An Eencouraging Office Environment

Chapter 1

The fluorescent lights of the office bathroom flickered weakly, casting a dull glow over the tiled floor. The air was thick with the scent of bleach and something else—something sweet, almost sickly. It clung to the walls, a reminder of the sugary treats that seemed to always be on offer at the company cafeteria.

You stood in front of the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with wide, uncertain eyes. Your fingers traced the outline of your jawline, now soft and rounded, where sharp angles once existed. The weight had come on so quickly, it felt like someone had inflated you from the inside out. Your blouse strained over your chest, the buttons threatening to pop off at any moment. The waistband of your skirt dug into your hips, leaving red marks that would soon fade, only to be replaced by new ones as you continued to expand.

A sigh escaped your lips as you turned away from the mirror, your movements slow and deliberate. Every step you took sent ripples through your legs, the fat wobbling with each movement. You could feel the weight of it all—the rolls that cushioned your body, the softness that had replaced muscle. There was no denying it anymore. You were fat, and there was no going back.

You reached for the knob of the stall door, your hand trembling slightly. As you stepped inside, you heard voices approaching—familiar voices, belonging to your coworkers. They didn’t know you were here, hidden behind the thin wooden door. Their laughter echoed through the small room, bouncing off the walls and making your heart race.

“Did you see her today?” one of them giggled, a high-pitched sound that made you wince. “She looks like she’s ready to burst!”

“Oh my God, I know!” another voice chimed in, lower but just as mocking. “I swear, she’s gained like fifty pounds since she started here. It’s disgusting.”

Your cheeks burned with humiliation, but there was something else there too—a perverse thrill that curled in the pit of your stomach. You pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself smaller, even though you knew it was pointless. They couldn’t see you, but their words cut deep, slicing through the layers of fat like a hot knife through butter.

“And she eats everything,” the first voice continued, almost gleeful. “I left half my sandwich on my desk yesterday, and when I came back, it was gone. She probably scarfed it down without even thinking about it.”

“Ugh, I hate how she hovers around the break room like a vulture, waiting for scraps,” the second voice added. “It’s gross. She’s like a bottomless pit or something.”

Their words swirled around you, filling your ears with their venomous chatter. You could feel your pulse quickening, your breath coming faster as the knot of shame tightened in your chest. But underneath it all, there was that undeniable spark of excitement—the forbidden pleasure of being talked about, of being the subject of their ridicule.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of their laughter, but it only seemed to grow louder, more insistent. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms. You should leave, you knew that. You should push open the stall door and walk out, show them that you weren’t bothered by their comments. But something held you back, something dark and twisted that you couldn’t quite name.

Instead, you stayed where you were, pinned to the spot by the force of their words. You could feel your resolve weakening, your mind replaying the scene over and over again. The way they laughed, the way they whispered about you as if you were nothing more than a joke. It was humiliating, yes, but it was also… intoxicating.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, your stance shifted. Your grip on the edge of the sink loosened, your fingers splayed out against the cool porcelain. The voices outside continued, growing fainter as they moved away from the bathroom, but you barely noticed. All you could think about was the hunger—the gnawing ache that had been building inside you ever since you woke up this morning.

It was always there, lurking in the background, waiting for the chance to strike. And now, with the memory of your coworkers’ words still fresh in your mind, it roared to life, demanding to be fed. You could almost taste the sweetness of it—the rush of sugar and fat that would coat your tongue, the way it would fill you up until there was no space left.

You opened your eyes, staring at your reflection again. This time, there was something different in your gaze—a determination, a hunger that went beyond the physical. You wanted to feed it, to let it consume you completely. And you knew just how to do it.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror and walked back to your desk. It wasn’t hard to find what you were looking for—there, on the corner of your coworker’s desk, sat a plate of cookies, each one golden and crumbly, oozing with chocolate chips. You could already imagine the way they would crumble between your teeth, the richness melting on your tongue.

Without thinking, you reached for one, your fingers closing around the warm doughiness. The sensation was electric, sending a shockwave through your entire body. You brought the cookie to your mouth, taking a tentative bite. The flavor exploded across your taste buds, rich and decadent, filling the empty spaces inside you.

You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you chewed slowly, savoring every bite. The hunger was still there, but it was muted, pushed to the side by the waves of pleasure that washed over you. You took another bite, then another, until the cookie was nothing more than crumbs on your fingertips.

But it wasn’t enough. The hunger clawed its way back to the surface, stronger now, more insistent. You glanced around, searching for more, your eyes landing on the untouched plate of cookies. With a surge of determination, you grabbed another, then another, feeding the beast inside you until there was nothing left.

When you finally stopped, your stomach was painfully full, stretched to the limit with the weight of the food. You leaned back in your chair, breathing heavily, feeling the warmth spread through your body. The hunger was gone, for now, replaced by a sense of contentment that made you feel almost lightheaded.

But you knew it wouldn’t last. The hunger would return, and you would feed it again, and again, until there was nothing left of you but the desire to be filled. It was your curse, your addiction, and you were powerless to stop it.

As you sat there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching your desk. You looked up, meeting the eyes of one of your coworkers. She stared at you, a mixture of disgust and curiosity in her gaze.

“Having a snack?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You nodded slowly, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you picked up another cookie, holding it up to your mouth. The act was almost ritualistic, a symbol of your submission to the hunger that ruled your life.

“Jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head as she walked away. “Just look at you.”

You watched her go, the cookie still hovering near your lips. The hunger was back, a low growl in the back of your mind, urging you to take another bite. And so you did, biting down with a ferocity that surprised even you.

The cookie crumbled in your mouth, the flavors mingling together in a symphony of sweetness. You chewed slowly, letting the sensation wash over you, drowning out the voices in your head. For a moment, there was nothing but the taste, the feel of the food filling you up.

But as you swallowed, you knew it was only temporary. The hunger would return, and you would have to feed it again. And with each bite, you became a little bit more of the thing they called you—the fat girl, the bottomless pit, the one who couldn’t help herself.

You leaned back in your chair, staring at the remaining cookies on the plate. The hunger was still there, a constant companion, but for now, it was quiet. You had fed it, and it had given you a moment of peace.

But you knew it wouldn’t last. The next time it roared to life, you would feed it again, and again, until there was nothing left of you but the hunger. And as you reached for another cookie, you knew that you were helpless to resist.