“Look…I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry I lost my temper with you, and I’m sorry that I lied to your son about masturbation. It was wrong, alright?”
“Well, thank you for the apology. I trust you’ll be sticking to the facts from here on out?” Ms. Eleway asked.
“Yes, yes. I promise. Just…just change me back, alright?”
Silence. Her face didn’t change one whit, not even a turn at the corner of her lips. Randal just stared at her, waiting for something, even some confirmation that this wasn’t all just in his head. It…it wasn’t all in his head, was it? He got hit with a wave of doubt, suddenly. What if he’d…just thought things were changing? What if he was just crazy? No–No, he wasn’t crazy, this bitch was doing this to him, and this bitch was going to cut it the fuck out. He’d said his apology, he’d learned his lesson–now everything was supposed to go back to normal!
“I know you’re doing this to me,” he said, a hint of manic conspiracy in his tone, “I know it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Gray.”
Did she not remember either? No one else had noticed any of the changes happening to him. “Please…I feel like I’m going insane, and…I need to know that this is really happening. Please, just give me my life back, I don’t want to be this person, I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“Well, then why don’t you just stop?” she asked, a slight smile on her face.
“Because you’re making me do this! I don’t know how, I don’t know if you’re some kind of witch, or what this shit is, but it needs to stop,” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying to not get angry, but you have to understand that the last weekend was…hard for me.”
She stood up, and put her purse over her arm, pressing a few wrinkles from her shirt. “You’re apology is accepted, but it isn’t enough. You need to learn restraint and self-control. If you want to get your life back, Mr. Gray, you’re going to have to follow your own bad advice, and stop masturbating–for good.”
“Excuse me?”
“It shouldn’t be that difficult for you–after all, you yourself said you fucked your wife often enough that you’d never needed to masturbate before. For each full day you go without masturbating, you’ll get an inch back, and that set of changes will reverse. Of course, the more you lose, the harder it’s going to be to get everything back, and if you try and resist, but give in anyway…well, you know what will happen then,” she turned to leave, but added one more thing over her shoulder, “It’s probably best if you just stay as you are now–that’s the safest thing. In a couple of months, the curse will lose force, and you’ll never even remember being anything different. In any case, I wish you good luck with whatever you decide to do–just know that if you lose everything–” her eyes flicked down to Randal’s crotch, and then back to his face, “then there’s no going back for you, ever.” She started on her way, “Best to get used to being a fat, ass hungry faggot–I don’t think you have it in you to be much else now.”
Should he beg? No–no, he wouldn’t beg. He wanted to kill her, is what he wanted. He rose from his desk, intending to follow her, perhaps bash her head in against the wall, but as the thought of harming her flared up, his need to masturbate flared as well–almost strong enough to signal another possible loss. Still, he couldn’t just let her leave, could he? She had to fix this! He’d learned his lesson, he wasn’t going to put up with this awful shit anymore! He hefted himself up and headed out the way she’d left, but didn’t see her down any hallway–and his cock was growing more insistent each moment. In the end, he retreated to the bathroom down the hall, dropped his grungy pants, and spent a few minutes fucking himself with his dildo he kept in his ass all day (for safety’s sake), jacking off until he came with a grunt all over the wall of the stall. Still shoving the rubber in and out, he got down and licked up his own cum, savoring the taste, thinking he might have to give someone a call today. Rubber was nice, but real was so much more satisfying, he’d discovered.
God, is this really what things had come to? Was he really ready to surrender to this?
He resisted the urge to break down into tears, hiked his pants back up–dildo shoved deep inside his ass–and left the bathroom again, heading back for his office. He needed to focus on the positives here–she wasn’t going to just give him his life back, that much was clear–but he could get it back all the same…assuming she was telling him the truth about the nature of the curse. Then again, he had no reason to doubt her, right?
Actually, he did. Not masturbating…it might change him back, if he could control himself, or maybe she was just laying a trap for him, knowing he’d attempt it and fail, losing more of himself in the process. Still, she hadn’t…sounded like she was lying. What choice did he really have? He’d have to take a chance and trust her–he could abstain for a day…right?
He pulled the dildo out, cleaned it off, and stashed it in a drawer in his desk–then he left and headed for home. He could do this–it was just one day, right? In fact, it was one of the most difficult days of his life. All evening, jacking off was all he could think about. It was hard to believe how central the act of self-pleasure had become to his daily routine. He walked, instead, exhausting himself, and settled in late for a restless night. There were a couple of close calls, when he woke–one hand in his ass, the other mindlessly stroking off–the orgasm of change building–but he managed to stop himself. Work the next day was worse. The dildo was right there, in his drawer. Just…one time. It couldn’t hurt, his body screamed, but he held off, all day long. He’d met her at 3:00, she’d left around 3:15, he’d last jacked off before 3:30. He watched the clock, cock screaming with need, groping himself, nervously opening and shutting his desk drawer. But the clock slipped closer, and he felt something happening to his body–it was shrinking. The fat he’d gained last time was disappearing, along with the beard. His clothes turning cleaner–it was true! She’d told the truth! There was a way out for him–he could do this. The dildo had disappeared, and he left the school, humming to himself, full of hope. Three more days, and he’d have his life back–then he’d teach that bitch a thing or two about self-control.
Bracken's Corner 