Chapter 4. Consequences

With how increasingly tight and skimpy my outfits were becoming, I suppose it was a matter of when and not if I would eventually be pulled into a meeting with HR.

"This is, err, a rather sensitive and private matter," was what the poor HR rep who had undoubtedly chosen the short straw said to me. I stifled a laugh and decided to toy with him for as long as I could get away with it.

"Whatever do you mean? Is everything alright?" I simpered, giving him my biggest doe eyes and squishing my breasts together to give him an eyeful of my ample cleavage. He had trouble tearing his eyes away from my breasts. He was tomato-red already - this was too easy.

"Well, um, you see, er," he stuttered.

"Take all the time you need, Lloyd," I soothed, sweet as honey. This only seemed to make him more agitated.

"You see, um, we've been getting complaints, er, about, uhhhh, your, er, um..." He trailed off, then coughed. "Wardrobe choices."

"Pardon, what was that? Can you repeat that for me please?" I inquired with a polite smile. I cocked my head for added effect: the picture of innocence.

He somehow turned even more red than he had before, now truly resembling a fire hydrant with his white tie enhancing the imagery.

"Your wardrobe choices," he repeated a bit louder, his voice shaking a bit, "we have gotten complaints that they are, erm, not, uh, appropriate."

I frowned and cast my eyes down. I pretended to assess my outfit with fresh eyes. I was soaking wet already in this moment, relishing Lloyd's discomfort and the power my flabby body had over him and it seems, many other people in the office. My arousal intensified as I stared at my chubby calves, my thighs that were touching each other and spreading out to occupy the whole seat. My skirt was so tight around my ass, I knew that when I stood the view from the back had crossed the border into obscene territory. I took my belly in my hands - it had been pooling over my skirt to rest on my meaty thighs - and gave it a shake. Just once, up and down. Above it, my breasts wobbled. I felt a rush of wetness in my underwear as I realized that if I played with my belly a little longer and harder, I could make my breasts fall right out of my bra and spill out of the dress shirt that had become too small many sizes ago. Lloyd pretended that he was adjusting his tie, but it wasn't believable.

"Lloyd, are you trying to tell me I've gotten so fat it's unbearable for our co-workers to look at me in this clothes?" My voice went quiet, and I allowed just a taste of danger to flavour it. He went pale, looking helpless and a little faint.

"Of course not, that would be a massively disrespectful sentiment to insinuate," he hedged. "It's just, typically for work we don't encourage clothing to be so, uh, tight, and, er, showing, um, so much skin."

"I understand," I conjured up tears to glimmer in my eyes as I looked back up at him. I allowed my chin to quiver a little bit, as if I were moments away from dissolving into tears. "I'll buy new clothes. I guess I've just been in denial for too long."

“Look, I’m sorry,” his face softened, “I know this is embarrassing and uncomfortable. I wish we weren’t here right now having this conversation. But hey, we’ve all been there. Who hasn’t put on a couple of pounds here and there?” He paused and gulped. The next words came out of his mouth all in a rush, like he needed to tell me before he lost his courage. “For what it’s worth, I think you look amazing.”

This confirmed what I had already suspected: he was as turned on by this as I was. It felt good to have an ally, but this meeting had fulfilled its purpose of serving as a wake-up call. Moving forward, I was going to need to be more careful. And, a shopping spree was long overdue.