Chapter 1

           The house was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the sound of my spoon as I scraped the last vestige of ice cream out of the carton. It was early—no one else was up yet—but I’d already managed to kill the entire thing by myself. My belly ached with the effort, straining at my pajamas. It was a strange combination of pleasure and pain. The sensation was…alluring.


            I glanced up at the clock and saw it was just shy of 6am. I felt a little embarrassed. It had taken me less than 30 minutes to finish my ‘breakfast’, all while unsuccessfully trying to convince myself I needed to stop. I hadn’t listened. I never did. One look at me was enough to prove I was a bit lacking in self-control.


            As I sat there, I couldn’t help but reflect on how my life had changed in the years since moving in with the Millers. Mostly for the better, of course. It was a more stable environment, which was something I’d lacked most of my childhood. And Lydia certainly treated me well, more like family than a live-in housekeeper. It really was an ideal situation, or nearly so.


            I just hadn’t anticipated I’d get so fat.


            With only a single bite left, I thought I was home free. But then I heard footsteps walking towards the kitchen and felt my face starting to warm. Please be Lydia, I thought desperately. Please be Lydia.


            “What are you doing up so early?” Mark asked.


            Oh, no!


            “Uh…good morning, Mark,” I said with all the fake cheerfulness I could muster, trying not to look guilty as I turned around. Luckily, the room was dark enough—and I was probably wide enough now—that he wouldn’t see the container of ice cream on the counter. But still his eyes narrowed as they took me in.


            “I see,” he said darkly. I looked down, too, and realized that not only had my tank top ridden up to expose my soft, round belly, but that I’d managed to drip a noticeable amount of ice cream onto it.


            “It…it’s not what it looks like,” I said quickly.


            “I’m sure it’s not,” he grunted, turning to leave. “I’m going on a run. Maybe get things cleaned up before I get back.”

            “Mark, I…” But he was gone.


            As usual, the sight of Mark had made my young heart beat a little faster. Who cared that he was almost old enough to be my father, or that he was already married. He was handsome and charming, and he made me feel like I was something special. Though maybe not as much in recent days. And I had spent a lot of time in the last few months trying to figure out what changed.


            When I’d first moved in with the Millers, right after graduating high school, he had been endlessly kind. I didn’t have much experience with it, but I was sure he was flirting with me. Harmless, but it made me feel good. But now instead of attention, he mostly ignored me. Instead of smiles, I got angry glares. Instead of him innocently brushing my hand, I got barely disguised contempt.


            Don’t be stupid, Lucy, a voice in my head whispered. You know why he started treating you like garbage.


            I sighed, feeling the truth of my self-condemnation. I wasn’t the same girl I had been a year ago. That girl had been slim and pretty and had turned Mark’s head just by entering the room. Now, I was fat and flabby, and only managed to turn Mark’s head the other way. And the worst part was I had no one else to blame. I’d done it to myself.


            Truthfully, it would have left me feeling empty if I hadn’t just pigged out on an entire carton of ice cream.


            I looked down at myself, at the belly pouring out between my top and bottoms, and my breasts sitting on top of it. Even my slightest movement sent a ripple through me, and there was absolutely no chance of seeing my toes. I sighed.


            “I’m such a pig,” I told myself, feeling my eyes start to burn. “And I need to stop. I need to get back to the girl I used to be!”


            “What was that, Luce?” a voice asked. I made a quick swipe at my unshed tears as I turned towards the door. This time, it was Lydia who walked through, looking elegant in a pair of silken pajamas.


            “Nothing, Lydia,” I said. “Just talking to myself.”


            “No harm in that,” she agreed. “Let me guess: wondering why you’re up so early?” She laughed, like a musical tinkle. I forced out a chuckle of my own before replying.


            “I guess…I couldn’t sleep.”


            Lydia’s eyes moved from me to the counter, where the empty carton of ice cream still sat. “Of course, of course,” she said, looking back at me. “I suppose that means you’re ready for breakfast.” She started walking towards the pantry. “And I’ve got something special just for you,” she added, opening the door and stepping inside.


            “That’s alright,” I began. “I’m not…”


            Nonsense,” Lydia said, emerging with a flat box I recognized as coming from a local bakery she loved to frequent. She turned it towards me and opened it to reveal a dozen perfect-looking donuts. “First pick,” she said. “Go ahead.”


            Despite my reservations, I began reaching for a donut before I could stop myself. “I…I really shouldn’t,” I said, uncomfortably aware of how tight my pajamas were. Was I possibly so far gone that I was still reaching for donuts even after killing an entire carton of ice cream, all before 6am? Was my appetite really that out of control?


            “Nonsense,” Lydia said, gesturing towards me with the box. “You work so hard. Why not indulge yourself?”

            I could almost feel my fingers shaking as I fought the urge to start shoving donuts into my mouth. Instead, I put my hands on my belly, feeling the strange dichotomy of a hard-packed center surrounded by a thick layer of flab.


            “I can’t,” I whispered. “Please. I can’t. I can’t keep going like this.”


            Lydia stared at me for a long moment, then closed the box of donuts. Something seemed to have changed in her demeanor, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. But the way she carried herself now, it made me…nervous.


            “Such a shame,” she said, putting the box down on the counter. “But all good things, I suppose.”


            I shifted my prodigious weight awkwardly. “Thank you for understanding.”


          � � Her answering smile lacked any of the warmth I was used to. “You really are naïve, aren’t you?”

            The words hit like a slap to the face. “What?”


            “I’ll admit,” she continued, as though I hadn’t spoken, “I’m a little disappointed it’s over, but then again you really have outdone even my wildest expectations.”


            “What expectations? Lydia, what are you talking about?”


            She grinned at me, like a fox grinning at a chicken. “I’m talking about how fat you’ve gotten over the last year.”


            My face grew hot with humiliation. “Yes, I know,” I said quietly as I grabbed my belly. “I have put on a lot of weight.”

            “No,” she said sternly. “You got fat. Huge. Enormous. I would have thought you had enough self-respect not to let yourself blow up like a balloon, but you’ve also got a sweet tooth like nothing I’ve ever seen.” She reached out a finger and began circling my navel. “It’s been a lot of fun to watch.”


            I opened my mouth to speak, but her touch made it hard to concentrate. Then she pressed her entire hand against my gut, slowly sliding it downward until she was cupping it, and I felt my entire brain short-circuit. I moaned softly, torn between recoiling from her touch and begging her for more.


            “I thought as much,” Lydia whispered. “On some level, you wanted this. You should be thanking me.”


            I was still in a daze, but something about her words struck a chord. “Thank you?” I asked, shaking my head to clear away some of the cobwebs. “Do you mean…you did this to me on purpose?”

            Lydia raised an eyebrow at me. “Not as naïve as I thought, then. But still dumb enough to let it happen.”


            A powerful wave of emotions began roiling up from the depths of my soul: anger, hatred, humiliation, and—if I were being honest—just a little bit of excitement. “Are you saying you did this to me?” I demanded.


            “Spare me the outrage, Lucy,” Lydia said. “I’ve been here the whole time. Watching you, enabling you, maybe even…encouraging you a little bit.”


            “I can’t believe it,” I said. I felt suddenly lightheaded and leaned back against the counter for support. “You really—”


            “Fattened you up on purpose?” she asked with a smile. “I absolutely did.”


            Her confession, delivered so simply, hit me like a bomb. My heart lurch, as though it had dropped into the depths of my ample belly. “You…but…why?”


             Lydia transformed before my eyes, all traces of amusement gone. Cold fury radiated from her, like powerful waves I could practically feel.


            “Because I have eyes, you little slut!” she hissed.


            “What are you talking about?”

            “I’m talking about Mark! And the way you look at him. Honestly, did you really think you had a chance with him?”


            My cheeks were burning. “I…I don’t know…”


            “Don’t lie to me, Lucy!” she snapped. I’ve been here the whole time, watching you stare after him like a lovesick puppy. Kind of pathetic, if you ask me.” Her eyes grew darker. “But then Mark started responding, and I knew you were going to be a problem.”


            “It was harmless,” I said softly. “I never meant…”


            “I don’t care what you meant,” Lydia said. “Because I know my husband and his roving eye. You’re not the first girl to catch it, but you are the first girl I could do something about. You wanted attention, so I decided to feed it to you.”


            I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn’t manage a single syllable. Instead, I just looked down at the floor, though a large portion of my vision was taken up by the pale curve of my enormous stomach.


            It really has been a lot of fun, though,” she continued. “All the snacks, the extra helpings, the endless desserts.” She grabbed my stomach with both hands and wobbled it back and forth. “You took to it all like the pig you are. And I made sure Mark saw everything. I swear, nothing kills a man’s libido like watching his little crush turn herself into a blimp!”

            “You’re sick,” I whispered.


            “No, I’m protecting what’s mine! And that’s what you get for trying to wiggle your way into my marriage. And maybe next time you’ll realize there’s no such thing as a little harmless flirting.”


            I stared in shock at this woman, one whom I had trusted, even counted as a friend. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. Her confession, and her justification, echoed in my head. Louder than the pounding of my heart, or the ache in my tight belly. Her friendly manner, gentle encouragement, endless treats…


            It had all been a lie, a slow and deliberate trap.


            How could I stay?


            “I need to leave,” I said.


            “No, you’re not,” Lydia smiled.


            “I am,” I said, trying to straighten my posture. The hanging weight of my gut made it difficult. “I don’t know where I’m going, but I am leaving.”


            “You’re upset,” Lydia said, then reached down to the box of donuts and gently pushed it towards me. “And you’re not thinking clearly.”


            “I am, though,” I said. “More clearly than I have in months.”

            “Oh?” Lydia asked. “And where do you think you’re going to go? Life wasn’t exactly easy for you, and you’re not the same girl you were a year ago.”


            “I’ll figure something out.”


            “Without any savings? Family? Clothes that fit you? You’ve grown so comfortable here. Safe. And I think, deep down, you like that. You need that.”


            I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Because, on some level, I wasn’t sure she was wrong. Looking down—at the swell of my belly, the width of my hips, the fullness of my breasts—I felt anchored to the spot. And not just physically, either.


            “I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered, more to myself than to Lydia.


            “But you can,” she said, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “And you will.”


            I wanted to recoil from her touch, to refute her belief, to do anything. Instead, I just sat there like an obedient pet. Then my gaze dropped towards the box of donuts. Lydia’s smile was warm and inviting.


            “Of course, Lucy,” she said, opening the box. “You should have one. Or two.” She leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Or as many as you like.”

            I paused for a second—just long enough to hate myself—before I reached inside the box.