The Side Hustle

Chapter 1

He opened his eyes, groggy and unsure of where he was. As his vision adjusted, he realized he was in a moderately sized, sterile-looking white room. He was seated in the middle of the room in a chair, partially reclined. For a moment he thought he must be at the dentist, but as he became more aware, he realized that this was not like any dentist or doctor’s office he had ever visited before.

The walls had no windows or any sort of dividers or markings, they were just pure solid white - almost blinding. The ceiling and floor were no different - white, sterile, plain and non-descript. As he scanned the room it also occurred to him that there was no door he could see. He shifted to look behind the chair he was seated in, but his movement was immediately restricted. He looked down and realized he was restrained to the chair: a strong, leather band went across his legs, just above his knees across his lower thighs; his upper arms were bound to the chair, leaving him free to move everything from his lower elbow including his hands. However, he could not see how or where the straps closed around him. He began more frantically struggling against the straps which gently cinched his soft arms and plump thighs, causing swells of fat to rise up on either side of the straps; the swells jiggled and wobbled as much as they could as he struggled to free himself. He was dressed in plain grey cotton clothing, aside from his stomach which stuck out proudly in front of him, swollen and jiggling as he wriggled.

He heard a click behind him and immediately stopped moving: he was not alone in the room. Although whoever was in the room behind him was exceedingly quiet - almost imperceptible - once he sensed their presence it became very salient and over-powering.

“Hello?” he said curiously, and somewhat still groggily from whatever he had been dosed with to knock him out.

No answer.

He strained to turn his neck to no avail.

“Where am I? What the fuck is this?” he began struggling again against the leather straps, causing his enormous stomach to bounce rhythmically.

Suddenly, there was a cruel whisper right behind him

“Aww looks like the big boy has gotten himself stuck” said a seductive female voice that he immediately recognized. It was his boss from work. Why the hell was she there?

Without warning, a blindfold was put over his eyes causing him to panic and protest more.

He felt a hand pressing against his stomach and noticed his boss’s characteristic sharp nails press into his soft flesh - not too hard, just enough for him to feel the pressure.

“You can fight all you want, you’re mine now.”

He knew his boss was in front of him now based on where the voice came from as well as the fact that she was flexing her hand repeatedly against his stomach as if she were bouncing a ball. He heard her laugh to herself and she continued to delight in the thick layer of blubber that covered his middle.

“What's going on, where are we?”

“We’re at my house, my diligent employee. You’ve been here before, once, for the holiday party. However my…special room was not accessible to guests.”


“Is this some kind of joke? Seriously, what is going on.” he asked sternly, hoping to lean into their professional rapport and highlight that what she was doing was not only completely inappropriate for a boss to do, but also illegal - this was kidnapping.

“No joke - I’m giving you exactly what you’ve been asking for over the last 5 years.”

“A 300% raise?” he replied sarcastically, unable to disentangle his existing relationship with his captor from his current circumstance.

He heard her a genuine chuckle escape her in response,

“I’m afraid not my dear, but we will definitely be examining ways you have inflated over the last few years.” she said, slowly and deliberately poking his lower belly, making him feel gluttonous with an underlying current of shame at how fat he had grown while working at his desk job.

He felt increased pressure against his belly, with his fat compressing against him like a large, soft pillow. He couldn’t tell if it was her fist or some other sort of implement, but it continued pressing into his soft fat slowly, with inches and inches of his soft blubber crowding around it. The feeling was not painful, the pressure never went beyond the deepest layers of his blubber, however it did underscore to him just how overfed he had become. Inches and inches of fat had accumulated across his belly, causing it to expand and swell. On one level, he had been acutely aware of how much he had plumped up: he regularly needed to replace his button-up work shirts and pants with a larger waist size to accommodate his growing girth. At the same time, he had been in denial of just how much he had been eating and eating (and overeating). Now, sitting here helpless with all of his gluttony exposed and front and center, there was no space left for denial; only acceptance of the plain truth which was that he had gorged himself into a greedy, fat butterball. And now his boss - the picture of physical health and fitness - was making sure he knew that he was not the only one who was aware of how he had ballooned.

The pressure that had been placed against his belly was gently removed and he felt two hands rest on the crest of his round stomach. The hands lazily but possessively began grabbing handfuls of his fat, squeezing it so that blubber rose up in between the fingers.

“Look at this tender belly you’ve grown.” More squeezing. With a handful of fat, she quickly and repeatedly flexed her fingers, causing his belly to jiggle violently. “Fat, fat, fat.”

She slid her hands lower, gently massaging his lower belly which resembled freshly risen dough.

“I remember when we hired you - you were definitely a chubby boy with potential. But you have exceeded all my expectations.”

story is continued here:
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