I came home to my maid- plump in her tiny black outfit, teal hair over her heavy breasts- caught red-handed on camera. She went from dusting dutifully to raiding the sweets: Sneaking cupcakes and donuts. Gulping down milk and belching. Devouring pie straight from the tin, _with her soft belly flopped out on my countertop. _Shameless.

She denied it all when I confronted her. Cheeks flushed, guilty expression on her face. I sat her down at the dining table and extracted her confession. Her voice was small. But her swollen belly gave away more than her words could have.

Her punishment? Eat more.

She whined as she reluctantly stuffed herself for me. "Pull your belly out." She obeyed, slowly, letting the massive, stretch-marked dome spill freely into her lap. She placed her hands behind her head on demand, as I stepped behind her. I lifted her heavy belly, letting it fall and wobble. I fingered her deep navel, as she cringed and turned away.

**The ruined pie came next. **Spoonful after oversized spoonful pushed past her protests, until she finally tapped out. Bloated. Tight. Breathless. All mine, if she wants to keep her job.