The Boss’s Secret Perk

Chapter 1

Casey’s waistband dug into her softening belly again. She shifted in her seat, cheeks burning as the fabric of her once-loose pencil skirt stretched over the curve of her gut. Every bite she’d taken over the last few months… was showing.

And she knew exactly who to blame.

Mr. Caldwell. Her boss.

He’d started bringing her “treats” a few months back. First a muffin. Then lunch. Then dessert. Then two. Always accompanied by praise. Always with that low, velvet-smooth voice that made her thighs clench:

You deserve this.
Such a good girl for finishing it.
I love how you’re filling out.

At first, she’d brushed it off. Office culture. Perks. Morale-boosting.

But then came the catered breakfasts “just for her.” The full-fat lattes. The extra chair brought into her cubicle, just to hold snacks. And slowly, her once-slim frame softened. Her belly spilled into her lap. Her thighs spread. Her bra cut deep lines into her swelling chest.

And Ryan Caldwell watched it all with hungry eyes.

A new email pinged.
Subject: Time for your “performance review.”
Come to my office. And be hungry

Her breath hitched.

By the time she walked into his office—heart pounding, skirt seams begging for mercy—her belly wobbled with every step. Ryan was waiting by his desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened just enough to look dangerous.

Behind him sat a spread that could feed a small team.

No, feed her.

Cakes. Croissants. Fried chicken sandwiches glistening with butter. Milkshakes. A giant cinnamon roll the size of a dinner plate, oozing with icing.

She stared. Her stomach growled, shameless.

He smiled.

“You’ve done very well, Casey,” he said, walking over and letting his eyes travel down her body. “Look at you… bursting at the seams.”

He stepped closer, trailing a fingertip along the crease where her waistband dug into her belly.

“You were made for this.”

She whimpered softly.

“I’ve been testing you,” he continued, voice thick with heat. “Seeing how much you’d take. How much you could grow. And sweetheart—” he picked up the cinnamon roll, still warm, still sticky “—you passed.”

He held it up to her lips.

“Open.”

She obeyed. He pushed the sticky pastry past her lips, slow and deliberate. Her eyes fluttered shut as sugar and cinnamon melted across her tongue.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Such an obedient little feedee.”

Another bite. Then another. The roll was heavy, but Ryan was heavier with praise.

“Good girl.”
“You’re swelling so beautifully.”
“Keep eating. I want to see that belly hang.”

Casey moaned softly as he fed her bite after bite. Her stomach rounded further, pressing tightly into her skirt. Buttons strained. Fabric creaked. Still, she chewed.

“You love this, don’t you?” he murmured, brushing her swollen belly. “The weight. The tight clothes. The way I look at you.”

She nodded, cheeks puffed with pastry.

“You’re becoming exactly what I want. Greedy. Soft. Huge.”

Her belly gurgled.

“Don’t worry,” he said, grinning. “Soon, you’ll outgrow that desk. Maybe even this floor.”

She gasped as a button popped off her blouse.

And Ryan? He just laughed.