Dyson lived in a dream world; a world where he was big and popular. In his dreams he was round and plush and plump. In his dreams he was able to hoover up massive amounts that swoll his bulbous belly. He felt so full and warm, he was confident and satisfied. Funny, and talkative, he had friends who would laugh at his jokes and slap him on the back, causing his belly to wobble before one of them would offer him another donut or slice of cherry pie. Dyson often daydreamed in school, passing the lonely hours in the cafeteria wishing that he was the better version of himself.

 

Jylian nudged him in the back in order to wake him from his reverie. Dyson looked down at his iron flat stomach and sighed, “What is it, man?” “Why didn’t you tell us that your cousin was starting school today?” “My cousin? I don’t have a cousin.” “Sure you do, Tyson, he’s over there.” Jylian pointed at a boy who was standing in the queue at the counter waiting to be served. He had his back to them yet Dyson still knew immediately that he had never seen him before. The new boy was clearly overweight, about the same height as Dyson, with the same hair colour and style. Dyson took note of his fat calves and thick thighs leading up to two round chubby protruding cheeks. This boy had the type of rear shelf that Dyson had always dreamed of. He wore black sneakers, the same brand as Dyson’s, and identical cargo shorts. His t-shirt also appeared to be the same style though where Dyson’s hung loose and baggy the new boy’s clung tight to his soft doughy love handles. From behind Dyson could tell that the boy’s abdomen was heavily loaded with fatty tissue. The wide love handles curved inwards as his eyes were hypnotically drawn higher up the torso where his body line moved outwards again. A soft bulge just under both armpits was clearly visible, heavily suggestive of the large doughy breasts that the boy surely displayed on the other side.

 

Dyson watched him silently while Jylian stood quietly watching Dyson watching him. The new boy reached the serving section of the counter and he watched as Darlene, the elderly dinner lady, piled a large portion of something onto his tray. There was then a pause while the new boy asked the old dinner lady a question. She smiled pleasantly at him and they both appeared to laugh. Darlene disappeared momentarily and the students behind Tyson in the queue seemed displeased by the hold up, that was until the new boy turned to them, said something inaudible from Dyson’s position and they all laughed. This turn of the head allowed Dyson a first glimpse of the new boy’s face. It was soft and round but eerily familiar. In portrait his nose was flat and slightly freckled in the same way that Dyson disliked about his own nose. Darlene returned carrying a tub of ice cream. She scooped out several large spoonfuls and placed them in a bowl on the new boy’s tray. He now turned to make his way to the desert and drinks fridge, giving Dyson a full profile view from the right hand side. The boy did indeed have soft doughy breasts but they were nothing compared to his large bulging belly that strained the seams of the cotton t-shirt that was desperately trying to hold it in. It reminded Tyson of how he used to look when he was younger, when he would place a fully inflated balloon underneath his t-shirt and then admire himself in the mirror. Watching this boy was just like watching one of his dreams. Tyson reached out to open the fridge door, the lifting movement of his arm caused his t-shirt to ride up exposing a thick layer of white fat that hung full and heavy over the waistline of his shorts. Dyson felt a cold tingle run through him. “I said…” Jylian repeated, “I said he has to be your cousin, you look so alike!” Dyson didn’t respond, he was transfixed. He watched as the new boy paid for his meal and turned to look for a seat.

 

To Dyson’s horror, Jylian waved at him and beckoned him towards them. The new boy smiled widely and Dyson watched in dread as the balloon belly made its way towards him. “My God,” Jylian proclaimed, “you two could be twins not cousins!” Dyson remained silent, his eyes fixed on the mountain of food laid out on the tray, hovering over the belly. Tyson laid the tray down carefully on the table before taking a good long look at his skinny cousin. “Well there is one clear difference between us,” he said with a smile as he slapped his giant belly and laughed. “Well, I would never comment on such a thing normally,” Jylian said, “but it does appear that you like your food.” Tyson laughed, “I love it!” he said. “How about you, cuz? Do you like to eat?” Tyson and Dyson made eye contact for the first time. It was like looking into his own soul. When no response came, Tyson sat down. Jylian followed him.

 

“I guess you weren’t expecting me?” “Er, no,” was all that Dyson could bring himself to say. “I arrived late last night and wanted to get to school early this morning in order to register before first class. That will be why we haven’t bumped into each other yet.” “W-what? Why would we have met before?” Tyson picked up his fork and slowly dug it deep into the centre of the huge pile of spaghetti on his plate. He twisted it around and around in a very precise effort to collect as much as possible. He raised the overloaded fork and fed himself a big mouthful, sucking intently on the long dangling strands as they slithered up towards his thick red lips. He once more made eye contact with Tyson as he licked some loose sauce from around his mouth and dug his fork back in. “Do you like to eat?” he asked Tyson, before refilling his mouth. In his dreams, Dyson loved to eat. In his dreams, Dyson could devour whole universes. “Not so much,” he muttered. Jylian looked at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat?” Tyson frowned with concern. “I’m just not keen on school food, that’s all.” “I couldn’t disagree more, this is some of the best school food I’ve ever tasted!” Tyson said, as he swallowed another large fork full. Dyson looked down at his fat doppelganger’s plate and was amazed to discover that it was already half empty. How quickly could this guy eat? How long had they been there?

 

Tyson finished the plate before he spoke again. “I hope you don’t mind me saying cousin, but you do look like you could do with a bit more meat on your bones.” “I’ve been saying that to him for years,” Jylian added. “I’m ok with my body size.” “Nonsense!” Tyson spat the word out with a surprising amount of force. “I’ve been bulking for years and feel great for it!” Tyson once more gave his balloon belly a healthy pat, causing both Dyson and Jylian to laugh. “I guess that’s why you’ve got four desserts?” Jylian said. “Plus the ice cream,” Tyson corrected, “I had to ask nicely for that.” Dyson couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed the amount of muffins on his cousin’s tray before. It was like they had appeared from nowhere. Was he that distracted? “I aim for at least six to eight thousand calories a day, though sometimes I eat way more,” Tyson boasted as he smeared a spoonful of ice cream on top of one of the muffins. “We could start you on half of that?” The comment was aimed at Dyson. “I..I..er don’t think I could ever eat that much, not in real life.” Tyson’s eyes glinted. He smushed the entire muffin into his gaping mouth and shuddered as the wave of satisfaction washed over him. Neither Jylian or Dyson had ever seen such greed. It was mesmerising. 

 

“D-do you have a target weight?” Dyson asked, a tiny bit of confidence coming over him. “Hmmmm,” was all that Tyson could say, due to his mouth being full of a second ice cream covered muffin. Jylian filled the wait for an answer with his own question. “How much do you both weigh at the moment?” Tyson was still eating so he looked over to Dyson who wore a terrified expression. Tyson swallowed and burped. “I’m currently 290 and looking to get to 350 as soon as possible.” “Why?” Dyson asked. “Because I want to look as good as I can at graduation in three months' time,” Tyson replied. He once more smiled widely at Dyson and held eye contact with his cousin for slightly longer than would be normal. He only broke it off when he seemed to reflect on his own comment and hence remembered to eat the third muffin. He munched happily away while Jylian pushed Dyson for an answer. “So how much do you weigh?” Dyson shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. “140” he mumbled under his breath. He could have drowned in shame. “Amazing!” Jylian exclaimed. “If you two were closer in weight I swear I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart!” “Maybe that’s why I’m here?” Tyson said cheekily. “To help my dear cousin would be a dream come true.” Dyson looked down away from his cousin’s fat happy face as it seemed to be surveying his for positive confirmation. He felt penetrated. He focused once more on Tyson’s tray. All the muffins were gone, yet there were still five cakes and a full bowl of ice cream. When had he eaten the fourth?

 

Tyson rose from his chair. His curved out ballooned stomach looked distinctively bigger than before he had sat down. His tray finally empty, the bell had just gone to call them back to class. A deep rumbling burp burst up from the depths of his overladen gut and expelled itself out into the cafeteria for everyone to hear. He laughed loudly and shook his stuffed belly. “I’ll see you at home for dinner,” he said to Dyson. “Yeah, see you at home,” Dyson replied. “What a cool guy!” Jylian commented, “He’s going to fit in well here.”

Tyson sat opposite Dyson at the dinner table. His Mom and Dad were seated at opposite ends. The oven hot pot roast steamed appetisingly in the centre of the table. “How was your day at school today?” Dad asked, while Mom served. “Great!” Tyson replied, “I came home almost 10 lbs heavier than when I left after breakfast.” “That’s great son, good for you,” Dad said. Dyson frowned at his father. He was acting weird. “We’ve agreed that I’m going to help Dyson bulk.” Now it was Tyson’s turn to receive the frown. “That’s lovely. I knew you boys would get along,” Mom said as she heaped a huge amount of pot roast onto both boys’ plates. Tyson dug in immediately and was soon calling for seconds. Dyson on the other hand could barely stand to eat more than a couple of mouthfuls. He pushed the meat around in the gravy, trying to hide some of it under the vegetables in an effort to make it seem like he had eaten more than he had. Tyson took a third portion.

 

The smell of cherry pie, still cooking in the oven, wafted into the room. It made Dyson feel like he was going to heave. Tyson’s lips drooled in anticipation. His belly already felt stuffed to the brim, but he knew that he could consume more. So long as he kept piling on the fat then he would keep eating.

 

The crust was baked to perfection. Clean and crispy the first few bites crunched in his mouth causing his saliva ducts to open. After that the pastry started to get soggier as it soaked up the double cream and ice cream, but it still tasted awesome. Sweet and gooey by the end. The filling was rich and sweet. Mom had clearly used just the right amount of sugar. The piping hot cherry jam mixed with the cold ice cream caused his tongue to dash around as he desperately cleaned the sticky filing off the roof of his mouth and the back of his teeth; not wanting to waste an ounce. It was the most delicious pie that he had ever tasted. He couldn’t believe that neither Mom, Dad, nor his cousin had wanted any. All claimed to be too full after the pot roast. Idiots. He licked his spoon clean and dropped it into the empty bowl with a clang. As the whole pie settled into his stomach, he leant back in his chair in order to release some of the pressure. As he rocked blissfully on the creaking hind legs, he slowly felt up his left breast. It felt thicker and firmer, he knew that he was getting fatter. His over ripe and ballooned belly stuck squarely out under the bottom of his t-shirt. It was rounded out and bursting with all the flavours of the home cooked meal. He was so self-satisfied that he didn’t notice his cousin sitting drooling opposite him, trying hard to hide his embarrassment.

 

As his parents left the table Tyson asked them if it was ok to borrow the car. He wanted to go out and see some of the town with Dyson. “Of course,” Dad said. “I’m tired. I think I’d rather just get an early night,” Dyson responded. “Don’t be rude, dear,” his Mom told him, “your cousin is new in town and wants to hang with you. It will be a good chance to get to know each other better.”

 

In the car, Dyson was not surprised to hear Tyson ask him which the best restaurants were in town. Dyson told him that Jones’ was the best sit down restaurant but it was too late to go there. The only real option now was fast food. Tyson said, “Cool, I’m up for anything, but I’d like to try something new.” This left McConnegals as the best option. It was a local, independent, twenty four hour place that served burgers and pizzas. “Sounds awesome!” Tyson said. “I love fast food but I do get bored by all of the usual chains.”

 

As it was late, only the drive through was open. Tyson ordered twelve cheese burgers and fries, two large pizzas, and six large Cokes. “How can you possibly still be that hungry? Dyson asked him. Tyson laughed, “It’s for both of us, dumbie!” “Yeah, but that’s still a massive amount of food. I really don’t think I can eat anywhere near that much!” “Well, let’s just give it a go and see how we do,” Dyson said with encouragement. They pulled up to the next window and the server, a girl from school called Charlene, handed the giant order to Dyson in the driver seat, who was illuminated by the interior light. “Tyson, is that you?” she said. Her eyes rolled up and down as she assessed the mammoth belly that was almost pushing up against the steering wheel. “My, you’ve put on weight!” Dyson just grinned at the compliment. “Oh, that was rude of me,” she said, mistaking his smile for a fake one. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just you’ve changed so much since last term.” “It’s fine,” Dyson said, “I’ve been bulking.” With that he closed the window and they drove off and parked in a secluded spot in the far corner of the car park.

 

“Who was that?” Dyson asked. “Oh, that’s Charlene. We used to have chemistry together. I never really spoke to her.” “Well, I think she likes you.” “You mean she likes you. It was your body that she commented on.” “But she thought she was talking to you,” Dyson insisted. “We can't let her down now, let’s dig in!” With that Tyson opened the grease stained bag and tossed Dyson a burger, before reaching in and fetching himself two.

 

Tyson set about eating like a man who had been wandering starving and naked in a desert for a week. He took huge bites and scoffed down the fat juicy patties in record time, followed by huge slugs of his Cola. Dyson on the other hand took only a few nibbles of his before he felt like he was going to vomit. Why could he never bring himself to eat? He desperately wanted to be fat, and now here he was with this dream version of himself, confident, outspoken, and open about his love of fat and food, yet he felt too full to eat anything. Nobody seemed to judge Tyson for it. Why did he find it so hard to overindulge?

 

Dyson was four burgers in before he looked up to notice that Tyson wasn’t eating. “What’s wrong, man?” he asked. “I r-really w-want to, but I j-just can’t.” “Okay, dude. Don’t worry, I got you. You can just watch and learn from me.” “But how will I ever bulk if all I do is watch you eat?” “How does a baby learn to walk or talk eh?” Tyson asked him. Dyson didn’t answer so Tyson answered his own question. “They just watch and copy. Watch and copy! And I’m the best, so all you gotta do is watch me and I promise the pounds will start to come.” Dyson smiled gingerly as he handed his partly eaten burger to his identical but very fat cousin, who stuffed it whole into his mouth and appeared to swallow without chewing.

 

Tyson watched his cousin devour the entire feast over the next hour or so. He seemed so happy and content as his huge belly visibly swelled. Ketchup, tomato, and cheese stains dripped from his fat chin down onto his heaving chest. Dyson was clearly finding it harder to breathe as his heavy breasts seemed to thicken and grow with every blotch of sauce that fell onto them. His thick fat fingers were smothered in grease and he continuously licked them clean to no avail. For as soon as he had cleaned them he would reach in and grab another greasy burger or gooey slice of pizza. Tyson had never seen anyone eat so much. It was almost unbelievable. If he hadn’t dreamt it so often he almost wouldn’t have believed it.

 

It was about three quarters of the way through the feast that Tyson noticed that his cousin was aroused. A large protrusion was very clearly visible through the tight cloth of his shorts. Dyson had often had wet dreams about eating this much food, about being as fat as Tyson, so he didn’t think much about it. It was just another thing that he and his cousin had in common.

 

Dyson noticed him looking. He rubbed the underside of his bloated belly, belched, and asked, “Would you like to touch it?” “B-but we’re cousins? W-wouldn’t that be a b-bit w-weird?” “It’s just touching, and I’m fine with it. That’s all that matters.” “I w-want to b-but…” “It will help me eat more, you want me to eat more, right?” Dyson didn’t answer. Tyson just reached over and took his skinny hand and placed it flat directly below his deep wide belly button. Dyson sighed. “Just rub here to start with,” he instructed, before going in for another bag of fries. Dyson touched, stroked, and pawed his hands all over Tyson’s expanding belly and breasts while his all-consuming cousin continued to stuff himself in his endless pursuit of becoming an endless ball of fat.

 

As Tyson took the final bite of the final slice of pizza a look of delirium crossed his bloated face. Both boys were now firmly gripping themselves. Tyson felt fuller and fatter than he ever had in his life. 350 could not be far away. He watched his mountainous gut rise and sink as both boys emptied their life force onto the floor of the car. Dyson felt like he was floating above his seat. Like he’d ejaculated his own consciousness out of his body. He couldn’t wait to be like Tyson, to eat even more. As an uncontrollable tiredness washed over him. He reached up and pulled down the sunvisor in order to see his own contentment in the vanity mirror. As sleep overcame him his cousin's fat bloated face smiled down at him from the mirror.

 

Tyson woke up the next morning to the sound of his alarm clock and hit snooze as usual. Ten minutes later it buzzed again and he heaved his tired body out of bed and into the bathroom. His years-old dressing gown too small for him, he stood shivering naked in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth before stepping onto the scale. Still too low. Like every morning. He returned to his room, got dressed, and made his way down for breakfast.

Hungrier than usual his Mom was pleasantly surprised to see him eat a box of pop tarts on top of his cereal, smoothie, and pancakes. He hoovered so much food up in fact that his Mom had started to wonder if Dyson even had a stomach bag. Maybe the food just turned to fat directly in his mouth? His belly still rumbling, he made his way out of the front door. Jylian was waiting for him in the street. “Hey fatboy, how are you doing?” “Fine, but I’m still flatlining at 350.” “Don’t worry, dude. Just keep being the best version of yourself and I’m sure the scale will catch up!”

 

A strange feeling came over Dyson, like a cold winter’s chill. He paused as if searching for some kind of internal confirmation to quell his confusion. He looked down at his iron flat stomach and so wished that he could be fat like in his dreams. A memory prompted, he looked up at his front door. “Are you waiting for someone, Tyson? Jylian asked. “Yeah, my cousin Dyson. He’s staying with us for a while. He's a big fat guy, funny and outgoing, looks just like me. I think you’ll like him.” “What are you on about, fatty?” Jylian said. “You don’t have a cousin.”