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Fat Fantasy #4

My work uniform has been feeling tight for a while now. To be fair, I’ve been stress eating a lot but this damn thing was always too tight in the first place. This morning I had to use a safety pin to close up a gaping hole over my belly.

I’ve been in work for five hours now and still no lunch break. We’re not supposed to eat in the office, but I know my manager will be unimpressed if I leave the office for a full hour. Luckily, all my colleagues will be in another meeting for the next 30 minutes, so I quickly head to the KFC across the street and stare at the menu trying to decide what to have. Eventually I settle on the bargain bucket, since the 25 minutes I have left should be plenty of time to get through it.

I rush back to the office and stick the bucket under my desk, thinking I’ll be able to pretend I wasn’t eating if anyone comes in unexpectedly. As it happens, I’m left in peace for another half hour and I manage to get the whole bucket down before they return. I lean back in the chair, cursing the fact that I’m the only worker left in this building who still has a chair with arms on it. The maintenance crew are supposed to be removing them for “health and safety reasons” but they never seem to get round to it.

Speaking of round, my belly is really straining the fabric of my uniform now and the safety pin that was holding it together has already gone, leaving it to gape open in places. As my colleagues return from their meeting, I try to sit up in my chair and act like I’ve been working this whole time. As one of them drops some papers on my desk and looks at me to say something, a button suddenly flies off and skitters along the desk. Two more follow in quick succession, leaving my belly to push out from my uniform and flow into my lap.

In no time at all, my colleagues are all gathered around my desk, making smart-ass comments and laughing at my expense. With my face flushed red, I try to get up out of my chair to leave the room, only to find that I’m stuck. The arms of the chair are wedged firmly between my belly and my lovehandles and when I stand up, the chair comes with me. Upon seeing this, my colleagues collapse into fits of laughter, but there’s nothing I can do. There’s no way I can fit the chair into the small gap between my desk and the wall, I’ve had a hard time squeezing through it myself lately. One of my colleagues rushes off out of the room and I’m hopeful that someone will fetch help, but in the meantime I’m trapped behind the desk in this chair and there’s nothing I can do to stop my colleagues from poking my belly, making fat jokes and making loud pig noises. Worse still, some of them already have their camera phones out.

Within a few minutes, the colleague who left has returned, but rather than bringing help, he’s holding a family size bucket of fried chicken. I’m held back in the chair and forced to eat every single piece, whilst my colleagues poke my gut, call me names and film me on their phones.

Just as I’ve finished the last piece of chicken, my manager walks through the door and my colleagues rush back to their desks, leaving the evidence on my desk. My manager is incensed by the sight of me wedged into my chair, with my exposed belly hanging out for all to see. After a rant about eating in the office and the professional nature of this work environment, a quick phonecall to the maintenance crew is made. I’m hopeful this ordeal will finally be over soon, but unfortunately they arrive without any of the tools necessary to dismantle the chair. Instead, they pull my desk away to create more room and one of the maintenance guys pushes me towards the office door as another holds it open.

I’m red-faced with shame as I’m pushed through the entire building with my belly hanging out and exposing my gluttony. Those who see me quickly rush into their offices to get their colleagues to come out and see. It doesn’t help that another manager stops us before we get to the elevators and demands to know what is going on. In the time it takes the maintenance guys to explain, a small crowd gathers.

Finally we arrive in the maintenance garage, where the maintenance crew are incredibly amused by my predicament. They indulge in quite a lot of teasing themselves, before they finally start looking for equipment to dismantle my chair with. As they finally get one of the arms free, I sit forward suddenly and there’s a creaking noise before the chair collapses underneath me. The maintenance crew are falling over themselves laughing. Needless to say, I end up eating a lot more chicken before I’m allowed to go home that night.