You look down at your puny brother, then lick your lips and tell him, "I took your mass for myself. But you still have some, don't you?" With the taste of the powdered water still on your tongue, you say, "I wish everyone would accept my size stealing powers, no matter what."
As the heat spreads against your body again, you point at your brother.Immediately, he shudders, and begins to shrink, crumpling in on himself like an empty tin can. You can feel some more weight on your belly.
"Please, bro, don't--" He says as he shrinks more and more, but his speech quickly becomes garbled as he curls up into a tiny ball of flesh, then vanishes entirely. The pull you felt connecting you to him dissipates, and you're alone in your room again.
Immediately, you feel over a ton of weight pushing down on you, and you have to lean against a wall to stop yourself from hitting the floor. You huff and pant for a while as you acclimate to your ill-gotten gains. Eventually, you take a slow and difficult step forwards. It's every bit as hard as it looked when your brother had all this mass, but it's incredibly arousing at the same time. You can feel warm pre dripping down the inside of your fatpad. Knowing how hard it'll be to walk now, you grab the powder container and stuff it under a moob, where the weight pins it in place. Taking half an hour to walk across the house means you're going to need easier access to it.
As you walk back to the living room where your dad is, he slowly takes off his feeding tube as he gawks at your size. "What happened to you?? Where's your brother?"
You grin and slap your belly. "I took his mass. ALL of it."
Your father stares at you, mouth agape, but then smiles. "Well, his hard work... If you can even call it that, the lazy fatass, looks much better on you than him. I have no doubt that you'll do the same to me too, huh?"
"Maybe, if you want me to. He was a jackass, and I deserved to be the bigger son. But if you want me to be the biggest man in your family, then give me the word." You finally plop down on the couch, which groans in complaint. It's a good thing your furniture was all built for superchubs, as there had to be no less than 3 tons of mass on it at this moment. Even then, the couch was fully destroyed thanks to years of sweat, grease, and gas mercilessly **** into it. Your stomach loudly gurgles. Your mom is making food in the kitchen, and you know if you wait you can just get a meal then. Your eyes drift towards the feeding tube hanging from the ceiling, still covered in your father's saliva. While waiting would work, you're hungry enough to consider stuffing it in your mouth right here and now, regardless of the cleanliness. You also feel up your moob and feel the plastic powder container underneath. That can also fix your hunger situation.
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