An inflation commission for  TheHeliumTiger! Involves some delightful permanency :3

A frat thanks Ceejay for delivering them beer by blimping him up, though his swell time may last longer than one night...

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Ceejay’s Frat Blowup
By: Indi

As Ceejay finished pushing the heavy cart up the driveway, the cat took a moment to catch his breath. Beer deliveries to frat row tended to be exhausting, but at least he was at the last stop of the night. Once the four kegs were delivered he could finally head home and relax. If he were lucky maybe the Phi Omega Phi frat would tip him well, too.

Two rings of the bell later and the front door opened. Filling most of the doorway was a round, blue cheetah wearing glasses and a hoodie that didn’t even begin to cover his whole belly. “Beer’s here!” the cheetah yelled behind him, and Ceejay heard uproarious cheers echo out. He was quickly waved inside, the door slammed shut behind him.

Other members of the frat were hanging out in the main room of the house, well over a dozen of them. All were felines of some sort, and most seemed to be sporting a round gut as big or bigger than the cheetah’s. Ceejay swore their middles looked a little too perfectly round, but dealing with the kegs prevented him from thinking too hard on it.

The felines swarmed Ceejay as he began unloading the kegs. They were jubilant for the booze, thanking and praising Ceejay as if he’d just pulled them all out of a burning building. A couple even asked his name, chanting it afterwards.

Ceejay appreciated the attention, but once the kegs were unloaded he was eager to leave. “Alright guys, have fun,” he said, pushing the cart towards the door. He barely got two feet before walking right into the belly of the cheetah—Indi.

“Bro, you can’t leave yet!” Indi said, smiling wide. “We gotta reward ya for bringing the beer!”

“I’m...I’m good. A tip will work.” Ceejay was eyeing what little of the door he could see behind the cheetah’s girth.

“Needs to be bigger than that, bro! Come on, come on!” Indi wrapped an arm around Ceejay and ushered the smaller cat over to a tub on a table filled with tall beer cans, but no ice.

Ceejay shook his head. “I’m fine, really.”

He was promptly ignored. Indi grabbed a can and cracked it open, a hiss echoing out right before it was forced up against Ceejay’s lips. The cat’s eyes widened and his cheeks puffed out as they filled with a mysterious gas that soon pushed down his throat and into his stomach. He wiggled in confusion as his chubby middle swelled a little. When the can was pulled away he let out a short “uorrrp”.

Indi crushed the empty can and tossed it aside, then grabbed a second. Once again Ceejay felt the rush of the can’s contents blowing into him. His shirt steadily rode up as his belly ballooned out. After three whole cans his head was spinning and he felt buzzed, as if he’d just chugged a few beers.

“Wha...bworrrp...what was that stuff?”

“Super light bloat brew, duh! Air with a kick—or a fwoomp at least!” Indi laughed and slapped Ceejay’s hollow gut, which sounded like a drum.

Ceejay blushed and stumbled backwards. Three cans had been enough to make his middle resemble a beach ball, and all he could think about was how hard it’d be to squeeze behind the wheel and drive home. He saw Indi grabbing more cans and gulped. “Thanks again foworrrrrrrp—for the, uh, air. But I gotta—urrp—go.” Every time he opened his mouth he felt air trying to leak out, though the light pressure in his stomach wasn’t decreasing.

Unfortunately for the bloated cat, the other members of the frat had surrounded him. Indi tossed cans to the gathered frat boys, a big smile on his round face. “Show Ceejay how we party at Phi Omega Phi!”

With a crack, a hiss, and a fwoomp Ceejay’s inflation renewed. The frat members took turns filling the trapped cat up. They ensured there was always a can to his lips and his cheeks puffed, never giving him a chance to protest. Not that he could say much with how much he was belching.

He couldn’t slip away, either, not while penned in by the sizable bellies of the frat members. Fuzzy ball guts pressed against him, most sloshing to some degree. Ceejay looked between them all, his face red, and then down at his own middle, which was swelling enough to push the others away.

The cat blimped up, swiftly growing bigger than any of the frat boys. The seams of his pants and shirt ripped apart as his limbs puffed up as well, his blushing intensifying. Any paw that wasn’t forcing him to guzzle the alcoholic air was prodding or drumming on his taut sides. Some were even bold—or drunk—enough to outright belly bump the helpless cat. But as Ceejay got more and more air drunk, his worries drifted away. His eyelids lowered and he stopped squirming as much.

Can after can after can was emptied into Ceejay. The frat boys didn’t stop until they’d run out of the bloat brew, and by then the cat was a massive, lightly creaking sphere. Ceejay wobbled in place, a boozy balloon. His puffed up paws and head were barely jutting out from his round blimpy body. He was still blushing. “That was—hissourrrrrrp—amazing!” A burp and a puff of air escaped his lips.

“You’re a natural balloon, Ceejay!” Indi snickered and thumped on the cat’s middle, provoking a burp. “Putting us all to shame with how much you can chug!”

Other frat boys nodded in agreement, congratulating Ceejay with their own slaps and pats. The pokes were coming from all sides, constantly reminding him of just how huge a blimp he’d become. He let out a giggling hiss of air.

“See how well he rolls!” came a shout from the group. A flurry of paws pushed Ceejay onto his belly and spun him around. He wiggled a bit on instinct but didn’t struggle. A firm shove from Indi sent the round cat rolling across the room. “Meowwwwwwwurrrrrp!!” His short journey was halted by a bookshelf, which his burp rattled.

The success of the experiment led to cheers. And more rolling of course. From one side of the room to the other he went, rolled from one group of drunk frat boys to another, over and over again. He was spun and bounced and constantly nudged. He’d become the life of the party, and in his blimpy, drunken stupor, he reveled in it.

Ceejay was lifted up by the swarm of frat boys, who raised him above their heads. For a while he became their beach ball, tossed about so he didn’t touch the ground. His joy never faded, no matter how much he was teased about being more balloon than cat.

“Being a—hissworrp—blimp is the—braaaaaaap—best!” Ceejay bellowed, air hissing from his mouth. As the night went on, he never did notice how he remained just as taut and puffy as when he’d first been inflated, despite the steady stream of hisses and belches. To the buzzed balloon it was only a boon.

The frat boys all gradually swelled as well, annihilating the kegs Ceejay had brought along with dozens and dozens of cans and bottles. One-by-one they passed out, pinned under their own sloshy, swollen bellies. Ceejay was the last left standing—or, at least, wobbling. The blimp dozed off with a smile on his face, still belching as he slept.

* * *

As Ceejay stirred awake he groaned, then burped softly. The cat opened his eyes, groggy, and looked around the unfamiliar room before him. Empty cans and cups were scattered around. There was a tiger passed out under a table, his belly so round it nearly pressed against the bottom as he snoozed.

Memories of the night before suddenly hit Ceejay. Delivering beer to the frat. Getting inflated. All the partying. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten caught up in it all. At least it was his day off.

When the cat tried to move, though, he only managed a slight wobble. Turning his head pressed his blimpy cheek into his blimpy body. “Why am I—fsshorrrrrrrp—still inflated!”

“Whoa, delivery dude’s still a balloon.” Indi waddled into view, his enormous middle audibly sloshing. He looked barely mobile, more belly than cheetah. He felt around Ceejay’s circumference, pressing down every foot or so. “Still taut, too. Must be permanent. Bummer.”

“P-Permanent—hissurrrrp?!”

Indi picked up one of the crumpled bloat brew cans and checked the bottom. “Oh, that expired like, a year ago. Hehe, oops.” He tossed the can. “When that stuff goes bad it tends to make ya a permablimp.”

“No, no—bworrp—way! I can’t—swishorrrrrp—be a balloon—braaaaap—forever!” Ceejay was letting out more air and burps than words, but he hadn’t deflated even the tiniest bit. He was just as taut and round as ever.

“Being a blimp’s not that bad,” Indi insisted. “My roommate freshman year messed up in a chemistry lab and got filled with helium permanently. He makes good money as a car dealership ad balloon.”

The cheetah’s story did nothing to ease Ceejay’s fears. He didn’t want to believe—couldn’t believe—that he would never deflate, that he’d be more blimp than cat for the rest of his life. He frantically tried to force the air out, burping and blowing and swaying back and forth. Nothing worked. “Wh-What—shuurrp—what am I—uorrp—gonna do? MeowURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!!”

“Woo, you’re the belchiest blimp I’ve ever seen!” Indi chuckled and nudged the helpless Ceejay, prompting a pitiful meow. “Why don’t I roll ya home so you can start getting used to your newly expanded life?”

There was no resistance from Ceejay, who was too busy bemoaning his blimpy fate to care. Indi belly-bumped Ceejay over onto his back, then rolled him towards the exit. He squeezed the massive cat down a hallway and through a sliding glass door in the back that was almost too narrow. A few forceful shoves pushed him through, and soon he was being rolled down the sidewalk. He blushed hard once he realized every person they passed was staring at him.

“Ya know,” Indi said. “I bet if your work gets you a custom blimp-sized bodysuit you’d make for awesome ad space yourself! And all you’d have to do is sit around and be round. Dream job right there.”

The thought of spending every shift strapped down out front with the weekly special written across his enormous middle made Ceejay whine. He could already imagine the teasing, the selfies, the menacing with pointy objects. But what else was there to do for a cat who’d become a balloon?