Bad Day at Work

Chapter 1

Lounging on the couch watching a movie, you’re startled by your girlfriend barging in. Her keys rattle loudly as she tosses them carelessly onto a table in the foyer and she storms into the room.

“. . . Hey,” you greet as she enters the room, “you doing okay?”

“Fine.” She replies tersely. “Just not a good day at work.”

You watch her leave, noting the takeout bags clenched in her fists.

It looked like a lot.

You settle back under the blanket and wait for her to come join you. Maybe she just needs to be cuddled better.

She slides under the blanket a couple moments later, curling into your side and firmly planting a hand on the front of your belly. If you could, you would be purring at the attention; you settle for nuzzling into her neck. She definitely just needed to be cuddled better.

The next thing you knew, she was kneading your chub, rolling the softest bits in between her fingers and pinching. It didn’t hurt, but she really seemed to be putting a lot of strength into it. She shifted around a bit and somehow managed to get you between her legs, resting against her chest. She settled her chin on your shoulder and continued groping your poor belly.

It was only when she slapped the side of it that you decided to comment.

“You’re probably making it all red,” you whine.

“I’d love to make you red all over.” She snickers before sucking a hickey onto your neck.

You try to ignore her laugh as your face flushes at the comment.

“I got you dinner,” She says vacantly.

“I’m hungry, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She maneuvers out from under you and has you pinned under her palms faster than you can react.

“I wasn’t.” She says. “Asking, that is.”

She tells you to stay like that, sprawled on your back, as she picks up the takeout from where she placed it on the counter. She seems very worked up for only being home twenty minutes.

After placing the, gosh, three bags on the coffee table, she rifles through one until she pulls out a burger. Knowing the drill, you extend your hands to accept it, she playfully slaps your hands away.

“Greedy.” She teases, unwrapping it and taking a bite. “This one’s for me.”

Your heart flutters at the dig, almost embarrassed. Your straying thought about how long she’ll make you wait is quashed when she plops another one in your blanketed lap so you’ll stop pouting. You unwrap it eagerly.

When you’re done, you reach to the side to grab another one, or maybe some fries, only to have your hands batted away again. Your girlfriend pops the last bite of her burger into her mouth and reaches into the bag. She pulls out another burger first, transferring it to her other hand, and then a carton of fries.

She unwraps it as she settles into her spot on the couch and leans over you. You open your mouth obediently and let her feed you. In between bites of burger, she stuffs a couple fries in your mouth too. You have to push them in to eat them since she seems inclined to feeding you so many at a time that they half hang out.

“Ugh, you’re such a fat little thing, aren’t you?” She groans as she continues to shove fries into your still full mouth. “All this food isn’t doing your fat ass any favors.”

“You’re being a bit rough today, I see.” You giggle.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” She punctuated her statement with more burger. “Can’t you eat any faster?”

You were really trying, but her pace was breakneck. Also you really needed a drink of water or something. You figured she might be more willing if you finished the current burger she was stuffing you with.

“Drink?” You ask, tapping her arm.

“Sure!” Was the unexpectedly animated reply. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two milkshakes knocking against each other in their cardboard carton. You could tell from your spot on the couch that it they were large. Already you were giving up on finishing all the food on the table. It wasn’t like you weren’t full already, four hamburgers was a lot, even with how well trained you were.

“Here, you can hold it so you don’t spill it on yourself.”

You immediately began to suck at the straw, sighing softly as the cold mixture combatted the dryness in your mouth. She stopped you from placing it on the table.

“Finish it.”

You glanced at the remaining liquid in the cup, there was a lot left, you’d barely gotten through a quarter. You sipped at it slowly; you could definitely finish it, but you weren’t sure about the rest of the food. You planned to focus on one step at a time.

The shake sat heavily in your belly. You could feel yourself bloating up the more you drank.

As you finished it, you found yourself breathing a bit shallower. You have eaten a lot, you guessed. Everything seems to be stacking against you.

You began to rub circles into your belly as you watched your girlfriend deliberate over what to feed you next.

“Finish these and then you can have dessert,” She grinned. She held a burger in each hand, one in a cardboard box, and one wrapped in wax paper.

She popped the boxed one out of its container and offered it to you. You leaned forward a bit and took it into your mouth. Logically, you knew it was good, but it was like you were running uphill, met with a veritable resistance. You groaned as you forced yourself to swallow.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already.” She teased. “How am I supposed to take care of you if you won’t eat?”

You steel yourself for the next bite as she settles between your legs, her knees pressing into your sides. Reluctantly, you open your mouth. Your palm was pressed firmly into the side of your belly, it wasn’t really helping, but you refused to move it either way.

The feeding went on like that until you finished those last of the burgers. Leaving you stuffed to the gills. You don’t want to eat more at this point. What you really want is to lie down and let your girlfriend cuddle you as you doze off.

Said girlfriend has other plans for you though. From the last bag, she dumps out a pile of individually wrapped apple pies and napkins, enough to make you whimper.

You don’t finish everything, not by a long shot. There’s still a ton of leftover burgers and fries and apple pies, but she still tells you that you did a good job and you still feel so damn full. She pets your hair as she rubs your belly.

You firmly believe that her day’s going a lot better now.