32.

The appearance of Steve and Henry was the talk of the camp at the next weigh-in. The more than buxom blondes held almost legendary status at the camp. Only a few of the seniors such as Tony had ever actually met them, so for most campers they were an integral and almost mythical part of Shawn’s legend; the beautifully round boyfriends who aided the overthrow of David Dolittle. 

 

When they were measured and weighed most of the boys were awed and amazed at their identical stats. And they were so fat! 104 inches around the middle! Despite gaining another inch Oliver no longer had the biggest belly at camp! Even Shawn was impressed with how much the troublesome two had grown, especially since he knew that they’d done it to please him. Now he once more had some catching up to do, a challenge that thrilled and excited him to the bone, the big hard bone in his pants!

 

Shawn was not the only one to become excited by the sight of the badly ballooned twins. Oliver had asked Stefan in shame if it was ok to look, only to be told by the movement of his hand to Stefan’s rock hard crotch, that he would be a complete hypocrite if he told him he wasn’t. The two young lovers touched each other and drooled over the twins as their bellies were measured.

 

Shawn’s continued determination to once more be crowned king of camp had also added another two inches to his frame, leaving him just three short of the big 1-0-0. A number he was determined to achieve within the next week. He had also increased his weight to 535 lbs. As big as David Dolittle he told himself as his dick and belly pushed Henry into the mattress after the weigh-in.

 

Out of the campers it was the emo Simon LeFont who had gained the most. Aided by his new habit of taking breakfast and supper with Shawn in the restaurant, he had managed to add 26 lbs, mostly to his globular lower torso and ass. This burst him passed the 300 mark to 311 lbs. This extra weight had had the effect of swelling his pot belly out another three inches, giving him a circumference of 58 inches in total.

 

Gaining more in a week than Oliver had made him super happy and he made himself temporarily unpopular with his friends when he boasted about the fact repeatedly at breakfast. The other cabin six boys had, of course, all gained. However, they had let the slack off a bit compared to the previous week as they had gradually come to the same realisation as Simon that trying to out gain Shawn was an impossible task. Collectively they had grown 15 lbs on average.

 

As pleased as Simon was that he had gained more than his rival Oliver, he still badly felt the need to have a bigger belly than him. This felt almost impossible given that Oliver measured almost 40 inches more than Simon around the middle. Simon was bemoaning this fact during his evening supper, of thirty six boiled eggs dipped in high fat mayo, when Shawn had whispered to him that it just might be possible. If Simon was willing to take it to the next level.

 

“How?” Simon had asked him keenly, greedy eyes-a-blazin.

 

“Funnel feeding,” Shawn said.

 

“Oh yes, please!” Simon said.

 

Simon was so excited by this prospect, as Shawn explained the process to him, that he managed to increase his boiled egg consumption to forty eight. That night he had a wet dream for the first time since he was thirteen. He dreamt that he was a hot air balloon floating peacefully in the sky expanding bigger and bigger as more gas was pumped into him.

33.

Simon was tied to the office chair. His arms were pulled tight behind his back causing him to arch forwards accentuating his already swollen belly. He had been treated to breakfast with Shawn, Steve, Henry, and Jake. All four heroes had egged him on into eating more than he ever had before. Now it was time for his reward.

 

Simon knew that his wood sticking blatantly against his chubby thigh was giving all these gays the wrong impression but he couldn’t help it. The thought of being forced funnel fed, when he was already stupidly full, was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. He desperately tried to ignore the creepy skinny camera guy who clearly kept touching himself.

 

Jake affixed a clamp to Simon’s jaw so that he looked like an obese bloated version of the Clockwork Orange guy. Henry then fed the tube into his waiting gaping greedy throat. He choked as the pipe passed his gag reflex. The gays laughed. 

 

Shawn came forward and placed his hand on the top right side of Simon’s belly. He told him that his stomach feels full but that he knows that he can take so much more. Shawn then gave him a kiss on his chubby cheek causing him to squirm in his seat. Steve began to pour the gallon of melted ice cream in.

 

At first, Simon couldn’t taste it. The feeding tube was too far down his throat so the rich sickly treat bypassed his taste receptacles. He just felt the soft thickness land in his distended belly. The pain was immediate. He saw and felt his belly rise as his already overloaded stomach was forced to take more and more of the thick creamy liquid. Tears ran from his eyes and he desperately wanted to beg them to stop but he couldn’t speak, he just squirmed around while they danced with glee watching his ever swelling belly get bigger and bigger. Time seemed to stop but the ice cream just kept on coming. Simon couldn’t understand where it was all going. His stomach was so tightly packed and squealed in pain yet somehow the ice cream kept flowing down the tube. He had no idea that it was possible to feel this full. Possible to go on consuming. If they hadn’t tied, gagged, and clamped him, he would have screamed and kicked and swore until they stopped, but he couldn’t. So they didn’t. His stomach felt like a brick and his soft belly fat was turning as hard as his cock. Eventually there was relief as the flow dribbled to a stop.

 

Shawn put his huge fat hand back on Simon’s belly.

 

“Whooah! Dude feels ready to pop!”

 

“Let’s do it!” Henry squealed.

 

“Yeah, Let’s pop him!” Steve agreed.

 

Simon tried to squirm in order to communicate his disapproval but his belly was so full that it hurt to breathe, let alone move. Jake began to pour the second gallon in. Once more the calorific cream loaded itself on top of his bloated, bloated stomach. He could see himself swelling not only in the belly but in the chest. He knew it couldn’t be right, yet he felt like his thighs and ass were also growing. He felt a warm liquid  congealing in his pants. He began to taste the strawberry ice cream for the first time. It was cool and sweet and working its way back up his oesophagus. It filled his throat, and then his mouth. Every inch of his digestive system was overloaded with melted ice cream to the point where it was now spurting out of his mouth and nose. He started to turn blue as the thick cold liquid entered his nose and lungs.

 

Jake quickly removed the pipe from his throat and undid the clamp. Steve untied his hands and Simon’s head lurched forward, coughing and spluttering. Melted ice cream ran out of his nostrils and he spat thick clumps of it onto the floor as the colour started to return to his face.

 

“You could have fucking killed me!” He gasped.

 

“Yeah, but look how fucking swollen you are!” Shawn beamed.

 

Simon looked down at his midriff. He had never dreamt of ever seeing himself so round. He looked fucking huge. He needed more. Panic over, the pain in his stomach suddenly returned in a stabbing motion and he grabbed hold of his massively distended ball gut and screamed. It felt so hard, so tight.

 

“We wouldn’t have let you die, man.” Jake said. “We just wanted to take you to the absolute limit.”

 

“Did you get all of that down, Simpson?” Steve said, to the incredibly tall and fat Dutch guy standing in the corner.

 

Simpson nodded.

 

“Now it’s time to help you relax,” Shawn said with a wink.

 

He moved his face down into Simon’s crotch and stuck out his tongue. Simon tried to back away but the pain in his belly was just too much. Shawn licked along the side of Simon’s limp shaft and noticed just how wet his pants were. He took a good taste of fresh young fat boy juice and licked his greedy lips.

 

“Simon, you wicked sexy thing! You really did enjoy that didn’t you!”

 

“I did!” Simon admitted with relief that he had, by chance, gotten out of an unwanted sexual encounter. The thought of Shawn sucking his dick made him want to vomit hard.

 

“I already feel so much fatter!” He added.

 

“Well, the bloat will go down in a few hours, but the calories, the calories they’ll stay.” Jake said, smiling at him.

 

“Right, my turn!” Shawn commanded, trying to pull Simon out of the chair.

 

Simon groaned and protested but eventually managed to stand. He slowly made his way to the door.

 

“Hey, ain’t you gonna stay and watch the rest of us do it?” Henry asked.

 

“Yeah, stay and help out!” Steve added.

 

Simon would have liked to stay and see how the other boys handled the task but he had noticed the stains in the camera guy's pants and had already decided that these gay boys were obviously going to get too sticky for his liking.

 

“Nah! Thanks, but I really do need to lie down.” He said with full honesty.

 

Once he’d left Henry said. “He seems like a sweet guy, shame he left.”

 

“Yeah, he’s cool,” Shawn said as he settled into the chair to be fed, “He told me yesterday that he’s going to pledge to be a Surplus.” Shawn lied.

 

“Nice!” Jake said, “I can’t wait for that!”

 

“He’s gay right?” Steve asked. “He looks gay,” Henry added.

 

“Of course!” Shawn lied again.

34.

After the third weigh-in and celebratory breakfast Tony took Simon aside and asked to speak with him in private. He was concerned with how much time he was spending with Shawn and some of the other counsellors. He started off gently, knowing that this was going to be a touchy subject.

 

“So, how are things with you? We barely see you nowadays.”

 

“I’m great thanks. This place is beyond my wildest dreams.”

 

“You do certainly seem to be making the most of it.”

 

“Yeah man, who would ever have thought that I’d gain 30 lbs in a week! I honestly thought that was like how much I’d put on over the whole summer. It’s wild!”

 

“That is a seriously high figure.”

 

“Yeah, I know. If I can do the same again next week then I’m gonna absolutely smash through 60 inches!”

 

As he said this Simon pulled up his now torn New Found Gains t-shirt so that his 59 inch globular orb of fat burst out. He cupped it in both hands, squeezing at his thick new layers of fat.

 

“I always knew that gaining felt good like, but I never knew that it could feel this good! This belly’s gonna be fucking massive by the time I go home!”

 

Tony took in the bright red stretch marks that ran along the sides of Simon’s gut. They made it look like a Tiger had been scratching at his itchy stretching belly. He couldn’t figure out how to word what he wanted to say next without sounding like a total hypocrite so he just spat it out.

 

“Are you sure you’re not gaining too quickly?”

 

“What? What the fuck dude? Are you a quitter? You’re not turning into one of those pussyhole anti-ex-gainers are you?”

 

“No! No! Not at all! I wanna get as fat as the next boy, but I’m not convinced that gaining like 60 lbs in two weeks is the best way to do it, that’s all. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“You’re just fucking jealous. Shawn’s right about you. Tiny Tony, just playing at getting fat.”

 

“Shawn is the problem.”

 

“What did you gain this week? 12 lbs like? That’s fucking pathetic!”

 

“14! And this is the problem with guys like Shawn. Camp is supposed to be inclusive and supportive. It’s not a competition. You should be pleased for me!”

 

“Who in their right mind could be pleased with only gaining 14 lbs? I’m going to have the biggest, roundest, belly in the world!”

 

“And what will you do then?”

 

“I’ll keep consuming. It’s my right as an American.”

 

“That’s Shawn talking, not you.”

 

“That’s Shawn talking, not you!” Simon repeated in a retarded voice.

 

“Right, listen to yourself. You’re just a child. Just turned sixteen right? Thinking you’re the coolest fat boy ever just cos you’re hanging around with college guys.”

 

“You’re just fucking jealous.”

 

“You’ve said that already and it wasn’t true the first time. I’m just worried that they’re taking advantage of you for their own benefit and pleasure.”

 

“I make my own choices!” Simon yelled. “I want to grow fat as fuck. I want the biggest belly in the world ever. Why the fuck do you think I chose to come here!? Why did you choose to come here if you don’t like gaining?”

 

“I do like gaining, I do want to be fatter, but camp is supposed to be about being who you want to be and body positivity. It’s about living as you wish.”

 

“What a load of pussy ass bullshit. Camp is about getting as fat as fuck as quickly as possible and that’s all I’m doing.”

 

“How did that work out for Bigby?”

 

“What?”

 

“Bigby. You remember him right? I know you only knew him for a week or so but I’d been here with him for the last two years. He tried to out gain Shawn and got dangerously close to doing so. And where is he now?”

 

“He went home sick.”

 

“Without even saying goodbye to his friends?”

 

“Maybe, he was very sick.”

 

“Maybe you’re a naive little boy whose belly’s getting too big for his boots.”

 

“You’re paranoid.”

 

“I don’t think so. Shawn is just about running this place now and that ain’t by chance. He’s a lot more like David Dolittle than he realises.”

 

“He’s fatter than him!”

 

“And even more selfish!”

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Only true greed will get us to the pinnacle of obesity!”

 

“You’re confusing greed with gluttony.”

 

“You’re just fucking confused! A self-hating gainer with low self-esteem.”

 

“Look in the fucking mirror, fat boy!”

 

“I will, while I eat and jack off! Cos I love my belly and am only going to make it fatter and fatter and when I outgrow you then…then you’ll be fucking sorry!”

 

Tony knew that this hadn’t gone well. Out of arguments and ideas he trudged off back to cabin six where he comfort ate seven packs of Doritos. I fucking showed him, Simon thought, as he stamped off to Shawn’s office to tell him everything that Tony had said.

35.

Steve and Henry had just finished inspecting the newly refurbished sleeping quarters and had just gotten off a call to Harry, who was in the last week of his vacation, when Jake came thumping into the room. It was now late July and over ninety degrees out. Jake was perspiring heavily. Too warm to wear a t-shirt, sweat dripped down his doughy chest and ran over the circumference of his wide, round, and now low-hanging belly. His face was flushed and he had to take several deep breaths before he could gather the energy to speak.

 

“It worked,” he said.

 

“Really?” Steve said.

 

“It did?” Henry asked.

 

“Yeah, Bob Bindley took him away just now. The place is ours.”

 

“Not just yet, we need to call Dad first.” Henry stated calmly.

 

“Tomorrow,” Steve said, “He leaves for Europe tomorrow. We’ll call him then.”

36.

Stefan and Oliver were making out on the bed, faces smeared with melted chocolate, when Tony walked in. The young lovers paused out of politeness.

 

“Simon’s not here then?” He asked.

 

“No, gone off with Shawn again.” Stefan replied.

 

“Good, I can’t be doing with him right now.”

 

“He’s not so bad.” Oliver said.

 

“How can you say that? He hates you.”

 

“He hates my belly,” Oliver said with a smile, “That’s not the same thing.”

 

“I take it your talk with him yesterday didn’t go so well?” Stefan enquired.

 

“To put it lightly. They’ve completely brainwashed him.”

 

“Sounds like you’re worrying a lot about someone you don’t like.” Oliver said.

 

“I do like him.” Tony responded. “He’s such a green and innocent kid, a complete newb, and they’re taking advantage of him for their own perverted desires!”

 

“Perverted what?” Stefan asked with a frown.

 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. It’s not about being gay. That whole gang are psychos!”

 

“You don’t want to be a Surplus then?”

 

“A what?”

 

“That’s what they’re calling them, calling guys like us, you know in the media.” Oliver explained.

 

“That’s another thing I don’t get. This whole ASDAH campaign thing and all the promotion of gainerism online, and at colleges. Why they got to attract so much attention to us?”

 

“They make a lot of money from it.” Stefan stated.

 

“Apparently that’s why the twins came back to him.” Oliver added.

 

“I thought that was cos they’d agreed to have an open-poly relationship?” Stefan said.

 

“Well they’re certainly doing that!” Tony complained, “I just saw one of them sucking Jake off in the woods on my way back here.”

 

“Maybe we could have an open relationship?” Oliver suggested to Stefan with a playful smile. “You know, get in on some of the fun?”

 

“Maybe you’d like to lose enough weight to be able to suck your own cock?” Stefan replied, with an equally teasing smile.

 

“Can we please get back to the problem at hand?” Tony said.

 

“What exactly is the problem?” Oliver asked.

 

“Simon.” Tony said bluntly.

 

“Look dude, whether they’re taking advantage of him or not, there’s not much that we can do about it as long as he’s having fun.” Stefan pointed out.

 

“And while he keeps gaining so well he’s going to continue to have fun.” Oliver added.

 

“What if he fails? If they fail to help him, then he may become disillusioned with them?” Tony suggested.

 

“Fails at what?” Oliver asked.

 

“Don’t act like you don’t know. He’s determined to grow a bigger belly than you!”

 

“Well, that ain’t fucking happening!” Oliver stated.

 

“No way in hell, babe!” Stefan added.

37.

The week four weigh-in came around and Oliver’s determination not to be outdone was very evident. Jake and Shawn took his measurements;

 

“Oliver Twitch: 445 lbs, belly circumference, 104 inches. A gain of 30 lbs and three inches.”

 

Jake congratulated the young spheroid. Shawn remained stony silent. Amongst the mass of sweating globular youth Simon was fuming.

 

“Stefan Stevens: 342 lbs, belly circumference 60 inches. A gain of er.. only 8 lbs and er.. no inches.”

 

Shawn voiced his disappointment at Stefan but he didn’t care. He had been too busy helping Oliver to be able to focus on himself.

 

“Simon LeFont: 340 lbs, belly circumference 61 inches. A gain of 25 lbs and 2 inches. Congratulations Sexy Simon!”

 

Simon mumbled a thank you to Shawn but his thunderous face told the real story.

 

Shawn, Jake, Steve, and Henry, were all weighed and measured as well, as had now become the norm. All four had increased their girth by at least 20 to 30 lbs. Shawn now boasted a gut of 101 inches and weighed in at a new camp record of 562 lbs. Standing on stage for an hour reading out results exhausted him. Next week he would be sat on a newly purchased sofa.

 

The three cabin six boys plus Oliver left the hall and headed for breakfast. “Where the fuck is Tony?” Stefan said.

38.

At Shawn’s request Simon broke off from his friend group and went to have breakfast in the offices. Shawn was sitting in his new chair when Simon entered. He could only just make out the top of his head above the mountain of pastries and cereals that covered the large mahogany desk.

 

“Hi Sexy,” Shawn welcomed Simon with his usual greeting.

 

“Oh hey King,” Simon replied, “What’s up?”

 

“I just wanted to check that my favourite pudgy camper was alright? He didn’t look very happy about his results.”

 

“It wasn’t my result that bothered me so much, though it was down on last week, it was that dickhead Oliver. If he keeps getting bigger like that then I’m never gonna catch him!”

 

“Ah, I see,” Shawn pretended to think for a moment. “Look Sexy, I can’t discourage Oliver from gaining weight. What sort of crazy world would that be? But I think there may just be a way for you to overtake him still. It’s experimental but it’s from my friends at Yale and they’re some of the smartest gainers that I know.”

 

“Are you serious? I’d have to gain like 60 to 70 lbs a week in order to outgrow him at this rate! And there’s only four weeks of camp left. How the fuck am I supposed to do that? It’s humanly impossible to eat that much!”

 

“We thought so too, but it turns out that there is a way. One person has done it.”

 

“Really? Who?”

 

“I can’t say. Confidentiality clause. But I promise you he did it.”

 

“Confidentiality clause?”

 

“Yes, you’d have to sign an NDA, but it’s all legit, it’s run through Yale.”

 

“Hmmm, I’d love to, I really do want the biggest belly in the world but…”

 

“You can have it Simon, you can have it all. Consume as much as your heart desires for as long as it desires. Hell, you’ll even have a bigger belly than me!”

 

Shawn looked into Simon’s greedy twinkling eyes as he spoke these words of (in)sincerity. He could see the need to feed ravishing the young emo’s brain. He knew that he was going to sign. He would have signed.

 

“Look, all you need to do is sign this form and I promise you all of your fat wet dreams will come true.”

 

“It doesn’t involve anything gay, does it?”

 

Shawn smiled at Simon. “No, Sexy it doesn’t. It’s all about the gains.”

 

He knocked a pile of pastries onto the floor in order to make space on the desk for the contract and handed Simon a pen. Simon looked at the mountain of food and a tiny drop of saliva wetted his lips.

 

“Will I be able to eat all of this?” He asked thirstily.

 

“More.”

 

Simon took the pen and touched the ballpoint to the paper.

 

“Oh, and be a sweetie, sign your Dad’s name please. You’re supposed to be over eighteen.”

39.

Where the fuck was Tony? I’ll ask Jim. Where the fuck is Jim? What the fuck is going on at this camp? And who the fuck is that creepy skinny guy filming everyone? Who the fuck let a thin dude on site? I’ll ask my parents. It can’t be legal right? I don’t remember giving my permission to be filmed. Do you? I’ll ask my parents. Maybe it’s in the small print? Ok. But where the fuck is Tony? What is Shawn up to? Who cares? This place is great! I’ve gained way more than last year. Me too! Yeah, look at my overhang now! Have you seen the size of Oliver’s ass? It’s wider than he is tall! I wish my ass was that fat. My ass will be that fat. Cool, but what happened to Jim? I liked Jim. Don’t bite the hand that feeds! I’m gonna get another round of marshmallows, you want some? Is everyone here gay? Don’t be daft! There seems to be an awful lot of gay sex going on for a summer camp! Are you a homophobe? Are you a thinophobe? LOL. Where the fuck is Tony? Where the fuck is my next burger? When is the McMukbang? Are we still doing that? Look how fat my fingers are now, I struggle to type on my phone. That happened to me two years ago! Is Shawn really the fattest camper ever? Shawn’s not a fucking camper! Have you seen his latest video? Yeah, he eats like a thousand cupcakes! Don’t exaggerate. That was last weeks. BUUURRRPPPP. Who was that? Sorry Dude, too much Pepsi. All he wanted was a Pepsi! LOL. What? I don’t get it. You’re going to get it when your Mom sees how fat you are. She supports my lifestyle choices! Have you tried the Pavolva? It’s to die for! I had eight slices yesterday. Gonna have another eight today LOL. You fat fuck! LOL. No, you fat fuck! Shut the fuck up, we’re all fat fucks! I’m gonna be fatter than you! I gained 16 ls last week! Oh la de da listen to chubby chops here, he gained 16 lbs, LOL. Fuck you, you skinny bitch! You’d love to taste my sweet fat ass! I’m gonna taste some of that Pavlova. Don’t forget to add marshmallows! And a Pepsi, don’t forget, all he needs is a Pepsi! LOL. I still don’t get it? You stupid fat fuck! Who you calling fat? You look like you’ve swallowed a watermelon! Well, you look like you’ve eaten half of all of the cattle in Texas! Only half? LOL. Where is Tony? You’re so fat that your Mom’s cunt needed a c-section when you were born! You're so fat that the tide goes out when you breathe! You’re so fat that HersheyPark was forced to shut after you visited! You’re so fat that the blue whale is no longer the largest mammal to ever live! Guys. stop it, you’re making me hungry! LOL. I’m gonna get more Pavlova. Your ass is a Pavlova! I’m gonna get more chips. I’m gonna get more sticky toffee pudding. I’m gonna get more nuggets and dip. I’m gonna get more milkshake to bring all the boys to the yard! LOL, you fucking fag! I told you everyone here was gay! I’m gonna get more gays! I’d stick to the pizza, it doesn’t taste like ass! LOL. Well, I’m gonna get some more anyways. I want more chocolate sprinkles on this ice cream. I want more ice in my coke! Dude, what the fuck? You should have said, I want more coke for my ice! LOL. I just want more! Let’s all get some more. I like more, it tastes so fucking sweet!

 

It was a normal day in the dinner hall.

40.

The bloated corpse hung stiffly from the harness. Simpson had already removed the tubes and cleaned the discharge from the floor. The stench was still unbearable. It hung still and silent, floating in mid-air. The machine was silent, automatically shut down when the computer failed to receive any signals. Shawn entered with a towel wrapped around his nose and mouth. The towel had very little effect.

 

“What happened?” He asked Simpson calmly.

 

“He just couldn’t take it. Multiple organ failure.”

 

“He was too weak?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

“Let me see that data?”

 

Simpson handed a printout to Shawn. He studied the points plotted on the graph carefully.

 

“Look here,” he said, pointing to a dip in the curve. “This was last night at eight o’clock. He started to reject it at that point, right?”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s when his body started to shut down.”

 

“I don’t think so. The time of death was at three AM, that’s seven hours later. Massive organ failure is immediate, surely? He chose to reject it. He fought against it.”

 

“It’s possible,” Simpson agreed. “What do we do now?”

 

“We get rid of him, you stupid Dutch fuck!”

 

“That’s not what I meant. Shall we bring Tony in?”

 

“No. He’s even weaker. That Tiny little shit will just fight against it from the first second. We need someone who actually wants to be really fat. We need a willing participant.”

 

“Are you sure? He’s waiting in the other room? He thinks he’s waiting to talk to you.”

 

“I’ll go talk to him. Tell him that he’s being kicked out for sexual misconduct. That’ll really grind his gears!”

 

“Will that work?”

 

“Christian parents. He’ll deny it to hell but they’ll be too embarrassed to question it. Sweep it under the rug.”

 

“Then who?”

 

“Don’t worry. I know just the kid. I’ll have him here for you this afternoon so make sure that there’s no signs of…this left.”

 

“Sure, thing King.”

 

“Oh, and have you mentioned anything about this to Henry and Steve yet?”

 

“No, why?”

 

“Don’t. They think he volunteered, and this will just give them cold feet.”

 

“Jake?”

 

“Jake’s cool.”

41.

Bjorn Buntersons face flickered into life on the laptop. He was perched on the end of a bed in a London hotel room.

 

“Hi Dad, Are you having a good trip?” Steve asked him.

 

“It’s business and I’m busy. So not that I don’t wanna talk to you but can you please make this quick?”

 

“Sure thing! Did you get my email?”

 

“Yes, Jim’s arrest warrant. What the hell happened?”

 

“This friend of Shawn’s came on site and started nosing around. He’s the YouTuber…”

 

“I’ve had the misfortune of meeting him.”

 

“Well, at first he was asking innocent questions about Shawn and the camp and what happened three years ago, but then he got onto the part about David being tied to the stake and Shawn trying to burn him to death…”

 

“I see..”

 

“We decided that we couldn’t take any chances. You invested too much. So, we made an executive decision as you were out of town.”

 

“Choose your words carefully now, son.”

 

“JIm was a responsible adult on site at the time. He allowed a violent uprising. He failed totally in his legal requirements to safeguard all of the minors under his authority. He drinks at work and already had a blemish on his records.”

 

“So he was arrested for failure to protect children under his care?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s not a criminal offence and there are no private prosecutions under state law in Indiana.”

 

“I know Dad, but he’s a registered resident in Idaho, at his Mom’s house. Wikipedia states that Ohio allows private citizens to file criminal complaints to a magistrate; the magistrate can issue an arrest warrant upon satisfaction that a crime has occurred.”

 

“Son, why do I pay for you to attend Yale Law School? I promise you it’s not so you can quote fucking wikipedia at me! The alleged offence took place in Indiana. You’ll never get it to stick.”

 

“It doesn’t need to. The fact that we tried to deal with it professionally and his removal from our employment should be enough right? If any such thing was to become public?”

 

“His removal was delayed by three years!”

 

“Under the old management. We acted as soon as the allegations came to light.”

 

“Ok, but I can’t take on a prosecution that is doomed to failure. I’ll get Dave to look into it for you.”

 

“Thanks Dad!”

 

“I’m not finished! This extremely presumptuous action was a massive risk. I’m tied up here for the next four weeks which leaves only you, your brother, and Shawn in charge of the camp. Are you aware of what a precarious situation that is?”

 

“Yes Dad, we won’t let you down.”

 

“You do everything by the book and I mean everything! And Steve…”

 

“Yes, Dad?”

 

“Shawn is your boyfriend so he is your responsibility. If you can’t control him then it will be on you and Henry. $700,000 is a lot to recoup.”

 

“Yes, Dad.”

 

“Not putting two sons through an Ivy League college for five years would go a long way towards doing that. You get my drift?”

 

“Daaad?”

 

“You made this decision. You deal with the consequences.”

 

“Yes, Dad.”

 

“And get that fucking little pervert with the camcorder out of my camp immediately!”

 

“Yes, Dad.”

42.

Simon was nervous. It hadn’t occurred to him that he would be placed in a room by himself for an entire week. In truth it was only just occurring to him that he had no idea what he was agreeing to. He wiped his palms on the sides of his stretched-out  3XL Funeral for a Gainer t-shirt as Simpson explained the machine to him. It sounded horrendous. He had enjoyed the effects of the funnel feeding sessions but he never really enjoyed the feeding process itself. Being tied up caused him to panic and although he loved feeling his belly swell, there was something about not being able to savour and taste all of the food that he was consuming that took something away from the experience for him. Simpson noticed his hesitancy and took him over to the vat. He opened a small hatch and the smell of warm beef wafted up Simon’s greedy nostrils. It smelled delicious. His giant pot belly rumbled and he began to salivate.

 

“Imagine all of that and more in your belly.” Simpson said.

 

The dopamine that the smell of boiling cow fat released in his brain betrayed his intuition. He followed his growling bulging pot belly to the harness and was strapped in.

43.

“I’m not fucking getting rid of Jeremy!” Shawn yelled.

 

Him, Henry, Jake, and Steve, were sat in the office having a management conference.

 

“Shawn, he has to go. Our Dad insisted on it.” Henry said.

 

“I don’t have to do as he tells me anymore. He doesn’t own me!”

 

“But, he owns the camp!” Steve insisted.

 

“And he’s right,” Jake added, “Having someone film so much of what goes on here is a risk.”

 

“And what goes on here!?” Shawn demanded to know. “We take care of our campers! They’re all having the time of their lives!”

 

No one dared mention the sixteen year old boy only fifty feet away hanging naked from the ceiling with a pipe down his throat and another one up his ass. He wept quietly while a bucket below him collected the piss that leaked slowly from his dangling penis.

 

“This place has always been controversial. You know that, Shawn. The locals tolerate it as some kind of freak show. You remember how they treated us when we were campers and went out shopping etc.?”

 

“That’s why we need the publicity! The whole plan revolves around publicity! You all know that! Jeremy is our director and editor. He brings in ten times what I pay him!”

 

“How much is a mouthful of your cum worth?” Jake joked. None of the others laughed.

 

“We know that the online content is a very important revenue stream and we don’t want that to stop, but you wouldn’t be the first influencer to take a break for a month. You know, often, after people come back from a break, their subscriptions rise significantly.” Steve argued.

 

“That’s what I was about to say,” Henry added.

 

Shawn thought about this for a moment. “OK, but before he goes there’s one last thing I want him to film tomorrow.”

 

“What is it?” Jake asked.

 

“I have a special surprise for you all. It’s gonna be great fun!!”

 

“Does it involve the campers?” Steve and Henry asked in unison.

 

“No. No campers. Just us and some old friends.”

 

“How many friends?” Jake asked, “I’m not so sure about inviting too many people on site at the moment.”

 

“Just a few,” Shawn smiled. “And anyway there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

 

“That’s not a theory I want to test,” Said Henry.

 

“No. Let's not test that," said Steve.

44.

The channel 14 news van pulled up to the camp gates at seven AM. Brianna Button climbed out of the back, straightened out her dress and made her way to reception. Counsellor Carl tried to remain calm despite his inward feeling of imminent death. He went and woke Jake up. He knew that Shawn and the twins had been up eating and fucking till five, as he had been forced to endure the noises coming through the wall all night.

 

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” Jake asked very politely, for an unshowered hungover glutton.

 

“I’d like to ask a management representative some questions about the death of a boy in your care last week?”

 

Jake pulled at the bottom of his unironed best shirt that he hadn’t worn for six months. Tucking it in was never going to happen. Brianna Button looked down at his fat fidgety hands as they desperately tried to pull the tight bits of cloth together in order to cover at least a fraction of his humongous overhanging belly. He noticed her line of sight and spoke in an attempt to distract her.

 

“A death you say?”

 

“Yes, you are aware, aren't you, that a boy in your care, a seventeen year old by the name of Ben Bigby, died at this camp last week?”

 

“Why yes, young Master Bigby, a terrible tragedy.”

 

Jake was unaware that he was speaking like English Johnny. He was just trying to sound mature and competent. Brianna Button frowned at him which caused him to mumble under his breath and unconsciously grab a glazed donut from the reception desk. He jammed it into his mouth and felt the immediate release of stress. Crumbs fell down his triple chin as he spoke again.

 

“I am unaware as to why a matter as trivial as this would inconvenience your good self?”

 

“Why are you speaking like that?” She asked him.

 

“I am unaware as to how you perceive that I am speaking.” He retorted before stuffing another glazed donut into his mouth. This one had strawberry cream.

 

“Whatever. So you consider the death of a minor under your legal care to be a trivial matter?”

 

“I said no such thing!”

 

“Yes, you did! Right now! Don’t bullshit me lardass! There’s something very sus going on here!”

 

“Did you happen upon to make a recording of me saying what you perceive that I said?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I didn’t fucking say it!” Jake spat donut crumbs in Brianna’s face as he suddenly dropped all of the pretension. How did adults go around the world behaving like this? It was exhausting!

 

“Urgh!” She groaned, “Can I please speak to a management representative?”

 

“I am management!”

 

“You’re fucking kidding me, right? You? An eighteen ton sack of shit? You? You’re in charge here?”

 

“I didn’t say I was in charge. I said I was a part of management. Bitch!”

 

“What did you just fucking call me? I want to speak to your manager!”

 

“He’s fucking asleep, Karen! So you fucking can’t!”

 

“He’s too busy sleeping to deal with a reporter's questions about the death of a child?”

 

“Yes! He’s been up fucking ass all night! God, give him a break!”

 

Brianna was stunned. This was going to be her big break. A story like this could get her a job at a national.

 

“You claim to be a reporter?”

 

“I am a reporter,” she sighed, “with Channel 14 news.”

 

“Then where are the cameras then? Tell me that? If your a reporter where’s your fucking camera man?”

 

“Still in the van,” she lied, as she pointed at the liveried news van parked outside the window.

 

“Oh Fuck!” Jake exclaimed, “I’ll go get Shawn.”

 

“Is he the manager?”

 

“No, he’s not the manager. He’s the fucking king!”

 

Brianna didn’t know how to pull an expression that expressed more surprise so she just stood eyes and mouth wide open waiting for her audience with the king.

45.

 

“Shawn! Shawn! Wake the fuck up! There’s some reporter cunt in reception and she wants to speak to you immediately about Ben Bigby! But don’t panic, I think I dealt with her well!”

46.

Stefan and Oliver would have been more concerned with the apparent Covid outbreak in their cabin, that had caused three of their campmates to disappear without trace or warning, if it hadn’t meant that they got the entire cabin to themselves. As all lovestruck teenage boys are prone to do, they jumped at the chance to spend the entire time naked, filling their fat faces, and getting each other off in more and more ingenious ways.

 

This past night they had whiled away quaffing oysters and cheeses, and shrimp, and herring, and sour cream Doritos. Their fishy farts filled the air as they drank lashes of Prosecco, supplied to them by a counsellor at a forty percent mark-up. They sucked and fucked and fucked and sucked as their bloated bellies continued to swell. After the fish they turned to meat. Sausage of the pig and sausage of the boy. They porked and poked and poked and porked until their aching bellies oinked. These they rubbed in cooking oil, their bedsheets they did soil. Huge manly hanging tits they sucked until their mouths were dry, refreshed they were with cod liver oil and more fish baked in foil. More fishy farts filled the cabin till they could barely breathe. Ass to mouth and mouth to ass till the smell did make them heave. Heave and cum and cum and heave no one could make them leave, not even the channel 14 camera man at the window at approximately 7.05 AM who filmed Oliver’s ominously huge fleshy ass farting cum directly into Stefan’s face. They were both seventeen.

 

Neither of them were poets.

47.

The emergency management conference took place in Shawn’s bedroom. The bed bent and creaked as just over 2000 lbs of boy fat sat upon it bickering and shouting at each other.

 

“How the fuck did they find out he was dead? I told you to get rid of him!”

 

“I did,” Jake said, “I phoned an ambulance and then informed his parents.”

 

“What the fuck! I meant to bury him in the woods or sink him in the lake! Have you never seen a fucking film!?”

 

“What the fuck, Shawn!!” Henry and Steve proclaimed in unison.

 

Shawn froze. Realising that he had gone too far, too soon. He smiled sweetly.

“I’m joking. Of course! Jake, you know that I’m joking right?”

 

“Er, yeah Shawn, of course. He’s joking guys.”

 

Steve and Henry eyed them both very suspiciously before the arguing continued.

 

Eventually it was decided that Shawn would make a statement. He scribbled some notes on the inside of a torn McDonald’s bag and went out to face his destiny.

 

He sat at his desk wearing nothing but cum stained boxers and a 5xl t-shirt with curry down the front of it. Brianna Button sat in the chair opposite with the camera man over her shoulder. Thankfully Steve ran in at the last minute and made Shawn put a clean shirt on.

 

Shawn read his statement. Jake, Henry, Steve, and the recently awoken Simpson stood nervously by the far wall out of view and earshot of the camera.

 

“Everyone at Camp Shawn is devastated by the tragic loss of one of our young campers and customers Benjamin Bigby. Ben was a popular and widely liked boy with a larger than life… personality. Like all of our campers he enjoyed the good things in life and lived his short life to the fullest. His death at such a tender age pains all of us, staff and campers alike. There will be a private memorial service to his memory this evening, allowing all of his friends and campmates to show their deep affection for him in the most appropriate way. We should all aim to live our lives in the way that he did, to the fullest. Thank you very much for your time.”

 

“Is that it?” Brianna asked with irritation.

 

“I have no further comment at this time.” Shawn stated patiently.

 

“You said nothing! Can you please explain to me what sort of camp you run here?”

 

“I have no further comment at this time.”

 

“Did the lifestyle that you encourage at this camp in any way play in part in the death of Ben Bigby?”

 

“I have no further comment at this time.”

 

Steve and Henry approached Shawn and whispered in his ears.

 

“I will accept a couple of questions so long as they are within reason.”

 

“Can you please explain to me what sort of camp you run here?”

 

“This is a weight management camp where all campers are free to engage in body positivity and be who they want to be.” Shawn quoted straight from the camp literature.

 

“It’s a weight gain camp, isn’t it? You encourage young boys to purposefully overeat.”

 

“I myself am an ex-attendee and as you can see I am perfectly healthy,” the 560 lb twenty year old said.

 

“What the fucks he doing?” Jake whispered to Steve.

 

“Don’t worry. He knows who his audience is. And it’s not her.”

 

“Did the lifestyle that you encourage at this camp in any way play a part in the death of Ben Bigby?”

 

“I have no reason to believe so.”

 

“What did Ben Bigby die of?”

 

“You would need to ask a doctor about that. I’m just the camp manager.”

 

“So it wasn’t multiple organ failure due to his size?”

 

“I’m not a doctor, the best I can tell you is what I heard. Natural causes.”

 

“Natural causes? He was seventeen.”

 

“It happens. You never know when your number’s up. Survival of the fattest and all that.”

 

“Fattest? Don’t you mean survival of the fittest?”

 

“I’m sure that you will mix my words so that they mean whatever you want them to mean. That’s what you journalists do.”

 

“Why is he attacking the journalist?” Simpson whispered to Henry.

 

“Dude, haven’t you watched any American politics in the last decade?”

 

“So you don’t think that supplying children with unlimited amounts of food all day and night is in any way an irresponsible thing to do?”

 

“The buffet is a great American tradition. It represents the freedom of choice that this country was founded on. God bless America!”

 

“I’m starting to think that you’re not taking me seriously? You do know that a boy has died?”

 

“From what I know of him, I’m certain that he died a great patron.”

 

“You mean patriot?”

 

“There you go again trying to put words into my mouth!”

 

“I put it to you Mr…er…Stringer, that you and the other people involved in running this camp killed this boy by putting too many things into his mouth! Is this not true?”

 

“It certainly is not. Like all of our campers, Ben had the right to put whatever he wanted into his mouth.” Shawn couldn’t help but smirk as he said this. “It’s every fat boy’s right!”

 

“So you admit that this is a camp that fattens up teenage boys? Fattens them to the point of death?”

 

“Look bitch, this camp has been successfully operating for over twenty years, longer than I have been alive. In that time it has taken in one and a half thousand campers. The vast majority of whom have left very happy and satisfied. I admit that this place is not for everybody, we have a very discerning clientele who appreciate our services. Our boys leave here with extremely full and satisfied bellies feeling extremely positive about themselves. The only thing we feed them is self worth. Did you know that out of every hundred thousand Americans two hundred and sixty five nine die in their teens. That’s just a fact. Based on the numbers of attendees we’ve had at the camp the death of a camper is not so much an anomaly as it is statistical certainty. Some people die. Get over it.”

 

“That doesn’t add up. That literally doesn’t add up.” Simpson whispered to Steve.

 

“Most Americans don’t go to Yale, dude. They don’t check or care about statistics. They believe what they already want to believe. Shawn just sold this camp to millions of young potential Surplus. Believe it or not this is going to make us all rich.”

 

“All publicity is good publicity.” Henry whispered.

48.

Harry and thirty six other YGS members turned up at the camp two hours after the news crew left. Shawn closed the restaurant for the evening, due to a private function, and seconded all of the campers to the cabins early allowing him and his friends to feast and party till they felt like they would explode. He was determined to put on the biggest fat frat party ever.

 

The sheer amount of food and booze to be consumed at first appeared to be insurmountable, but surmount it they did. Fifteen courses filled every jock’s greedy gallonous gut. At the height of the festivities Shawn made a toast and announced that their youth movement was soon going to grow to be the biggest America had seen in decades. They all cheered rapturously. He then announced that they had a special new pledge who was ready for hazing and led them all to the newly renovated sleeping quarters.

 

Simon was half asleep and half passed out. His body and mind were exhausted. He had been connected for three days now and Shawn proudly showed the read outs to the boisterous group of horny obese young men. In three days Simon had gained 45 lbs in pure fat. The majority of it, as per his metabolism, had found its way to his low hanging pot belly. This was measured and recorded as being 68 inches. Simon now weighed 385 lbs. A 385 lb limp semiconscious fat ball waiting unknowingly for what was coming next. Had he been able to comprehend what was happening around him then he would have been overjoyed to hear that he had gained 100 lbs since starting camp just over a month earlier. Shawn was overcome with excitement. The cute sexy boy's skin was so soft and smooth to the touch. He ran his fat fingers all over Simon’s massively extended belly. The belly that Shawn had put so much work into. He walked around to the front and desperately wanted to kiss Simon on the mouth but he wasn’t prepared to remove the feeding tube so instead he just bit down hard on Simon’s lower lip drawing blood. Harry appeared next to him and looked into Simon’s soft glazed eyes. His mascara was stained and ran down his chubby cheeks due to his now dried up tears.

 

“He’s a bit young, isn’t he?” He commented.

 

“He’s fucking beautiful!” Shawn said.

 

“Yeah he is.” Harry agreed.

 

“Me first.” Shawn said loudly to make sure that everyone in the group heard him. “But everyone gets a turn. I insist.”

 

Shawn dropped his pants around his ankles and waddled closer to Simon’s ass. It was so round and pert. Shawn grabbed it and took joy in how luxuriously thick and soft it was. He pulled the pipe out from Simon’s hole with a sharp yank and let it drop to the floor. Simon’s buttocks twinged. Good he’s conscious, Shawn thought. He looked straight into his tight little virgin buttonhole. It was the cleanest that he had ever seen. Three days of having the shit vacuumed directly out of his overworked bowels had left Simon’s asshole sparkling like a diamond glass in a dishwasher advert. Shawn spat on it and forced himself in. It was the tightest fat ass that he had ever felt. It gripped his shaft and he dug his fingers deep into Simon’s ass fat as he began to pound away. His ginormous belly rested on top of Simon’s twin globes. The monster’s belly weighed almost as much in itself as Simon did and Simon felt like it was enveloping him whole. No one noticed the water reforming at Simon’s tear ducts. They were having way too much fun for that. Shawn only lasted a few minutes but it was close to the best few minutes of his life. He came so forcefully that he thought that he could feel his cum pushing the pulverised cow fat back up into Simon’s digestive system. It was fucking glorious. Simon’s brain breathed, the nightmare was over.

 

Henry was up next and he rode Simon’s not so virgin ass for a good fifteen minutes. Steve followed and did exactly the same. Jake wore his Tiger onesie and growled like a wild beast as he drew the first anal blood whilst digging his huge paws into the sides of Simon’s badly distended belly.

 

In total forty frenzied wild boys took Simon, till in the end his ass was ripped as wide open as a sought after Christmas present. Death couldn’t come soon enough.

 

None of the camp management team thought to check online or watch the evening news. They were all too drunk, too stuffed, and too busy enjoying gang raping young emo Simon LeFont, aged sixteen and thirty two days.

 

And 100 lbs heavier than before he had met any of them. Shawn had made his dream come true.

49.

Oliver and Stefan held each other firmly. Tears ran down their fat faces and they wailed in tandem, their cries echoing out from a hole deep within that neither of them had previously known about. They felt so empty. From the neighbouring Chicago suburbs of Glencoe and Winnetka the teen lovers had met at camp despite living only a few miles away from each other. Both boys' houses afforded views of Lake Michigan and their parents afforded them an allowance that easily allowed for constant Ubers to and from each other’s homes. They were not the type of boys to cycle. Nothing in their lives had been hard, so nothing had prepared them for this - the death of a friend.

 

Stefan had been the one to see it first, in a Snap. The shock hit him so hard that he almost choked on his Froot Loops, spitting them out all over the bed sheets. Oliver mistaking this for a game had started to snuffle up the cereal like a truffle hog when Stefan had screamed at him to stop. Only then did Oliver realise the seriousness of the situation.

 

So they held each other and cried and asked why oh why!? Without ever thinking to ask how? It never occurred to them that any nefarious activities could have been at play, and just like they would many times in later life, after the death of a friend, they buried deep in their bowels the question of whether his obesity could have contributed to his early demise. The mental gymnastics that the Surplus would come to perform with regards to gaining, obesity and health, would even begin to concern the good citizens at ASDAH. But for now the boys just cried till they were dry, like the children that they really were, before deciding to go for lunch and eat more than they ever had before in their friend’s memory. It was, afterall, what Ben Bigby would have wanted.

50.

It was now six thirty am and Shawn had waited for everyone else to leave the room before reapproaching Simon. He gently stroked his hair and kissed him on his heavily perspiring forehead. He began to whisper sweetly;

 

“Beautiful sexy Simon. How I do love you so. You’re my special boy, my special project. Please don’t say anything to the others, especially not Steve and Henry but you’re the one. You’re the one my heart aches for. I’m gonna make sure that you’re treated right. I’ll help you to achieve your dream Simon. You're the only one who will be allowed to grow fatter than me. Your belly is just so perfect. It is going to be the biggest, roundest belly in the world. I promise you Sexy Simon. My love for you is unending. This machine, this vat of homogenised cow fat, this is just the start. You and me Simon, we’re going to consume every cow on this planet and then when there are no more cows left to eat, we’ll eat the horses. Imagine the joy Simon, the sheer pleasure of knowing that you’ve eaten every single thing that there is to eat?”

 

Shawn wiped a large tear away from Simon’s gorgeous left eye with his fat forefinger. He then sucked the water off and savoured the salty taste with his unendingly greedy tongue, before continuing;

 

“I thought I was in love with the twins but I wasn’t. I was young and had never experienced true love. Not like the love that I have for you. We’re going to grow bigger than the world and once we’ve consumed all the life from this planet we will move on to the next. I’m going to take you to the stars, Sexy Simon. Come let me share in your joy?”

 

Shawn pulled the feeding tube out of Simon’s mouth. Simon screamed in pain as blood and vomit emptied out of his throat. Shawn placed the tube into his own mouth, Simon’s bodily fluids acted as a lubricant allowing the pipe to slide effortlessly down. He sucked hard and felt the sweet beef fat drop into his jam packed stomach. He moaned loudly as his cock rehardened. The gastral pleasure was so fucking fantastic. He gulped and gulped and watched his belly swell.

 

When he was satisfied he removed the tube and went to reinsert it into Simon’s sweet Sexy face. A sweet sexy face now stained with blood, vomit, and tears. Shawn stuck out his thick tongue and began to lick the gruesome mixture off of one of Simon’s deliciously chubby cheeks. As his ear moved close to the edge of Simon’s lips he heard the faintest of soft voices weakly murmur, “I fucking hate you.”

 

“Awww my babe! I’m sorry I took your tube. I didn’t mean to upset you! Here, have your sustenance back, I know how it sustains you. Let me show you my love in the best way that I know how.”

 

With a big kiss on the lips, Shawn rammed the tube back down Simon’s throat causing his whole body to convulse in shock. He smiled the happiest smile as he watched all of the fresh young fat shake and wobble. He needed to have his one true love again. He needed to have him now.

 

Simon’s hole felt very different this time. Wide, slushy and gaping. There was little to no friction as his torn ass was still bleeding profusely. Shawn’s dick juices mixed with the blood and now stale cum of so many other fat boys. The forty first cock to enter the straight boy that night. Simon’s was the filthiest hole he had ever seen. Liquid shit dribbled out along the lower edge of the torn underside. With no pipe to remove it and the constant stream of rich fat entering at the top end, Simon’s watery excrement was free to trickle out and dribble onto the floor. Shawn rubbed his dick around in it. He mixed the brown, red, and white into a new disgusting colour all of his own making. He stuck his hand in alongside his cock, there was plenty of room now, and started feeling the inside of Simon’s anus. It was soft and lumpy and full of his liquidy mess. Shawn withdrew his hand and licked at his fat palm. Somewhere deep down he must have known that it tasted awful but in that moment it was the sweetest thing that he had ever eaten. He pulled out his cock and dropped to his knees. He buried his face deep inside Simon’s sweet youthful buttcheeks and dug his tongue deep into the glorious mess. He ate, and swallowed, as much as he could before using all the strength he had in the world to get back to his feet and reinsert his dick. Despite it being so loose and sloppy it somehow felt even better than stealing Simon’s virginity had done a several hours previously. He listened to Simon sniffle and cry. The emo boy was whining beautifully now, air whistling through the gaps between the feeding tube and his teeth. Shawn could hear him breathing in through his piggy little nose. He began to thrust harder, the slapping of his immense thighs against Simon’s soft rounded out ass became more and more distinct. He knew that Simon was crying, he knew that Simon hated him. He knew that the love of his life was praying for a quick and merciful death. It wasn’t even that he wanted to hurt Simon. He just didn’t care about him. The straight gluttonus spherically fat young emo boy felt so fucking good on the end of his dick and that was all that mattered. He would feel so good inside his belly. Shawn’s balls exploded, firing a gallon of semen deep into Simon’s belly. Sweet Sexy Simon’s sweet swelling bulging belly. It was going to grow so gloriously fat.

 

Shawn couldn’t wait to find out how different fucking Simon would feel after another 100lbs.

51.

Channel 14 couldn’t actually show the video of Stefan and Oliver fucking on TV so they did what any serious news organisation with high journalistic integrity would do: they leaked it online and then reported it as an exclusive before any other source was able to pick up on the story. Their evening bulletin led with the story of Ben Bigby’s death, added to the controversy by describing the underage food play sex video, followed by the interview with Shawn. Within an hour CNN, MSNBC, and Fox were running the story. The next morning it was picked up by the BBC and spread around the world. None of the camps ‘management team’ saw it. All of the campers saw it. Jake woke up to sixteen missed calls from English Johnny. Steve and Henry woke up to thirty eight missed calls from their Dad.

 

Shawn woke up to Oliver and Stefan banging on his door screaming about an unfulfilled promise to hold a remembrance ceremony.

 

The government inspector turned up at eleven.

52.

It was the busiest day of Shawn’s life. He charged Oliver and Stefan with setting up the camper-led vigil of remembrance. He had no choice as all the adults were far too busy with important things. Henry and Steve spent the entire day talking their Dad out of flying to Chicago directly. This had taken real effort and had only resulted in them delaying his inevitable rage filled return by a week. It had at least bought them some time. Jake spent the day on reception fighting off media requests and Simpson spent the day locked in with Simon. He sat opposite the only door to the room holding a pistol while the machine continued to pump hydrogenated cow fat into the flying emo balloon. All of the YGS boys and Jeremy had thankfully been kicked off site at around nine, as soon as Shawn found out about the twenty four hour news cycle being dedicated to him. This gave him time to take breakfast before the inspector arrived.

 

For his part Shawn was very accommodating. He drove the inspector around the camp on a golf buggy, the steering wheel of which rubbed against his gut as he turned it. He explained to her the entire ethos and history of the camp. He talked about someone DoLittle and his libertarian beliefs, he talked about the right to life, liberty, and happiness. For the most part the inspector looked disinterested in what he had to say but he kept at it like a true professional. She took notes on her phone every time they passed a group of fat teen boys, whether they were on their way to the lunch hall, on their way back, or just lying around snacking. She looked actively impressed by the restaurant and the standard of the cuisine on offer. She even commented to Shawn on how happy the campers appeared considering the loss that they had only recently experienced. Shawn pointed out that those who had known Ben best were busy planning a vigil for that evening and that it was good that they had a positive activity to focus on. The inspector agreed.

 

She spent the afternoon interviewing a small group of campers about their experience of the camp. These were randomly selected but Shawn was confident that they would only say positive things. He knew from his own experience of camp what a wonderful place it was from the campers perspective. Where else could a greedy fat boy indulge himself so freely? He was correct in his assertion that every camper there would defend him.

 

“There is no more sex at this camp than anywhere where you would have large groups of teenagers. In fact there’s probably less.”

 

“No, this is not a feeder camp. It just has an all you can eat dining hall. Like most colleges, right?”

 

“Just because some pervert filmed two gays at it doesn’t mean we’re all at it.”

 

“No one has ever encouraged me to eat more than I want to.”

 

“It’s an all boys camp. So there’s very little sex. There’s no girls here!”

 

“Gay kids? Well, maybe. Maybe they’re attracted to an all boys camp? Are you suggesting that there’s something wrong with that?”

 

“Do I like being fat? That’s a very rude question. I like being me.”

 

“The counsellors here are great. Very friendly and supportive.”

 

Not one of the campers said a single word against the camp. Not one of them agreed that the aim was to gain weight. No one mentioned the weigh-ins or the competitive eating contests. Teenagers are not stupid, they know what’s good for them and have a natural distaste for authority. The inspector said that she would have her report for Shawn ready by the morning. She didn’t bother to hang around for Ben Bigby’s ceremony of remembrance.

 

The ceremony took place by the lake. Every camper was given a candle and placed it in their 18” x 13” sheet cake. These were all double chocolate and fudge, Bigby’s favourite. The candles were lit just as the sun went down and almost two hundred young bellies rumbled as they were forced to sit and listen to Stefan and Oliver whittle on about how great Ben was for what felt like forever. Eventually they were allowed to dig in and Ben Bigby’s memory was honoured by scores and scores of fat full bursting young bellies gurgling and growling with pleasure as they strained the waistbands on their elasticated shorts by scoffing down every crumb of every single cake.

 

Shawn ate two cakes. He’d had a very stressful day and it wasn’t his fault that Jake wasn’t present due to being stuck on the phone for hours to Simon’s concerned parents.

53.

“I assure you that Simon is fine. I know you want to talk to him but he doesn’t want to talk to you.” This was actually a genius lie that Jake had come up with. Any other cover up such as claiming that he was ill would only have made them even more nervous and increased the chances of them turning up at camp in person.

 

“I understand that you are angry at him, I get that he deceived you, but that’s probably why he doesn’t dare talk to you right now. Give him some space and time and I’m sure that he will call.” Jake had repeated this line at least five times.

 

“No, we are not a gainer camp. We are a weight management camp. I’ve said this already. We only encourage our campers to be who they want to be. It’s their body. All we do is create a safe space for them to be able to do this.”

 

Jake could tell that they were not convinced, however, they freely admitted that flights were expensive so he knew that they didn’t want to pay to come.

 

“I promise you Simon will leave here happier than he has ever been. Give him the space to be himself. I’m sure that he will explain everything and will apologise to you if necessary. Yes, thank you. Goodnight!”

54.

The state government report wasn’t half as bad as Henry and Steve had feared. “A lack of experienced leaders onsite.” Not a legal requirement and something that they could easily fix for next year. Bob Bindley probably needed the cash. “A lack of sports and exercise equipment and organised healthy activities.” Again not a legal requirement. Buy a few softballs and bats. No one said that they ever had to use them. The next one really annoyed Shawn, “Not supplying the correct amount of fruit and vegetables at meal times as per state requirements of three portions per day (one portion = 100 grams).” An easy fix again according to Steve and Henry who were not by their nature against fruit and vegetables - they loved all food. The inspector made no mention of Ben Bigby’s death as this was out of her remit. In truth the state of Indiana had very little power to oversee such camps. Unbeknown to anyone at the camp the Bigby family was already finalising their separate legal case. As for sexual activity the inspector noted that despite the concerning nature of the video that had come to light there was no evidence that such practices were widespread. She recommended a post-summer visit with management to discuss the suggested improvements to the camp.

 

“What a fucking cunt faced bitch!” Shawn said.

 

“Chill out babe,” Henry said. “Yeah chill babe,” Steve continued, “We don’t even have to wait for the end of summer to implement some of this and it won’t have any negative effect on the camp or campers.”

 

“Or our aims,” added Henry reassuringly.

55.

Things calmed down on site and camp started to return to normal. The media were kept far away and security was hired for the front gate just in case any nosy reporter felt like making an unannounced visit. Under the orders of Bjorn Buntersson, Shawn and everyone else from the camp was banned from putting any public information out. This irritated Shawn but he had already worked out that he could afford a one month break from his social media activities. He placated himself by focusing on his own growth and checking in on Sexy Simon twice a day.

 

A bucket with three softball bats and six tennis balls appeared by the lake. No one noticed it. The weekly weigh-ins continued and the camp continued to grow. Shawn even worked out what to do about the damn new fruit and veg regulation.

 

To the bemusement of the campers Shawn announced that a special healthy eating activity was to take place that Thursday evening by the lake. Attendance was compulsory. As was swimwear. A handful of the campers worried that Shawn had gone insane but the majority knew better. It was some kind of trick or joke. It had to be?

 

A temporary above ground swimming pool, of the kind that you find in people's back gardens, had been set up. The campers waddled up to it peering over the five foot high walls half expecting it to be filled with water. It wasn’t, it was filled with fruit. Freshly peeled sliced and prepared fruit of all sorts. Apples, bananas, kiwis, orangers, strawberries, raspberries, and grapes just to name a few. “It’s a giant fruit salad!”

 

“Ewww!” said one particularly rotund camper disgusted by the thought of so many vitamins.

 

“My worst nightmare,” said another, “Fruit and salad. The two worst words in the history of the English language!”

 

Others were more intrigued and couldn’t help themselves but dip a greedy hand in to grab a sweet mouthful of juicy natural sugars.

 

“Stop that!” Jake yelled at them. “Not yet!”

 

The crowd of campers settled down and waited for Shawn to address them.

 

“As some of you may be aware after a recent inspection we have been ordered to ensure that everyone of you receives three portions of fruit and/or vegetables every day.” Shawn paused to allow the campers to boo.

 

“Like yourselves I feel that this is an imposition on your liberty so I’ve come up with the best solution that I could. No one has said that the portions have to be spread out so in the spirit of camp I’ve decided that you should all eat the next three and a half weeks portions in one sitting.”

 

The fat campers looked horrified. They stared at him in disbelief, then they stared at each other, then they stared at the swimming pool of fruit. One boy started retching as if he was going to be sick. Was he serious? Fruit? What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Oliver, feeling brave spoke out, “Fuck you Shawn! I’m not eating that shit!” A few campers nervously cheered. All eyes fixated on Shawn waiting to see how he would respond to such a direct challenge to his authority. They were surprised by his calmness.

 

“Then you won’t fucking get any, Oliver Twitch!”

 

“Bring in the sugar!” He yelled.

 

Counsellor Carl hauled five sacks of pure white sugar up to the side of the swimming pool. Him, Steve and Henry began to pour and mix them in. They added fifty 4lb bags in total.

 

Some of the campers started to smile as the realisation of where this was going came over them. Next came the jello, followed by the cream, and ice cream. The latter of the two was poured in from what looked like a cement mixing truck. The boy's bellies howled in anticipation. The majority of them already stuffed from their recent dinners knew that this was going to push them all to the next level of fatness. Shawn was a genius. Oliver Twitch began to cry. He knew that Shawn meant what he said. He would have to sit this feast out. What a fool he had been to doubt the king!

 

The campers rubbed their bellies and nudged each other's fat sides with their flabby elbows. Thousands and thousands of pounds of young fat jiggled with anticipation. The crowd was full of lustful chatter. Jake came around and handed everyone a big wooden spoon, all staff and counsellors included.

 

Jake motioned for silence so that Shawn could speak again.

 

“According to our calculations if we all can finish this trifle between us then everyone here will have had twice their required ration of fruit! No one will have to eat a single vegetable for the rest of camp! I expect you to finish every drop, boys!”

 

Cries of “We will!” and “Yes, Sir!” rang out.

 

The crowd heaved forwards, pushing, and pulling at each other in order to get to the ginormous desert first. Greedy boys dug their spoons and hands into the thick creamy mess and shoved as much into their gaping mouths as they could before an even fatter boy managed to ram them out of the way. Only about forty fat boys out of the near two hundred actually fitted around the pool. Some quickly gave up on the spoons and dunked their arms deep into the sweet delicious delicacy in order to gather up as much as possible. The melting ice cream dripped down their double chins onto their soft plush chests and bulging bellies. Some boys rubbed their hands over their friends' bloated bulks in order to steal some of their portion. Stefan, as impatient as ever to fill his always hungry gut, dunked his head over the side and deep down into the trifle. He opened his mouth like a whale feeding on a shoal and allowed his throat to fill till he was literally drowning in it. His whole system from stomach bag to lips was jammed full of trifle. He was in heaven. He felt his feet lift from the floor and felt almost weightless for a second before his thick heavy legs plunged into the pool. He fought to correct his stature, so that his feet were once again beneath him, and raised his cream covered head through the surface of the trifle just in time to see dozens of fat delirious boys jumping in from the sides to join him.

 

Cream, ice cream, and jelly splashed everywhere. Shawn felt it sliding into the folds between his moobs and first tire roll. It slid through his armpits, into his naval, and down into his swimming shorts. Like many of the campers he just started opening his mouth and swallowing as much of the creamy surface as he could. The pool was soon so full of fat boys that it would have been in danger of overflowing and wasting prescious succulent calories, which would have fallen to the ground, had it not been for the army of gluttonous gainers still surrounding the pool working as hard as they could to consume it all. The younger boys started to wrestle in the mess as they ate the sticky pudding off each other's soft flabby arms and necks. The burping soon started and added to the chorus of joyous shouts and screams. Some of the first in the pool were starting to look queasy and it was clear from sight and touch that some of the boys’ bellies were already jammed full. As soon as a fat boy was deemed by his peers to have eaten enough he was pulled, usually kicking and screaming against his will, out of the pool so that another fat boy could take his place. It was a real chaotic feeding frenzy, perfect fat boy teenage anarchy. And it went on for ages.

 

Some of the boys like Stefan and Oliver couldn’t help themselves but get excited. Oliver had noticed a while ago that Shawn was far too busy filling his own gut and getting jacked off by Henry under the trifle to care or notice what he did so he’d, fairly enough, decided to join in the fun. Him and Stefan were now rolling around on the floor, swollen full of trifle and covered in cream with their swim shorts around their fat ankles. They kissed and laughed as their bulging bellies bounded into each other. Steve and Jake were also getting ready to bump ass and belly at the side of the pool which only seemed to encourage some of the other campers to become more experimental in the way that they played with each other. Many continued to eat as the pool was slowly but surely sucked dry. Plenty of the campers retired to their cabins to clean up, however, a good deal of them stayed around by the lake. The gay ones enjoying each other’s bellies and other body parts, while some straight ones just lay on the grass on their backs, swollen bellies in the air, burping and farting, relieving themselves, dreaming about the girls that they were going to impress with their new found gluttony. They were all so full, they were all so fat. As the evening sun went down over the lake the cream flowed freely for the second time that night.

 

Fat camp had always been fun but under Shawn it was fucking awesome! “No one encourages us to eat more than we want and there is no more sexual activity than would be normal,” they had told the inspector. The genius of Shawn’s leadership was that everyone was complicit in the crime.

56.

Johnny Jones’ microphone had slid down inside his shirt, he was sweating profusely under the studio lights and the man behind the cameras was counting down with his fingers as they prepared to cut back to the studio from the VT. It was the BBC Breakfast presenter who noticed the lack of mic on her guest:

 

“He’s got no fucking mic!” She shouted out in no particular person's direction.

 

Johnny was confused. He had a distinct memory of being mic’d up by the nice young assistant only ten minutes earlier. This was the same assistant who had looked at him funny when he asked if they were going to give him any make-up. Johnny had been on TV only once before, on a Children’s BBC game show, and on that occasion he had been taken into make-up in order to have his face powdered. Knowing that he was sun-burned he feared his face glowing like a tomato on national TV. The assistant gave him a look that said, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” so he didn’t press the matter any further.

 

Glowing like a fat oversized beetroot he was now sweating on the sofa with his thick right hand stuffed down his best 3XL shirt rummaging in his folds for the lost microphone. The presenter smiled calmly down the camera and filled the extra seconds necessary by commenting herself on the report from Indiana that the viewers at home had just been shown. “With me now is Jonathan Jones from Buckighamshire, Johnny is a student at Oxford and member of their now notorious gaining society. He is also an ex-attendee at the camp in question. Welcome to BBC Breakfast, Johnny.”

 

Johnny, still fiddling with his recovered microphone, looked up almost in surprise as camera two swung to face him. He smiled, and said; “Thank you, Janine. It’s a pleasure to be here.” His thick hand dropping down by his side exposing the gap in his shirt where he’d broken off two buttons by thrusting his arm in. This had the unintended but beneficial effect of making him look even fatter than he was. A diamond shaped layer of belly fat bulged out of his tight shirt as the fabric stretched around his expanded belly and midriff. He had clear man breasts that were now soaked in sweat from the studio lights that sagged down either side of his rotund stomach. His thighs bulged in his smart trousers making them appear like they would also tear open at any moment. Johnny had dressed to impress.

 

“So can you tell me Johnny, what is it actually like at the camp? Is it true that your parents sent you there to fatten you up?” This question was purposefully challenging as is the BBC’s style with serious news stories. Johnny handled it well.

 

“A mother’s first duty is to blow her boy out.”

 

“Eh?” said the bemused presenter already shaken slightly out of her stride by his odd response.

 

“It’s Dickens. From A Tale of Two Cities.” Johnny informed her.

 

“I didn’t ask you about your English degree Johnny. I asked you about the camp in Indiana. Did you go there to purposefully gain weight?”

 

“Yes, with the blessing of my Mother. As I have already said.”

 

“Do you not find that to be strange?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you understand why other people might feel that is a strange thing for your mother to do?”

 

“Why are you so obsessed with my Mother? I thought that I was here to talk about the camp?”

 

“What was it like at the camp?”

 

“It was awesome! You could eat as much as you like as often as you liked. It was a totally liberating experience compared to the nanny state that we have here in Britain. Real freedom, that’s what it was like!”

 

“Can you not eat as much as you like here in Britain then? I would have thought that you could?”

 

Johnny was thrilled by this question. He had drawn her in as planned. BBC presenters have strict impartiality rules that means that they are not allowed to pursue a particular agenda. Their job is to challenge whatever the interviewee says. Now he could freely expand into The Surplus agenda in the UK. Which was exactly what he had come to do.

 

“No. For too long now successive governments have intervened in the private lives of British citizens. Restrictive planning laws that prevent people from opening independent businesses like restaurants and takeaways. Laws on how much sugar can go into your lemonade. Rules against advertising fast food. Rules that restrict what we can eat at work, at school, and even at home! All in the name of public health! This war against our freedom to eat has to end. Ordinary people are sick to death of being told what they can and can’t do.”

 

“You want the right to be unhealthy?”

 

“That’s a sizest comment and exactly the sort of fat phobia that I would expect from the BBC. There are millions of overweight British children, many of whom will be watching right now. How do you think you make them feel when you say such things against them? That attitude is the same as the school bullies. All I want is for every British citizen, young or old, to be able to have as much Nutella on toast for Breakfast as they want!”

 

“You don’t think being overweight or even obese is unhealthy?”

 

“What’s unhealthy is the effect that your attitude and the attitude of the British government, whom you represent. It’s the effect on young people’s mental health that such body negativity has, especially on young people. Anorexia, bulimia, these are the results of the public health epidemic. We just want fat people to know that they are beautiful and have the right to live the life that they choose. And yes that includes the right to choose to be fat.”

 

“I don’t represent the government. I’m just trying to give both sides of the story. What about the death of Ben Bigby? Is that not proof of the unhealthy nature of this camp and what you are proposing?”

 

“One person dies in a world of seven billion and you try to claim that that’s somehow our fault!”

 

“He was under the care of the camp?”

 

“From my experience the camp is full of wonderful, kind, caring human beings who only want the best for every attendee. That is my experience of it and the experience of everyone I know who has attended.”

 

“I have a quote here from an attendee of this year who left the camp prematurely. His name is Tony Holmes, he said that: The camp has been taken over by sociopaths whose only wish is to see themselves grow fatter and richer at the expense of the well being of the camp attendees. What do you make of that?”

 

“I’ve never heard of him.” Johnny lied.

 

“That’s not an answer. What do you make of his assertions that the camp is run at the expense of the attendees' health?”

 

“He sounds unhinged. Gaining is a fabulous pursuit that has brought me and millions of people like me untold happiness. Why don’t you quote some of those people?”

 

“I’m afraid we’re out of time. Thank you for being with us this morning Johnny.”

 

“Thank God for that! I thought this was going to be much quicker. I’m late for my actual breakfast and I’m starving!”

 

Following the media uproar over gaining and the so-called ‘Surplus’ trend that followed the reports about the camp and Ben Bigby’s death, University Gainer Society membership in the UK rose by 70% in three weeks. The topic was trending on all top social media platforms and memberships of online gainer communities grew by 180%. Shawn’s channels gained 2.1 million UK followers. A few of whom were claiming to do so ironically.

57.

Bjorn Bunterson’s calm exterior belayed the anger that was growing inside of him. He sat barrel belly sticking out in a chair opposite Shawn’s desk. His sons, as well as Jake and Simpson stood, legs and ankles aching, around the sides of the desk, wondering why there weren’t more chairs available for their fat asses.

 

Shawn lent back in his own comfy reinforced office chair so as to arch his back and push his mammoth belly out in a sign of dominance. Bjorn noticed this but didn’t fall for it.

 

“We understand your concern about the recent media spotlight on us but I assure you that it is all a part of the plan.” he said calmly.

 

“Killing a boy was your plan?” Bjorn demanded to know.

 

“Of course not. That was a freak unfortunate event.”

 

“Tell me the truth, Shawn. I will defend you and my boys to the death. You know that surely, but I must know the truth If you want me to defend you!”

 

“It’s true, Dad,” Henry interrupted.

 

“100%,” Steve added.

 

Bjorn just looked at them with concern. Shawn eyed him with concern. Had he bought it? If not then the next piece of news would not be welcomed.

 

“I have already dealt with that anyway. So your kind offer of legal advice will not be required.”

 

“What? How the fuck have you done that?”

 

“We settled, Dad.” Steve said.

 

“Settled?” Bjorn enquired with a fear in his eyes that only the loss of a seven digit figure could inspire.

 

“We accepted no liability of course,” Henry explained, “But we offered them a package that suited both parties. They even signed an NDA agreeing to pursue no further course of action or report anything publicly.”

 

“I know what a fucking NDA is!” Bjorn barked at his fat ball of a son. “How much did you fucking agree to pay?”

 

“$700,000” Shawn told him without even blinking. “They agreed immediately. They knew that they sent him here and they were well aware of the nature of the camp. Ben Bigby never hid his fat fetish. Going to court would only have embarrassed them.”

 

“MY $700,000!!!!” Bjorn screamed. His face turning as red as a sunburnt fat English boy under studio lights.

 

He breathed heavily causing his huge gut to rise and fall. His own act of male dominance. 

 

“So now the camp has no money.” He said calmly.

 

“We’ve declared bankruptcy.” Steve said with his eyes looking at the floor rather than at his father.

 

“You’ve declared bankruptcy.” Bjorn repeated.

 

Shawn took over; “ On purpose. We did it on purpose. A bankrupt company cannot be chased for any further liabilities. You cannot be chased further. The camp is bankrupt so you have no further say in anything.”

 

“IT’S STILL MY FUCKING COMPANY! MY NAME ON THE PAPERWORK!!!”

 

“Only if you want it to be?” Shawn posited. “I want to make an offer to buy the old company from you and set up a new one in its place. I hereby officially offer you one single dollar to buy the company and take on all of its assets and debts.”

 

Bjorn turned and looked at Steve and Henry, before focusing his attention on Steve.

 

“Do you remember what I said to you, son?”

 

Steve gulped down a huge intake of air and swallowed it as if it was a gallon of ice cream.

 

“Yes, Dad. That if we lost your money then you wouldn’t fund our college any longer.”

 

“Have I ever lied to you, son?”

 

“No,” Henry said. “But we have that worked out too.” He huffed as he bent down to reach into the lower pocket of his 5XL combat shorts and pulled out two cheques with his obese fingers. One for one dollar signed by Shawn and another for $700,000 dollars signed by him and Steve, from their joint bank account.

 

“One dollar from Shawn for the Camp,” Steve explained, “and $700,000 from us as a repayment for our college loans.”

 

A smile of realisation came over Bjorn’s face. They had played him and played him well. He was secretly impressed. He was still confused about one thing though:

 

“Ok, I get this now, he said, “But where exactly did you get $700,000 dollars from? Please don’t tell me it’s a bank loan!”

 

“It’s my money.” Shawn explained. “Everything I made so far online.”

 

“Shawn will be the sole owner of the camp,” Steve added.

 

“Well not exactly. Steve, Jake, and me will be executive officers with 1% each. Shawn will own 97%” Henry said.

 

Bjorn turned to Shawn, stood up, smiled, and held out a bear paw for Shawn to shake.

 

“Congratulations,” he said, “I knew you had it in you. I always did. I don’t doubt that you will make a huge success of it.”

 

Shawn rolled his eyes at being made to stand up but did so under some duress and painfully lent forward over his desk. He took Bjorn’s paw and shook it firmly before allowing his huge oversized ass to fall back down into his reinforced chair with a thump and a crack.

 

“I’ll sort that out after lunch,” he said. “Shall we go to the restaurant to celebrate our agreement?”

 

He was 585 lbs and there were still three weeks of camp left.

58.

Three weeks had passed since Simon LeFont’s parents had picked him up from camp on the last day. Overcome with worry and concern they had finally made the difficult decision to pay for flights and greet him in person. Simon’s Mom’s concern only increased as they drove their rented Kia Sentos through the gates and under the sign that read: Camp Shawn - Where food can set you free! 

 

She was greeted by the sight of dozens of heavily obese teenagers excitedly making their way down to the stage area by the lake for the end of summer celebrations. All of them appeared to be munching on some sort of snack, be it a tube or four of Pringles, or a mountain of Hershey Bars. Their bellies wobbled and their buttocks bounced as their now undersized clothing, that they had all arrived in eight weeks earlier, struggled to contain their hideously boated forms. She couldn’t bring herself to describe the sight to her husband.

 

They parked and followed the crowd of young Surplus and took two seats at the back. They watched the coronation of the new King of Camp, Oliver Twitch. A boy so fat that he was literally wider than he was tall. His belly so globular that he struggled to sit down. He eventually managed to take his place on his throne by spreading his aching legs as wide as humanly possible in order to make space for his circular ball of fat that hung half way down his shins. His fat blown out face radiated with joy and happiness as he grinned like a lunatic and made a grovelling acceptance speech thanking the guy next to him for changing his life. 

 

That guy was a morbidly obese young man sitting on a sofa on the side of the stage. Mrs LeFont had never seen anyone so fat, not in real life anyway. He looked like one of those people that you see on TV, the ones who have to get walls knocked down to rescue them from their bedrooms. He must have been at least 600 lbs. Her worst fears were confirmed when the king's final numbers were read out to huge applause and the amount of fat that he had purposefully gained was celebrated like an Olympic gold medal.

 

130 lbs! The teenage boy had gained 130 lbs! Where was Simon? What had these monsters done to him? Where was her precious boy? With her husband in tow she searched the entire camp for two hours. Only after all of the other campers and parents had left did they decide to give up, return to the car, and call the police.

 

As they walked back up to the car park she spotted the morbidly obese monster leaning dangerously on their rented Kia. He looked like he was going to crush it. 

 

“WHERE THE HELL'S MY SON!?” She yelled.

 

The giant blob of lard was squished painfully onto the back seats. His huge head hung low and forward, seemingly only being held up by the thick layers of fat that used to be his neck. The morbidly obese monster explained that Simon was actually the king of camp but due to ‘political issues’ and not wanting to demotivate the others, they had decided to crown the second fattest boy. He handed Mr LeFont a certificate that he couldn’t read. It proclaimed that Simon was the best ever camper and had gained a total of 426 lbs! 

 

“I promised him and I delivered,” the monster boasted. “Sexy Emo Simon is even bigger than me!”

 

Tears ran down her face as she drove away trembling and screaming. “It’s not that bad, is it?” Her husband asked.

 

Now they were back at home. Sixteen year old Simon on one coach (as he took up an entire coach) and his parents on another. The family lawyer was perched on a kitchen chair brought into the living room for him. The lawyer looked at Simon in both pity and disgust. He had clearly once been a beautiful young boy but those good looks were now long buried under mountains of gelatinous fat. He still insisted on wearing eye shadow which only served to highlight how ridiculously small his eyes seemed to be in comparison to his moon-like face. He wore only a 5XL Greed Day t-shirt that hardly even covered his doughy chest and 7XL briefs that were barely visible under the mounds of human fat tissue that was his once smooth young body. His parents couldn’t afford all of the oversized clothing that he required, especially because he was still eating like an elephant. At first they had tried to force him onto a normal diet, for a human, but the doctors had advised that this could be dangerous for someone of his size and that he needed to lose weight steadily. He never would. Simon sat on the sofa digging his obese hands into his eighteenth bag of Cheese Balls.

 

He had told his parents all that he could remember about what had happened at camp. He was so sorry for lying to them, for tricking them, and that they had been right. Gaining was a cult. It was a stupid and dangerous teenage fad that had only led him to misery and depression. He had enjoyed camp at first and had made lots of friends. He admitted to enjoying growing fatter and, embarrassingly, gaining sexual gratification from it. But it had all gone wrong when he had gotten too close to Shawn. He had been abused and tricked into agreeing to something that he didn’t understand. He just wanted the older kids to think he was cool.

 

And he had been raped, hundreds of times. The lawyer questioned this as it just seemed so implausible. The question that Simon had been raped was never in doubt, but Simon’s claim that he thought it had happened fifty times in a single day seemed too extreme to ever be possible. Let alone that it had gone on for almost a month while he was locked in some kind of cellar semi-consciously connected to a feeding machine.

 

The lawyer had come to the house that day to explain to the parents that they were going to apply to the district attorney to prosecute not only Shawn but also Steve, Henry and Jake, as well as the majority shareholder Bjorn Buntersson. Simon begged them not to, but neither his parents nor the lawyer could understand. “Just Shawn!” He begged. “Don’t go after the others!” But his father in particular was having none of it.

 

“I want to see every bastard that hurt you pay for what they’ve done!” He understandably stated with clear paternal authority.

 

So the lawyer went to the DA, and warrants were put out for Shawn, Jake and the entire Buntersson clan.

 

“She’ll protect them. You’ve bankrupted this family,” was all that Simon had the energy to say to his Dad through floods of tears.