chapter 1

As Imogen drove home, she was conscious of her pencil skirt straining at the seams to constrain the expanse of her bottom, and of the puckered diamonds of fabric about the buttons of her blouse where her pot belly stretched it taut. 'I guess I'm getting a little chubby myself,' she thought to herself. It was only to be expected, and she didn't much mind.

Her skirt was lying discarded on the floor before the front door was even shut behind her, her blouse unbuttoned with the enthusiasm of a lover disrobing, which in a way, she was. Her belly was round and just dipped over the waistband of her black lacy knickers. Both knickers and matching bra were growing tight, though they were quite new.

From the other pile of discarded clothes in the hallway, an azure blue dress, black leggings, a turquoise bra, and an oversize red belt hung carelessly over the bannister, she knew that Nicole was home and had been just as eager to undress. Nina's car was in the driveway, too, though none of her clothes were out here. As often as not, though, she came home carrying so much work that she had to get to her room and set it down before she could do anything else.

It worried her how hard those two worked - she wished they could find something that would allow them to work from home. Still, she could at least ensure that they were able to relax when they got home. She picked up her and Nicole's clothes and carried them though to the wash basket in the utility room. Today was not washing day. Today was weigh day.

A certain superstitious expectancy fell over the house on weigh day. She had received jocular calls of greeting from the girls when she came in, all except Rosie, who she could see parked up outside under the apple tree reading a book in the sunshine, and had returned them, but had made no attempt to go and see them. They kept deliberately secluded, confined to their own rooms; the living room was empty.

Wasting no time, Imogen ensured the fridges and vast snack tubs in the living room were fully stocked, knowing that weigh day stimulated all of their already healthy appetites. The chairs were arranged back against the wall, keeping the floor space as broad as possible. She had left the room clean and tidy that morning, but she ran a duster over everything anyway, wondering if she wasn't turning into her mother.