[Novel] Sealed in your Worst(Ideal) Scenario (Patreon)

The scent of crushed roses and heavy, intoxicating incense hung thick in the air of Lady Freyja’s opulent quarters. I had been summoned here just moments ago—or was it hours? The memory was a shattered mosaic. I remembered stepping through the gilded doors, a sudden, sweet smoke enveloping me, and then… nothing.

Awareness returned not as a rush, but as a slow, strange stretching sensation.

I tried to blink, but I had no eyelids. I tried to speak, but I had no mouth. My entire field of vision was bathed in a glossy, translucent purple hue. Panic flared as I looked across the plush pink carpet and saw a horrifying sight: my own body, the chosen hero, slumped completely lifeless in a lavish armchair.

Before I could even process the existential dread of being separated from my physical form, a melodious voice, dripping with dark temptation and honeyed malice, echoed around me.

"My dear Bearer of the Runic Sword... shall we indulge in a simple, adulterated activity of temptation and lust?"

A shadow fell over my distorted, purple-tinted vision. A pair of soft, manicured hands pressed against my 'sides,' sinking into my form with a loud, rubbery squeak. I was suddenly lifted into the air, the room spinning dizzily until I was face-to-face with an ornate floor mirror.

"But the catch," the sultry voice purred right beside me, "let's re-enact a naughty dream of yours~..."

I stared at the mirror. Reflected back was the dark witch herself, Gullvieg. But she wasn't wearing her usual extravagant, revealing sorceress attire. Instead, she was dressed in a tight, grey schoolgirl cardigan, a dark tie, and a pleated black skirt that was criminally short. Her long, amethyst hair flowed down her back like a silken waterfall, catching the ethereal light of the massive full moon shining through the open balcony doors.

But that wasn't the most shocking part of the reflection. I looked at where I should be in her hands.

A balloon. A giant, glossy, purple party balloon. And right in the center of it, a comically distressed `>_<` face was etched into the rubber.

Wait what... HUH?!?!?!?! My internal scream echoed soundlessly. The witch had actually ripped my consciousness from my body and stuffed it into a literal balloon!

Gullvieg giggled, a wicked, breathy sound that sent a strange vibration through my entire rubbery form. "Oh, don't look so deflated, Hero," she teased, tracing a sharp fingernail over my smooth surface, making me shudder. "I peaked into that little mind of yours while you were out. Such fascinating, suppressed desires. I thought it only fair to bring them to life."

She turned away from the mirror and walked toward the center of the room, carrying me effortlessly. She set me down on the thick, plush carpet at the foot of the grand, silk-draped bed.

"Now," Gullvieg whispered, her pale violet eyes gleaming with mischievous intent as she stood over me. "Let's see how well you handle the pressure."

She turned around, presenting her back to me, and slowly lowered herself.

SQUEEEEEEAK.

My entire world compressed. The sheer weight of the beautiful witch pressed down on my top, forcing my rubbery sides to bulge outward dramatically. The `>_<` face stretched across my front perfectly encapsulated the mix of immense pressure, absolute helplessness, and overwhelming embarrassment.

Because of my precarious position on the floor, and the incredibly short hem of her pleated skirt riding up as she sat, my purple-tinted vision was immediately filled with the sight of her purple-and-white striped panties.

Gullvieg leaned back slightly, adjusting her weight and forcing another loud, squealing protest from my balloon body. She rested her hands on my sides, her long, bare legs stretched out gracefully on the carpet. She glanced back over her shoulder, a sultry, utterly victorious smirk playing on her lips.

"Comfortable?" she asked innocently, though her eyes betrayed her wicked amusement. "You make a surprisingly excellent cushion, Hero. So soft... so yielding."

She bounced slightly, just once, sending a shockwave of stretching rubber and dizzying sensation through my confined soul. The scent of her dark, sweet perfume was overpowering, mingling with the bizarre scent of latex that was now my own body.

"We have the whole night ahead of us," Gullvieg hummed, shifting her hips and grinding down slightly into the yielding surface of my balloon form, causing my vision to warp and stretch further. "And since you can't go anywhere, or do anything... I think I'll just sit right here and enjoy the moonlight. Try not to pop from the excitement, my dear~."

The minutes stretched on in a bizarre, agonizingly slow blur, much like the glossy purple latex of my new, unnatural form. Gullvieg, it seemed, was far from satisfied with merely using me as a simple seat.

With a wicked glint in her pale violet eyes, she had decided I wasn't quite accommodating enough. Through some dark, unspoken magic—or perhaps just sheer, humiliating physics—she began to inflate me. Torrents of air rushed into my confined soul, forcing my rubbery walls to expand to an abnormal, massive size. I could feel every inch of my surface pulling terrifyingly taut, the dark purple hue of my vision lightening as my 'skin' stretched to its absolute limits. I was now a colossal sphere dominating the plush bedroom floor, my printed >_< face stretched comically wide, perfectly mirroring my silent, internal panic.

Once I was inflated to her exact, perilous specifications, her assault became truly relentless.

Squeeeeeeeeeal.

The loud, high-pitched protest of highly pressurized rubber echoed through Lady Freyja’s quarters as Gullvieg climbed atop me completely. She didn't just sit this time; she completely straddled my massive dome. Sprawling her upper body forward, she wrapped her arms around my curved front, her cardigan-clad chest sinking deep into my yielding, yet incredibly tense, surface.

Because of my massive new size and her sprawling posture, her short, pleated skirt offered absolutely zero concealment. Kneeling and gripping my sides with her soft thighs, she created deep, heavy indentations in my form. Through my warped, stretched vision, all I could focus on was the mesmerizing, dominant sight of her purple-and-white striped panties directly in my line of sight, pushing down against my absolute limits.

And then, she began to do that.

Slowly, deliberately, she began rolling her hips, grinding herself deep into the taut, squeaky rubber. The friction generated an intense heat and a deep, reverberating hum that vibrated through every single inch of my inflated consciousness. Each downward thrust of her hips threatened to pop me entirely, a terrifying game of pressure and absolute submission.

She leaned her head down, her silver-purple hair cascading over my sides, and pressed her face close to my glossy surface to whisper sweet, pervasive nothings directly into my trapped mind.

"Look at you... so massive, so incredibly tense," she purred, her breath fogging the latex. "Does it feel good, my trapped little Hero? Being completely beneath me, stretching so wide just to take my weight? You feel so wonderful like this... trembling under me, ready to burst from just a single, sharp movement..."

She giggled, grinding her hips down with a sudden, forceful shift of her weight that made my rubbery body scream in protest. "Just relax and enjoy the pressure, darling. You belong to the Witch of Lust now."