“Whaddya mean it’s stuck?”

It was baffling to Jace how a simple car check-up led to this. She just had to have the sports coupe lowered on her for a second to “save time”, didn’t she? The Blaziken knew the car jack supporting the damn thing was rusty, but this…

“I’m telling you, the thing’s not moving up.” said Winslow sheepishly, eyes looking away from Jace. The gold-maned Zoroark was never good at giving bad news out, and this was certainly one of those times. “I’m pumping the lever as hard as I can.”

Jace cussed, quite loudly at that. As it stood, she could freely move her head, her hands and not much else. The rest of her was comfortably pinned by the gray vehicle that hung exceedingly low to the ground (as most pimped-out rides tended to do). Even with her fighting-type strength and impeccably toned abs, it was way too hard of a sell to consider getting herself out of her bind in this state.

“So what am I supposed to do? Wait for someone to come and fix the damn thing?” Jace was being brought to her limit in record time, fantasies of beating Winslow’s head in with his hair bead flowing through her mind as she watched the fox pace back and forth in anxious discomfort.

“Maybe?” squeaked Winslow. “At least I’m going to have to find someone who can work with a jack this old…”

That brought Jace over her limit. “I’m not waiting hours to get free!”

“Jace, it’s not going to be-”

“Don’t fucking start with me!” squawked Jace. “When you try to get help, I guaran-fucking-tee it’ll take hours. You fix this right now or you’re gonna be doing my job too from now on.”

Winslow put his yellow claws to his face, mumbling nervously to himself. Jace just grumbled as she stared daggers into the fox’s hide until at last Winslow spoke up.

“I-I have an idea.” he stuttered.

“What stupid idea?” replied Jace.

“Maybe it’s best if I just show you…” trailed Winslow as he walked deeper into the mechanical garage, leaving Jace to briefly fend for herself (and cuss bloody murder along the way). Soon Winslow was wheeling two things up to the Blaziken: a dolly, and a small air compressor.

Jace immediately made the connection, but that didn’t do anything to change her mood. “Unbelievable.” she muttered. “You seriously think it's a good idea to jack up the car with my belly?”

“Well…” shrugged Winslow, “it’s either this or we wait two hours for Manfred to come back and fix the jack.”

What followed was possibly the longest, throatiest sight that Winslow had ever heard come out of the Blaziken.

“Fine.” she said, blushing. “But don’t pretend I’m going to like it.”

Winslow got to work unfurling a hose from the side of the air compressor. Shoving it in Jace’s claws, she then rammed it unhappily into her mouth and just down her throat. Giving a sarcastic thumbs up, Jace rolled her eyes and tried to focus on what little good was about to come out of the Zoroark’s harebrained scheme. A quick button press from Winslow, and the compressor whirred to life, the start-up sequence just enough for Jace to briefly question her life choices for that day.

Phwoosh! A gigantic blast of air forced its way into Jace’s muzzle, filling her beak and puffing her cheeks out to the point that it looked like she was storing two apples in her maw. Giving in to the gas, Jace began to swallow, letting the airflow attack her throat as the hose quickly sank past her tongue. The liters of air hit her stomach instantly, filling it up in record time and swelling it into what would be a noticeable bulge in her crimson mechanic’s jumpsuit had the car not been in the way. It was as if her belly was a water balloon on a spigot cranked to max; what had been flat and muscular five seconds ago was now a curve the size of a basketball, filling out deeper, larger, fuller until her guts were pressing into the car frame directly above it.

Then the waiting game began. Jace could only pig out on air as her stomach expanded every which way but up, crawling along the underside of the coupe in an attempt to grow despite the odds. The Blaziken felt her limbs begin to bloat with gas as the air found other places to flow into first, giving the chicken the presence of a blow-up doll in overdrive. Her thighs and ass were developing into extra-large pieces of chicken corpulence, raising Jace up slightly and squishing her a degree tighter into the vehicle she was trapped under. It was all part of the plan, but that didn’t make the feeling any less awkward for her or her crotch.

*Just gotta keep increasing the pressure.* Thought Jace as she chugged air like her life depended on it. *Just lie back and ignore the world around me…*

Though it was getting harder and harder to ignore a certain pressure in her loins. Jace’s aggravation couldn’t hide the fact that she was like any other pokemon when it came to being blown up like a furry balloon. Already a damp patch was forming in her increasingly stretched jumpsuit, one that was only going to get wetter as she heard the sounds of various stitches breaking apart due to her bulk. Jace’s extended segue into being a SSBBW was only going to wreak further havoc on her libido as she continued to fill out, and the bird’s thoughts were becoming much more scattered as a result. So much so that she was even missing the beginning of the lift.

Like a living jack, Jace’s overfilled balloon belly was beginning to lift the car above her, winning inch by glorious inch as Winslow piled on the pressure. The car’s tires began to lift off the ground once again, the entire ride suspended in mid-air by the ballooning bird underneath it. With no time to waste, Winslow got the dolly out and wedged it underneath Jace’s back. Moving it back and forth, Jace slowly moved with the tool, getting precious inches in another direction as she was slid out from underneath the coupe.

With a dramatic *THUD*, the car they had been working on slammed back onto the ground, the rotund bird squeezed out from under it like a bar of soap. Winslow had freed Jace from her confines… for varying definitions of the word free. The Blaziken was obscenely bloated, clad in a jumpsuit that was clinging on for dear life and bloated up into a shape that brought to mind a novelty sumo costume. Her breasts, belly and thighs had more or less inflated into a generalized curve, giving the fighting-type a distinctly near-spherical shape. Her limbs still had some definition, though being the size of oil drums there wasn’t much chance she was going to have to use them. Jace was still stuck on her back for all of this, managing to look much like a living bounce house in her current, high-psi state.

“Winslow,” belched the bird as she spat out the air hose, “I have a huge favor to ask you.”

Winslow was very afraid as to what the favor could be. After all, he was nowhere near out of the woods yet. “Yeah, Jace?”

“Can you walk around to my clit and fuck me up? I have a lot of pressure to release down there.”

He didn’t waste a second to oblige her, patting the bird’s stomach as he stepped around the curve of her body. Just before he went down on her, though, he was very sternly interrupted:

“Oh, and don’t think I’m not going to beat the tar out of you once I deflate.”

The Zoroark groaned. Only he could get in trouble on a jack’s behalf.