Stress Leave to Ssbw Star

Chapter 1

The sound of the doorbell shattered the silence of the apartment, and Jenna’s heart skipped a beat. She waddled from the couch, her breath already labored from the mere effort of standing. The soft jiggle of her thighs, the way her belly swayed with each step, sent a shiver of pleasure through her. She hadn’t always been like this. Three months ago, she’d been 250 pounds—already heavy, sure, but nothing like the soft mountain she’d become.

The delivery guy handed over the bags of takeout, his eyes lingering on her for a moment too long. She could see it—the judgment, the subtle curl of his lip. Good. She loved that look. It made her feel alive, powerful in a way she couldn’t explain. She tipped him generously, just to twist the knife a little, and closed the door with a smirk.

The scent of greasy burgers, fries, and a milkshake thick enough to stand a spoon in filled the room. She collapsed onto the couch, the cushions sinking under her weight, and tore into the first bag. The first bite of the burger was a revelation—juicy, fatty, decadent. She moaned softly, her free hand drifting down to the swell of her belly.

She’d started stress eating after her promotion. The pressure, the deadlines, the endless meetings—it had all been too much. At first, it was just a few extra snacks here and there. Then it became full meals, then multiple meals in one sitting. She’d told herself she’d stop, that she’d get control of it. But the taste of food, the way it made her feel... it was too good to resist.

Now, she’d doubled her weight. Her body was a map of stretch marks, her thighs so thick they rubbed together with every step, her belly so heavy it rested on her lap when she sat. And she adored it. Every inch of her, every soft, jiggly roll, felt like a badge of honor. She’d never felt sexier, more alive.

She finished the burger and moved on to the fries, her fingers slick with grease. She ate with abandon, shoving handfuls into her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. The milkshake was next, and she slurped it down eagerly, the cold sweetness a perfect contrast to the salty fries.

As she ate, her hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her too-tight leggings. Her fingers traced the folds of her belly, the softness of her thighs, and she gasped at the sensation. She was wet, her arousal spiking with every bite, every touch.

She’d started masturbating like this weeks ago, the first time she’d caught herself admiring her reflection in the mirror. She’d been horrified at first, ashamed of what she’d become. But then she’d touched herself, and it had felt so good. The weight, the softness, the way her body jiggled with every movement—it was like a drug, and she was addicted.

Her fingers slipped between her legs, and she moaned around a mouthful of fries. She was so wet, so ready. She imagined the delivery guy’s face, the way he’d looked at her with disgust and fascination. She imagined her coworkers, their whispers, their laughter. The thought of it made her clench, her fingers moving faster, harder.

She was close, so close. She could feel it building, the heat spreading through her body, the tension coiling in her belly. She shoved another handful of fries into her mouth, her fingers working furiously, and then she was there, there—

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She collapsed back against the couch, spent, her hand still resting between her legs. She smiled lazily, her eyes drifting shut.

She’d called in sick again today. She’d told them it was stress, that she needed more time. They’d agreed, extending her leave to six months. Good. She needed more time. More time to eat, to grow, to indulge.

The thought of it sent a shiver of excitement through her. She’d already gained 100 pounds in three months. What could she do in six? She imagined herself even bigger, even softer, her body spilling out of chairs, her clothes straining to contain her. The thought made her wet again, her fingers twitching where they rested.

But first, there was still food to eat. She reached for the second burger, her smile widening as she took the first bite. This was her life now, and she loved it.

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Three months later, Jenna stood in front of the mirror, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of herself. She’d done it. She’d reached 500 pounds. Her body was a masterpiece, a soft, jiggling mass of fat that barely resembled the woman she’d once been. Her belly hung low, the stretch marks more pronounced than ever. Her thighs were so thick they touched from hip to knee, her arms heavy with flab. And her face—her face—was round, her cheeks plump, her chin doubled.

She couldn’t stop staring. She was beautiful.

She’d tried on her old work clothes that morning, just to see if they’d fit. They hadn’t. Not even close. The blouse had ripped when she’d tried to button it, the skirt hadn’t made it past her thighs. She’d chuckled at the sight, her arousal spiking as she’d run her hands over her soft, exposed flesh.

Now, she was back at work, and it was worse than she’d imagined. The stares, the whispers, the laughter—it was everywhere. She’d tried to sit in her office chair, but her hips hadn’t fit, the armrests digging into her sides. She’d had to stand in the corner instead, her face burning with humiliation.

But it wasn’t just humiliation. There was something else there, something darker, hotter. The way they looked at her, the way they talked about her—it made her wet, her arousal building with every word.

She’d excused herself to the bathroom, her legs trembling as she waddled down the hall. She’d locked the door, her fingers already sliding beneath her skirt. She was so wet, her panties soaked through. She imagined their faces, their laughter, their disgust, and she moaned softly, her fingers moving faster.

She was close, so close. The thought of them, the way they’d looked at her, the way they’d talked about her—it was too much. She bit her lip, stifling a cry as her orgasm hit her, her body trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She collapsed against the sink, spent, her heart pounding in her chest. She was a mess, but she didn’t care. She loved it. She loved being the fat, helpless glutton they all despised. It made her feel powerful in a way nothing else ever had.

She straightened up, smoothing her skirt as best she could, and headed back to her office. They were still laughing, their voices carrying down the hall. She smiled faintly, her arousal already building again.

She couldn’t wait to see what they’d say next.