26 years of age (he/they) sketching 🔞 feedism and inflation kink blog 🔞 minors/blank blogs/Pro-AI Blogs do not interact. blimp-freak is my main blog follow me on bluesky https://bsky.app/profile/blimp-freak.bsky.social
Genuine question, but does anyone have any drawing exercises recommendations? Mostly stuff for faces at the moment, but as you can see with my blog I'm trying to do pin-ups
An attempt to sketch me (kinda) using screenshots I took from the Snackrooms. Please check out the Snackrooms game and its creator Blobygon, it's a lot of fun!!
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I'm just gonna post the first draft of a short story I wrote back in September. I haven't touched it at all since then, but I may come back to it. I just wanna hear what people have to say about it.
It's very rough and still has notes in. The names are from Agatha Christie's "The Mystery of the Blue Train" novel.
You're Nothing but a Cheap Balloon, Draft One
The office worker was rather nervous when he came into the elevator. He was fidgeting and glancing around the compartment, keeping to the fringe of the steel box. He tried to keep his eyes off of her, the woman who was taking up the majority of the room: Madame Ruth. She enjoyed it when others were nervous in her presence, the uneaseness was like honey to her.
There was an immensity to her: both physically and charismatically. She took up the majority of the elevator. She wore a cream white dress that was stretched taut over her swollen belly and her wide hips.
Most people, at first glance, assumed she was late into her pregnancy. They could not be further from the truth. Madame Ruth was an inflation fetishist: people who took satisfaction in filling themselves with air, akin to a balloon.
However, even amongst that strange crowd, Madame Ruth took it to an extreme. While people would have a fine line between participating as a human and indulging as a balloon, Madame Ruth made no such distinction in her life. From her first minute waking up to the final hour before her sleep, she was blown up like a balloon. To her, she was the human and the balloon perfectly synthesized.
She relished in taking up as much space as possible with her pneumatically-enhanced girth. She loved it when people would turn their heads and gawk at her hugeness; she would go down as many narrow alleyways or cramped areas to exaggerate her immensity, such as the elevator she was sharing with this minute office worker.
A smirk played across her glossy pink lips. She stood tall, keeping her hips poised out to give the illusion she was bigger than she already was. It was moments like these where she wish she could spontaneously expand, like a self-inflating air mattress. Just take a deep breath and take up more and more space, to the point she would be crushing the poor, poor office worker underneath her air-fattened bulk.
In fact, she often daydreamed about growing to absurd proportions, something monsterous, almost horrifying. She would imagine herself towering over the city down below, a behemoth of a woman, laughing darkly as people panicked at her grandeur. The thought always tickled her.
The elevator dinged open and the worker - edging away from her - attempted to make his escape. Madame Ruth, devilishly, took a small step forward as the worker tried to scram out. He brushed against her belly and a sputtering a quiet bout of sorrys. He stumbled out, nearly tripping in the process, and ran away, blushing a deep red.
When the elevator closed, Madame Ruth chuckled warmly to herself. She lived her moments like that. Shame, however, he didn't show any interest in her. He was rather cute. Who knows, those who fancied balloon-women often blushed the hardest. Maybe she would ask if he was available sometime this week?
She spent the rest of the ride in silence. She was headed straight to the top. High above all of the offices and paperwork, there was a place for her fellow inflationists. A socialite club for those with an appetite to grow larger: The Inflation Boutique [think of a cleverer name].
The doors opened and she waddled across to the receptionist - a smartly dressed woman with hair like the sun and a smile like the moon.
"Ah, Madame Ruth," she said softly. "It's lovely to have you back again. Is there anything we can get for you for your time here?"
Madame Ruth returned the smile. "Not at the moment. Thank you, Glacia."
"Of course, Madame. Oh! Just one thing: Madame Mirelle is here at the moment and would like to have a word with you."
Madame Ruth's face darkened. Madame Ruth was one of the defacto large names within the Boutique. The other members were often in awe and envy how often she was able to stay inflated and, if in the right mood, how vast she could expand.
The Boutique would shift their focus whenever Madamne Ruth made her visits. The other members and staff would shower her in compliments. Sycophantically tell her how beautiful and how grand she was, in an attempt to try and parce out her secrets to her expansion.
She would feint humility and claim they too could reach the heights that she had long ago climbed, claiming to be unaware of their ulterior motives. In truth, she knew better than most an inflationist's lust for size. It was beyond intoxicating. Most would pop if they tried to get to half her size, in her mind's eye.
She knew she held a magical power over everyone there. Almost everyone. There was only one who would match her dedication and size to inflation: Madamne Mirelle. How they hated each other.
Whenever the two of them were in the Boutique together it was as if the air was full of electricity. Throughout their time together, they would try and one up each other in size, say small snide comments about one another to the other patrons, hoping that the other one would pop in their vanity.
How Madame Ruth loathed her.
Madame Ruth gave the receptionist a false smile. "Thank you for informing me, Gracia," her voice sickly sweet. She then waddled into the boutique.
It was a very spacious area, with large seats, oak paneled walls, and all sorts of tanks and pumps in various alcoves for design and use. [More description, describe the other patrons there. Are they all inflate?] There was a bar at the back, with various bottles of very fine booze. At the bar, she saw her: Madame Mirelle.
She was handsome. She side strattled to the bar, her belly even more pronounced than Ruth's, cover by a teal dress that was stretching to near transluscence, showing the shape of her navel. She had long dark hair and sharp violet eyes that were shadowed in deep blue.
She looked over at the entrance to see Madame Ruth and her blue lips curved in a venomous smile.
Madame Ruth, keeping her head high, waddled over to the bar and sat right in front of Madame Mirelle, their bellies mere inches from each other. Madame Ruth could hear the groaning and creaking of Mirelle's dress.
"How nice it is to see you, Ruth," said Mirelle bittersweetly.
"Likewise," Madame Ruth said curtly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I've been doing some consideration."
"Oh?"
That must be a first, Ruth thought. Her having a thought.
"It's no secert that we are two... bodies of a celestial nature." Madame Mirelle rubbed the top circumfirence of her taut belly. "Everyone at this club certainly attracts towards us, especially as we... take on more gravity."
"Go on."
"And when two bodies with grand gravity interacts... well, calamity is sure to ensure, don't you know?"
"Talk plainly," Madame Ruth said flatly. "What are you trying to say?"
"You never were one for wordplay," Mirelle tisked. She adjusted herself in her seat, her belly brushing up against Ruth's. "We are the two of the largest members of the club, but we both know there can only be one top-dog. This game that we play is enveloping everyone as we take on more and more inches. I think we need to have a wager between the two of us."
Madame Ruth's face darkened. "What is it that you are suggesting?"
"Oh deary me, must I spell everything out? I challenge you to a Contest of Size." [Come up with a better name. Perhaps something from one of the romance languages? Be clever with it.]
Other members murmured and turned their focus on the two. Madame Ruth could feel their eyes burning at the back.
Madame Ruth blanced. A Contest of Size? Very rarely something would be decreed in the Boutique. The last time Ruth had seen two people engage in a Contest of Size, both the contestants burst like cheap balloons. One of which was one known as "The Madman," [give him an actual name. Little more backstory. Based on Phraggle-Balloon] for he proclaimed he was bigger than a tree, a mountain, the world. She was a newcomer when his vanity got the better of him.
A Contest of Size was not something that could truly be refused. Madame Ruth knew if she were to refuse such a challenge, she would always be known as a second rate blimp, in the shadows of Madame Mirelle. She would never be taken seriously there ever again.
In truth, she knew that Mirelle was her equal in size, and was deathly afraid that she would meet the same fate as the Madman.
But popping be damned, her pride was on the line.
Madame Ruth stuck her chin up and smirked, putting on a face braver than what she felt.
"Very well," she said, hautily. "I accept your challenge." Her voice high and loud for all to hear. People gasped and faint whisper were heard all over.
Mirelle smirked. "Very good." She stood up, awkwardly shifting off of her seat, pressing her pneumatically-enhanced belly against her rival's. Ruth couldn't help but blush.
Silence descended on the boutique like a woollen blanket. Not even a murmur could be heard. Ruth could feel every eye on her and her expanse. For the first time since she could remember, she felt rather small. But she redoubled and reminded herself that she would be the greatest blimp of them all. She would show Mirelle that right before her popping.
The two women took several steps away from each other, gauging how big they would get. Two staff members mousily wheeled two large tank to them, each with a black rubber hose. Gingerly, the staff members handed the women their respective hose, which they both took with zeal.
Ruth let out a small moan as she put the hose in her mouth. At first, the taste of rubber was not to her liking, but after years and years it was something she always yearned for. Her body bubbled with anticipation and greed. She abscent-mindedly rub the dome of her expansive waist. Bigger, she thought. Much bigger.
The rest of the boutique gathered around the two balloons. [Describe some of the members, maybe some of the ones at the beginning.] The staff members stood beside the two ladies, their hands on the valves, awaiting a signal from them.
Ruth narrowed her eyes to Mirelle, as she did the same, smirking through the hose in her mouth. I'm going to best you, her eyes said. You're going to pop like the tacky balloon that you are. That sent Ruth aflame.
With a nod from the two, the staff members undid the valves and the twin hisses of air sprung to life. The two ladies gave a moan as the air filled their cheeks, forcing them to swallow it. They each cradled and rubbed their expansive guts, feeling them getting slowly get fuller. Still, through their air-induced lust, they kept eyes on each other to psyche the other one out. [Maybe they wouldn't even cradle or rub their bellies. Perhaps they would just keep each others eyes on one another.]
Inch by inch, they swelled. There were small gasps and murmurs of wonder. Some people were surprised either of the two could get any larger than they already had been, while others simply drank in the growth. However, everyone could feel the power coming off of the two.
Ruth could feel her dress losing its elasticity, as she to look as if she were carrying twins. While it was a very nice dress, and rather expensive, she enjoyed ruining them. It would also look like a nice power move against Mirelle. Regardless, Mirelle was more than holding her own, as her expansion was keeping inch for inch with Ruth's own.
The crowd stilled watched with rapt attention, daring not to taking their eyes off of either of them. [What are the people in the crowd doing?]
Ruth could feel her hips and thighs ballooning out even more. With her belly growing, she had to adopt a wider stance. She could feel her stockings giving away, as rips were echoing across the Boutique. She swore she could hear someone nearly cumming their pants. That was her prickle in glee.
Mirelle narrowed her eyes at her, as if to judge her how tacky she was to do that. She was more practical, as she was known to wear articles of clothing that was designed to truly stretch. "A balloon must be properly attired," she would tell her sycophants. Ruth scoffed at such modesty. A balloon was meant to be see, in all of its glory - especially in the nude.
It wasn't before long her dress was tearing a part at the bellybutton, as both of their bellies looked past any normal pregnancy. Her breasts were billowing out, as her lace bra was peeking out from the top of her dress. The murmuring was becoming much more lively as more of Ruth could be seen. She delighted in it. She should really give a show in this Contest of Size.
As her dress and stockings tore more and more, she could feel the air fill out more parts of her body, and it looked as if the same could be said about Mirelle. As much as they had to adjust their stances, their bellies were flaring out at the sides as they were beginning to look more like spheres. Their limbs were taking on a much more conical shape, though their breasts and asses were still very much shapely.
The hem of her dress, too, was beginning to life up - and tear in some places, especially around the ass - as her lace underwear was being shown to the rest of the boutique.
Ruth could see a few twitches of discomfort on Mirelle's face. As long as she had known her, she had never truly seen her grow to such a size. However, Mirelle kept a stoic mask, though others must have noticed this change in attitude, as hushed "burstings" and "she's going to pop" could be heard like a spectre. Still, in her glory, this was surpassing how big Ruth would normally get. A little seed of worry was planting in her head.
Still, the two grew, and as the two were becoming spheres - wide as they were tall - Ruth's lace bra snapped clean in two, as her breasts - which were each now the size of heads of three people. She couldn't help herself as she gave a muffled cry of lust. The murmurs picked up even more, more cries of delight.
Ruth tried not to fall into the taut lust of it all, but she couldn't help it. She pictured the other members of the boutique coming up to her and rubbing her every inch of her, praising what a great balloon she was, as she swelled. A blimp, a zepplin. How they knew what a blimp-goddess she was. She was feeling tighter, tighter than she ever had, and she knew this was the biggest she had ever been.
Or the smallest I'll ever be again, a small voice in her head spoke.
Yes, she thought. She remembered how petite she was when she entered the club, how petite she would be when she did her nightly ritual. I can't go back to that, she thought. Never go back to such a insignificant size. It would be demeaning, humiliating.
Her loss of mobility was trivial in comparison. She would easily find someone here that would roll her, several people, in fact. They could roll her down the streets, as people would turn their heads and gawk at her, never before seeing a woman that was more balloon than person. There would be news channels and internet forums that would spring up from her. People who would flock to her just to see her, people would worship her, they would--
"Stop!" [How could she cry stop if the hose is in her mouth? Perhaps the hoses should be up their butts?]
Torn from her thoughts, she saw Mirelle's face, red and looking as if she were about to burst. Her dress was looking transluscent across her huge body, her limbs sunk in to her spherical form, her body up to her chin. One of the staff members rushed on over and twisted the valve close. Mirelle panted and groaned, most likely unable to even make a coherent sentence.
There was a moment of silence, then someone declared "Ruth Altman truly is the queen of size! She truly is the biggest balloon of the boutique!" The crowd cheered and clapped.
But still, she grew, and grew. There were some nervous twitters from the cheering, as it died down, people were backing away. The biggest? She thought. You haven't seen big yet. I will get bigger. Bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and--
Does anyone who likes inflation, and are okay with me sketching them, have photos of themselves puffing out their cheeks? I want to try some closeup inflation sketches
Odd ask, but does anyone have any morphs they'd be okay with me sketching? I don't have to share them in my blog, I just want to do some studies on absurd sizes
If you're comfortable with me using your photos for sketching references like these ones, please let me know! I'm always happy to draw new people and new bellies!
If you're comfortable with me using your photos for sketching references like these ones, please let me know! I'm always happy to draw new people and new bellies 👀
If you're comfortable with me using your photos for sketching references like these ones, please let me know! I'm always happy to draw new people and new bellies 👀
Quick color comparison of living vs. dead skin colors on Brown and Black skin. This only has 4 colors but the technique is still applicable to any color.
(The colors are exaggerated to show the contrast as well.)
Written text says: (Left) "yay! This character is alive!" (Right) "This one is not"
Instead of the usual warm tone brown skin has, to make it seem dead I opt for a greyish-blue. Take the color you'd use for when they're alive, add a grey/blue toned overlay, and voila!! The result should still be brown, just duller.
To make an overlay, select the color of the skin and then add a new layer. On that layer, color over the selected area with the cool tone. Lower the opacity until it looks how you like. This might differ depending on the software you use, but I use Ibis Paint x.
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