Serial Feeder Boss - Vol. 3 - Ilaria Method

Chapter 1 - The Skinny One

This is Volume 3 of the Serial Feeder Boss series!

If you missed them, you can find Volumes 1 and 2 right on my profile.

Happy reading, everyone!

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Chiara Fossi stepped out of the metro at exactly seven forty-five, as she did every morning for the past four years. The late October wind cut across her face as she charged up the stairs of Centrale station, light backpack on her shoulder, worn-out sneakers pounding the asphalt with military rhythm. She was thin, almost skeletal, but not because of any illness: she was thin by choice. Every euro saved was a step closer to buying a new home, every pound kept under control was a declaration of strength. In her forty-two-square-meter studio apartment in the Loreto district, the fridge held nothing but white rice, grilled chicken breast, and frozen vegetables. No snacks, no expensive coffee, no eating out. In the evenings she ran ten kilometers along the Navigli to burn off tension and the few calories she allowed herself. She had recently been transferred to the upper floor of the company, into the highly productive Talent Development Department in the De Luca Tower, and she was proud of it.

That morning, as she crossed the marble lobby of the tower, her gaze brushed for a moment against a figure stepping out of the private elevator from the twentieth floor. It was Martina. Or rather, what was left of Martina, the CEO Paolo De Luca's second secretary. Her enormous ass spilled out of black leggings, her swollen belly stretched her shirt like an overfilled balloon, and her round, flushed face was framed by messy hair. She walked slowly, panting, sloppy, carrying a cardboard tray with four coffees and a stack of pastries. Chiara immediately looked away, but the shiver stayed on her skin. She had heard the hallway rumors: the boss's secretary had "changed," and this was already the second one to end up like that. Some whispered about sweets, overtime, and a body that had ballooned like a pastry in the Boss's office. Chiara clenched her teeth and quickened her pace toward the stairs. *How disgusting. I'll never end up like that. Never.*

The workday slipped by between reports, meetings, and bitter coffee from the machine on her floor. At five thirty the internal phone rang. It was Ilaria Jose, the HR Manager for the floor. Twenty-nine years old and carrying it with icy elegance, tailored suit, soft but razor-sharp voice, she wore her hair in a long bob dyed a vivid red, leaning more toward orange, and a pair of thin-lensed glasses that made people wonder if she actually needed them.

"Chiara, could you come up to my office? I'd like to talk to you about your annual review."

Ten minutes later Chiara sat across from her. Ilaria's office was an oasis of discreet luxury: glass desk, white orchids, a window framing the sunset over the city. Ilaria watched her with a calm, almost affectionate smile.

"You've done an excellent job this year, Chiara. Extremely high productivity, zero absences, zero mistakes. You run as if the devil himself were chasing you." A calculated pause. "And that's exactly why I thought of you for a special opportunity now that you've been transferred to my department."

Chiara straightened her back, her heart racing. "What is it?"

Ilaria tilted her head slightly, her glossy brown hair catching the light. "An exclusive training retreat. A full month on a luxury cruise in the Mediterranean. Workshops, networking, advanced management training. And I'll be going with you. I want to get to know you better, Chiara. You're a valuable asset to the company, but especially to me. I believe you have enormous potential... if you'd only allow yourself to relax a little."

Chiara stayed silent. A whole month. A cruise. The thought of leaving her studio, her runs, her plain rice made her feel strangely exposed. But the idea of spending thirty days next to Ilaria Jose, the woman who decided promotions, budgets, and careers on this floor, was too great a temptation.

"I... I don't know if I can afford to be away that long."

Ilaria smiled, a warm, almost intimate smile. "It's all paid for by the company. Meals, lodging, transportation. And during the cruise you'll continue to receive your full salary plus a performance bonus. Consider it an investment in your growth." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping a tone. "You've worked like a machine for years, Chiara. You deserve to breathe. And I want to be there to help you do it."

Chiara felt a strange warmth rise to her cheeks. Ilaria wasn't just inviting her on a cruise. She was choosing her. She was looking at her as if she saw something special in her, something precious. For the first time in years, someone truly noticed her.

"All right," she said at last, her voice steadier than she expected. "I accept."

Ilaria leaned back in her chair, satisfied. Her smile deepened, almost conspiratorial.

"Perfect. We leave in two weeks. Get ready, Chiara. It's going to be a month you won't forget."

As Chiara left the office, Ilaria remained seated, watching the slender figure walk away down the hallway. Her lips curved into a different smile, slower, more dangerous, laced with subtle mischief.

*I'm going to have fun with her. I need to unplug a little too,* she thought. For Ilaria this was a pleasure. In reality she simply wanted a travel companion for her vacation. Ilaria wasn't an ordinary feeder, she was *the* feeder, a secret feeder. She had been fattening people her entire young life, for as long as she could remember. Even in kindergarten she had fattened her classmate by giving her snacks and stealing others' without anyone knowing. She did it often, and it happened without her ever having to expose herself on the subject, seducing without the victim realizing it, yet making them feel they had to eat for her in an almost unreal way simply by making the other person feel obligated to indulge something she implied she wanted but never stated explicitly. An innate talent, or one trained from a very young age. That was in her private life. In the corporate world she had devised other methods, and surely not all of them legal.

Outside, the sunset tinted the glass of the De Luca Tower red. On the twentieth floor, Paolo De Luca was still working on his latest prey (Martina), unaware that another game was about to begin downstairs. Two predators, two different methods, one shared tower.

And Chiara, for the first time in her life, had just opened the door to the wrong office.