INTRODUCTION:

In this epoch of double-anal and bukkake, it's nice to know that something as innocuous as a balloon can still get someone hard. But what is it about these seemingly mundane party decorations that make certain fetishists pop boners? Is it the inflating, squeezing, sitting, humping or popping? Maybe it's just the smell and texture of rubber.
    Assuming you don't have a latex allergy, balloons seem like a relatively low-maintenance fetish. You don't need special equipment, costumes or wee-wee pads. You don't really even need a partner; all your supplies can be procured at the neighborhood ninety-nine-cent store. Given my propensity for being a loner — and my bohemian budget — balloons could be the perfect fetish for me.
    But could I really take to it overnight? I've always regarded balloons as nothing more than colorful pieces of latex that evil clowns occasionally fashion into animal shapes. Would I ever be able to see them as something more? There was one clear way to find out: For one night I would party amongst "looners," the men and women who view balloons as erotically charged entities.


Materials:
Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

- One fabulous outfit
- One looner-laden balloon fetish event
- Balloons (provided at the event), including one giant green balloon (also provided at the event)

Method:
In this portion of your report, you must describe, step-by-step, what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.

    I began my research online by Googling the words "balloon fetish." Several links to websites appeared, along with one link to Balloon Farm, a 1999 film starring Rip Torn. Most of the sites comprised relatively softcore material featuring pretty young women blowing up, squeezing and sitting on balloons. Many presented warnings before "popping content" was displayed. Herein, I learned of the two distinct looner categories — poppers and non-poppers. Poppers obviously dig popping, and non-poppers are more aroused by the inflated balloon in all its glory.
    I asked friends if they knew anything about looners.
    "Oh, yeah, I saw that once on HBO," said my friend Amy.
   "Wow, they probably worship the Michelin Man," said my friend Mark, incredulous.
    My friend John theorized that the entire fetish originated with a Superfriends episode titled "The Balloon People."
    Everyone I spoke to either had no information or had never heard of a balloon fetish.
   I continued my quest for knowledge online, where I searched for balloon-fetish activities in the greater metropolitan area. After stumbling upon a New York City fetish calendar, I noticed a balloon party scheduled for that very weekend. It was listed as part of the Baroness' Fetish Retinue, a monthly party held at an East Village bar. This wasn't the first time I'd heard of the Retinue. The previous month, my friends Erin and Orion had naively and drunkenly wandered in, whereupon

With the Baroness

the Baroness whipped Erin's ass until it was redder and more swollen than a Hamadryas baboon's in heat.
    I e-mailed the Baroness, requesting more information about the balloon party, specifically whether there was a dress code. Do people dress in balloons?, I wondered. The last thing I wanted was to be ostracized for dressing inappropriately.
    The following day, the Baroness returned my email. She explained that partygoers sometimes climbed inside of balloons. There would also be balloon bondage and anything else she could come up with. "As far as a dress code," she shared, "the price of admission depends on what you wear — it's free if you're fabulous, $5 in fetish, $15 in all black, and $20 in streetwear. If you were to come covered in balloons, the door bitch might think you were fabulous. But she's very particular."
    I called my friend, Claudia, a lawyer and uptown girl who rarely gets to engage in anything truly deviant. "Do you want to go to a balloon fetish party with me tomorrow night?" I inquired.
    "Balloon fetish?" she repeated.
    "People get off on blowing up balloons and popping them, and that kind of thing. It'll be fun."
    "It's not going to be an orgy or anything?"
    "No. It's very G-rated. It's balloons."
    "Okay, I'll go. But I'll meet you beforehand. I'm not going alone."
    I invited a few other friends, including Erin, who'd developed a bit of a crush on the Baroness since her savage beating.
    On Sunday night, I donned my thigh-high gold boots, a powder-blue minidress and eyelashes the size of caterpillars, hoping the door bitch would deem me fabulous. Upon our arrival, Claudia and I were surprised to find that the door bitch was not the six-foot-tall drag queen we'd expected, but a tiny man with a brazen stare. Nevertheless, we were proclaimed fabulous and granted admittance.
    "Looks like a swingin' sausage party," I said, surveying the overwhelming ratio of men to women. A guy with a luscious mane of ass hair sauntered by in a thong. Another man with long blonde hair had gone the opposite route: he wore a full-body PVC catsuit.
    "How do you get into that?" I asked him.
    "Two ways — you can soak it in water, or you can use baby powder."
    "Looks good," I told him, glancing around the room.
    People who looked like they'd just left their temp jobs mingled with people who looked like they'd spent hours getting ready. Latex was the overwhelming fashion choice. A green balloon floated in front of us, and Claudia joyfully stomped on it. A man blowing up a balloon in the corner shot us a nasty look, while another man sighed, "You can do that again." Clearly, there was tension between poppers and non-poppers. Would there be a dance-off? Already things were exciting. I whipped out my notepad.
    A bespectacled, preppy looking man approached us and introduced himself as Clay.
   "How did you find out about this?" Claudia asked him.
    "I'm on an email list for this fetish," he replied.
    Thrilled to meet an actual looner, I asked, "Is it the balloons themselves? Or is it the pretty girls blowing them up? Or is it the pretty girls popping them?"
    "Well, I'm not really into the popping. Some people are all about the popping. They're just like, 'Blow it up and pop it already, damn it!' But I'm more into the sensual aspects of it — the way it feels when it's inflated. I still like sex, and I still like women. Balloons just add a little something extra."
    "Do you think I'm dressed appropriately?" I asked.
    "Well, you could have dressed as a balloon deliverywoman," he suggested.
    Our chat was interrupted by a commotion at the door. Erin and Orion, both covered from head to toe in balloons, were arguing with the door bitch.
    "What's wrong?" I asked, coming to their aid.
    "He says we're not in fetish gear," Erin moaned. "He wants to charge us twenty bucks apiece!"
    "They're totally in fetish gear," said Clay. The door bitch just shook his head. Apparently, to him, only latex and leather qualified. The possibility of a new genre threw him for a loop.
    Defeated, Erin and Orion walked out. "We're gonna go to Benny's Burritos and see what happens," they said. The door bitch magically had a change of heart and let them in for ten. Once inside, they began to hug everyone in the room.
    "Wow, there are a lot of pant-tents being pitched right now," I whispered to Claudia.
    As I mingled with the crowd, I collected email addresses from people who claimed to be looners.

The air hose detached. The balloon started shrinking around me. I was going to experience the most ridiculous death ever.

Several were happy to share their insights with me. I learned that most balloon fetishists enjoyed playing with balloons before they were consciously sexual. Some feared the popping noise but later eroticized it. One looner told me he was influenced by the early-'70s game show Beat the Clock, which featured leggy models performing stunts that involved balloons. It wasn't too hard to see how a young mind could make the connection.
    The Baroness finally arrived, looking stunning in a reddish-brown latex dress of her own design. She announced that the party had officially started, then beckoned Erin to the stage, where she wordlessly instructed her to stand in the corner and produced a whip. Then, like Legolas slaying Orcs with his arrow, the Baroness deftly obliterated each balloon on Erin's body until there was nothing left but stubs of torn latex dangling from safety pins.
    Once both Erin and Orion had been stripped of their balloons, a balloon-oriented performance began. It involved a woman with vampire fangs clad in a salmon-colored latex catsuit, a man drinking a martini and a pigtailed woman in a schoolgirl outfit being bound at her wrists and ankles by long balloons. The plot had something to do with a lost pet, and the martini-drinking man made the fanged woman a balloon dog — not an easy task. There's a reason clown college is harder to get into than Harvard.
    The Baroness soon informed me that the giant balloons were going to be blown up shortly, and I was slated to go second.
    "Rev., what if it deflates and you start to suffocate?" fretted Claudia.
    I hadn't thought about the actual physics of it.
    "That would be the coolest way to die ever!" Erin exclaimed.
    "It would make the cover of the Post, that's for sure," I mused. "My poor parents would be so humiliated. I wish there were EMTs on hand."
    "I'll get a knife, so I can cut you out if I have to," said Claudia, looking around the room for a weapon.
    "Just use your keys," I said, feeling my knees quiver like a deep-sea diver's.
    Onstage, the balloon operator, a burlesque performance artist named BALLOONHEDZ, was making preparations. Apparently putting people in balloons takes more planning than a space-shuttle launch. The stage was thoroughly dusted, and a gray blanket was laid across the floor to ensure that no antimatter would burst the balloon. As the expectant crowd gathered around, a giant shop-vac hose was wheeled onstage.

Observations/Results:
Quantify the effects of the experiment.

    Nena's "Ninety-Nine Red Balloons" played as BALLOONHEDZ began to inflate the first giant balloon. Appropriately enough, it was red. I climbed onstage and watched up close as Amalie, a "balloonaut" clad in a fierce latex minidress, prepared to dive in.
    "Put your hands in front of your face and make a point," the Baroness coached from the sidelines. BALLONHEDZ then removed the shop vac hose from the balloon, revealing an opening the size of a rabbit hole, which Amalie was to squeeze into. Physically, it seemed about as possible as squeezing toothpaste back into the tube. "Go! Go! Go!" the audience cheered as the Baroness gave Amalie a shove. But just as soon as Amalie's body disappeared into the balloon, the whole thing popped, and the aspiring balloonaut lay awkwardly in a pool of deflated latex. The audience sighed with disappointment.
    I was next. My nerves rattled. I felt like a contestant on Fear Factor who was about to eat a maggot-filled donut. "Take notes," I said, handing my pen and notebook to Erin. "Orion, hold my purse. Claudia, have your keys ready. I'm goin' in!"
    A large, leather-clad guy who looked like the cartoon version of Batman introduced himself as Morpheus. He asked if I was nervous.
    "Yeah, I'm worried I'll pop it," I said, "Or that I won't, and it'll be claustrophobic and I'll freak out."
    "Don't be nervous. Just think of it as a soft, womblike experience."
    "How do I not pop it?"
    "The first girl popped it because she was wearing too many clothes."
    "Are you saying I should get naked?"
    "It'd be a lot easier."
    I approached the Baroness. "Morpheus suggested I get naked. I think it's a good idea."
    "We can't have you getting naked. That would be illegal, since we're in a bar," she said. "Although we could put black tape over your nipples." And with a deftness that would make MacGyver's head

spin, the Baroness produced a roll of electrical tape. I followed her to the corner of the stage, where she unzipped my dress while murmuring a steady stream of instructions. "You must remove your jewelry and your shoes — anything that could pop the balloon. It's very important that you make a point with your hands. I'll give you a shove when it's time."
    I pulled my dress off, revealing an embarrassing pair of turquoise $2 Kmart panties which would surely be ridiculed by the latex divas surrounding me. The Baroness applied four tiny pieces of tape to my now-erect magic wands, ensuring my teats would be legal should the boob squad arrive.
    I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I sang to myself, trying to channel the fearlessness of SpongeBob as I stepped in front of a massive green balloon. The crowd cheered. There was no turning back, no room for failure. I would dive in as though my life depended on it, like C-3PO leaping into an escape pod.
    I knew this would not look pretty. It is impossible to look poised when diving into a giant balloon, clad only in a pair of skivvies and electrical tape. I'm sure I looked like a complete jackass as I dove toward the hole. Yet somehow I wriggled in with relative ease.
    The inside of the balloon was much different than the outside. It was like being on the other side of the looking glass, a separate world. Sounds were muffled, and I was surrounded by bright green latex, which was growing larger by the second. The smell of rubber was overwhelming. I felt like I'd been miniaturized and dropped into an old-fashioned swim cap. I wasn't claustrophobic or scared, but I wasn't aroused either. Oceanic feelings overwhelmed me. I was serene and obscenely happy.
    Like most people who haven't spent years in primal-scream therapy, my memories of the womb are buried under multiple layers of song lyrics and useless trivia. But I imagine that being in the womb rocked. I am told that I stayed in the womb far past my delivery date and when I did emerge, I attempted to greet the world ass first. It was if I couldn't bear the thought of actually seeing what was out there. (It could have also been the result of my mother riding the Teacups at Enchanted Forest Amusement Park to induce labor, but that's another story entirely.) Hence, it is pure speculation when I say that I felt like an overgrown fetus relishing the simplicity of intrauterine existence.
    As the balloon stretched, it became less opaque, and the lights and people outside grew just barely visible. I began to wonder how long I could stay inside when, suddenly, the air hose became detached and the balloon started shrinking around me. Claudia was right: I was going to experience the most ridiculous death ever. But like Bowie's Major Tom, there was nothing I could do.
    I think I heard someone say, "Oh shit!" In a second, the hose was reintroduced into the balloon's hole, and it reinflated, this time larger than before.
    "Are you ready for some company?" a voice boomed from outside. "Make room."
    I backed up and watched as a lithe young man named Michael dove through the opening. Witnessing this reverse-birth from the inside was even stranger than it had seemed on the outside. First I saw his head, then his torso, and then his whole body appeared. What do you say to someone you barely know, with whom you're suddenly half-naked in a balloon? "How's it goin'?" I asked, taking his hand and helping him up like a tour guide on another planet. His smile indicated pure joy.
    He was now in on the secret — being inside a giant balloon is awesome. "Oh my God," he gasped.
    "Do you feel like you're in deep space?" I asked.
    "Yeah, this is amazing. I want to be naked too," he proclaimed, peeling off his latex trousers.
    "It's definitely nicer being naked in here," I said. Not that I'd ever been clothed in a balloon, but the latex felt velvety and stretchy against my skin.
    We stared at each other like we'd just climbed through a wardrobe and found Narnia. It was hard to believe the real world lay just outside the latex. We touched the balloon. We touched each other's hands. We knelt down, stood up and pressed ourselves against the latex. Finally, Michael said, "Kiss me, Rev. Jen! We're in a balloon!" and we shared a celebratory kiss that no one in the audience was privy to.
    Our peaceful floating continued for what seemed like hours, but was really only about five minutes. At that point, we were told to prepare for more company. There's not possibly enough room or oxygen for three people, I thought (although BALLOONHEDZ later told me he'd fit four women inside a balloon at once). We backed up and awaited the next visitor.
    The hole opened. Amalie, the first balloonaut, was making a second attempt. This time she managed to wriggle all the way in, but almost as soon as she had, the balloon popped and we became a crumpled heap of latex-covered losers. Like coming out of anesthesia, it was a quick jolt back to crude reality. We stood up, and the crowd cheered as though we'd just scored a gold medal. Orion handed me my purse, and Erin handed me my notebook, which contained exactly three indecipherable sentences. "We need to discuss this," she said.
    "Where are my clothes?" I asked.
    "I almost used my keys," Claudia gasped. "I was so close to busting you out of there."
    Once dressed, I went straight to the bar. I was no longer an overgrown fetus, and I needed a beer. The bartender presented me with a freebie as I sat down and took several deep breaths, relishing what little oxygen exists in crowded East Village bars. Around me, bacchanalia had erupted. Onstage, another overly dressed balloonaut had burst the last of the giant balloons. Morpheus had struck up a conversation with Claudia, who agreed to be spanked by his massive Batman arms. Two men had handcuffed Erin's wrists behind her back and were leading her around, feeding her sips of beer. "It's cool, man," she said, noticing my worried glance. "I'm getting a free drink out of this." Amalie was reclining on a sofa, having her toes sucked by a man in a thong. Three scantily clad women were onstage being tied to a giant phallic balloon and whipped by more balloons. The overabundance of balloons and half-dressed, heavily made-up revelers made me feel as if I were at an after-hours circus in which the clowns were finally allowed to cut loose. Even the door bitch was smiling.
   


Conclusion:
Summarize your findings. Don't forget to attempt to identify possible variables that could result in different findings for others trying to recreate your test results.

    I had been dispassionate about balloons at the beginning of my experiment, but I am now captivated by their most basic qualities. They are pliable, warm, soft, fun to pop and possessed of a scent that takes me back to my youth. While balloons may never rank next to my vibrator in the preferred-sex-toy department, I can't say I'll never bring them into the bedroom. The walls of the balloon felt great against my skin, and if I hadn't been so fixated on the psychological effect of being inside it, I might have become aroused. Maybe Michael and I would have gone to second base. If Amalie had managed to stay inside for more than a minute, maybe we all would have had a crazy balloon three-way. But as it was, my balloon experience did not incite me to pop a clit boner. The experience was so strange that sex was the last thing on my mind. Anyone who's tried screwing under the influence of LSD will know exactly what I'm talking about.
    The main variable in the experiment was whether or not the giant balloon popped upon my entry. Had it popped, the experience would have been disappointing and possibly humiliating. As it turned out, it was gratifying, albeit not necessarily erotic. I enjoyed the sensory deprivation element: because I could barely hear and see the outside world, nothing distracted me from tactile sensations. While I've toyed with sensory deprivation in the past (i.e. the occasional blindfold), don't be surprised if you see me next year sporting a latex mask with an air tube jutting out of it.


I Did It for Science appears monthly.
Photographs by Mark McQueen







©2005 Rev. Jen Miller and Nerve.com

Commentarium (32 Comments)

May 05 05 - 12:13am
twa

This was an awesome article. I want to try this.

May 05 05 - 12:14am
PJC

Ok Rev, you've done it again. I've got a major HARD-ON for you and only you can take it down. I don't care about the damn balloons. I just want you!!!
I'll bring one major balloon that you can play with.

May 04 05 - 4:56pm
KsZ

I agree with thx. This was one of the best IDIFS columns yet. Your willingness to strip down at the drop of a hat is a clear indication of your scientific acumen. Bravo!

May 04 05 - 5:33pm
DTA

Dear Rev. Jen -- You are clearly a good sport, and a lot more fun that the guy that did the Science thing last. However I am disappointed that there weren't more pictures of you in your underpants and tape. Whyever did you wear panties that you didn't think were cute to _any_ kind of fetish party??? [I suspect, however, that on you _any_ kind of panties are cute...].

May 04 05 - 10:56pm
rk

Wow, I never have viewed this blog before. Very intriguing. Here is my first foray into the blogging world; it's new, but I have been amazed at the hits:

http://whowilldietoday.blogspot.com/

May 05 05 - 12:21pm
wht

I dont know what makes a balloon fetish weird,I am partial to it cause women wearing tight white leggings,sitting on and or straddling a big,tight,red balloon just gets me rock hard.I really enjoyed reading all about your experience at the Barroness's fetish party.Sound like you sorta got into it a little.Try picking up some 16"uniques{brand of balloon}and blowing a few up really big and tight.Check out "The Balloon Salloon"down on Church st?Maybe w. bwdy,cant remember,used to drive down that way all the time...Just let your inner child out for a while and when you are good and ready,try masturbating on the knot.Having several blown up will cum in handy for the unexpected pop's!They might sting a little,but you will get into it,try playing around with them,lots of fun...
Take car,have fun and be safe...
whtspdx

May 08 05 - 10:58am
cyn

I wonder if BALLOONHEDZ is the same one who used to hang out on Nerve back when there was online chat. If so, I am glad he's found a place for his fetish.

May 25 05 - 10:50am
ES

Ah, Rev. Jen...elven consort to the gods, pocket-cutie extraordinaire, vision of fevered dream, seducing us all with your words and personality. What can I say--me a mere mortal carrying himself along on this heavy planet? Say, Nerve, pay this woman to write more columns please.

Jun 24 05 - 10:31am
bh

Balloonhedz here~
The Rev did a kickass job that night.
And cyn...yup. Its me. Though the schtick with the BIG balloon with people in them isnt fetish for me. Its just performance. Doesnt really do anything for me.

twa~
are you in the NYC area? There will most likely be other similar events hosted by The Baroness. If you wanna keep in touch we can probably arrange it somewhere down the line.

Aug 26 05 - 1:43pm
NMP

awesome experiment. it makes me want to climb inside a balloon

Sep 01 05 - 1:33pm
BH

NMP...its arrangeable

got an email address I can use?

Nov 26 05 - 4:05pm

in jeans sitting op balloon

Jan 08 06 - 1:39pm
JG

Dear Rev. Jen,
Thank you so much for trying to enlighten the world to our tiny fun filled fantasy! I enjoyed your article immencely! if you'd like much deeper insight please feel free to contact me via e mail at Cosmo4u@adelphia.net
We can chat some more and i can give you access to many different sites that will engross you instead of a standard profile of a fetishist!

With warmest regards, your balloon Buddy!

John
PS: I think your an exceptionally Beautiful lady!

Jul 23 06 - 3:58am
ARC

Just a little contribution to your research. I'm a man who loves fat women. And in the context of this preference I have a specific fetishy turn on to seeing a fat woman squeezing into tight clothes and especially through narrow doors or windows or other narrow passages. The "will she make it" suspense, the bulges and wriggling of her body, and the sounds of her voice all combine in a very erotic way to me.

What does this have to do with balloons? Well, having no girlfriend to experiment with in these things when I was a teenager, I got balloons instead and squeezed them through such narrow places. When I got my driver's license, I tracked down a store which sold giant balloons, and with a foot pump I blew them up in my room and would test out how big I could make them and still fit them through the door. So there's a bit of a crossover from one kink to another.

Aug 07 07 - 10:47pm
PFB

Great story! I like that you seem to write from a neutral, open-minded viewpoint, and am very glad that you actually seemed to have fun.

Feb 19 10 - 9:39pm
GeoM

Once surprised the parents with a weather balloon blown up in the living room from Edmund Scientific. I wish they'd stop trashing the oceans with them. Heh get a life weatherperson!

May 25 10 - 6:04am
Caterwaul

i love the way the whole party is described. this is kinda nerdy, but i want to draw comics of this kind of event.

May 31 10 - 7:29am
Name

What do you think?

Oct 01 10 - 4:16pm
serialcoder

Yes, sure, I like it, Interesting and educational. Please continue to write more interesting post in your website.

Jan 26 11 - 9:17am
WebMistress

I love your writing! fun to read - you took me right there into the whole night with you and your friends! good job!

Feb 08 11 - 9:50pm
Crack Makenna

Man, you wrote a long post.

Apr 19 11 - 4:59pm
clownballoon

Congrats for this article. I really love it. I'm a brazilian looner who try to discover more and more about it. I would like only to know the psychological issue involved on it. Here in Brazil it isn't so common to find other looners but I had to find more and more looners here.

Feel free to stay in touch and know more about this fetish around the world and in Brazil specifically.

Palhacinhoinflavel@yahoo.com.br

Loon Hugs for you

Your Brazilian Looner

Palhacinho Inflavel
(InflatableClown or ClownBalloon)

Apr 22 11 - 5:24am
www.nerve.com

Www nerve.. Very nice :)

Jun 02 11 - 10:18am
Morphius

Im slightly envious of Morpheus, even though everyone seems to think it was me >.<

Catch you on UKLooners

Aug 18 11 - 2:25am
Foodssourne

fs

Aug 22 11 - 10:52am
rtyecript

I really liked the article, and the very cool blog

Nov 17 11 - 7:27pm
Ignacio Carrig

Awsome blog! I’ve just shared it on the social networks.

Nov 23 11 - 5:40pm
uroxatral 40 mg

Betwixt twae stools the arse falls down.

Nov 24 11 - 5:46pm
Markus Bujarski

Hey! I’ve just stopped by to thank you for this cool information. Take care!

Jan 16 12 - 4:45pm
JC Fetish

If you are interested in balloon fetishes, you can check out my ebook. Read it for free or buy it for $0.99. :)
http://www.amazon.com/Blow-Me-Book-Fetishes-ebook/dp/B006YBQ2SS/

Mar 02 12 - 9:04pm
Mercurial Superfly I

On your latest edition ofMercurial Superfly III safari Football Weekly, James Richardson has the inglorious triumvirate of Barry mercurial SL Glendenning, Jacob Steinberg and Owen Gibson for company.

May 03 12 - 8:45pm
cleverusername

Has anyone read 50 Shades of Grey, the book about bondage and stuff? I figured since this was about fetishes it would be a good place to share an article I found on it: http://www.courant.com/news/opinion/hc-op-barreca-fifty-shades-op-grey-d...