1.

Sean Stranger had been at camp for five weeks. At first he had been offended by the insinuation but had soon come round to his parents' point of view. He could do with bulking up and gaining a few pounds.

 

They had surprised him only three weeks before the camp started. It was the manner of his weight loss that had alarmed them. He had started to lose weight around the same time that he had come out to them as gay, just before his sixteenth birthday. They were very supportive but the whole experience had been very stressful for him.

 

His friends on the soccer team had started to tease him. Some of them would refuse to get changed in his presence. Even worse, some of them still did and chose to taunt him mercilessly, waving their naked private parts at him, shouting, "You love that, don't you gay boy!"

 

He did love that.

 

He quit sports and regressed to playing online games in his room. He rarely ate meals with his family and his weight plummeted, fifty pounds down in two years. It was a problem. He didn't want to be the stereotypical anorexic gay teen.

 

He had arrived at camp six hours late due to a delayed flight. The reception woman, who was as big as a fucking house, had been very sharp with him. She had insisted that he was in the wrong place and had him escorted to an adjacent camp on the other side of the lake. Once there he had quickly realised that something was very wrong.

 

All of the other boys were fat as fuck, well compared to him anyway. On speaking to them it soon became blindingly obvious that he was in the wrong place. He was in a fat camp. A camp for fat kids to lose weight. How the fuck had the elephant woman ever believed that he belonged there?

 

He had complained to a counsellor but the guy had displayed a terrible 'I'm always right' militaristic attitude and waved his complaints away.

 

He phoned his Dad who immediately called to complain only to be told that he had signed up for 'a weight management camp' and that was exactly what he had got. His Dad had considered coming to fetch him immediately but Sean had decided to give it a go. His attitude had always been good.

 

"Healthy eating and exercise sounds good for me. Maybe I will bulk up after all?"

 

This turned out to be a very naive thought.

 

The camp was brutal. Food was rationed to a measly 1500 calories a day and the exercise regime was overly excessive to say the least. Worst of all, there were no recreational activities.

 

It was clear to Sean that the place was being run for extreme profit at the expense of the campers. Yes, the fat boys he shared a cabin with were losing weight but they were utterly miserable. The counsellors openly insulted them, demeaned them, and worked them like they were navy seal recruits.

 

Some of the fat campers had even started to go crazy and told ludicrous stories of when the camp had once been for gaining weight and served unlimited ice cream sundaes in cake mix bowls.

 

After three weeks at camp, Sean, who had started out stick thin, was now malnourished. He often felt dizzy and sometimes even became disorientated.

 

He was so out of it once, after a particularly back breaking circuit training session, that he had hallucinated in the woods. He never told anyone what he thought he saw. An extremely fat copy of himself violently ejaculating into the face of a beautiful blonde Nordic boy, who also happened to be excessively fat, but was still somehow the most beautiful specimen of boy he had ever seen.

 

The lack of food must really have been getting to him.

2.

The next morning started much sooner than any of the campers wanted it to. Johnny, Kai, and Jake had spread the awful news of the previous night's events to all of the campers that were still awake. Many of them felt awful for Shawn, who only that morning had been celebrated as a camp hero. In truth though the majority of them were mostly concerned about the catastrophe of hellish changes that they were now facing. What did they mean David owns the camp? How was that possible? And weight loss camp? How was that even legal?

 

The fat campers who had slept through the night were woken with the shock of their lives. New councillors, seconded from camp two, banged on their cabin doors. They wore tight uniforms of black cargo pants and t-shirts which hugged their muscles and screamed at the fat, lazy, spoiled boys, to get up immediately and go out jogging. What sort of nightmare was this?

 

One of the campers, Tom Stanton, was so convinced that he was still dreaming that he pinched his flabby upper arm so tight that the bruise was still clearly visible when the camp closed for the season two weeks later.

 

The complaints were loud and multiple.

 

“You can’t do this.”

 

“I have my rights.”

 

“I’m an American citizen.” 

 

“This isn’t what my parents paid for.”

 

“My Dad’s a lawyer.”

 

“I have sensitive sinuses.”

 

“I need breakfast first.”

 

“I’ve got diabetes.”

 

They all fell on deaf uncaring ears.

 

The new counsellors were all ex-military and had experience of working with fat teens from the other camp. They had no sympathy and lacked empathy.

 

Unlike the old counsellors, who like Jim, were mostly ex-camp attendees, they had no lived experiences of being young and fat. They had no idea of the trauma that these kids went through on a daily basis. No idea how it felt to need to have more pizza, how it felt to have your body demand that you eat at least twice as much as your siblings every day. The cravings, the sugar rushes.

 

They had no idea just how hard it was to be a spoiled, obese, upper-middle class American teenage boy.

 

And now they were punishing them for it. It felt as if Satan himself had taken over the camp and demanded that they do a half mile jog at their own pace!

 

Talk of revolution started before they’d even sat down for breakfast.

3.

Shawn was the last to enter the dining hall after being the last to finish the jog. His fitness levels weren’t the worst at camp, he was after all only newly obese. He had though trudged around the camp at such an unbelievably slow pace, so deep in depression, that he heard two of the new counsellors say that he was acting like they were walking him to the gallows. 

 

He wished they were.

 

He was planning on finding a new place to sit, as far away from the traitor Axel as possible. However, there were only a few spare places and they were on his normal table.

 

Jake spotted him and waved him over. He approached with caution, but it was okay, Axel was nowhere to be seen. There were four spare places including his own.

 

“It’s alright, he’s not here,” said English Johnny.

 

“He tried to sit with us but we told him exactly where to fucking go,” Kai explained.

 

He pointed to the far corner of the hall, the furthest possible point from their group. Shawn didn’t look, he never wanted to see Axel again.

 

The hall was eerily quiet. None of the campers knew what to expect, all twelve of the regular buffet stations were absent. The walls looked bare and bleak without them. The dining hall, normally a place of such joviality and happiness, now had a cold air about it. It was as if winter had descended on their warm fat happy summer.

 

They waited like that for about fifteen minutes. David enjoyed tormenting them.

 

He was sitting waiting behind the double doors at the far end of the hall, listening to eighty five, soft, round, tummies rumble, while he finished devouring his eleventh breakfast burrito.

 

When he finally entered it appeared at first that he was going to make a grand speech, an inauguration of sorts, to officially begin his reign of terror. But he didn’t.

 

He factually stated that portion sizes were now being rationed and that each boy would receive one round of wheat bread, a solitary boiled egg, and a small glass of orange juice.

 

He left the room to a cacophony of boo’s, jeers, and curse words. A hail of knives and forks rained dangerously down upon his mountainous frame. He didn’t care. Let them complain, he thought. There’s fuck all they can do about it. This is going to make me rich.

4.

Eighty one starving boys stampeded out of the dining hall, their empty bellies growling and groaning for sustenance. They ran faster back to their cabins than a single one of them had done during the earlier enforced exercise. Wooden doors were bashed open as they charged like buffalo to a new succulent grazing spot where the grass was long and moist.

 

They dived into cupboards and bags. Pockets were emptied, mattresses were lifted. Candy bars and chocolates flew through the air as the manic rage to consume took over their corpulent bodies. The majority had just enough. The campers lay on their beds, tummies satiated and swollen, chocolate smears and stains on their mouths and sheets. Wrappers littered every cabin, except one.

 

Shawn had left his breakfast and wandered slowly back to cabin six, tears once more starting to build in his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and felt like he would never want to eat again. He slumped his heavy frame onto the bed, which sagged in the middle under the weight of his belly. He lay face down, head buried in his pillows, soon soaked through in salty water as he screamed uncontrollably.

 

Axel emerged from the bathroom and picked up his bag.

 

“Dude, I just want to explain… I ….,”

 

Shawn didn’t move.

 

“I just… I…,”

 

Shawn just sobbed and sobbed, his face burrowed deeper and deeper into the pillows. It was never deep enough. He didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want to hear him. He didn’t want to be there anymore.

 

Axel knew it was pointless.

 

“I know nobody wants me here.” He let the wind shut the door behind him.

 

Shawn was alone in cabin six.

5.

The search and destroy operation began at eleven o’clock on the dot.

 

Every cabin was raided. Every piece of evidence of the campers last binge was removed along with every remaining edible item. They searched through and emptied every drawer, wardrobe, and hiding place. Floorboards were lifted, cubbyholes were smashed. Bags were emptied and the larger of the boys were even body searched to ensure that not a single skittle, mint, or slice of chewing gum remained hidden in their fat folds.

 

One bottle of budget brand mineral water per boy was placed in each otherwise empty cabin refrigerator. Shawn hadn’t moved through any of this as cabin six was ripped to pieces around him.

 

He didn’t bother going to lunch.

 

At about 3pm there was a knock on the door. He didn’t respond. The door swung slowly open. He didn’t look up until Jake spoke; 

 

“Hey man, we saw Axel moving his things into the main house this morning. We realised that you were alone in here. That’s not cool.” 

 

“We’re moving in,” Kai said.

 

“I’ll b..b..b..be… o..k..,” he voice was soft as a mouse and barely audible through the pillows and sniffles.

 

“It’s not an offer dude,” Kai continued, “It’s happening.”

 

 For the first time since before the circlejerk began Shawn almost wore a fraction of a smile.

6.

The new camp routine was harsher than any of the boys could ever have imagined. Each day started with a half a mile jog followed by the measly breakfast. Every camper was then forced to shower and change before an hour of swimming in the lake.

 

Eighty two reluctant balls of fat just floated sadly around in the warm summer water.

 

Lunch was also rationed, as was dinner. Every camper was limited to a daily intake of one thousand five hundred calories. Shawn still wasn’t intaking any.

 

The Evenings were the worst. This was when they were forced to try to complete the cheaply and rapidly assembled assault course.

 

They were supposed to hop over logs, crawl under nets, and jump through hoops. It was exhausting and embarrassing. A good third of them couldn’t or wouldn’t even hop, instead choosing to lamely step onto the log and down the otherside. This same group didn’t even fit under the net, mounted only six inches from the floor. Jake had attempted it the first day and ended up trapped underneath it like the fat juicy plunder of a hunter hungry for boy meat. 

 

The same group had no hope of fitting through the hoops, their bellies, asses, and thighs were still just far too fat and round. They still took up far too much space. Shawn belonged to this group.

 

Three days had now passed since Shawn had last eaten. His once beautiful round inflated beach ball belly, constantly full of thousands of calories of fats and sugars and meats, now hung low and limp. The skin sagged as his hard fought for fat cells were eaten alive by his starving stomach. A stomach that had so recently stretched his young skin so wonderfully tight and taught. Even this stomach was now betraying him.

 

He was no longer the round bloated proud sexy boy with a greedy selfish attitude to die for. The boy that Henry and Steve once so adored.

 

He now resembled a sad sack of potatoes with a hole in the bottom of it. A massive, gaping hole that could never be filled. That could never be sewn up and fixed.

 

Some of the other boys still whispered about revolution. About overthrowing their newly non-elected tyrant.  Afterall David was still just a teenager himself. A mammoth rich one, maybe, but a teenager nonetheless.

 

Others knew that this was a hopeless cause so long as their leader, the oldest boy at camp, who had once gained 73 lbs in a single week in order to slay the evil goliath, so long as he remained a sad depressed bag of potatoes, a fraction of his former self, they had no chance. 

The revolution would never work without him to lead it.

 

Jake had heard of such talk but rubbished it whenever anyone mentioned it to him directly.

 

Him, Kai, and Johnny, were working overtime trying to cheer Shawn up, but none of their tactics were working either.

 

They tried to distract him with tales from home. Stories about past birthday parties filled with burgers and cake and joy. Stories about stealing food from their school cafeterias. He never joined in or smiled.

 

They tried to remain positive around him all the time in defiance of his dour demeanour. They showed him videos on their phones. Youtube clips of Mukbangs from Korea, Japan, and Thailand. He never showed any interest.

 

By the sixth day they resulted to trying to find him a new boyfriend, knowing how badly he loved young fat boys. Maybe one of them would cheer him up?

 

As far they could tell he hadn’t even jacked it once since Steve and Henry left. No wonder he was still depressed.

 

They went around the whole camp asking absolutely everyone. They found just one kid, out of almost eighty, who felt safe enough to openly admit that he was even bisexual. He was also seventeen years old but he had an obscenely bad acne problem and a face that not even his mother could love. Their situation was completely hopeless.

 

David and his military of abusive counsellors had destroyed the soul of the camp.

7.

David finally made his inauguration speech that evening. During the paltry dinner of dry skinless chicken and raw carrot. He stood in front of the projector screen and proudly presented the new camp moto and ethos; 

 

“Weight loss will set you free.” 

 

He unveiled this whilst talking about the new increased exercise regime that all campers would be required to follow over the upcoming and final week of this year's camp.

 

The giant young tyrant stood their straight faced, clearly thirty pounds heavier then at the start of the week, explaining how the pre-breakfast jog would now be a two mile run. How the mornings would now be filled with other athletic activities. How swimming would no longer be a free for all but instead two timed laps of the lake. In addition, completion of the obstacle course was now obligatory under pain of circuit training for anyone still too fat to do it.

 

“Oh, and by the way,” he finished, “Rations are being cut to one thousand two hundred calories per person per day.”

 

The speech was met with stony silence. His mother stood at the back of the dining hall pathetically trying to start a round of applause. Her solitary claps echoed around the large room only serving to make the complete silence even more noticeable.

 

A lone voice rang out.

 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”

 

It was tiny Tony Holmes, previously 260lbs. The smallest boy at the camp. 

 

“Why can’t I?” David asked with the calm authority of a man who believes that his word is unsurmountable.

 

“This isn’t what my parents paid for..”

 

David had already dealt with this argument, he was prepared.

 

“...they sent me here because I was being bullied at my school in Chicago. I was being beaten up on an almost daily basis due to my size. My parents said I was too small. Dad said that I needed to defend myself. That I needed to be bigger!”

 

Tears ran down little fat Tony’s cheeks.

 

“Your parents, like everyone else’s here, paid for you to attend a weight management camp.” 

 

The mammoth dickhead David Dolittle emphasised the words and then emphasised his point by showing a copy of a standard camp contract that contained the words weight management camp.

 

The ugly homophobic fat fucking cunt then emphasised his power by having his counsellor goons drag poor Tony out of the dining hall kicking and screaming.

 

Tony wailed that they were sending him back to be beaten and bullied.

 

Shawn felt the anger slowly building up from his anus.

David Dolittle’s reign of terror had entered its seventh day, but it did not rest. It was weigh-in day.

 

Shawn had tried to refuse and stay in bed but that wasn’t an option as the presence of four strong muscular counsellors in his cabin had reminded him.

 

The parade of misery began with the bedraggled and bruised Tony Holmes, 240lbs, who looked suicidal. It went downhill from there.

 

Boy after boy, teen after teen, dragged their sorry and not quite so fat ass up onto the stage in order to be humiliated in front of all their friends and peers.

 

David watched on from the sidelines with glee mentally counting all the money that his new adventure was saving.

 

Two of the beefiest counsellors were doing the weighing and measuring, physically restraining some of the teens who refused to keep still enough to allow them to measure them. It was a total invasion of their bodies and personal privacy.

 

Every single camper had lost at least ten pounds.

 

The group torture was almost complete. Shawn stood for his turn when Axel suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

 

The sell-out sack of shit must still be registered as a camper, he thought.

 

No one had seen Axel for most of the week, he certainly hadn’t been exercising or eating with the others. His weight was read out.

 

“398 lbs, a loss of… erm,”

 

Axel hadn’t lost a single pound. He had maintained while every single friend and peer that he had betrayed had suffered terribly. Shawn was fucking furious.

 

He thumped his way up onto the stage before his name was even called.

 

Axel, upon spotting him, tried to make a hasty retreat but failed due to his mass. As they passed each other Shawn purposefully shoulder-barged him, making everybody in the room take notice.

 

Axel didn’t move or react. Shawn pushed him in the chest but couldn’t muster enough force to move his former friend a solitary inch. Axel was more than twice the size that a boy of his age and height should be and Shawn's hand just sunk into his thick doughy chest.

 

He tried once more, pulling his right fist as far back as possible, winding himself up to slug the traitor in the gut, when he felt four muscular hands on his back.

 

They dragged him to the scales struggling to contain the violently writhing 321 lb teen. A loss of 39 lbs.

 

This was unsurprising to most of the experienced campers who knew that he hadn’t eaten for a week, and that most of his gains had only come at a record breaking pace the week before. Easy come, easy go.

 

It came as a huge surprise to Shawn though.

 

He hadn’t thought about his weight all week, he had been too depressed, too caught up in his grief for the lost Henry and Steve.

 

When he heard out loud the cold hard statistics of just what David had done to him it made his blood boil. He stopped struggling. The guards released their grip.

He stood calmly on the stage looking out at all his friends. They were all looking at him. 

 

He would gain the weight back.

 

He would finally make David Dolittle pay. For everything.

He went back to the cabin.

 

Picked up his cellphone.

 

And called his Gran.

9.

The revolution was on. The Great One had returned to lead his flock back to the promised land. The first thing that he had to do was free the slaves.

 

The plan was hatched that evening in cabin six and carried out that night. There was no time to waste.

 

The revolutionary committee consisted of twelve starving teens;

 

Shawn Stringer 321 lbs, Jake Joseph-Jackson 317 lbs , Kai Williams 281 lbs, English Johnny Smith 268 lbs, ‘Little’ Tony Holmes 240lbs, Tom Stanton 270 lbs, John Jones 301lbs, three other boys, Luke Petrovic 352 lbs, Mario Dominguez 293 lbs, Dwayne Brown 268 lbs, and finally the brothers Tommy and Todd Thompson, who were 286 and 298 lbs respectively. 

 

They were The Round Knights of the Kitchen Table.

 

They discussed numbers, they discussed weapons, and they discussed the distraction. At 01:00 hours the first part of the plan was set into action.

10.

Shawn and Tony slipped out of the cabin. The camp was dark and deserted. All of the counsellors were asleep. David didn’t want to pay the extra rate for night shifts. His greed and arrogance would be his undoing.

 

The two fat boys attempted to move smoothly and swiftly like ninjas in the night. In reality their movements were slow, cumbersome, and clumsy. But it didn’t matter as the enemy wasn’t watching. They snuck into the woods and steadily made their way towards the fence.

 

Twenty minutes later Kai, Johnny, Tom, Tommy, and Todd, under the blanket of darkness, also slipped out of the cabin. They fanned out across the camp going silently from cabin to cabin, never turning on the lights, spreading the message like fat pigeons delivering a war time code of attack.

 

Shawn used a sharp rock to remove some of the slats. It was a difficult task that cut and hurt his hands. He got at least two small splinters stuck painfully in his fat palms, but his adrenaline kept him going. Finally he had created a gap in the fence big enough for Tony to fit through, he climbed into the other camp and disappeared amongst the trees. Shawn waited and kept guard.

 

Shawn waited for what felt like about an hour, his anxiety was high, every creak of a branch in the wind, or owl hoot, caused him to jump with terror. His legs had begun to ache pretty badly. He didn’t want to sit down as the grass was damp with dew. Forced to stand for up to sixty minutes he was now really starting to feel the fatigue.

 

At 02:00 Jake arrived to meet him as arranged. Realising that he wouldn’t fit through the ‘little’ Tony sized hole in the fence they set to work on making it bigger

 

A few minutes later they heard footsteps approaching from the other side. Distant at first, maybe one or two people, as they got closer, distincter, it began to sound more like a stampede.

 

Tony reached the fence first.

 

“Tell them to be quiet,” Shawn whispered, “They’re going to get us all caught!” 

 

A “Sshhh” was passed down the lengthy line of Camp Two victims.

 

Shawn watched as they climbed one by one through the fence. It was hard to make out the details in the dark but to Shawn’s mind it was clear that they were emaciated holocaust survivors, stolen from their families and homes by a brutal dictator hell bent on destroying their humanity. Some of them must even have been under two hundred pounds.

 

Shawn was going to refill their bellies and save them all.

11.

Shawn and Jake had tried to count the abused escapees as they came through the fence but doing so accurately was hard. Shawn got one hundred and eighteen and Jake one hundred twenty five. Either way, significantly more than were registered at Camp One that summer.

 

As soon as the last gangly teen, Oliver James 217 lbs, was through the fence, Jake pushed himself through the gap the other way. Shawn handed him his backpack and they wished each other good luck.

 

Shawn and Tony led the caravan of tormented humanity through the woods to the edge of the lake by the pontoon. Here they met the remainder of the committee who slowly and quietly split the survivors into groups and led them silently away to separate cabins.

 

Once safely in smaller groups, inside the cabins, they were debriefed on the rest of the plan and hidden inside bathrooms, wardrobes, and under beds. By 03:30 just as the early summer sun was starting to rise the camp was still again. Peaceful and lifeless as if nothing had happened. They only had two hours to wait.

12.

Jake found his way to the centre of the camp. He found the entrance to the gym, the old a la carte restaurant, but the door was locked. He sat on the floor leaning against it, removed a tube of Pringles from his rucksack and began eating.

 

At exactly 05:30 he heard the commotion begin. Angry and confused voices were shouting at each other across the camp, radios buzzed, and cellphones rang. He heard them coming towards him before he saw them. He just kept on munching.

 

The guards literally screamed in his face.

 

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”

 

“WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THAT FOOD FROM!?”

 

He smiled at them and calmly replied, “Stole it,” as he pushed three Hershey’s Kisses into his mouth.

 

After the week of total deprivation they tasted so good. Jake had had just less than three hours to sit and eat.

 

Empty cartons, bags and wrappers, littered around him, blew lightly in the breeze. He didn’t feel full but by God it felt good to be able to eat again. He picked up one of the empty Pringles tubes; 

 

“I’m not even sure if these are vegan. Do you know if these are vegan?”

 

An angry guard knocked it out of his hand. He watched it bounce on the floor and roll away.

 

“Where is everybody else?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“You must fucking do, you’re the only fucker here!”

 

“What the fuck have you done?”

 

“I ain’t done nothin. I’m just waiting for breakfast.”

 

It was important that he kept them talking for as long as possible. 

 

“Stop with the bullshit Jumbo Jim. Where is everybody? Where are all the other campers?” 

 

“My name’s Jake.” 

 

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is! I asked you…” 

 

“Oh, that’s rude. You asked who the fuck I was before, I’m Jake, Jake Joseph-Jackson. I’m vegan.” He looked down to his side at the Pringles tube.

 

“Well maybe I am, I mean I was, I’m really not sure. If I could just look at what’s written on that can..” 

 

He reached for the Pringle’s tube. One of the guards aggressively kicked it away.

 

“Enough of the fucking games! Have you seen any other campers this morning?”

 

“Well, I maybe saw a couple of guys. Real skinny and sad looking.”

 

“Who were they?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“When did you see them?”

 

“Must’ve been at least an hour or so ago. I’ve been waiting here a long time. When do you open for breakfast?”

 

“What direction were they going in?”

 

“I think they were heading for the main entrance.”

 

A look of panic passed between the guards. One of them came up real close to him.

 

“This is very serious, son. Did you hear them say anything about where they were going?” 

“Well I wasn’t really listening, but I think they may have said something about a group trip to Wendy’s.”

 

One of the guards was already on his cell;

 

“David, I think we’ve located them. They’re all at Wendy’s.”

 

“When do you open for breakfast? I’m really hungry now.”

13.

In Camp One everyone, including the committee, had got up at 05:30 for the morning run as instructed. They gathered by the fire pit, their secret cargo of teenage life remaining safely stowed in the cabins, waiting for the signal.

 

They were just about to begin the run when confusion started to spread amongst the counsellors. They were told to wait where they were.

 

Counsellors came and went, till eventually all apart from one had disappeared. They had been ordered by David to the other camp. Or, even better, to Wendy’s, in order to help round up the errant weight-loss campers.

14.

Eighty one stinky fat teenage boys rushed the lone guard. He was barely able to breathe, his ribs crushed and cracking under their weight as they piled on top of him.

 

The signal rang out. The sound of a dying giraffe. Shawn had chosen it. One hundred twenty malnourished overweight boys sprang from the cabins eager to join the fight.

 

They dragged the guard unconscious to the pontoon. A life-saver ring was placed over his head and he was tied with a bright orange rope to one of the pontoon’s stanchions. He was waist deep in the cool early morning water.

 

Shawn and forty of the boys armed themselves with sticks and rocks and headed to the main house while others fetched a second rope. A third group planted a large stake in the centre of the fire pit.

 

No one was there to protect David. His Mom screamed helplessly as he was viciously beaten and taken away.

15.

He was tied to the stake and dry timber was piled up around his feet. His left shoulder and nose were broken. All four limbs were black and blue with terrible bruises that seemed to be spreading. Small drops of blood leaked from his right ear as four boys tore off his clothing. 

 

Once the cacophony of cheers, jeers, and applause had died down, Shawn spoke;

 

“David Dolittle, you mammothly massive cunt of the highest order! On behalf of the Round Knights of the Kitchen Table I now declare this camp ours!”

 

There was a huge raucous cheer.

 

“You had no right to deprive us of our wants! Of our food! Of our rights to the Pursuit of Life, Liberty, and Happiness!”

 

He paused to accept the cheers and applause.

 

“This is a free camp where all are free to eat whatever they like! … Whenever they like!”

 

There was an even louder cheer.

 

“For your crimes against American obesity I hereby sentence you to death!!” 

 

A chant started up;

 

“Kill him, kill him, kill him!”

 

Shawn motioned for silence,

 

“The nature of your crimes calls for the harshest possible punishment. Death by fire by liposuction!”

 

“Hoorah! Hoorah Hoorah!” The hungry crowd was baying for his blood.

 

“You will be burnt until all five hundred pounds of your adipose tissue melts. This will be tapped and collected in buckets in order for me to drink later this evening in celebration of your demise. Your fat will become my fat. My belly will grow as big as a house. It will swell like an inflating hot air balloon stuffed full of everything you have ever eaten. You will be nothing. My belly will be everything!!” 

 

Another chant rang out;

 

 “Drink him, Drink him, Drink him!!”

 

The fear on David Dolittle’s face was indescribable as one of the boys stepped out of the crowd and started to walk towards him with a lit torch.

 

For the first time in a week Shawn had a raging boner. He desperately wanted to touch it but knew that he would painfully cream his pants if he did.

 

They didn’t hear the car engines due to the chants and cheers. It was the sound of metal doors shutting that caused them all to turn around.

 

There were two police cars. Officer Bob Bindley was the first to step out followed by Camp Leader Gary.

 

From the other car emerged an unknown cop, different to the one who had been employed by David, and a gentle giant of a man. He was about six foot five with blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a smart suit, had a kind but ageing face, and a gargantuan stomach that was pushing the limits of the buttons of his designer XXXXL shirt. Shawn liked the look of him.

 

Camp Leader Gary approached David Dolittle as a silence fell on the crowd. Big Bob Bindley came and stood next to Shawn, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. The smart friendly giant hung back by the cop cars.

 

“David Dolittle,” Gary began, “Under the laws of the state of Indiana referring to the ownership and operation of establishments for education, I Gary Simpson, hereby take legal control of Camp One and Camp Two in accordance with article five sub section six of the educational rights act.”

 

Shawn remained stonely silent. His pants were still full of glee.

 

“You are guilty of misuse of power and of failing to build your educational programme based on the needs and wants of your students. Your father would be ashamed of you. Every boy here has a right to follow their own path, you have denied your fellow campers the constitutional and human right to consume food until they feel sick. You have denied them their right to expect that everything be handed to them and paid for by their parents. Your actions against your fellow fat teens are not only immoral but un-American!” 

 

Loud cheers once more rang out from the crowd.

 

It was now Big Bob Bindley’s turn.

 

“David Dolittle, I am placing you under arrest for the abuse of minors and corrupting a police official through the use of bribery. You have the right to remain silent...”

 

Bob could no longer be heard due to the outpouring of emotion from the jubilant crowd.

 

“STOP!!!!”

 

It was David’s mother. The massive bitch had one hell of a voice on her. “What about him!” she screamed, pointing at Shawn.

 

“That fat little know-it-all bastard had my boy beaten and tortured! He was going to burn him alive and then consume his corpse! How the fuck can that be constitutional!?”

 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but I haven’t seen anything like that around here. Sounds rather outlandish and conspiratorial to me,” Officer Big Bob Bindley said, as his colleague untied David from the stake.

 

Sharon turned to Shawn;

 

“I can’t believe I ever fucking helped you! I can’t believe that I felt sorry for you!”

 

Shawn just stared at her with dead eyes until the other cop came over and took her to David.

 

When the fuck did that fat mental mountain of a bitch ever help me? He wondered.

16.

As Shawn watched the defeated cunt and his fat mad mother being led away he asked Big Bob who the smart-looking friendly giant was.

 

“Oh, he’s very keen to meet you!”

 

Bob led Shawn over to the cars.

 

“Shawn Stringer this is Mr Bjorn Bunterson, Attorney at Law.” “Mr Bunterson this is young Shawn Stringer.”

 

They shook hands.

 

“My sons have told me so much about you Shawn. You’ve certainly made a strong impression on them.”

 

The back doors to the second cop car opened and two identically round beautiful balls of fat from Minnesota slid their sexy swollen buttocks off the seat and out of the car.

 

Their smiles upon seeing Shawn stretched from the Pacific to the Atlantic. His ran around the whole world.

 

They kissed and embraced while the whole crowd applauded.

 

“I thought I’d never see you again!” Shawn exclaimed in between passionate exchanges. 

 

They disengaged from the hug and said, “We’ve brought you a special present.” 

 

Shawn beamed with delight. They both turned around to show him their lush fat asses, cocked their left legs, and farted the longest wettest eggiest fart that Shawn had ever smelt. 

He was in love forever.

 

“Boys will be boys,” their father said.

17.

An old lady appeared from behind the cop cars carrying a pile of twelve tupperware containers. 

 

“Grandma!” shouted Shawn.

 

The old lady put down the containers and did her best to wrap her short arms around his big empty sagging belly. The hug felt good.

 

“I’m so glad you’re ok darling,” she said.

 

“I was so concerned when you called. I did what you asked and contacted the nice Officer Bindley here. I’m so pleased that he was able to help you fix this terrible mess.”

 

Shawn was so glad to see her. She always treated him well.

 

She had noticed that her sweet boy now appeared to be about a hundred pounds heavier than when she had last seen him, only about three months previous, but she was far too polite to say anything.

 

Boys will be boys, she thought.

 

Shawn beckoned Henry and Steve over to introduce them.

 

“My, you boys do look hungry,” she said, “Good job I brought plenty of your favourite pumpkin pie.”

 

Jake reappeared, ten minutes later, just as the reunions were dying down. He was already too late for pumpkin pie. Four of which sat satisfyingly in each of Shawn, Henry and Steve’s pumpkin shaped bellies. Shawn was just wiping the last of the thick filling off his top lip as Jake approached him.

 

Jake embraced Shawn and the twins before declaring to the whole crowd that he was starving and they were all very late for breakfast.

 

There was a mass-stampede of about two hundred mini-elephants to the dining hall.

18.

The lady at Wendy’s had told Jake that this was the biggest take-away order in the corporation's history. This had pleased him immensely.

 

There were many many extremely hungry obese teenage boys dying to be overfed. Plus a few rather chunky adults. Big Bob Bindley and Bjorn Bunterson among them. The burger mountain was a sight to behold.

 

Jake knew that all of the boys had been maliciously deprived of sustenance. More than half of them for at least five weeks. He had therefore taken no chances when placing the order.

 

Two thousand cheeseburgers leaked grease, as did a thousand large portions of fries. The total amount of breakfast combos was uncountable. Five thousand chickens had needed to be slaughtered to supply them with enough wings. He had asked for eight hundred chocolate frosty shakes. Four per teen at four hundred calories each. The boys were back in heaven. 

 

They engorged themselves for hours while David sat crying in a jail cell.

 

“This reminds me of the McMukbang,” Steve said to Shawn, as Shawn was ramming his eighth burger into his greedily salivating mouth. 

 

“Shame we’ve missed that now this year,” Henry continued his brother’s thought.

 

The gang was now back together at their usual table, apart from Axel, who had been absent the entire morning. No one gave a shit where he was.

 

“Maybe we’ve not missed it?” Shawn mumbled through a greedy gob full of fries.

 

“No, it's always in the second to last week.” Said Jake as he started on his fifth chicken burger.

 

“I thought you were a vegan?” Said Kai.

 

“You must have misheard me. I said I was hungry enough to eat a vegan! Jake responded. 

 

All the boys laughed.

 

Everyone was once more having a great time and Jake's historical revisionism had been too funny to correct. Everything was back as it should be.

19.

Back in cabin six Jake was taking too long to remove his things.

 

Kai and Johnny had picked up the hint that Shawn and the twins wanted some private time much quicker and they announced their decision to return to their original cabin immediately.

 

Jake though was now dallying around trying to pair his socks together. Shawn knew that he shouldn’t be angry with Jake. His friends had been really good over the last week trying to help him through his depression. They had shown him more care towards him in that one week than his fucking parents ever had. He had this strange new feeling towards them, not just friendship, but something else, an emotion he couldn’t quite name. He knew there was something that he probably should say to Jake but he couldn’t quite find the words to express his meaning.

 

“Will you just fuck off already!” he said, to his friend who had just played such a central role in his revolution.

 

As soon as Jake was gone Shawn found himself the fat juicy slice of meat in a very fat twin sandwich.

 

This by far wasn’t the most full Shawn had ever felt, but after a week of starvation, the Wendy’s feast now sitting in his stomach felt wonderful, he felt like his belly was already beginning to gain its deserving rounded shape back.

 

Henry and Steve were both at least just as fat as the day they left having not been put through the gastronomical torture of David’s short tenure in charge. Unbeknown to Shawn they spent the week in Denny’s and Arby’s and White Castle and Bennigans and Panda Express and …. the list went on.

 

Shawn loved being stuck between seven hundred pounds of abdominal fat. So soft, so smooth, so tender, so virile.

 

His sex drive had returned with abundance and his balls once more hung heavy and low, waiting to blow. Henry or Steve, he didn’t care which. took them in his mouth and sucked while the other licked his fat shaft up and down. His anus twitched and he knew that he wanted those three fat fingers back in there, he motioned so, and Henry happily obliged.

 

It hurt a bit more than the first time, but as the fat digits entered his cavity he let rip. The force of the blast shook Henry’s fingers and both boys moaned loudly.

 

Not wanting to be left out Steve moved his position and sat his huge round wobbly ass cheeks over Shawn’s face. As Shawns nose sank deep into his hairless crack, Steve pulled his cheeks apart and farted with the ferocity of a boy who had just eaten ten cheese burgers, thirty eight wings, and five large portions of fries. It was delicious.

 

Shawn tilted his head as far forward as he could and stuck his tongue deep into Steve’s hole. He licked like a fat cat who got the double cream. Finally all three boys came like fire hoses, jizzing cum all over the beds and each other.

 

Shawn naturally cleaned their sweet soft bodies of cum with his tongue, getting deep into every fat layer and fold. Naturally nobody bothered to clean the bed sheets.

20.

Fat Camp was back. Jim and the other counsellors were reinstated and the military jocks were given their papers. Camp Leader Gary was sure to order more than enough food for the now two hundred hungry campers and the regular three hour buffets, three times a day, returned to the dining hall. Axel was still hiding himself away somewhere and the terror of David was soon forgotten by most campers who were too self-indulgent to focus on the past once their bellies were once again full. Not Shawn though

.

“Full bellies don’t start revolutions,” Johnny had explained to him over one particularly large dinner, “That was David’s mistake.”

 

All of the campers were feverishly looking forward to the final weigh-in on the last day of camp.

 

Everyone was determined to gain back the weight lost during the previous week and then some. For Shawn who was a massive forty pounds down, this was going to be a huge challenge, even for someone with his very admirable attitude. He was doing his best though. 

 

The mixing bowls of mixed chocolatey cereals to start the day returned and his levels of consumption continued apace from there. The trips to the supermarket for snacks had been reinstated after David’s ban on leaving the site had been reversed. Cabin six was now strewn more than ever with empty tins and cans, wrappers and sheets, boxes and cartons, packets and bags. It stank to high heaven

 

The three happy and not so little pigs grew fatter and fatter in their sty.

21.

Shawn felt that something wasn’t quite right. He was eating like a king, but something in his motivation was still oddly lacking compared to that wonderful week where he’d gained 73 lbs and humiliated David. He needed to feel that high again.

 

Steve and Henry were supplying him with more than enough sexual motivation and reward but there was no real challenge to that anymore, he had already won them.

 

He still wanted to be as fat as possible to piss off his parents, and the fatter he became the more angry they would be, but again he had kind of already achieved this. Even if he never gained another pound he’d still be leaving camp at least 100 lbs heavier than he’d started six weeks ago. This way already way more than enough to send them into delirious amounts of beautiful anger.

 

He needed a new challenge. He needed someone to compete against. Someone who he really hated. He knew what he had to do.

22.

Collecting one hundred and sixty eight signatures to reinstate the McMukbang on the penultimate day of camp turned out to be a complete waste of time. Camp Leader Gary agreed to it immediately before they even showed him the petition.

 

“What a great idea boys! That’s just what we need to reinvigorate the camp and get everyone excited to come back again next year.”

 

The only logistical problem was that the challenge was only supposed to be between the ten boys who had gained the most over the first five weeks.

 

Since David had fucked that up and completely invalidated the week six weigh-in to boot a new additional weigh-in would have to be held in only two days time, one day before the McMukbang took place, leaving no time to practice for the event.

 

Gary had also insisted that due to logistical reasons in arranging it at such short notice it would only be possible for the five best gainers to take part. Shawn had failed to understand why this was the case so didn’t protest. 

 

He only had two days in front of him to ensure that he was in the top five for most weight gained since the camp had started, almost seven weeks earlier. He set about his task with gusto.

23.

Unlike during his previous quick gain attempt, Shawn couldn’t rely on the help of his friends, not even the adorable twins.

 

Both they and Jake fully believed that they also had not only had a chance of being in the top five, but also of winning the McMukbang outright. It was every fat boy for himself.

 

Shawn ate like there was no tomorrow. He was shocked to see that Henry and Steve had even started taunting each other, boasting that each one of them would gain more than the other. He was surprised and turned on by this in equal measure.

 

All of them desperately wanted to win. All of them wanted to prove that they were the biggest, fattest, greediest boy in camp.

 

The food flowed and the boys swallowed. Ludicrous amounts of carbohydrates, sugars, and saturated fats were digested and passed through their overloaded gaseous systems. Their bellies swelled and their moobs ripened. Their massive asses grew yet softer as inches of succulent tissue was added to their waists.

 

Huge roast dinners were devoured, piles of puddings were penetrated with ease. The boys moaned and groaned with gastronomic pleasure as gigantic greasy gyros were gulped down their greedy gullets. Their appetites only grew as their corpulence expanded. It was a wonderful two day demonstration of the gluttonous ability of mankind to consume everything on the planet. Camp Leader Gary was thrilled.

24.

It was the morning of the weigh-in and the three boys were lying next to each other on their conjoined beds. All three were on their back, swollen bellies protruding higher into the air than they had any right to. After spending the whole night daring each other to eat just a bit more, all three of them were now full to completion.

 

“There’s only one more thing left to do,” Shawn said.

 

“What’s that? Henry asked.

 

“Ring your Dad and ask him to get David Dolittle out of jail.” 

 

“Why the fuck would we want to do that? Said Steve. 

 

“Because I’m going to beat the cunt again.” Shawn said, with a sadistic twinkle in his eye.

25.

They turned up for the weigh-in twenty minutes early. Shawn knew that they would have to speak to Camp Leader Gary first in order to win over his understanding and hence approval of their actions. 

 

“But, he’s just a normal self-obsessed teen like us,” he lied.

 

“We’ve forgiven him. He just wanted to grow fat and rich, with no hard work or personal effort required, and at the expense of others. What could be more American than that?”

 

Gary was uncertain about any of this and suspected that the fat gays were up to something. 

 

David was still though technically registered as an attendee at the camp. If he really had been released from custody then he was technically free to return as a camper. Gary wouldn’t be able to stand in his way.

26.

Participation in the weigh-in was voluntary so as not to waste time. The camp two refugees would have no chance so forcing them to take part would just have been cruel. A large number of the camp one campers also knew that they were never going to be in the top five so decided to wait till the last day to receive their final measurements.

 

In reality there were eight or nine boys fighting for five places.

 

They were; Shawn, Steve, Henry, and Jake, along with Luke Petrovic and John Jones. There was also a boy whom they’d never spoken to called Julian, David of course, and Axel.

 

The dining hall was rammed. Every camper was in place to watch the spectacle. All were invested in the competition. Straws had been drawn in order to decide the order of the weigh-in and Shawn was actually up first.

 

“Shawn Stringer. Starting weight 230 lbs. Current weight 358 lbs. Giving us a gain of 128 lbs.”

 

Applause rang around the room. Shawn had most certainly qualified for the contest. Next up was Steve.

 

“Steve Bunterson. Starting weight 289 lbs. Current weight 373 lbs. Giving us a gain of 84 lbs.”

 

Steve had also surely qualified. Now it was Luke’s turn.

 

“Luke Petrovic. Starting weight 310 lbs. Current weight 365 lbs. Giving us a gain of 55 lbs.” 

 

Luke grimaced. It most likely wasn’t enough.

 

“Jake Joseph-Jackson. Starting weight 272 lbs. Current weight 353 lbs. Giving us a gain of 81 lbs.”

 

Jake punched the air to celebrate the impressive figure but the concerned expression on his face told Shawn that Jake didn’t believe that it would be enough. It was Henry next.

 

“Henry Bunterson. Starting weight 289 lbs. Current weight 373 lbs. Giving us a gain of 84 lbs.”

 

Shawn couldn’t help but snigger. Even when they had been trying so desperately hard to gain more than the other they still ended up still being exactly the same weight! They were so cute.

 

John Jones and Julian Whoever were up next. They were both knocked out with gains of 54 and 53 lbs respectively.

 

They received encouraging applause as they left the stage. Not least from Luke Petrovic who was still in the game by a single pound. He honestly believed that he was still in with an outside chance. He had no idea that two giants of camp were going to arrive on stage next.

 

David Dolittle had been hiding out of the way, behind a fire door, out of shame. He really didn’t want to be there. He just wanted to put the stupid camp behind him and get on with his life. Bob Bindley had oddly insisted that this was a condition of his bail though. His Mom had also agreed to his participation, against his will, as she believed that he needed to win his honour back.

 

He entered the stage to stunned silence.

 

“David Dolittle. Starting weight 475 lbs. Current weight 578 lbs. Giving us a gain of 103 lbs.” 

Shawn hadn’t just out gained David in that one week, he had now clearly gained more than him over the course of the entire camp. His dick twitched but it wasn’t enough. No one applauded.

 

To everyone's amazement Shawn walked over to David, laid his fat left hand on his nemesis’ stupidly wide right shoulder. He spoke clearly so that everyone in the hall could hear him; 

 

“It’s ok, we’re all friends again now.”

 

David looked at him. Shawn was wearing a smile that could only be interpreted as meaning ‘I’m going to fucking kill you in your sleep.’

 

To say that David didn’t trust Shawn’s declaration of friendship would be the understatement of the millennium. David was an obnoxious gluttonous cunt, but he wasn’t stupid.

 

Axel entered the stage to a buzz of murmurs and comments. 

 

“Who the hell is that?” was being asked and answered multiple times across the room.

 

Explanations of Axel’s role in the events of the summer were being whispered into the ears of the camp two survivors who had never seen him before. They began to boo him loudly.

 

If Shawn had managed to at least partially hide his outright hatred of David he made no attempt to disguise his disdain for Axel. He stood on the side of the stage snarling.

 

“Axel Dolittle. Starting weight 334 lbs. Current weight 425 lbs. Giving us a gain of 91 lbs.”

 

A hailstorm of boos now echoed around the hall.

 

The final line up was complete. Shawn would compete against Axel, Henry, Steve, and David in the McMukbang. A total triumph for the original occupants of cabin six. He would enjoy out-eating and beating all of them.

27.

David and Axel both smartly disappeared from sight directly after the weigh-in concluded. The three lovers returned to their cabin to discuss tactics surrounded by their ever growing number of supportive friends.

 

The main discussion revolved around how much they should eat, if anything, as they prepared for the competition. The idea of purposefully going most of a day without food would normally be totally anomalous at camp but the McMukbang was the exception. It was of course a contest to see who could eat the most, and importantly for the longest. Hence, starting with a completely empty stomach could easily be seen as an advantage. Shawn wasn’t convinced though.

 

He had spotted how many of the weight-loss survivors had been physically sick after the Wendy’s breakfast, their shrunken stomachs unable to hold down the amount of food that they wanted to consume. He also had his own memories. The stomach cramps after his first breakfast, when he had pushed too far too soon in trying to keep up with the twins, and failed to finish his plate of pancakes. There was also the awful diarrhoea attack the evening before his first victory over David. The McMukbang did allow for toilet breaks but only for a maximum of ten minutes at a time. Any repeat of that sort of incident and he would most certainly be disqualified. He knew that Camp Leader Gary and the other counsellors hated David as much as he did, and wanted him to lose just as badly, but they were all honest people who would officiate the contest fairly.

 

The discussions were lively and went round and round. Tom Stanton had taken the opposite standpoint and suggested that all three of them should stuff themselves as much as humanly possible before in order to stretch their stomach capacity. He was a lone voice though, most believed that it was too late in the day for that.

 

Johnny argued that not eating for twenty four hours would actually shrink their stomach capacity, in line with Shawn’s thoughts on the issue, in which case they should just eat as normal.

 

Jake, who was still getting over his own disappointment at only just failing to qualify, suggested eating but only very little. Extremely hungry but not starving was his theory.

 

Todd Thompson pointed out that as there were three of them they could hedge their bets, increase their odds of one of them winning, by following all three suggested approaches. Shawn though was having none of this idea. He wanted to beat Steve and Henry as well. He wasn’t about to do anything that could potentially increase his lovers chances of winning.

 

In the end it was agreed between the three boys that they would eat a reasonable dinner in order to avoid the risk of any stomach shrinkage and loss of capacity but would then skip breakfast the next morning to ensure that they started the challenge feeling as hungry as possible.

 

The large group of youthful fatties left for the dining hall in high spirits, happy that they had found the best possible solution.

28.

Dinner that night turned out to be a delicious chinese buffet.

 

Shawn, Steve and Henry had agreed before entering the hall to limit themselves to a mere five plates each plus desert. The temptation was too high though and they all ended up with seven plates. Steve and Henry badly wanted an eighth, pleading with Shawn that it would be ok. Watching Jake and some of the others bust their belts as their plate counts entered double figures didn’t help. Shawn remained strict. They had agreed to all eat the same and that’s what they would do. He didn’t want his fat sexy boyfriends to gain any kind of advantage over him by eating another plate, however low the odds of that might be. In order to change the topic he pretended to only just remember that tomorrow was also his eighteenth birthday.

 

“But we haven’t got you a present!” his identical obese lovers protested. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

 

With everything that had happened that summer Shawn’s birthday just didn’t seem like a priority to him anymore.

 

“I dunno,” he muttered under his breath.

 

“I can think of a present they could give you,” Jake mumbled through a mouth stuffed full of chow mein.

 

Shawn laughed at the insinuation and smiled at the spherical twosome, “That would actually work just fine.”

 

His lovers blushed simultaneously.

 

“We’re sorry,” they said in unison.

 

All the boys looked at them puzzled. Shawn’s fat ladened brow furrowed quizzically.

 

“Sorry for what? You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

 

There was a new found tenderness in his voice that none of them had ever heard before.

 

“We’ve lied to you about our age…,” Steve continued his brother’s thought, “...had we been honest with you then David may never have been able to have us taken away…”

 

“...we really are nineteen.” Henry finished the sentence he had initially started.

 

“Oh boy’s…” Shawn was still speaking with tenderness, “I know. I’ve known for a longtime. I saw your driving licence the first time we went to WalMart. I don’t care how old you are. None of this has been your fault.”

 

He tried to lean forward to kiss them over the table but his belly was far too big and got in the way. He bashed it painfully into the edge of the solid wood table, soft fatty tissue spilling over the top and folding up underneath it. Shawn nearly knocked over his massive bowls of ice cream. That would have been a major waste as the ice cream had been patiently waiting to join the rest of the insane amount of calories constantly turning into lush new fat underneath his incredibly tight and sensitive skin.

 

Henry and Steve laughed sweetly at him. He was so big and cute and clumsy.

 

Shawn gave up his attempt to lean over to them and instead got up and walked around the table in order to plant big wet kisses on their thick greedy lips.

 

“This is all very gay and lovely,” Kai said with an unnecessary harshness, “But none of this explains how you’re both still attending camp when you exceed the legal age limit?”

 

The explanation turned out to be as simple as it was ludicrous.

 

Steve and Henry had first attended camp when they were fourteen. That first year they had impressed everyone with their size and ability to overeat. Their weight gain figures were the best that Gary had ever seen for the youngest age group. Their natural good looks and friendly fun loving demeanour endered them to almost everyone and they soon became camp favourites amongst both campers and counsellors alike, returning year after year.

 

Two years ago they had jointly won the most weight gained award, 68 lbs each. (David had been absent that year due to illness). This had posed a problem. The boy who won most weight gained was traditionally crowned king of the camp and was rewarded with a free place at camp the following year in order to ensure that he was given a chance to defend his crown.

 

His crown. One king. One free place.

 

The twins joint victory should not have proven to be so problematic, but the kind hearted owner of the camp Malcolm Dolittle had recently died of a heart attack and his mean-spirited wife, Sharon, had taken control of financial affairs as his son and appointed heir David was still legally a minor. She refused to fund two free places as Malcolm probably would have done. She even refused to pay for two ‘crowns’ stating that there was no such thing as a king and a king.

 

Fucking homophobic bitch, thought Shawn. 

 

Then against the wishes of the twins, as they already knew it was pointless, she insisted that they take part in a tie-break, a speed eating competition. First to eat twelve servings of chicken pie wins. Simple, she thought.

 

When they inevitably drew - they had the same time to within a tenth of a second - Sharon had lost her temper and refused to offer either of them the free place, claiming that they had forfeited their right to it. No one was crowned king and the twins left the camp with exceedingly overfull bellies stuffed with creamy chicken pie and a sour taste in their mouths.

 

Long story short. Their father is a lawyer and the case took over eighteen months to settle. Not wanting to miss camp last year their father had paid for them. This year was the free year. The judge sided with the twins and saw no reason why two nineteen year olds attending a camp with a standard age limit of eighteen would cause any problems if that’s what they really wanted to do.

 

“What an evil cunting bitch,” Shawn said.

29.

The next morning Shawn, Henry and Steve stayed in the cabin while the other fat campers ate their congested young hearts out. It was painful but the sacrifice was going to be worth it. 

Their huge empty bellies ached and grumbled loudly.

 

Breakfast was the standard three hours - eight till eleven, and the McMukbang didn’t start till midday, the same time as lunch. A large scaffolded stage was erected in front of the lake and temporary seating set out for two hundred heavy-set campers. Five over-sized reinforced chairs were placed on the stage behind a long and wide table. A McDonald’s truck delivered the food to the camp kitchen at 10.30am.

 

All of the preparations were in place.

 

Only one boy visited cabin six that morning. It was Luke Petrovic. He came by to offer to sell the three hungry competitors laxatives. Steve and Henry had heard in previous years that some competitors had attempted to use such drugs as an aid but they were uncertain as to their effectiveness. Shawn was dead against it and refused outright on all of their behalfs. Cheating is what cunts like David Dolittle did. He wanted to beat him fair and square.

30.

The anticipation amongst the audience was feverish. Two hundred young jampacked bellies sat eagerly awaiting the arrival of the heroic competitors. A few of those overly full heaving bellies rumbled with excitement at the sight of all the food laid out and the thought of just how much of it was about to be consumed. David and Axel entered the stage first to a chorus of howls and boos.

 

In contrast Shawn, Steve and Henry, were afforded a heroes welcome.

 

The valiant leader of the revolution and his two lieutenant’s, who had been so cruelly exiled by the tyrant Dolittle. They revelled in their celebrity.

 

There was a pause and silence fell among the crowd as Camp Leader Gary made the final necessary checks.

 

Shawn stared at the food that had been placed in front of him. It was more than he’d ever seen. More than he could ever have imagined. There was no way that anyone could eat that much. It wasn’t humanly possible. He correctly guessed that every single item from the McDonalds menu was laid out in front of him, many many times over.

 

He scanned them. There was every possible combination of breakfast items, double and single McMuffins of every type. The amount of burgers was uncountable, unguessable even. He had never seen so much fast food. The fries formed their own mountain, as did the onion rings. For the first time in seven weeks of camp he noticed the salads. So they do exist, he thought. He wouldn’t touch them. Next to the salad boxes were the deserts, amongst them masses of apple pies and chocolate donuts. He tried to count the donuts but gave up at eighty seven. His stomach howled with hunger at him. He was going to eat all of them.

 

Steve and Henry were also deep in their own thoughts, assessing the drinks. They had counted thirty supersized cups and were trying to work out which ones contained milkshakes, which ones cola, and which ones orange juice. It mattered tactically. They had been here before and were planning on using their experience to their advantage.

 

To everybody's irritation David Dolittle broke the concentrated silence on the stage.

 

“I don’t know why you forced me here and I don’t care. I never wanted to see any of you again. But now I am here I want to let you know that I’m going to fucking win. I don’t know if you know but I’m the record holder for the McMukbang, twenty six hours and twenty three minutes. None of you pussy fucking faggots stand a chance.”

 

Thanks for the motivational speech dickwad, Shawn thought.

 

Why do you have to be such a fucking twat about everything? Axel said to him.

 

Eat the fries first. Stick with the fries, they taste the worst of everything cold, thought the twins. Their ability to focus on the task in hand and not get distracted was impressive.

 

“BEGIN!”

 

None of them had even noticed Camp Leader Gary on the side of the stage.

 

There was a huge roar of excitement from the crowd, who immediately started chanting Shawn, Steve and Henry’s names.

31.

Shawn dug both of his fat hands deep into the pile of fries. He was so fucking hungry.

 

He crammed them into his mouth, reached for more and crammed them in as well. He reached for a third massive hand full that was never going to fit in his mouth and started pushing them in one by one.

 

His massive belly rumbled like thunder, his asshole and dick twitched at the thought of how fat this was going to make him.

 

He heard a low pitched whistle. It was Henry next to him.

 

Henry and Steve had also started on the fries but were eating at a much more relaxed pace than him, pretty much slower than he had ever seen them eat in fact.

 

Why are they doing that? he thought. They must easily be as hungry as I am?

 

Then it hit him. His greedy nature had already caused him to get his tactics drastically wrong.

 

Henry waved his hand up and down at Shawn, motioning him to slow down.

 

The McMukbang was not about eating quickly, it wasn’t even really about eating as much as you can. It was about eating constantly. Who could keep consuming for the most amount of time.

 

Eating like the fat greedy fuck that he was could actually go against Shawn. He had to slow down in spite of the very vocal complaints coming from his huge hollow stomach that was begging him to fill it - and to fill it fast.

 

His belly had to learn to be patient. It’s time would come.

32.

As Shawn slowed his pace the cheering for him also started to die down. His exuberant start had created quite the commotion amongst the crowd who were now chatting away amongst themselves. Many of the older ones were now busy explaining to the younger ones why their hero had suddenly slowed down.

 

The first couple of hours were fairly uneventful. All the boys on stage were easily fat and greedy enough to do this for a decent amount of time before they even began to feel the strain.

 

One of the first hurdles they needed to overcome was flavour fatigue. To avoid this both David and Axel had been randomly jumping from item to item, mixing savoury and sweet, liquids and solids.

 

The heroic lovers had mainly stuck to the fries with occasional sips of drinks to take away the flavour once it got too salty. Shawn’s decision to start with fries had at first been random, a lucky chance. However, upon noticing that the twins were both only eating fries he had realised that this must be a tactic that they had purposefully chosen and decided not to tell him about. He was ok with this, afterall he wanted to beat them, so was perfectly fine with them wanting to beat him. It was this selfish attitude that attracted the boys to each other.

 

He was also happy to copy their tactic even though he didn’t understand why they were doing it.

33.

After three hours Shawn was bored of fries and switched to burgers. He was pleased to discover that the burgers were of an amazingly wide variety. The basic McDonald’s patty and buns were always the same but every possible variation of additional topping, of options added or removed, had been considered and included. This was a real kindness when it came to keeping his taste buds interested.

 

It took five hours for him to start to really begin to feel full. Shawn hadn’t been counting but Tom Stanton in the audience was keenly telling everyone, who hadn’t gone for their own food breaks, that Shawn had already consumed thirty two burgers and an estimated forty five large portions of fries.

 

If that was true then only God knew how many fries Steve and Henry had eaten as that was all they were still munching through. They didn’t feel full at all yet.

34.

After six hours Shawn’s belly was looking noticeably swollen.

 

His stomach now felt full and tight. Not so full that he couldn’t keep eating, he was way more gluttonous than that, but full anyhow. Just stuffed to the point where any sane person would’ve stopped eating hours before.

 

He was now munching his way through a long succession of apple pies, twenty four according to Tom Stanton. He was also now taking on more fluids.

 

He had worked out by the shading on the inside of the cups which ones contained thick filling milkshakes and which ones refreshing colas. Right now he was focused on the cola. Four supersized cups of it.

 

He needed the toilet and wanted to help wash the food down with fluid now so that he wouldn’t need to drink more and end up taking another toilet break too soon. He held out for as long as he could.

 

After six and a half hours Shawn was the first to take a toilet break. Eight minutes. The relief it brought was refreshing. Not just the space it created inside him, which he was already starting to refill with a double sausage and egg McMuffin, but just the ability to stand for a few minutes and change his body position had released pressure from the lower half of his digestive system. He loved the smell of his own farts.

 

Henry and Steve, who had long since stopped just eating fries, went to the toilet together half an hour later.

 

Their beautiful spherical bellies were also clearly beginning to inflate and the handsome pair's overall dazzlingly buxom appearance caused someone in the audience to wolf-whistle as they wobbled off the stage. Shawn just smiled. He agreed. They were sexy as fuck.

 

David Dolittle had also been pacing himself like the expert that he was. After eight hours he had begun to feel full, slightly early in the day for him.

 

After nine hours he was forced to take his first toilet break due to a stinging pain in his right hand side. That fortunately sorted the problem out.

 

After ten hours Shawn’s pace had really begun to slow, the audience had thinned out so many of the other campers missed him being warned by the presiding counsellor to pick up the pace or risk being disqualified.

 

His belly was now massively distended. He looked down at it. It was clearly sticking up and out three to four more inches than it had been that morning. His t-shirt hadn’t covered his full gut for weeks but now it was riding really high. It sat atop of the massive round fat ball. His whole bloated lower abdomen was on display for all his fellow campers to see. It splayed far out into his lap causing the skin on his fat thighs to sweat under the heat and weight of it. He laid a hand on the top of the shelf and started to rub it. He could feel his stomach packed so hard and tight, deep below the inches of thick fresh fat. He slid his hand forward and down over the curvature of the round heavy billowed out ball of lard. He slid a thick index finger deep into his belly button. He slid it all the way in but couldn’t reach the bottom. His fat felt so luxuriant. He wiggled his fat finger inside his naval, feeling the immense pressure of the bloat.

 

This made him super happy as he imagined showing his newly expanded gut off to his bitter faced mother. Grabbing the soft heavy underside, feeling all of its immense weight in his hands, waving it mockingly in her stupid face while demanding that she cooks him more.

 

Shawn had almost forgotten how good he could be at motivating himself. He picked up a now stone cold BigMac and took a big greedy bite, he washed the rest of the burger down with gulps of strawberry milkshake.

 

A few voices in the crowd cheered. His renewed enthusiasm had clearly been spotted.

35.

Henry, Steve and David were all continuing to steadily work their way through their massive piles of food. It was hard to judge but they were maybe half way through the insane amount of fast food that had initially been put out for them. Axel though was clearly struggling.

 

It hadn’t been obvious at first, so few people had been paying the traitor any attention. Not the hero, not the villain, just an unpopular dickhead. It was John Jones who had spotted it and he was now texting around the camp telling everyone to head back to the stage. 

 

Something was about to happen.

 

Axel’s face was turning red and he appeared to be straining, as if he was desperately trying to hold something in.

 

Had anybody been paying him any attention they would have noted that in the last ten hours that he’d consumed; eighty four burgers, fifty eight portions of fries, thirty two donuts, and eighteen McMuffins. He had washed it all down with two hundred and forty ounces of fizzy liquid and six supersized milkshakes. And he hadn’t been to the toilet.

 

The original campers from Camp One had seen this before.

 

“He’s gonna blow!”

 

The lone voice came from the back of the audience. It was a very accurate prediction. The four other contenders looked over at Axel just in time to smell it before they saw it.

 

The foul brown liquid shot out the back of him as he collapsed backwards off his chair and onto the floor. Thank fuck that’s not me, David thought.

 

The shit kept coming, it felt like it was never ending. Axel howled in pain as the cramps took hold of him and shook his massive body something rotten.

 

After a minute or two the release slowed down enough that poor Jim, who always seemed to end up tasked with these jobs, and another counsellor, felt secure enough to enter the stage to drag him away.

 

The crowd roared and cheered as four hugely fat teenage boys ate on with renewed vigour.

 

Shawn wondered what it was that had happened to Axel. He had seen the massive boy eat literal mountains of food since the very first day of camp. He couldn’t understand how it had gone so wrong so early for him.

 

Steve could. He bought the laxatives from Luke Petrovic, Henry thought.

 

Axel had tried and failed to cheat the McMukbang.

36.

It was now nearly eleven pm and Axel’s explosive exit had created a lot of excitement so the crowd was now really big and swollen. Something new was also happening on stage to keep them entertained. 

 

Henry and Steve had started farting.

 

The terrible twins were taking it in turns to lift a heavy cheek off the chair and release a rippingly loud anal burp from deep within their tight stretched shorts.

 

Shawn naturally was loving this. He smiled and giggled as he ate on with reckless abandon despite the pain. The fun was a nice distraction from just how very much his belly now ached.

 

Every fart was met with a loud “Wahey!” from the excited teens in the crowd. Some of whom started trying to fart along in time with the boys on stage.

 

Steve and Henry were laughing wildly at each other whilst somehow keeping their focus enough on the food to ensure that they were still eating enough not to fall foul of the adjudicator. 

 

Their massively bloated balloon bellies also ached terribly, but the funny chubsters were smarter than they appeared. All their farting had a tactical advantage as it released pressure from their overflowing intestines allowing for further continued consumption.

 

The only person seemingly unimpressed by their smelly shenanigans was David Dolittle who was maybe having some sort of PTSD episode based on being on a stage covered in shit with the hanging stench of stinky gay farts in the air. He really didn’t look happy, but continued to eat.

 

After fifteen minutes or so the twins began to run out of gas. Steve’s belly still hurt terribly though and Henry was concerned that he might soon stop eating, so he gave his brother a friendly jab in the side. This released another pocket of gas and the stinky fart wafted out from between his huge soft round butt cheeks. 

 

Steve returned the favour and Henry also farted loudly from his identically sexy ass.

 

The laughter returned and Shawn gave them a knowing smile as he began to devour donut number sixty two. He would soon need a second toilet break.

 

David Dolittle meanwhile was beckoning one of the counsellors onto the stage.

 

Shawn left for the toilet ten minutes later. He needed a number two desperately. He felt full up to his forehead and had started to sweat profusely.

 

The food sweats had come on quite suddenly and he correctly took it as a warning sign to get to the bathroom. As he left he passed Camp Leader Gary and Counsellor Jim who were having quite a heated discussion on the steps leading down from the stage.

 

Gary entered the stage. The crowd stared at him. What was happening now?

 

He approached Henry and Steve.

 

“Sorry boys, but you’re both disqualified,”

 

Shawn heard the cacophony of boos but was in no state to leave the stall to see what was happening. 

 

“Everybody saw you touch each other in an effort to encourage the release of blocked gas. Physical assistance of another competitor is strictly against the rules.”

 

More boos.

 

Henry and Steve just looked at each other. They couldn’t believe that they had been so stupid, so arrogant as to forget the rules.

 

They were led off stage left barely ten seconds before Shawn reappeared stage right. David Dolittle had managed to remove them, again.

 

Not that Shawn understood this at that moment. He stared for a few brief seconds at the two empty seats. He couldn’t fathom what on Earth had happened to his closest ever friends. 

 

They were doing fine? They were so good at this?

 

Then he realised that he had to sit and continue eating. Whatever had happened he was going to make David pay for it!

37.

Shawn felt sick. His belly was now at least six inches wider than it had been at the start of the McMukbang. The once tasty McFood, that he hadn’t savoured in all seven weeks of camp, was now cold, limp and rank. Every inch of him felt heavy.

 

Lethargy was eating its way through his beautifully obese body. It was now one in the morning. Hour thirteen. How in God’s name had David ever managed to do over twenty six hours of this?

 

Shawn knew that he would never break that record. If he was to beat David then he had to somehow do it within a much shorter time frame - before he threw up.

 

David on the other hand was still eating fine. Shawn decided to study him.

 

He ate at a slow but steady pace. He mixed his food stuffs and took regular swigs of liquid, but never too much. Every couple of minutes he would touch his right hand side.

 

Wait! What?!

 

Shawn watched him even more closely while he struggled to slowly swallow his hundred and third cold hash brown.

 

The small starchy piece of deep fried potato slid slowly down his wide oesophagus till it got stuck, piled on top of the traffic jam of greasy half chewed burger patties. Twenty five of them in total. 

 

The patties were waiting for the blockage caused by one hundred and two hash browns to release, allowing them to enter the final part of their journey into his cavernous stomach bag, where they would be broken down by his hideously overworked stomach acid and bacteria. These would then turn the patty particles into mounds of lush new sexy fat that would bloat his already immense gut out even further. He would be so big, so beautiful. He dreamed of having the worlds’ biggest belly, the worlds’ most swollen tits and ass. By God, they would all love him then.

 

He took a much bigger swig of full fat cola then he intended to - half a supersized cup full. 

 

The offending hundred and two hash browns were washed down into his stomach along with the twenty five burger patties. He felt his belly suddenly swell. Both Shawn and the one hundred and third hash brown sighed with relief. Its slow descent into the abyss finally came to an end.

 

He let out a massive fucking burp, “BUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPP!”

 

The crowd cheered.

 

His belly shook and the acid in his stomach went to work even quicker.

 

David’s in real pain, he thought.

 

He picked up his pace and ate with renewed energy. He could and he would be the fattest boy ever. 

 

A small voice in the back of his head told him that power eating was absolutely the wrong thing to do but he totally ignored it.

 

Instead he chose to follow his gut instinct.

38.

“What’s he doing?” Steve asked Henry. Knowing that his brother didn’t know the answer either.

 

The twins were now sitting in the crowd with the rest of their friends cheering Shawn on.

 

What’s he doing? David Dolittle thought, as he subconsciously sped up and matched Shawn for pace.

 

Shawn kept eating.

 

Burger number ninety eight. Milkshake number twenty six. Tom Stanton was keeping a very detailed account.

 

The crowd started to chant his name again for the first time in hours, “Shawn, Shawn, Shawn!”

 

This caused him to eat even quicker, seven cold apple pies, unwrapped and eaten in barely a minute. He was phenomenal. His caloric intake must have been atmospheric by now.

 

More donuts followed by chicken nuggets. Chicken nuggets! How had he forgotten about them!

 

He desperately searched around the table for the dips, grabbing aimlessly at empty wrappers and boxes. He found some. Tore them open, lifted them to his mouth and licked them empty with his fat greedy tongue. Even his tongue had now started to accumulate fat.

 

“Ninety nuggets down, no one hundred, one hundred ten, one hundred twenty, one hundred thirty!... “

 

Tom Stanton was shouting Shawn’s massively impressive menu out loud to the rest of the cheering crowd.

 

David Dolittle couldn’t understand what was happening.

 

Why is he eating so fast? Why were they cheering so? Don’t they know it’s a tactic doomed to failure? No one can eat at that pace for very long, can they?

 

What’s his plan? I don’t trust this filthy faggot! Is he cheating? He must be doing something wrong? He’s up to something! I know it!

 

I better match him just in case.

 

David shovelled burger after burger after burger into his mouth. He felt the sharp pain in his right hand side but decided to ignore it. This was too important.

 

Shawn saw him twinge. Shawn ate even faster.

 

Shawn’s belly was ready to burst. Eight or nine inches bigger round the middle than in the morning. The next day Henry and Steve would boast that they saw it swelling before their very eyes. 

 

Shawn grabbed at more burgers, single cheese burgers, small and easy to swallow.

 

Down they went; one, two, three, four, five, six, David copied, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, How many more could he do? ...twelve, thirteen…, the whole crowd started counting and chanting out loud.

 

It felt so fucking good. He was so fucking fat.

 

“…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…,” 

 

David screamed as the side wall of his stomach burst open sending its contents flying into his bloodstream and other organs.

 

“…nineteen, twenty, twenty one…, “

 

Shawn hadn’t noticed that the giant was in total agony. He was so enjoying himself. His boner was massive and twitched from side to side. His asshole glistened deep inside his bulbous sweaty ass cheeks. He could feel his torso getting bigger and heavier with every bite. He was so fucking big. So fucking greedy. So fucking beautiful. He felt like he could keep eating like this forever. He never wanted to stop.

 

“…twenty two, twenty three..,”

 

BOOOMM!!! David fell off his chair.

 

Shawn tried to jump for joy but couldn’t, he was far too weighed down by his own immense success!!

 

He beamed radiantly.

 

David seemed to be blacking out. He would have to be quick.

 

It took super human strength but Shawn managed to lift himself from the chair, walk over to David, squat his massively bloated body low down onto the dying giants ugly fucking face, and farted. 

 

It was the worlds’ longest, loudest, smelliest fart. And it felt so fucking awesome!

 

He aimed the stench directly into David’s cunted agonised mouth. The last thing that David saw as his consciousness slipped away was Shawn’s gaping and quivering gay asshole and vibrating fat inner ass cheeks as they pulsated the stinking rotten gas of a thousand decomposing burgers deep into his nose and throat.

 

Henry, Steve and almost two hundred other obscenely fat teens cheered wildly.

 

Shawn noticed that his torn underwear was drowning in cum. He smeared some of it on David’s face, walked back over to his place and continued eating.

 

The celebrations would go on all night.

39.

The stress was getting to Sharon.

 

She had been waiting for four hours now and was unable to sit due to the hospital placing arm rests along the benches to prevent people from using them to sleep on. She was far too wide for the area that they considered to be the correct width for a human being.

 

How fatphobic could these fucking hospital people be?

 

The bariatric consultant entered the room holding a clipboard.

 

“How is he? How is my little darling?”

 

“I’m not going to lie to you Mrs Dolittle he’s in a very bad way. I strongly recommend that you give me permission for the surgery now.”

 

“But he won’t want it. He’ll hate it!” 

 

“Mrs Dolittle, we have been through this. It will save his life. You're his Mom, his next of kin. Only you can sign the permission form.”

 

“He’ll never forgive me.”

 

She took the pen, whilst wiping the tears away from her eyes, and signed the form. Consenting to the gastric band.

40.

Henry was rabidly gnawing at the skin-tight cum-soaked boxers.

 

He was determined to rip them off with his teeth. They’d barely been back in the cabin thirty seconds.

 

Shawn was laid out on his back, legs akimbo to accommodate the space for the sexy round lover biting maliciously at his crotch.

 

His mountainous belly was so swollen that it completely blocked his view of Henry. It could have been anyone greedily sucking the pints of cum out of his underwear. He wouldn’t have cared if it was. It all felt so fucking good. He deserved this.

 

Steve was spooning him on his left hand side, tucked sweetly under Shawn’s huge fat arm. Steve had let his own fat left arm rest on top of the mountain of sweet new swollen fat. He massaged it with his fingers. He could feel thousands upon thousands of calories digesting.

 

Steve had never been so hard in his life. He had never seen anyone eat so much. He’d never seen anyone so luxuriantly bloated. He swore that he could feel Shawn’s insides continuing to expand.

 

Steve lifted his own fat heavy head. With his right hand he pawed at the succulent thick layers that made up Shawn’s basketball sized left man breast till he found the nipple. It was massively distended and erect, like a flying saucer ready for take off. The fat surrounding it felt so supple, so tender, so fresh, so new! He tightly planted his fat greedy lips around the humongous nipple and sucked as hard as a starving orphaned Ethiopian baby presented with a well fed surrogate mother.

 

Shawn moaned and groaned as the pleasure rippled through every inch of fat on his obscenely bloated body. He had consumed so fucking much. He had grown so fucking fat. He had been so fucking magnificent.

 

The greedy twins continued to toy and play with his round ripe body. They knew every erogenous zone and how to excite it. 

 

Shawn was far too fucking full to move. He was having the time of his life.

 

Henry bit at the bottom of his cock just a fraction too hard.

 

He opened his eyes and realised for the first time that they weren't the only people in the room. Over on one of the other beds sat a Tiger. 

 

The tiger’s fat bloated sexy ass was protruding beautifully out of a flap. The Tiger’s cock was fat and rock hard. He was about to be fellated by a fat youth with a light blue pillowcase tied lightly around his head.

 

The case had three crudely cut holes in it for the bloated boy's eyes, and importantly, his mouth.

 

The tiger held his hands around the back of the pillowcase and thrusted forcefully, the pillowcase was being smothered by the tiger’s low hanging three hundred and fifty three pound belly. Damp muffled cries could be heard coming from the face of the pillow case which was now pressed deep within the tiger’s belly. 

 

“I’m going to shrink you with my magic cum.”

 

Shawn wasn’t sure that he had heard right but was soon distracted by Steve slapping his cock into the side of his face.

 

The soft more than chubby cheeks to each side of Shawn’s greedy gaping mouth rippled with every slap as his lips and tongue desperately tried to grab a taste of the thick dripping Swedish sausage.

 

He had it. It was warm and juicy.

 

Steve’s heavy swollen underbelly pushed down into Shawn’s forehead. He could feel all of Steve’s weight on his face.

 

”Once, I’ve shrunk you, I’m going to eat you and keep you in my big warm belly. You’ll love it in there.”

 

“Hghhmmmppff.”

 

“Please eat me. I want to die in my big tiger’s belly.”

 

Steve pulled himself out of Shawn’s mouth.

 

Henry swallowed Shawn’s balls and massaged his ring with three fat greasy fingers. He slid his fingers in. Shawn opened his eyes again. 

 

The fat tiger was shaking with pleasure as the pillow case jolted backwards and forwards.

 

Steve slowly turned his ballooned body around and grabbed hold of the sides of his flabby flabby ass cheeks. Man, some people are into some weird shit, Shawn thought, as Steve gaped his hole two inches from his face and blew a ton of noxious obese bowel gas directly into his wide open mouth.

 

Shawn was drooling like a dog. He was still so fucking hungry.

 

Steve sat on his face and he slid his tongue deep into his asshole, violently trying to lick the rest of the stink out.

 

Steve howled like a wolf and started banging his spherical belly like a tribal drum.

 

Henry raised his head from Shawn’s fat sweaty cum soaked crotch, sticky love milk attached to his lips, cheeks, and chin.

 

To Steve it looked like his own cum strewn face had risen like the early evening moon from behind the horizon of a massively round belly shaped planet.

 

Henry saw the joy of having his ass eaten out all over his brother’s beaming face. He felt the same pleasure.

 

The twins winked at each other. It was time. This was what they had been wanting since the start of the summer.

 

They lay either side of Shawn now, whispering into his ears.

 

“Really?” he said, the smile spreading across his face like thick gloops of nutella.

 

Getting him onto his knees had been a real effort, but he was comfortable again now.

 

His belly now felt even bigger as it hung down pushing into the mattress. It now stuck out further than his thighs were long. What an achievement!

 

His fat heavy face rested on four soft pillows and his lovely round moon sized ass cheeks pointed up at the night sky.

 

Henry licked at Shawn’s asshole, it tasted like 103 digested hash browns. He slid his fat fingers in and out again. He spat on it and watched the saliva drip over the button moon. He slapped the two full fat moons and shouted “I am Khonsu!” as he entered his boyfriend for the first time.

 

Steve reinserted his dick into Shawn’s mouth just at the point he needed something to bite down on. 

 

It hurt so fucking good. This fucking pig was fat enough for a proper spit roast.

 

Three hundred and eighty odd pounds of excited youthful fat pounded Shawn from both ends. His foot deep layers of fat shook, the vibrations sending wave after wave of excruciating pleasure through his body. He was delirious with joy.

 

His own fat swollen cock was trapped by his ludicrously thick thighs, pressed deep into his bloated ballooning belly.

 

Shawn was pretty much fucking his own belly fat. His dick was surrounded by it. He could sense the McMukbang digesting, hundreds of burgers and fries, and nuggets, and milkshakes, donuts,and apple pies, all still breaking down in his massive greedy gut. He could sense it all through the veins in his rock hard shaft. He was still growing fatter. There was still more to come.

 

The tiger and the pillowcase had now finished their roleplay and were watching with intense interest. 

 

The heavy pounding continued. Six giant buttocks wobbled joyously in the moonlight. Three fat ball sacks hung low and heavy, ready to burst, tingling with delight as the sperm rich thick creamy cum began to dance around inside them.

 

Mounds of soft tender fat bounced and rubbed against mounds of soft tender fat. Shawn gagged loudly as Steve broke his reflex action. Steve’s fat fingers pulled forcefully on his hair. It hurt so fucking good.

 

Henry was hammering at his prostate. It hurt so fucking good.

 

They were so fucking fat. He was so fucking fat. They had all fucking won. He had fucking won. He was so fucking huge. So fucking round. So fucking full. So fucking fat!

 

The twins opened their eyes. Looked into their own faces and screamed; 

 

“HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!!”

 

As they all came simultaneously.

 

The tiger and the pillowcase slipped out of the cabin door and into the night.

41.

The lakeside was full of excited voices. It was the final morning of camp and two hundred seriously overweight teenage boys laughed, joked, teased, and farted, in friendship groups as they waited expectantly for the final weigh-in and closing ceremony.

 

Most years the majority of the talk would have been around who had gained the most weight in total, around who was going to win camp. This year everybody already knew the answer. It was Shawn Stringer.

 

The newbie senior had surprised everyone with his veracious attitude, immense appetite, and not only his ability to gain, but his almost superhero-like ability to stuff himself beyond the known limits of human endurance.

 

He had bloated and swollen his body beyond belief. He was now fatter than any of them could have imagined possible. His huge belly was glorious. He was a true role model and they couldn’t wait to discover just how much weight he had actually put on.

 

The camp hero himself was talking in a group with Henry, Steve, Jake, Johnny, Tommy and Todd, when Kai approached. 

 

“Don’t be mad,” Kai said, “there’s someone here who wants to talk to you and I think you should hear him out.”

 

Axel appeared from behind a group of other boys. Shawn didn’t even look at him.

 

“I want to apologise. I want to explain. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. You don’t know what it’s like being a part of that family since uncle Malcom passed. They put me down constantly. They threatened me. They said that if I didn’t help them then they would send me to camp two. I didn’t want to… I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I guess I was jealous of you guys, getting so close you know. I felt left out. It’s no excuse, I know.”

 

There was a long pause. No one said anything.

 

“I tried to make it up to you. Yesterday, I tried to beat David for you. I took laxatives but I got the dosage wrong. I was so keen to beat him, to win you all back, I took too many. I’m so sorry. I just want us to be friends again. Can you please… Can you please ever forgive me?”

 

Shawn looked at Kai. His eyes were full of hatred.

 

“What the fucking hell do you think you’re playing at?”

 

“W..w..what? M-m-me?” Kai stuttered, he was taken aback. “What have I done?”

 

“You’ve brought that treacherous shit stain into my presence on my big day. What the fuck were you thinking!?”

 

“I just thought… he just came to me… I just thought his explanation sounded reasonable… and that… er maybe you would forgive him?”

 

Axel tried to look at his feet but his body was in the way. He already knew he had failed. He would never win back his friends.

 

Shawn was incandescent with rage; 

 

“Forgive him? Are you as fat in your fucking head as you are in the gut? I’m never forgiving him! He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness! He sold out his best friends. He sided with an evil tyrant and had the love of my life sent to jail for a crime that isn’t even a crime! And what’s his pathetic fucking explanation? Ohh, he was scared! Poor Axel was scared!” 

 

Kai was frozen to the spot.

 

“The poor fat fucking dumb dumb! Scared to go to a camp that he knew was torturing his peers! That he knew about all along and said nothing against! That he lied to us about! He let others suffer while hiding his true privileged identity. And then he sold me down the fucking river!”

 

“Well I’m not his fucking nigger!! - I’m not his to fucking sell! - Fuck him! - Fuck him! - Fuck him! - Fuck him all the way to hell!!!

 

Steve put his hands around Shawn’s shoulders to try and calm him down.

 

“That will do Shawn..,” Henry said, “Kai’s heard enough.”

42.

With over double the amount of camp attendees at the final weigh-in as there were at the first, the session took over twice as long, almost two hours in total. Everyone still had a great time though, there was a party atmosphere with plenty of snacks to go around to keep everyone entertained.

 

Every fat camper’s final figures were met with rapturous applause and cheers.

 

The ex-inmates from camp two were able to celebrate their regains and even if some of these were small, fifteen to twenty pounds, they were still a great first step in the right direction and every newly regrowing lad left feeling motivated and encouraged. Even the smallest of them, another boy called Sean, had regained ten pounds.

 

The boys were once more being called up by age order so Steve, Henry, and Shawn once more had to wait till last.

 

This worked out great as it only helped to build the dramatic tension. Everyone wanted to know just how many pounds Shawn Stringer had gained. 

43.

The cabin six gay boys watched and cheered as their friends entered the stage to have their final results read out and receive a certificate of camp participation and a giant Mars Bar.

 

“Johnny Smith, gained 67 lbs!” “Kai Williams, gained 75 lbs!” “Jake Joseph-Jackson gained 88 lbs!”

 

Jake's numbers in particular were very impressive.

 

He received a standing ovation for smiling broadly and burping in Camp Leader Gary’s face as he had informed the crowd that 88 lbs would have been enough to win in fourteen out of the last twenty four years. 

 

Steve and Henry were called on stage together. They also received a standing ovation for their gains. 94 lbs. Their bellies had swollen from 58 to 68 inches. More than enough to win in most previous years. They had in fact won in a previous year.

 

They were so beautiful.

 

The twins were asked to remain on stage as Shawn’s name was called. He entered the stage to a standing ovation. Camp Leader Gary called for quiet as he prepared the scales, the tape measure and the extender.

 

“Shawn Stringer, starting weight 230 lbs, starting belly size 42 inches.”

 

He paused for effect.

 

“Shawn Stringer, current weight 383 lbs, current belly size 68 inches.”

 

The applause was deafening. It took several minutes for it to die down.

 

“I therefore hereby declare that Shawn Stringer is crowned King of the Camp with a new camp record total weight gain of 153 lbs and increased belly size of 26 inches!!”

 

There was a raucous cheer as two hundred overweight teens stamped their feet, clapped and hi-fived each other's fat hands.

 

A marching band that on one knew was there started up. The music was loud, patriotic, and triumphant.

 

The rest of The Round Knights of the Kitchen Table came on stage and formed a guard of honour through which Shawn was led by his boyfriends to carefully climb the two steps onto the plinth where he could finally plonk his huge ass down in the wide thrown that had been placed centre stage just for him.

 

Camp Leader Gary placed a golden crown made out of cheeseburger wrappers on his fat sweaty head as the beautifully buxom twins placed a peck on each of his lovely chubby swollen cheeks.

 

He looked like an immensely obese Abraham Lincoln looking down over the capitol.

 

His face was beaming like the sun. His huge belly, bloated like a hot air balloon spilled so far out into his lap that it reached his knees. It hung over the sides of his thick tree-trunk thighs, where it climbed up and around his sides to join his thick fat love handles that rode up against the sides of the extra-wide throne.

 

He breathed in and out deeply, his massive belly falling and rising with each breath. His fat young impressionable audience were transfixed by him.

 

He lay his huge heavy arms and hands on the arms of the throne and surveyed the wondrous scene while he waited.

 

Counsellor Jim hoisted a Stars and Stripes up the flagpole behind him and the band started to play The Star-Spangled Banner as two hundred youthfully obese Americans began to sing at the tops of their voices.

 

Shawn fell into a delicious daydream.

 

He was Fat Moses leading the chubby slaves out of Memphis, Egypt to an all-inclusive all-you-can-eat buffet in good ol’ Memphis, Tennessee. He was Fat George Washington leading his tubby troops across the Delaware. He was Fat Gandhi leading millions of little fat Indian’s from British subservience to a really fucking good Indian restaurant. He was the whole fucking train that served the underground railroad.

 

Shawn never had been very good at history. He had never been very good in school.

 

But he had been fucking awesome at this.

44.

Every person who was there that day swore that they saw the king’s glorious belly swell another three or four inches while he was sitting on his throne.

 

The more religious campers said that it was a miracle.

 

Others said that his belly was feeding on pride.

Epilogue

 

Martha and Steve were peering out from behind the net curtain as the triplets approached the driveway. He didn’t want Tweedle Dum, Dee, or Daa in his house. They went to the front door and walked outside to meet them.

 

Martha couldn’t take her eye’s off his gut. To her it looked like he had consumed his entire body weight in chocolate five times over.

 

“Hi Mom,” Tweedle Daa said, “It’s been a while.”

 

“What exactly do you want from us?” Steve asked, his tone hinged with annoyance and desperation.

“I want you to order Pizza while these two eat out my asshole.”

Shawn was eighteen now.

Shawn was in control.