than firm bounce, but in this case the look of slightly pressing in on the hips and cheeks might work. Especially if, when she pulled them down a bit...yes! Just lovely, puffing out above the waistline as the air below was squeezed upward, that would definitely work. Jen was satisfied; she wiped the TF from her holo on the console, checked her work into the hub for review, and deregistered. A familiar blip in sensory input, and she had returned to her real image, back in Cyberdream and surprisingly tired.

Jen stretched, her simulated muscles stiff from motionlessness. She shut down her holo system and padded gratefully to her bedroom, ready to get into some comfortable pajamas and curl under a blanket for the night. The weather was still rather chilly for spring. Once the project was done, she'd have more time for commissions; maybe she could save up and find a place in the more southerly regions of BOMA, somewhere below the snow line. Or better yet, once the still-unnamed expansion world was fully operational, she could try sleeping there. Would probably be more fun. For now, though, she was pleased with her work; as she sleepily went through her bedtime routine, she made a mental note to check the documentation on those jeans, because they'd be perfect for developing the clothes bursting for her models. She tucked herself into bed, grabbed a plushie from her pile to cuddle with, and went to sleep.

Morning arrived all too soon, and Jen awoke to a gentle reminder from her datapad that she had a breakfast meeting. Nothing too urgent, thankfully; JenPumps was sitting down with BalloonBobbie to discuss some collab work over bagels and coffee. Still, it would be rude to cancel on such short notice, so she dressed in a red v-neck and comfortable blue jeans. Hmmmf, well they were comfortable the other day; she had a bit of trouble getting them over her butt. She hadn't been getting out much, spending a lot of time stationary while she did holo testing; maybe she needed to hit the gym. Oh well, the cafe was within walking distance if she left early enough, she could get a little exercise that way. A little time making sure her red hair wasn't too out of control, a warm jacket against the cool spring morning, and she was out the door.

BalloonBobbie was a shy young woman, with short brown hair, a generous figure, and a penchant for inflation art. She and Jen were planning intersecting image sequences, alternating a 2D drawing with a holoform of the same character as they grew. It was going to be an interesting challenge to translate between the two mediums, and the two women enthusiastically brainstormed the steps over their meals. It was a lovely way to start the day, and Jen gave Bobbie a friendly hug before they parted.

This brief exchange, as innocuous as it seemed at the time, would prove momentous in the coming days. Neither woman could possibly have been aware that they had just initiated the spread of an incident that would threaten the stability of Cyberdream. They would find out soon enough, though.

BalloonBobbie walked home alone, inspired by her breakfast with a talented friend, ready to make some sketches. By the time she stepped through her door, her top was feeling rather tight, but she put it out of her mind as she sat at her workstation and began to draw. The figure was coming along nicely, but she always had trouble getting the arms right. Luckily, a mirror she'd placed next to her desk let her get a reference any time she needed one; she looked over, moving to take up the relevant pose, and froze in shock. Her typically E-cup bosom was straining the seams of her top, pumped up round and firm to at least twice their usual volume.

They continued to grow as she watched, her eyes growing wider as her breasts ballooned. Was she actually inflating? This was impossible! With every breath, her shirt pulled tighter, as the sounds of cloth losing its integrity, which she'd only experienced in holos before, echoed from her own deepening cleavage. How big was she going to get? They weren't heavy, but they were certainly leaving cup sizes behind. She gasped when the fabric ripped, and grinned as this inexplicable inflation subsided, leaving her with tight, full tits the size of beach balls and nearly as spherical. Bobbie had no idea what had happened, no clue why her fantasies had suddenly come to life, but she had to show her boyfriend; she sent him a text inviting him over immediately. The spread of the incident had begun.

Jenna ran a couple of errands on her way home, and had to shift a bag of groceries to her left hand when she saw a face she recognized. The young man ahead of her was fairly short, with a slim build and angular features, wearing pants a little too big for him, a warm jacket, and a knit cap over his jet-black hair. He was fairly unremarkable at first glance, but Jen knew several personal details about him that weren't readily visible.

First, he'd blush if, instead of calling him Matt when you met him on the street, you called him HotFloof, the pseudonym under which he created some of the most believable, and frequently cum-soaked, furry expansion holos she'd ever seen. His art was one of the reasons she cared so much about meticulous attention to detail. Second, he had a few mods that put him closer to the fantasies than most people; he had a cute, twitchy nose, his cap hid not just his hair but a pair of extraordinarily soft bunny ears, and the extra room in his trousers hid a short, fluffy rabbit tail. Knowing his work, they possibly contained more, but it would have been rude to ask. The artists smiled companionably at each other, and exchanged a high five as they passed.

Later analysis of the routines involved in the incident indicated that, while the error that released them into the wild was likely a mistake born of inexperience, the modification code itself was remarkably advanced. While not intelligent, it evolved and improved over time. Even in the earliest stages, such as in the cases of HotFloof and BalloonBobbie, it was able to build on what already existed in the minds and images of those it affected. With Bobbie, it had only her inflation-focused thoughts to work with; for Matt, there was more, because he had mods.

Jenna set her groceries down in the kitchen, hung up her jacket, and started to unpack her purchases. It had been an enjoyable morning, with reminders of her beloved community both planned and unexpected, and she was feeling totally ready to work. It was definitely time to work on the clothes-bursting animations. Speaking of which...she made a quick stop in the bathroom on the way to her holosystem, and these jeans were much tighter than she remembered them. Had they shrunk somehow? Or had she really been putting on that much weight? With the way the fabric was hugging her curves, her butt looked huge. It wasn't as though she was lacking in voluptuousness, but this looked to be significantly more booty than she was used to. Oh well, there was art to make, she'd worry about it later.

She took her familiar, comfortable seat where she did all her work, registered with the holo, and her senses switched over to the expansion sim. Okay, she did have to get to the gym; the extra mass behind her had followed her over when the simulation read her real image, so it wasn't just the jeans. She pulled up the console, dressed in the form-fitting pants she'd tried yesterday (which were far more comfortable than her real ones), and sent a quick ping to Redforge, the woman who'd coded them. Another top-notch holo artist, she'd begun her career making equipment for sword-and-sorcery games (hence her handle) before carrying her talents over to coding clothes for extraordinary anatomy in the size community. This would be a fun collaboration; working with other artists had been a highlight of her experience since her first joint effort with HotFloof. Learning from Matt, striving to reach his level, had been formative, and she looked forward to continuing her education.

Matt was itchy. Like, all over. Were allergies possible for a person to have in the 'Dream? Maybe he just needed a shower. It had been nice running into JenPumps, but since he'd seen her it felt as if there was a powerful urge under his skin that he needed to release. Had that momentary touch of hands kicked off this unfamiliar feeling? It wasn't like it could actually be connected to her, but that was the only event that fit the timing. He stripped off his clothes, freeing his ears and tail from their stuffy confinement, and turned on the water. He and Jen had been friends for years, ever since she'd talked to him about how his holos inspired her. Maybe he should call her up, stop by her place. She was cute. He could breed her. Wait, what? No, they didn't have that kind of relationship, where had that thought come from? She was a friend and a colleague, he'd never jeopardize that, even considering the kind of art they both made.

He got into the shower and tried to relax, and hopefully scrub this itching off his skin. It could be anyone. There were lots of hot girls, plenty of them would probably be into him, he could fill any number of them. Okay, what? Floof shook his head, his ears shedding water droplets. It was like the side of him that he normally poured into his fetish art was insisting on being heard; he couldn't remember ever being this horny. Hell, he was in the shower, he was hard, and his brain wouldn't shut up about it. Might as well take care of business.

He stroked his shaft, and it felt amazing; something was definitely going on, but if it felt that good, he wasn't going to fight it. Gripping his member, it felt bigger than usual, and the desire, no the need to come flooded through him. As he slid his hand up and down, a strange heat washed over him, flowing in ever-widening waves from his crotch. He watched in amazement as his body shifted, a process he hadn't seen since he was modded and never to this degree.

The skin of his genitals darkened to nearly black, and his dick swelled and reshaped, becoming thick and flared with a sheath at the base, not to mention stretching to well over a foot long. His balls were next, bloating up to the size of grapefruits, pulsing with a sensation of density like nothing he'd ever experienced, until suddenly they stretched and split, like cells dividing, and the feeling of fullness and need redoubled. As though that rush opened a door, the itching intensified for a moment before a wave of soft, black fur spread across his body. The hands moving along his cock twitched, changing to more closely resemble paws, and the bones of his face distorted into a visage he knew would be distinctly rabbit-like.

The big one was coming, he could feel it. His legs shook as both pleasure and the remaking of his bones stood him on his toes, and as his thighs bulked with muscle and his stance shifted to one more suitable for hopping, orgasm struck him like a hammer. His four testicles felt as dense as neutron stars, and the massive eruption from his cock quickly outpaced the shower. There were gallons of it, and he just couldn't stop coming. Several minutes later, his climax finally winding down, the water getting cold, he shuddered and smiled; finally, he was himself. He was free. He had to share this glory. It would be a terrible shame if he were the only one with this experience. Some instinct told him that he wasn't alone.