Chapter 3 - on the moon part 1

I remember that first night so fondly.

I didn't when I first woke up.

I recall shooting awake and my room being so dark that, for a moment, I thought I was back in the dungeon. I looked around wildly for my mistress until my eyes adjusted and I realized I was back in my small, one-bedroom apartment with my alarm clock blaring.

I remember turning it off with a sigh of relief, happy to be back to reality. I turned and placed my feet on the floor, trying to ground myself in a very literal sense. I wove my fingers through my soft sheets and took a deep breath. My hand then found itself at my midsection, as if checking that there wasn't a corset there and a smile flinted on my face when I found nothing but my old, worn-out, college t-shirt.

Memory tells me, however, that I felt something I didn't quite expect. My stomach was... tight. As if I had just finished a huge meal. It was a feeling I only felt on Thanksgiving or Christmas or some other large, food-based celebration. I, however, choose at the time to overlook this. It was just a dream, after all; I couldn't have actually ingested what I had in my sleep.

I spent the rest of that first day trying to push that dream from my mind. I went to work, saw clients, pushed through claims, had a small salad for lunch (blushing as I did, as if I felt I was giving something away), went home, headed to yoga, made soup for dinner (more blushing, even though I had eaten alone in my apartment), and crawled into bed. The whole time, I was thinking about her. If not about her, I was thinking about how to not think about her. I tried to forget, I tried to move on, I tried to ignore the fact that I had never felt so... so.... amazing ever before...

But there was no ignoring my pants this morning.

I leaned back on my bed, trying to get as flat as possible, tugging on the two sides of my nice slacks. The sides were just touching, but the button was not at all interested in going into its hole.

I gave up with a grunt, letting the air back into my stomach. It jutted forward, pushing the pant opening aside like it was proud of its work, like it had parted the red seas and wanted the world to see.

Ten pounds, TEN POUNDS, in a month. A month of salads and yoga and saying no to that one last drink. And yet, my flat midsection had slowly but surely rose like fresh dough did with yeast. In fact, dough might be exactly what my stomach was starting to resemble. What once was firm was now soft and fleshy. I put a hand over my belly button and made indents by pressing my fingers into what lay below.

What was I going to wear to work? This was my last pair of pants that fit. How did this happen? I had been so good with every meal. Except for the ones in my...

I shook my head, but it was too late. Thoughts of my mistress filled my mind and I felt a heat rise between my legs. I fought it down by scoffing at myself. They were still dreams. No matter how enticing, no matter how fulfilling, no matter how much I looked forward to falling into bed each night...

I sighed and sat up, my stomach now was a bulge that rested before me. I patted it absentmindedly as I decided yoga pants would have to do. They were black, after all, maybe no one would notice. I didn't have any meetings today, I would just sit at my desk and no one would be the wiser. I could stop by the mall on my way home and pick up a pair of bigger pants and make an even smaller salad today to ensure I'd fit back into this pair in no time.

~*~*~*~

"Jess...? Jess...? Jessica, hello!"

"Hmm?" I blinked and looked up to find my manager at my desk. I blushed as I realized she had caught me staring out the window of my office, envisioning last night's escapades in my mind. I knew she couldn't see me in my corset and panties, each limb chained to a different post of the bed, blind folded as my mistress ran her delectable bits of fudge over my skin making it tingle before placing it in my open, waiting, needing mouth.... But I was flustered all the same.

"The Schuman file."

"Yes, what about it?" I asked, biting my lip. And then my mind flashed back again. The bed slightly dipping as my mistress straddled my exposed midsection, me completely at her mercy. The feeling of knowing she was leaning slowly over me, the warmth of her body coming closer to mine. My head lowered as her hands leaned down on either side of it. Her teeth nibbled at my arms, my chest, my neck, as if inspecting my now thicker, softer skin with her pearly whites, giving me goosebumps and shivers of anticipation as she went...

"Where is it?"

I swallowed, again back in reality. "R... right here, Miss. I mean, Miranda." I blushed harder as I dug into my desk and fished out the file. I was lucky, I had worked on that one earlier today, one of the few...

I handed it to her and she glared. I knew she was probably stewing about the fact that I had called her Miss... This wasn't a particularly formal office. I had never used the term with her before.

She thumbed through it and I thought I saw a flash of disappointment that it was in order.

"Thank you. But Jess, I feel as though you have been a little... *off* this week. In fact, the past two weeks. We expect a certain standard here at McKinnon and Co.; I don't want to hear of it slipping under your watch."

"Of course not. I'll be sure to stay diligent. Thanks for letting me know your concern."

She eyed me. "Well, have a nice evening, Jess." And she was gone.

I breathed a sigh of relief before looking giddily at the clock. It was just passed 5:30 and time for me to take off.

I grabbed my bag and was in the elevator in less than a minute. Once it fell its five stories, I was out like a flash towards the parking lot. I noticed I was breathing a little heavier than usual as I unlocked my car, but I chocked it up to not doing much cardio.

I remembered I had to stop by the mall and went straight there, eager to get home and get some much needed shut eye. After all, the sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I would see her...

I stepped into Nordstrom's when I saw they had a sale going on. I moved quickly through the aisles, scanning for professional pants. When I found some, I chose a grey pair figuring those were universal enough. I was just going to grab the size 6, figuring that could handle my now over 130 pounds, but something made me hesitate. My hand hovered over the size 8s. I was aghast at the thought of needing them. But aghast wasn't quite the right word... Somewhere, deep somewhere, but a place that was growing more... shallow by the day, was... excited.

I grabbed the 8s.

In the dressing room, I found myself grunting to get the 6s on. Sure, they buttoned, but I knew sitting in them at work all day wasn't going to be exactly comfortable. I shuttered in embarrassment as I imagined unbuttoning them at my desk to get some relief, not sure if I could handle the shame of having to do that at the office. My old 4s had at least stretched some as I slowly grew; brand new 6s would probably be too strong to be so flexible. The 8s, however, seemed to be exactly what I needed. They were comfortable and gave my girth the room it seemed to want at the moment.

Again, I found myself blushing as I handed the dreaded (though not as dreaded as I would have expected) 8s to the probably size 0 cashier. She popped her gum at me and gave me a look as if I was seriously disturbing her precious "glare angrily at the wall" time. I smiled as she handed me the bag with my purchase and I let her get back to giving the cement blocks the stink eye.

As I once again entered the cool evening air, I felt my cell phone buzz in my back pocket.

'We're here! Saving a seat for you!'

Shit. I had been looking forward to an evening alone and an early bed time, but I had promised my friends I'd meet them at the bar tonight to enjoy a bluegrass band and had already bailed on them enough times this month that I'd feel like a total piece of garbage if I didn't make an appearance.

'Thanks! C ya!' I responded, glad I didn't yet have to fake the enthusiasm explanation points suggested in person.

~*~*~*~

"Jess! There you are!" Heather jumped up from the table as I approached. She bounced up, her shoulder-length blond hair swishing back and forth, and buried me a bear hug.

I half-heartedly returned the hug. "Good to see you."

"Work must really be keeping you busy, you're so hard to get out these days!"

"Naw, it's really just... I haven't been feeling myself - er - *well,* I should say. A cold or something." I smiled to try to show that it was all on the up and up. Heather kept her huge smile, but one of her eyebrows went up letting me know she hadn't accepted this explanation. She didn't press, however, and she let me pass to the table.

We were in a pretty nice spot; we had a great view of the stage but were back far enough to ensure privacy in our conversations. The bar had dancing space up front for the livelier bunches but my group was happy to watch those bunches make fools of themselves from a distance.

"Jess, how about a Moscow Mule? I'm buying this round!" Trevor smiled at me, naming my typical cocktail of choice.

"Just water is fine. I might get something later." Trevor made eye contact with Heather who then shared a glance with Chad who raised an eyebrow to Trish; They were all always very subtle about their thoughts. "The cold, still recovering. So..."

"Sure," Trevor said less confidently but keeping his smile. "We're just so thrilled you're here."