Breathless, you enter your lunch into your calorie app, trying to remember all the little extras your feeder put into your lunch bag today. Your tummy groans and gurgles from all the food you’ve crammed into it over your lunch hour. Two baguettes, four donuts, chips, soda, chocolate, cookies and all topped off with a protein shake, lovingly mixed by your feeder with some cream.

You snacked on some of it during the morning, obviously. It’s not like you were going to be able to sit at your desk with all those goodies in your drawer and not pick at them. That’s why she’d packed so much.

You crack open your fourth can of soda, chug some down, and then let out an almighty belch. You feel a lot better letting some gas out, your stomach is so full and bloated that it’s sore even with you just lazily sitting at your desk. What you’d give for a belly rub right about now…

You screenshot the calorie app and send it to your feeder. She is quick to respond, saying she’s very proud of you and you’re way ahead of schedule for the day. That second breakfast really bumped up your intake, and she thinks it’s such a good idea that you’ll have to start doing it every morning. Your stomach protests loudly as you think about it, but she’s in charge of your stomach and she listens to no such protestations. How much you eat, when you eat…that’s all out of your control now, as it should be.

The office junior comes by your desk with a tray of cupcakes. No doubt it’s someone’s birthday, you think, but then she places them down on your desk.

“These came for you,” she says with a smile. “Shame there’s not enough to go around.”

You look at the tray. Twelve cupcakes?!

“Um, maybe I SHOULD share them,” you say, eyes bulging at the stack of sugar and fat in front of you.

“Twelve of them? In an office of 20? Hardly worth it, is it?” She leans down a little so she’s closer and nobody else can hear. “Plus, I get the feeling that whoever sent those wants you to have them all. Just saying.” She winks and then heads back to her corner with a grin on her face.

Oh god, you think. Suddenly all the snacks she keeps bringing you make sense. She knows. She has mentioned she knows your wife. They go to the gym together all the time. All those times you had to do overtime and she made sure to order takeout before she left, all those donut runs where mysteriously there were a load left over that landed on your desk…she’s been in on it.

In your shock, you’ve dropped your pen. You bend down for it, the half broken office chair creaking under your weight. You worry one of the wheels is going to break off again. Your stomach is so full and there’s so much fat in the way now that you can’t breathe. Just reaching down for this pen is utterly exhausting, but you get it just in time to sit back up and take a gasp of air and then have a gulp of soda. You realise you’ve popped open a button on your shirt and your bulging belly has pushed out into view. The office junior has noticed and she looks like she’s holding back a laugh.

You try to button it again, wondering if the shirt is going to survive those cupcakes before it gives way entirely. Your phone buzzes on your desk. You check it. It’s your feeder. She has written: “Well done on 5,000 calories today, babe. I sent you something to help double it. Remember, not a crumb goes to waste.”

You bring up a little more gas, finally get that button done up and make yourself comfortable, or as comfortable as you possibly can be with your belly as full as it is. You’ve certainly got your work cut out this afternoon.

***

A submission

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