Chapter 2 - some extra executive

Before I knew it, I had nervously eaten my way into a new dress size. Then another. Then another after that. I started wearing a girdle to keep my belly from pressing up against my buttons. I saw more and more of my male coworkers staring at my growing rear and cleavage. It wasn't so bad. With the exception of my chubby years in college, I had always been kind of a stick. I wouldn't have minded the extra curves if I didn't know where they were heading.

A year after my promotion, I had ballooned up from 115 to 152. I was the fattest I had ever been, which stressed me out even more. My growing insecurity about my body only made me even bigger. It was a self-defeating cycle that showed no sign of ending. I wasn't even that worried about the job anymore. I got an A on my yearly review and worked really well with all the people I worked with. It was just my figure that was bothering me.

One day, I overheard a couple guys talking in the lounge area about the hottest girls in the office. Immature, but I couldn't help but eavesdrop. A lot of names were mentioned as I listened on from behind the corner. Most of them young secretaries or interns. When my name came up, one of them said "Mandy would be really hot if she dropped a couple pounds". All the men in the room agreed, with one even adding "More like a couple dozen".

I was devastated and ran back to my office, quickly digging my hand into my secret chocolate stash before anyone could see me. I glutted myself on sweets until I felt better, having to undo my skirt in the process to let my belly breathe. From that point on, I started going really downhill.

My work was still impeccable, but I'd stuff myself silly in my office every night, eating a whole pizza and garlic knots until I was beached on the couch with my gut hanging out, shining from the grease my hands would leave on it as I rubbed it's swollen surface.

Before I knew it, I had crossed the threshold from chubby to downright fat. My arms were thick and my face was pudgy, a second chin coming into place along my jawline as my neck grew in circumference. My boobs were huge, like overripe honeydew that bounced around in my often too-right bras. My thighs were meaty, like glazed hams slapping against each other, the gap between them vanishing like ice cream down my gullet. My butt bubbles out behind me and swung with my hips like beach water lapping up across the sand on shore.

Worst of it was my belly; the root of all my problems. Only made sense that the gluttonous organ of my stomach was housed within a jelly-filled container like my gut. Pale and dome-like, my chunky fingers sank into the yielding flesh whenever I touched it. It was so soft that it almost didn't feel like a party of the human anatomy. More like lightly-cooked dough; cooked enough to be warm, but not enough for it to harden.

Even though I loved food, I hated being fat. The sight of my blubbery body disgusted me. I would've given anything to get rid of it. Didn't help that all the attention was being directed to a new intern who worked for me.