It was early afternoon by the time Jasper stopped and decided to take a break from cleaning the apartment–mostly because his gut had begun to growl a bit. This seemed…a bit odd to him. After all, he’d eaten a sizable breakfast–much larger than he could ever remember eating before this–and while cleaning up the apartment he’d also found himself drawn back to the kitchen every hour or so for some sort of snack. It just…felt good to eat, all of a sudden, and while part of him knew this was wrong, that if he wanted to get his old body back he’d have to stop eating…at the same time, he didn’t want to threaten Daryn, right? If anything…wouldn’t it be better if he was fatter? Less muscular? Less…less of a man than him?
No, he pushed that aside. There was something really weird going on here, and as soon as he finished cleaning up for Daryn, then he was going to go find Mr. Wadsworth, and that old fuck was going to explain what exactly was going on here. This, he was certain, wasn’t the way things were, or should have been, and if that old man had anything to do with this…well, Jasper was certain he could figure out some way to make him fix it, even if he didn’t know what, really, needed fixing. Still, whatever this hunger was, it really was bothering him–he went back into the kitchen, and rather than the lighter junk food he’d been eating, he made himself a sizable lunch, and then devoured it on the couch while he watched TV. When he was finished, he leaned back and let off a nice long belch, expecting to feel full…but while his gut was straining, the hunger he’d been feeling wasn’t satisfied at all.
Distressed, he kept cleaning, and was nearly finished when Daryn returned home from practice, reeking of field and sweat, and he sat down right on the couch, naked, and started watching TV, demanding a beer from the fridge, which Jasper hurried to fetch for him. As he walked away from his jock roommate, however, Jasper had to wipe his chin–something had just made him drool spontaneously, and that growling in his gut was only growing more intense. He occupied himself with preparing dinner, bringing Daryn beer after beer as he knocked them back, and every time he got close to him, Jasper found himself drooling, starving for something but he didn’t know what. He took a plate out to Daryn when dinner was ready, and then devoured a portion five times the size in the kitchen at the table, but the food tasted…dull. It wasn’t what he wanted to eat, but what in the fuck was he so hungry for? Stuffed to the gullet and profoundly unsatisfied, Jasper spent the evening on some schoolwork and then went to bed, hoping his body would settle down in the coming days.
Instead, everything just got worse. Jasper spent the days in relative misery, desperately trying to fill some hole in his belly that he couldn’t explain or even discuss. He tried all kinds of food, anything he’d usually craved in his life, but nothing tasted satisfying. He tried to drink it away, but all that did was provide him with a massive hangover, and a furious Jasper later, when there wasn’t enough beer in the place for him to drink that evening. The drooling only intensified, as well–if he caught even a whiff of Daryn’s musk, his mouth would simply overflow, and his gut would twist into knots, but he didn’t want to eat Daryn. He found his salivation was triggered by other things as well–the nasty piles of sweaty gym laundry Daryn left for him to do, the smell of his piss left in and around the toilet, and the trashcan brimming with cum soaked tissues by Daryn’s computer.
He’d tried to contact Mr. Wadsworth, but the office said he was on a two week vacation, and that since he was out of the country, he was impossible to contact. Jasper doubted this somehow…it seemed like he’d talked with him once or twice since Daryn had fucked him, but he couldn’t remember where, when, or any real details. It was over a week of this, and Jasper was so frustrated he’d be willing to try anything. He could sense that there was something he could do, that the solution was somehow obvious, but it was almost like he was refusing to see it. That…that if he finally understood the problem, and the solution, that might somehow be even worse. One afternoon, while Daryn was out, he couldn’t take it any longer, and he broke down into sobs in the living room. “Please–please, just tell me what to do, I can’t take this anymore!” he shouted–though who he was talking to was unclear.
But the next moment, Mr. Wadsworth was standing beside him, smiling down at him. “Jasper, we’ve already discussed this several times. You know how to make it stop. You know what your body needs now. If you really want to fight it, then this is the price you’ll have to pay.”
“Please, I can’t…just change me back, please.”
“Now, now, I would never do that!” the older man said, “That would ruin my fun. Now come on, I can’t imagine how much you must be hurting right now. Everything you need is right in his room–just go give it a try! You can always stop if you don’t like it, right?”
Yeah…yeah, he just needed…a taste is all. One taste, to get it out of his system, and then he could keep fighting. He was just so tired now, and he needed it so badly. He went into Daryn’s room, to the trashcan he’d never bothered emptying, drool pouring from his mouth. He picked one up–still a bit sodden from a morning load, and pushed it into his mouth. He’d expected it to be dry, but the amount of spit his body was making actually helped it go down so…easily, and fuck, it tasted so good. He fell to his knees, grabbing wad after wad of tissue and cramming it into his mouth, swallowing it all down, horrified at himself, and yet he couldn’t fucking stop.
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