THE CLEANER'S TRIPLE BET

Lila's POV

I gripped the handle of the mop bucket tighter as I walked down the long hallway of the boys’ dormitory. My heart was already beating fast. The black uniform they gave me was way too tight. The short dress hugged my belly and hips like a second skin, and every step made the fabric stretch across my thick thighs. I could feel eyes on me from every direction.

“Hey, look at the new cleaner!”

“Damn, that uniform is fighting for its life!”

Laughter echoed behind me. Someone whistled loud and sharp. Another guy called out, “Don’t you feel cramped in there, fatso? The uniform looks like it’s about to burst!”

I kept my head down and focused on the wet floor ahead. Someone had spilled a whole bucket of water earlier, turning the tiles into a slippery mess. The dorm attendant told me to clean it right away because people were complaining about slipping. I had no choice. This job was the only way I could pay my tuition before the deadline.

“Don’t slip, chunky! We don’t want to see you fall and break the floor!”

More laughter. A few guys even pulled out their phones, pointing them at me while I worked. My cheeks burned hot. I tried to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. The uniform rode up every time I bent over, showing more of my soft thighs than I wanted. I just wanted to finish fast and disappear.

I dipped the mop into the bucket and started pushing it across the wet tiles. The water made loud sloshing sounds that mixed with the mocking voices around me. My arms already felt tired, but I kept moving, spreading the soapy water and wiping away the dirt.

“Hey, fatso! It’s wet here!” one guy shouted in a nasty tone, laughing with his friends.

I pretended I didn’t hear him and kept mopping. My belly pressed against the tight apron with every movement. Sweat mixed with the water that had splashed on me. I just needed to finish this section and move on. This job wouldn’t last forever. I could handle it for a few months.

Finally, the floor looked clean and dry enough. I let out a small sigh of relief and turned to leave. That’s when it happened.

I bumped straight into a tall guy holding a water bottle. The bottle slipped from his hand and cold water splashed all over my chest and the front of my uniform. The floor instantly became wet again right where I had just finished cleaning.

“Oops,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing. “Not my fault. The floor’s wet again. Guess you’ll have to clean it one more time.”

I looked up at him. He was really tall, with messy dark hair and tattoos peeking out from under his sleeveless shirt. His eyes scanned my soaked uniform slowly, a small smirk on his lips.

“I guess they don’t want to see you slip there,” he added quietly, almost whispering, “because no one will be strong enough to lift you.”

The words stung. I felt my throat tighten, but I didn’t say anything back. Instead, I quickly grabbed the mop again and started cleaning the new mess. My uniform clung to my body even more now, cold and uncomfortable. The fabric stuck to my heavy breasts and round belly, making everything feel tighter than before. I could still feel people watching and whispering.

As soon as the floor was dry again, I didn’t wait. I picked up my bucket and hurried back toward the small cleaning room at the end of the hallway. My legs felt heavy and my face was still burning with embarrassment.

Inside the quiet room, I finally sat down on the old plastic chair and caught my breath. The door opened a moment later. The dorm attendant — the same strict woman who had hired me — walked in and stopped when she saw me.

“What happened to you?” she asked, eyeing my dripping uniform. “Why are you so wet?”

I looked down at myself. The black dress was now see-through in some spots from the water. “I… bumped into someone. The water bottle spilled.”

She shook her head. “Don’t you have another size? This uniform is so tight on me, it’s uncomfortable to move,” I said softly, hoping she might understand.

The woman crossed her arms. “I already told you we only have one size. If the uniform feels too tight, that means you’re the one who needs to diet. Besides, you’re already too fat for it anyway.”

Her words landed like a slap. I just sighed and looked away. She didn’t say anything else before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind her with a click.

The small room felt even smaller now. I reached into my locker and pulled out my phone. There was a new message from Mom:

“How was your first day at work, sweetie? I made your favorite food to celebrate your first day,”

I smiled a little even though my eyes felt hot. I typed back quickly:

“Everyone’s been nice to me, Mom. I can’t wait to have dinner together. Wait for me, okay?”

I sent it and put the phone back in the locker. For a moment, I just sat there staring at the small mirror on the wall. My reflection looked tired. The wet uniform clung to every curve — my soft round belly, my wide hips, my thick thighs. The short hem had ridden up again, showing the bottom of my black stockings.

I looked… big. Soft. Nothing like the slim girls I sometimes saw around campus.

But I lifted my chin and took a deep breath. I could do this. It was just a job. A few months of cleaning at night, and I’d have enough money for tuition. I didn’t have to love it. I just had to survive it.