Non Serviam
Active Member
~BHM, ~BBW, Intrigue, ~SWG - Visiting a cousin leads to discovery of a different and fillling lifestyle
[Author's Note: This story is set in my home and native land of Scotland, so I'll try to explain any cultural references you might not get as the story goes on. As I'm sure all you cultured people know, we don't run around in kilts shouting "Hoots, mon!" and calling for the blood of the English (well, not very often). The characters are mostly desperately middle-class like me, so their accents would not be strong. I hope this will be quite a long story - there is a plan, believe me - and I will make good on my promise for some WG as soon as it is appropriate.]
Stepping off the train and blinking in the sunlight, Roy MacLeod looked around him confusedly. Until six weeks ago, he hadn’t even known he had a cousin Howie. He’d never heard of the town of Aberfetney, and he had certainly had never imagined he might be spending his entire summer there.
So, he was understandably disoriented as he looked up and down the tiny station’s single platform. Howie had said on the phone that he’d be wearing a red t-shirt. Roy scanned the platform for a splash of red. Nope, no-one. Well, except that one fat guy over there. Wow, he was huge. But where was Howie?
The fat guy began to waddle in his direction. Roy looked around. Where was his cousin? Could he have forgotten? He might be the most forgetful person ever, a complete scatterbrain – Roy didn’t even know him. The big teen in the red t-shirt seemed to be trying to get past him. Roy moved aside, saying, “Sorry.” The guy didn’t move.
“Are you Roy?” he asked, smiling.
“Howie?” Roy exclaimed. “I mean – wow – nice to meet you. I didn’t – I wasn’t expecting –“
Howie laughed, a great booming laugh, and slapped his huge belly, making it jiggle. “Never mind, never mind! It’s great to see you at last! Long-lost cousins, eh? The world is very strange.”
As they made their way to Howie’s house, he told Roy all about himself and the town of Aberfetney. Roy didn’t mind that Howie did all the talking – he was still in a state of some shock. Howie really was obese – his big flabby arms, his double chin, not to mention the bulging stomach jutting out some way ahead of him as he went.
They arrived at a big red brick house at the end of the street – much bigger than Roy’s house at home. The door was answered by a young boy, about ten years old. Howie ruffled his hair as he crossed the threshold. “Hey, wee man. Roy, this is my brother, Donnie. Donnie, this is Cousin Roy.” Donnie looked up wide-eyed, but before Roy could make any kind of greeting, a woman’s voice came from a door further down the hall.
“Ooh, he’s here! I’m just coming, hold on…” A pretty and curvaceous woman wearing an apron bustled out and, seeing Roy, swept to give him a kiss on each cheek. Roy was a little taken aback. “Hi, hi, I’m Janet, you must be Roy. I’m your aunt! I can’t believe it’s taken this long to meet you! I keep telling John he should write to his brother or at least give him a phone call, but he just ignores me! I’m so glad your dad made the first move.” Roy decided not to interrupt Aunt Janet’s flow by telling her that it was only out of desperation that his father had called his estranged brother – it was the only cheap way of getting Roy out from under his feet for the holiday. “Oh, but let me look at you. You’re so skinny! We’ll have to get some good food down you over the holidays. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Roy managed to say, then, “Uh, thanks for having me to stay. I -“
“Oh, it’s no problem at all, the more the merrier! You’re the same age as Howie and Ishbel, I’m sure they’ll love having you around.” She turned to Howie, saying, “Why don’t the four of you go out for dinner tonight? Your dad and I are going to Alphonso’s, but he’ll be late home from work and besides, I think you’ll probably all want to go somewhere a bit less fancy. Here you go,” she said, pushing quite a large wad of banknotes into one of Howie’s pudgy hands. “Probably best go sooner rather than later. Roy, you can have the front bedroom, Howie’ll show you where it is. Just dump your stuff and head out when you’re ready.” She kept nattering away as she hurried back to the kitchen.
It was only then that Roy was able really to take in the hall. It was huge – at least six doors led off it, and one seemed to open onto a longer passageway. There was also a wide, impressive staircase on one side, leading up to the next floor, and so when Howie said, “D’you want to go up, then?” it was in this direction that Roy moved.
“Nah, let’s go this way,” said Howie, grinning. “Stairs are a bit too much work for my liking.” Concealed around a corner was the door to a lift. Roy tried to conceal his amazement – no one he knew had a lift in their house. It was becoming apparent that his cousins were incredibly rich. Howie pressed the button and the lift arrived. It was spacious inside, and Roy noticed that the buttons went all the way up to a third floor. Howie hit the one labeled “1,” and they rose, arriving with a “ding.”
Roy’s room was absolutely massive. It sported a king-size bed, a desk with a state-of-the-art computer, a widescreen TV, a mini-fridge and an en suite bathroom that was larger than the one Roy’s whole family had at home. He didn’t have long to marvel at it, though, because as soon as he had dumped his suitcase, Howie poked his head round the door and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
In the landing before they got into the lift, they were joined by Ishbel, Howie’s twin sister. They were very alike. While not quite as large as her brother, Ishbel still had an ample figure, which she crammed into a pair of tight denim shorts and a crop top. Roy found himself trying especially hard not to stare at her exposed and bulging midriff as they rode down in the lift. What did these people eat?
Howie drove them, even though it was only two streets away; clearly, Roy realized, they weren’t used to taking exercise. The restaurant was called the “Hot Potato,” and the waiter who saw them in clearly knew the others well. “Come on in,” he smiled, shaking Howie’s hand. “Your usual table?”
This, it turned out, was a circular table of the kind usually used for larger parties but in this case set only for four. Roy did wonder briefly why there were five chairs, but all became clear when Howie sat down: one for each buttock. They were brought menus, and as the waiter left to get their drinks, Howie turned to Roy and said, “Forget everything you know about food, cuz. Tonight you eat like us.” Each of them ordered three starters, and so Roy did too – maybe you got three on a plate or something, he reasoned. He ordered jumbo prawns, nachos and soup – each of which came on its own considerable-size plate. The others dug in with gusto, and while Roy was hungry, by the end of it he felt much less so. He didn’t know if he could handle a main course as well.
To be polite, however, he ordered a burger and chips, managing to eat the whole thing before Howie said, “Right. Let’s have another go. I’ll have the fried chicken this time, I think.” Roy’s eyes bulged, and was about to protest – but the food had been really good so far, and he loved a bit of good fried chicken. No one was saying he had to finish it all; maybe just give it a go. He didn’t want to seem like a fussy eater in front of his new family.
It was this rationale that carried him through the meal, but since dessert was a double whammy as well – a slice of cheesecake so vast it was unbelievable and then a chocolate fudge sundae – by the end of it Roy was really wishing he’d known when to stop. His stomach felt like a bowling ball, and it seemed about the size of one; he’d had to undo the button of his jeans to relieve some of the pressure. By the time they left to go out to the car, he was waddling as much as any of the others.
That night, Roy sat at the desk in the front bedroom, bent over his journal, feeling strange. Roy wrote in his journal every night, taking down the events of the day, his thoughts and any ideas which occurred to him, for Roy’s ambition was to be a writer. He was worried his dad, who wanted him to get a steady job in an office or something, would not approve, so he kept his aspirations private, confined to the journal and sometimes his close friends. Not that he had many – Roy was, in the main, a quiet type, and often he preferred to stay on the fringes and do things his own way.
An odd feeling was brewing in Roy now, and he wasn’t sure what to write. He was beginning to get over the evening’s feast – although he still couldn’t move too quickly; his belly was too tender – and he felt very contented. He still thought he’d made an absolute pig of himself, even though all the others had eaten far more than he. He couldn’t help wondering – what if he kept this up all summer? Okay, he wasn’t going to end up like Howie in seven weeks, but still… he could do some serious damage. Roy hated sports and he’d never been muscular or stick-thin, but never anywhere close to fat either. The thought of being a bit fatter didn’t seem all that bad, really. He smiled to himself, closed the journal, and went to bed.
[Author's Note: This story is set in my home and native land of Scotland, so I'll try to explain any cultural references you might not get as the story goes on. As I'm sure all you cultured people know, we don't run around in kilts shouting "Hoots, mon!" and calling for the blood of the English (well, not very often). The characters are mostly desperately middle-class like me, so their accents would not be strong. I hope this will be quite a long story - there is a plan, believe me - and I will make good on my promise for some WG as soon as it is appropriate.]
A Visit of Discovery
Chapters 1-10
By Non Serviam
Chapter One: In Which Our Hero Arrives
Chapters 1-10
By Non Serviam
Chapter One: In Which Our Hero Arrives
Stepping off the train and blinking in the sunlight, Roy MacLeod looked around him confusedly. Until six weeks ago, he hadn’t even known he had a cousin Howie. He’d never heard of the town of Aberfetney, and he had certainly had never imagined he might be spending his entire summer there.
So, he was understandably disoriented as he looked up and down the tiny station’s single platform. Howie had said on the phone that he’d be wearing a red t-shirt. Roy scanned the platform for a splash of red. Nope, no-one. Well, except that one fat guy over there. Wow, he was huge. But where was Howie?
The fat guy began to waddle in his direction. Roy looked around. Where was his cousin? Could he have forgotten? He might be the most forgetful person ever, a complete scatterbrain – Roy didn’t even know him. The big teen in the red t-shirt seemed to be trying to get past him. Roy moved aside, saying, “Sorry.” The guy didn’t move.
“Are you Roy?” he asked, smiling.
“Howie?” Roy exclaimed. “I mean – wow – nice to meet you. I didn’t – I wasn’t expecting –“
Howie laughed, a great booming laugh, and slapped his huge belly, making it jiggle. “Never mind, never mind! It’s great to see you at last! Long-lost cousins, eh? The world is very strange.”
As they made their way to Howie’s house, he told Roy all about himself and the town of Aberfetney. Roy didn’t mind that Howie did all the talking – he was still in a state of some shock. Howie really was obese – his big flabby arms, his double chin, not to mention the bulging stomach jutting out some way ahead of him as he went.
They arrived at a big red brick house at the end of the street – much bigger than Roy’s house at home. The door was answered by a young boy, about ten years old. Howie ruffled his hair as he crossed the threshold. “Hey, wee man. Roy, this is my brother, Donnie. Donnie, this is Cousin Roy.” Donnie looked up wide-eyed, but before Roy could make any kind of greeting, a woman’s voice came from a door further down the hall.
“Ooh, he’s here! I’m just coming, hold on…” A pretty and curvaceous woman wearing an apron bustled out and, seeing Roy, swept to give him a kiss on each cheek. Roy was a little taken aback. “Hi, hi, I’m Janet, you must be Roy. I’m your aunt! I can’t believe it’s taken this long to meet you! I keep telling John he should write to his brother or at least give him a phone call, but he just ignores me! I’m so glad your dad made the first move.” Roy decided not to interrupt Aunt Janet’s flow by telling her that it was only out of desperation that his father had called his estranged brother – it was the only cheap way of getting Roy out from under his feet for the holiday. “Oh, but let me look at you. You’re so skinny! We’ll have to get some good food down you over the holidays. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Roy managed to say, then, “Uh, thanks for having me to stay. I -“
“Oh, it’s no problem at all, the more the merrier! You’re the same age as Howie and Ishbel, I’m sure they’ll love having you around.” She turned to Howie, saying, “Why don’t the four of you go out for dinner tonight? Your dad and I are going to Alphonso’s, but he’ll be late home from work and besides, I think you’ll probably all want to go somewhere a bit less fancy. Here you go,” she said, pushing quite a large wad of banknotes into one of Howie’s pudgy hands. “Probably best go sooner rather than later. Roy, you can have the front bedroom, Howie’ll show you where it is. Just dump your stuff and head out when you’re ready.” She kept nattering away as she hurried back to the kitchen.
It was only then that Roy was able really to take in the hall. It was huge – at least six doors led off it, and one seemed to open onto a longer passageway. There was also a wide, impressive staircase on one side, leading up to the next floor, and so when Howie said, “D’you want to go up, then?” it was in this direction that Roy moved.
“Nah, let’s go this way,” said Howie, grinning. “Stairs are a bit too much work for my liking.” Concealed around a corner was the door to a lift. Roy tried to conceal his amazement – no one he knew had a lift in their house. It was becoming apparent that his cousins were incredibly rich. Howie pressed the button and the lift arrived. It was spacious inside, and Roy noticed that the buttons went all the way up to a third floor. Howie hit the one labeled “1,” and they rose, arriving with a “ding.”
Roy’s room was absolutely massive. It sported a king-size bed, a desk with a state-of-the-art computer, a widescreen TV, a mini-fridge and an en suite bathroom that was larger than the one Roy’s whole family had at home. He didn’t have long to marvel at it, though, because as soon as he had dumped his suitcase, Howie poked his head round the door and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
In the landing before they got into the lift, they were joined by Ishbel, Howie’s twin sister. They were very alike. While not quite as large as her brother, Ishbel still had an ample figure, which she crammed into a pair of tight denim shorts and a crop top. Roy found himself trying especially hard not to stare at her exposed and bulging midriff as they rode down in the lift. What did these people eat?
Howie drove them, even though it was only two streets away; clearly, Roy realized, they weren’t used to taking exercise. The restaurant was called the “Hot Potato,” and the waiter who saw them in clearly knew the others well. “Come on in,” he smiled, shaking Howie’s hand. “Your usual table?”
This, it turned out, was a circular table of the kind usually used for larger parties but in this case set only for four. Roy did wonder briefly why there were five chairs, but all became clear when Howie sat down: one for each buttock. They were brought menus, and as the waiter left to get their drinks, Howie turned to Roy and said, “Forget everything you know about food, cuz. Tonight you eat like us.” Each of them ordered three starters, and so Roy did too – maybe you got three on a plate or something, he reasoned. He ordered jumbo prawns, nachos and soup – each of which came on its own considerable-size plate. The others dug in with gusto, and while Roy was hungry, by the end of it he felt much less so. He didn’t know if he could handle a main course as well.
To be polite, however, he ordered a burger and chips, managing to eat the whole thing before Howie said, “Right. Let’s have another go. I’ll have the fried chicken this time, I think.” Roy’s eyes bulged, and was about to protest – but the food had been really good so far, and he loved a bit of good fried chicken. No one was saying he had to finish it all; maybe just give it a go. He didn’t want to seem like a fussy eater in front of his new family.
It was this rationale that carried him through the meal, but since dessert was a double whammy as well – a slice of cheesecake so vast it was unbelievable and then a chocolate fudge sundae – by the end of it Roy was really wishing he’d known when to stop. His stomach felt like a bowling ball, and it seemed about the size of one; he’d had to undo the button of his jeans to relieve some of the pressure. By the time they left to go out to the car, he was waddling as much as any of the others.
That night, Roy sat at the desk in the front bedroom, bent over his journal, feeling strange. Roy wrote in his journal every night, taking down the events of the day, his thoughts and any ideas which occurred to him, for Roy’s ambition was to be a writer. He was worried his dad, who wanted him to get a steady job in an office or something, would not approve, so he kept his aspirations private, confined to the journal and sometimes his close friends. Not that he had many – Roy was, in the main, a quiet type, and often he preferred to stay on the fringes and do things his own way.
An odd feeling was brewing in Roy now, and he wasn’t sure what to write. He was beginning to get over the evening’s feast – although he still couldn’t move too quickly; his belly was too tender – and he felt very contented. He still thought he’d made an absolute pig of himself, even though all the others had eaten far more than he. He couldn’t help wondering – what if he kept this up all summer? Okay, he wasn’t going to end up like Howie in seven weeks, but still… he could do some serious damage. Roy hated sports and he’d never been muscular or stick-thin, but never anywhere close to fat either. The thought of being a bit fatter didn’t seem all that bad, really. He smiled to himself, closed the journal, and went to bed.
